Touch is to a jazz pianist what charisma is to an
actor: It is the X-factor, the “it” that cannot be defined. It is the most
elusive of qualities, yet it is unmistakable. You know it when it’s there,
and when it’s not.
Bruce Barth’s
buoyant touch — by turns percussive and gentle, rhythmic and lyrical — is
what sets him apart from the bumper crop of young jazz pianists to have
emerged since 1990 on the New York jazz scene. It was in evidence on his
first two recordings (both quintet dates on Enja) — “In Focus” (1993) and
“Morning Call” (1995) — both of which landed on New York Times jazz
critics’ top 10 CDs of the year list. It’s been increasingly on view in
the two years since “Morning Call” as Barth has led groups in some of the
leading jazz rooms in New York — Sweet Basil’s, Visiones and the
now-defunct Bradley’s — a sign that his career has taken off. And that
subtle, and supple, touch, both as a composer and improviser, gets a
fuller hearing on “Don’t Blame Me.” It is the pianist’s first trio
recording, with bassist Ed Howard and drummer Billy Drummond, and the most
compelling example to date of Barth’s powers as an improviser.
Barth has been
much in demand since moving to New York from Boston in 1988; his
versatility caught many an ear early on. During his four-year stint
(1990-‘94) with Terence Blanchard’s quintet, I heard him move seamlessly
between the two sides of the group’s musical personality: a hard-edged,
muscular swing and passages so still and contemplative that a listener
felt transported.
Since then,
I’ve heard him play wide open and free with forward-looking alto
saxophonist Steve Wilson, one of Barth’s closest musical allies, splashing
dense, modernist clusters all over the piano. I’ve also heard him play
exquisite ballads, finding fresh melodic and rhythmic variations in
standards you’ve heard a hundred times. And on another occasion I heard
him comp rich and strikingly unexpected chords behind a straightahead
trumpeter like Eddie Henderson, pushing the veteran to burn hot. Barth has
also ventured into the solo piano realm, recently playing an afternoon of
Gershwin tunes at the Museum of the City of New York. He has played on a
number of movie scores as well. In August he appeared on a double piano
bill with James Williams as part of the Panasonic Jazz Festival in New
York City. And he’ll soon be touring the U.S., Canada and Europe with his
own band.
Much of
Barth’s versatility was honed in his own living room in the Park Slope
section of Brooklyn. When he first got to New York, Barth, who has a grand
piano in his apartment, found himself hosting regular jam sessions
featuring some of the best young jazz players in the city: saxophonists
Wilson, Vincent Herring and Sam Newsome (also a Blanchard alum), bassist
James Genus and drummer Billy Drummond. Barth’s eclecticism has earned him
calls from Stanley Turrentine, Art Farmer and the Mingus Big Band, as well
as a busy recording schedule, having appeared on some 20 sessions with
some of the best young musicians in the city.
But with Bruce
Barth it always seems to come back to touch. You can hear in Barth’s
playing traces of pianists known for their magical sense of touch: Herbie
Hancock, Hank Jones, Wynton Kelly. But that only tells part of his story.
Barth has been working hard to transcend his influences, to get beyond
imitation and create an original voice.
Barth has a
natural sense of swing, an ear for melody, and he never seems to press or
overplay. And though he has technique to burn (he was classically trained
from age 6), he never shows off. Like a poised basketball player who never
forces the action, Barth seems to let the tune come to him, so to speak,
dictating his will gently.
Which bring us
to “Don’t Blame Me.” It’s a mature record, unhurried, long on substance
and short on flash. It’s the kind of record you’d expect from someone much
older than Barth’s 39 years. There is a probing quality to the trio and
Barth finds some musical room to move. Time is suspended in spots, a loose
pliability taking hold. Yet there is a simplicity to the record, an
unadorned dignity, especially on the solo piano take on Autumn in New
York.
“Don’t Blame
Me” contains five originals and five standards; it’s a mix of tunes Barth
has experimented with many times and ones he’s just recently penned. About
the standards, Barth says: “What I like about playing standards is since
they’re familiar you can relax and blow. Yet at the same time I try to
develop a personal approach to them. They’re songs I’ve played for years,
and different standards provide different challenges and different
opportunities. On some — like Autumn in New York — it’s the harmonic
progression. On others — like Monk’s Evidence or Fascinating Rhythm — it’s
the rhythm.”
