Supongo que por romper el hábito y por el proceso de restablecer un equilibrio previo, los grupos de jazz en los que "falta" algún instrumento resultan particularmente atractivos, sobre todo si el instrumento en cuestión es el encargado de proporcionar el trasfondo armónico sobre el que se apoya el resto de músicos. Sin acordes claramente marcados la armonía es menos evidente, menos nítida, y por ello más ligera, más suelta, ya que queda a merced de lo que indiquen, explícita o implícitamente, los instrumentos que constituyan el grupo. Explícitamente, puede que coincidan varios instrumentos tocando cada uno una nota en un instante dado, pero esto es infrecuente y la percepción del acorde que se forme estaría además sujeta a la mezcla de las texturas de cada instrumento y de la intensidad con que interpreten esa nota. Por el contrario, en la apreciación de la armonía implícita entra en juego la sugestión del oyente, que su cerebro vaya reconstruyendo los huecos que vayan dejando las líneas melódicas que le estén suministrando los músicos, o que "oiga", o aun anticipe, los acordes implícitos en una línea melódica –bien por intuición, bien porque conoce el tema original– de la misma forma que reconstruimos automáticamente lo que no ve el punto ciego del ojo. (Todo esto se refiere a la música tonal basada en acordes, lógicamente).
En el jazz se han dado todas las combinaciones instrumentales posibles, sobre todo en la parte más vanguardista, en la que no es infrecuente el formato de dúo. En un contexto más "convencional" no es tan habitual, posiblemente por costumbre y porque el material sobre el que se trabaja son estructuras más o menos rígidas (ciclos de 32 compases) que pueden llegar a ser relativamente complejas en lo que respecta a la armonía.
Uno de los formatos menos cómodos y más gratificantes cuando sale bien, es el dúo de saxo tenor y contrabajo. Con registros cercanos pero diferenciados por sus característicos timbres, son dos instrumentos con "peso" y carácter, dueños de la parte más profunda de la tesitura, que reúnen la humanidad, más que cantante, conversadora del tenor y la elasticidad rítmica bajo.
Un ejemplo temprano es el par de temas de DON BYAS y SLAM STEWART grabados por el legendario Timme Rosenkrantz en el Town Hall de Nueva York en 1945 (9 de junio) y luego publicados por Commodore. "Indiana" y, sobre todo, "I Got Rhythm" son una buena y temprana muestra de las posibilidades de este emparejamiento. Byas está excepcional, agilísimo, y Slam Stewart prueba una vez más por qué es injusto que sólo se le recuerde por sus solos con arco y voz, cuando era un excepcional improvisador de melodías. Que yo sepa, la última vez que se reeditaron en CD "oficialmente" fue en Giants of the Tenor Sax: Ben Webster/Don Byas (Commodore 7005), hace 20 años, ahí es nada.
Precisamente en la estela de Byas-Stewart y Golson-Johnson cabría encuadrar a STEPHEN RILEY y JOHN BROWN, responsables de Once Upon A Dream, recientemente publicado en SteepleChase (CD 31632). (Brown es profesor en la Universidad de Duke, para que luego digan que lo académico entumece el espíritu). Este par de músicos salen airosos de dos lances complicados, ya que mantienen la tensión y el interés a pesar de, por un lado, la lógica limitación tímbrica y, por otro, un contexto mainstream, proclive al agotamiento y el desgaste. Este es un disco que va más allá de la mera gimnasia, del ejercicio vacuo del que son muy capaces figuras de más renombre, y transpira pasión y fe por lo que hacen.
En Qobuz puede escucharse una colección actualizada de dúos de tenor y contrabajo.
Que lo disfruten.
Maybe because it goes against the rule, or for the inherent process of restoring a broken balance, jazz bands with a “missing” instrument are particularly attractive, especially if the missing instrument, like the piano or the guitar, provides the harmonic background on which all the other instruments rely on. Without clearly stated chords, the underlying harmony becomes less evident, less clear and, for that reason, lighter and looser, because it depends on whatever the other instruments play explicitly or suggest implicitly. Explicitly, it could be that at a given time several instruments are playing different notes and these form a chord, but this would be a rare occurrence, and it would depend on the blend of each instrument’s texture and the volume of each note. Implicit perception of harmony involves the power of suggestion of listeners, that their brains fill in the gaps left by the lines provided by the musicians, or that they “hear”, even anticipate, the chords implied by a melody, be it intuitively or because they know the original tune, in the same way we automatically fill in the gaps of what the blind spot of the eye cannot see. (All this refers to tonal, chord-based music, obviously.)
