Well, I have to confess.
Years ago, Joshua Redman didn’t inspire much sympathy in me: he seemed like a man born with a silver spoon in his mouth (one of those tailor-made ones), destined for success, focused on a calculated cult of image, very much in line with the trends of the times.
1976, note the label that launched them…
Then one summer a few years ago, I had a change of heart: I heard him live on “Still Dreamin’,” a heartfelt tribute to the Ornetti-inspired quartet whose “Old and New Dreams” spread the warm heart of the Fort Worth-based Texan’s music to the world at a time of great resurgence, just as he was pursuing other, more controversial paths elsewhere.
Among them was Dewey Redman, Joshua’s father, who, however, only met him as an adult, growing up far from Dewey, both personally and, above all, musically. This gives “Still Dreamin'” even greater value. The first in a series of misunderstandings surrounding Redman Jr.
Alas, Ron Miles is no more…
Another deceptive misunderstanding: Joshua wasn’t predestined for a brilliant musical career.
Unlike some of his peers, he didn’t have Berklee University behind him, years of rigorous academic training meticulously planned for an early professional debut.
Instead, he spent his adolescence as a passionate amateur immersed in a diverse and stimulating musical environment.
But in the end, he earned a degree in political science from Harvard (!) and an enrollment at Yale Law School (!!): a first-class ticket to a life of wealth and social affirmation.
And yet, here comes the irresistible lure of music as a total lifestyle choice.
A risky choice, almost immediately rewarded in 1991 by the coveted Thelonious Monk Institute Award, quickly followed by a Grammy for his debut album.
A series of prestigious collaborations followed, but Redman also remained tenaciously faithful to the companions with whom he formed his career at the beginning.
And with painstaking perseverance, he managed to reunite Brad Meldhau, Christian McBride, and Brian Blade, who in the meantime had become true stars in their own right, highly sought-after and extremely busy.
The result was two splendid albums, which had the outward appearance of an all-star session conceived in a laboratory, but were actually merely the spontaneous and telepathic reunion of childhood friends. Misunderstanding #3.
When the horror of these days grips you, put on this to detox with a bit of authentic, heartfelt beauty…
Joshua has been a leading figure on the international jazz scene for years, and unfortunately this is a significant problem for our concert circuit, which is plagued by such hardships. The exclusive opportunity offered by the Casa del Jazz with its Summertime was therefore precious, one of the very few festivals that on a scorching Monday in August could bring together in a semi-deserted Rome more than a thousand spectators with tickets that weren’t exactly popular.
And attentive and not easily satisfied spectators.
Redman showed up with the quartet from his latest album, ‘Words Fall Short,’ a beautiful title that’s easier to grasp than to translate effectively: Paul Cornish on piano, Philip Norris on bass, and Nazir Ebo on drums.
Of course, the guests who appear on the album are missing, but that doesn’t seem like a big deal to me; the music comes through more agile and essential.
Redman’s sax sound is immediately evident, never clouding his clear timbre even when, as often happens, he chooses extremely tight and fast tempos.
Despite the suffused melancholy that permeates the pieces of “Words Fall Short,” Redman displays a passion and energy, aided by his fluid eloquence, which allows for a flawless and rich development of themes, often tinged with subtle abstraction.
I’ve seen Redman the composer dismissed with condescension, wrongly so, in my opinion: his atmospheric themes are, first and foremost, flexible springboards for his overwhelming flights as an improviser.
Joshua in Rome, an interesting collage of various “fragments” of the performance…
Despite his established star status, Joshua is a democratic leader, leaving plenty of room for his players. He’s also well aware he’s assembled a top-notch band…
I’m a fan of bass solos, often unrequited. But with Philip Noyce, it was love at first sight.
I’d already met him alongside Ethan Iverson, but alongside Joshua, in addition to a powerful and rounded sound, he unleashes a thrilling melodic ability: long solos that seem sculpted, so precise is his articulation and pronunciation, with a highly expressive final outcome that contributes decisively to the warm and intense tone of the entire band.
Zakir Ebo contributes to the band’s fluidity and dynamism with his clear and subtle drumming, particularly notable in his cymbal work.
Rome again, a tense exchange between Redman and Cornish, revealing the beautiful chemistry between the two.
But Joshua gave us the greatest gift by introducing us to Paul Cornish. A lean pianist with a marked predilection for dark tones.
It’s no coincidence that he stands out already in the accompaniment, but when he takes center stage, we discover a musician completely removed from any easy seduction in terms of color and volume, and entirely focused on the exploration and instant reinvention of themes, often sharply percussive.
Despite a distinctly distinct and original personality, he also integrates perfectly into the group’s physiognomy. In a fine, old-fashioned gesture, Redman gave him a grand debut by introducing him to Blue Note, which shortly after the release of “Words Fall Short” released “You’re Exaggerating!”, an exclamatory title that strikes me as rather suggestive…
I’m willing to bet we’ll be hearing a lot about Cornish: I’m not risking much, after all, given the company I’m in. In the meantime, I highly recommend this “revelation album,” a rare commodity these days, especially since it comes from a musician who has long matured in the shadows (he’s now 28, a very young age for today’s jazz establishment).
The concert takes off, stringing together the album’s compositions one after another. But as a stage veteran, Redman flirts with the audience’s growing enthusiasm and involvement, first placing a nice cameo dedicated to Paul Cornish with his “New Joy” (“It’s the first time we’ve played it”) in public with this band”). But the real kicker comes at the end, when he calls on his old friend Gregory Hutchinson, longtime resident in Rome, who takes over the drumsticks from Ebo.
And in a jam that feels like a reunion, what can be played? A standard, of course: a sparkling and ironic “Remember” by Irving Berlin, but in Hank Mobley’s arrangement from the magnificent 1960 album “Soul Station.”
And so the success practically becomes a triumph: alas, only an encore, because a plane awaits at dawn… I hope the mostly amateur clips I’ve punctuated the piece with give you an idea of this beautiful, warm summer night; after Akinmusire in Perugia, it’s my fondest memory of this season.
P.S. Don’t miss Paul Cornish, it’s on all platforms, including free.
Yes, I know, it’s 21 minutes. But at 1:50, there’s a taste of the formidable a cappella solo with which Joshua replaced the duet with Melissa Aldana on the album, also unaccompanied.