The title
tune, Jimmy McHugh’s Don’t Blame Me, opens the date and it is perhaps the
CD’s tour de force, the finest example of Barth’s emerging trio approach.
There is a loose elasticity to the tune as it moves from suspended time to
a medium, swinging groove, with stop-time passages, a hint of a 6/8
feeling and sections that seem to swell spontaneously before falling away.
Barth is after a kind of controlled freedom in his trio playing, a sense
of experimentation within the boundaries of the melody-solo-restatement of
melody form. And he’s found it here, and elsewhere on the CD, with the
help of Howard and Drummond, who revel in the high level of musical
interplay.
His solo on
Don’t Blame Me speaks to Barth’s desire “to get away from a single-line
right hand, to draw on a variety of textures, to broaden the palette.”
He’s done that here with the dramatic use of his left hand, which often
takes over the melodic load and is not simply there to add chordal
accents; it makes for a rich and dense two-handed approach.
Days of June
is a poignant, rolling waltz Barth wrote for his wife and son, whose
birthdays are three days apart in June. Barth’s 3/4 tunes move gracefully
yet they are full of tension and suspense.
The trio’s
take on Thelonious Monk’s study in rhythm, Evidence, continues the
exploration of form laid out in Don’t Blame Me. After the statement of
Monk’s highly idiosyncratic and angular theme, Barth brings out the
lyricism lurking just beneath the surface of Monk’s melodies in a long
solo section. And in another dramatic example of how form can be stretched
within a mainstream context, after Drummond’s wonderfully precise solo he
continues to interact as an equal partner as Barth and Howard rejoin the
fray, giving the tune a decidedly free-wheeling quality.
Song For Alex,
a Barth original written for his son, is a gentle, bluesy ballad with a
sweet but mischievous quality. Barth first played the tune in a duet
setting at Sweet Basil’s with Steve Wilson on soprano sax.
Barth’s For
Clara is a rich, beautiful melody set in a loping, bossa nova -like
rhythm, one of the pianist’s tunes — and he has written a number of them —
that sound so familiar you think they must be jazz standards.
Prospect
Blues, a spiky, Monkish melody, is an homage to Barth’s Brooklyn
neighborhood, home to the pastoral Prospect Park. Barth has an affinity
for medium tempos, and he and the group dig in deep on this bluesy romp.
Barth flexes
his improvisatory muscle on John Coltrane’s up-tempo classic Lazybird,
blowing melodic variations over the changes and not stating the melody
until the conclusion of the tune.
The medium
swinging The Way He Wore His Hat, according to Barth, “is based on a
Monkish chord, with a rhythm from Gershwin’s They Can’t Take That Away
From Me.” The hat reference is, of course, to the bebop pioneer.
Vernon Duke’s
Autumn in New York finds Barth at his wistful, lyrical best. “I’ve been
playing this for many years, both solo and with a trio,” says Barth. “It’s
a poignant tune.”
Fascinating
Rhythm sends the recording out marching to an infectious beat. Barth
cleverly sets the Gershwin standard in a rollicking New Orleans “second
line” beat. The take is pure joy, Barth rolling out several choruses of
two-handed, bluesy, funky fun.
Of his running
mates, Barth says: “I feel fortunate to play regularly with great
musicians like Billy and Ed, both of whom I’ve known for years. Billy (a
much in demand drummer who has worked with Sonny Rollins, J. J. Johnson,
to name a few) was one of the first musicians I met when I moved to New
York. He has a great cymbal beat, a good ear for color and he has his own
sound on the drums.” “Ed has a great feel,” Barth says about
big-toned bassist Ed Howard, who is a member of Roy Haynes’ group and the
Victor Lewis Quintet. “Ever since we were on a quartet gig together at
Bradley’s that just felt great, he and I have been working a lot together.
He has a creative way of bringing out the character of a tune and making
the group gel.”
With any luck,
“Don’t Blame Me” won’t be Bruce Barth’s last trio recording. “I find
playing trio to be a great challenge. I’d like to open sections up and
experiment with the form. I think there’s still room to explore.”
Robert Goldblum - New York City -
August '97
For Clara is dedicated to the memory of my beloved aunt, Clara Friedman.
Many thanks to Ed, Billy, David Baker, Rob
Goldblum, Kim Berry, Roz Corral, John Nugent, Ben and Louise Barth, My
wife Elsa and son Alex.
Special Thanks to Fred
Hersch and Wayne Winborne.
Bruce Barth - Aug
'97