Jazz has been played in all possible combinations, especially in the more avant-garde circles, where the duet is rather more frequent. In a mainstream context the duet doesn’t happen so often, possibly because musicians are not so used to it and because the materials they work on have rigid structures (mainly 32-bar cycles) that sometimes can be relatively complex, harmony-wise.
The tenor sax and double bass duet must be as difficult as it is gratifying when it works out. Both instruments have neighbouring ranges, but they are easy to tell apart because of their characteristic timbres. Both have weight and personality, a certain gravitas for their being at the lower end of the frequency range. Together they combine the human-like, speaking rather than singing quality of the tenor, together with the rhythmic elasticity of the bass.
Two early examples of the tenor-bass duet were recorded in 1945 (June 9th) by DON BYAS and SLAM STEWART at NYC’s Town Hall. The records were made by the legendary Timme Rosenkrantz and later released by Commodore. "Indiana" and, especially, "I Got Rhythm" are a good example of the possibilities of this coupling. Byas plays incredibly well, with great agility, and Slam Stewart shows yet again why he has been unfairly forgotten as a bassist and as an improvisor of melodies. As far as I know, the last time these two were officially reissued together was in Giants of the Tenor Sax: Ben Webster/Don Byas (Commodore 7005), 20 years ago, quite a while.
Off the cuff, another example is the reading that BENNY GOLSON and TOMMY WILLIAMS do of "My Heart Belongs To Daddy" in Golson’s Take a Number from One to Ten (Argo LP 681), partially reissued on CD as Free (GRP/MCA CD 816, out of print) and as part of the Mosaic set devoted to the Jazztet (The Complete Argo/Mercury Art Farmer/Benny Golson/Jazztet Sessions, Mosaic #225). This is another exceptional duet.
It could be said that all these recordings set the scene for STEPHEN RILEY and JOHN BROWN, who have just released Once Upon a Dream (SteepleChase CD 31632). (Incidentally, Brown teaches at Duke University, so much for the Academy robbing jazz of its soul). In this CD both Riley and Brown skip over the two main problems of this kind of record, keeping the tension and interest throughout, in spite of, one, the limitations of having two instruments (regarding timbre and textures), and two, their playing mainstream jazz, a context prone to formulas and general boredom. This is an album that goes beyond mere gymnastics or the empty exercise which other better known musicians are so capable of. Here there’s passion and faith for what it’s being done.
To listen to an updated playlist of tenor/bass duets on Qobuz, go here.
Hope you enjoy it.
Jazz has been played in all possible combinations, especially in the more avant-garde circles, where the duet is rather more frequent. In a mainstream context the duet doesn’t happen so often, possibly because musicians are not so used to it and because the materials they work on have rigid structures (mainly 32-bar cycles) that sometimes can be relatively complex, harmony-wise.
The tenor sax and double bass duet must be as difficult as it is gratifying when it works out. Both instruments have neighbouring ranges, but they are easy to tell apart because of their characteristic timbres. Both have weight and personality, a certain gravitas for their being at the lower end of the frequency range. Together they combine the human-like, speaking rather than singing quality of the tenor, together with the rhythmic elasticity of the bass.
Off the cuff, another example is the reading that BENNY GOLSON and TOMMY WILLIAMS do of "My Heart Belongs To Daddy" in Golson’s Take a Number from One to Ten (Argo LP 681), partially reissued on CD as Free (GRP/MCA CD 816, out of print) and as part of the Mosaic set devoted to the Jazztet (The Complete Argo/Mercury Art Farmer/Benny Golson/Jazztet Sessions, Mosaic #225). This is another exceptional duet.
It could be said that all these recordings set the scene for STEPHEN RILEY and JOHN BROWN, who have just released Once Upon a Dream (SteepleChase CD 31632). (Incidentally, Brown teaches at Duke University, so much for the Academy robbing jazz of its soul). In this CD both Riley and Brown skip over the two main problems of this kind of record, keeping the tension and interest throughout, in spite of, one, the limitations of having two instruments (regarding timbre and textures), and two, their playing mainstream jazz, a context prone to formulas and general boredom. This is an album that goes beyond mere gymnastics or the empty exercise which other better known musicians are so capable of. Here there’s passion and faith for what it’s being done.
To listen to an updated playlist of tenor/bass duets on Qobuz, go here.
Hope you enjoy it.
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