Quartet Oblique: Drew Gress, Michaels Stephans, Marc Copland, Dave Liebman.

Ben Wendel. Photo by Josh Goleman.

Aaron Parks. Photo by Deneka Peniston.

A flood of recent releases is clogging up my in-box. Here are a few quick takes to get things moving again.

Aaron Parks
Little Big (Ropeadope Records)
A review
As omnivorous as it is elastic, jazz can accommodate just about any style or genre that presents itself, so the wide-ranging musical interests of pianist/keyboardist Aaron Parks find a welcome reception on his latest release, Little Big. Rock, ambiance, hip-hop, pop, funk, folk—they all find space to coexist on this album of 15 originals that blends electronic and acoustic instrumentation in lush, subdued sonic textures that are as central to the experience as are the composing and performing. Parks is ably assisted by three very sympathetic mates, whose credits range from Terrence Blanchard to Greg Osby to Seamus Blake: Kiwi guitarist Greg Tuohey, whose slashing lines offer a counterpoise to the dappled keyboard of Parks; electric bassist David “DJ” Ginyard, Jr., whose lyrical pulse ensures a smooth glide; and articulate drummer Tommy Crane. Parks often employs repetitive cells—as on the Twin Peaks–reminiscent “Small Planet”—that induce a trancelike state, and the material ranges from the spacey “Aquarium,” an excursion out into the weeds (but what lovely weeds), to the folkish solo piano of “Hearth.” “Siren” offers a confession of romantic enchantment in a kind of 21st-century “Für Elise,” while “The Fool” dances blissfully unaware along the edge of the abyss. Lyrical, dreamy, and forward-looking, Little Big offers an original direction for modern jazz, wrapped in a sumptuous soundscape.

Quartette Oblique
Quartette Oblique (Sunnyside Records)
A review
The folks who gathered at the Deer Head Inn in Delaware Water Gap, PA, on June 3, 2017, certainly got their money’s worth. Quartette Oblique—Dave Liebman (tenor and soprano saxes); Marc Copland (piano); Drew Gress (bass); and Michael Stephans (drums), the one responsible for pulling this aggregation together—delivered scintillating sets that stretched the possibilities of the tunes while honoring their provenance. With this live eponymous recording, the rest of us can enjoy this mainstream adventure. Drawing their inspiration from ancestors such as Coltrane, Davis, and Blakey, the quartet reimagines Davis’s “Nardis,” the burning opener on which the rhythm section prods Liebman into tenor gymnastics, “All Blues,” and a rapturous “So What.” Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood” gets a translucent treatment, opening with a Ravel-esque piano. Shards of the head appear like sunlight through trees, with beautiful solos from Liebman on soprano, Copland, and Gress gracing the track. John Abercrombie’s “Vertigo” benefits from a dense forest of harmonies from Copland and Stephans’ insistent propulsion. A giddy, intoxicated take on “You and the Night and the Music” and the subdued benediction of Gress’s “Vesper” round out the offerings. The quartet does not break new ground, but it thoroughly opens up familiar territory with a real zest for the project.

Ben Wendel
The Seasons (Motéma Records)
A review
The Seasons began as a 12-part suite for jazz duos, inspired by 12 piano pieces that Tchaikovsky composed and released month by month in 1876. Saxophonist/bassoonist Ben Wendel composed an original composition for each month, and pairing himself up with a different partner for each, he posted videos of the performances on YouTube month by month. Although the music was not recorded or released as an album, it still garnered a GRAMMY nomination. The album expands on those 12 compositions, and Wendel has pulled together four of his erstwhile duo partners—Gilad Hekselman (guitar), Aaron Parks (piano), Matt Brewer (bass), and Eric Harland (drums)—in a highly sympathetic and virtuosic quintet that sets this music ablaze. The 12 pieces, each a compressed suite in itself, reflects a musical personality that is as adventurous and imaginative as it is lyrical and precise. From the premonitions of March to the brooding storms of August to the achingly beautiful night skies of December, which host a supernova explosion before fluttering into silence, each piece seduces the listener into Wendel’s space, often riding on repeating rhythmic/melodic cells that exert a magnetic pull. By turns funky, percussive, dreamy, breezy, with Latin and gospel touches along the way, The Seasons invites repeated explorations.

© 2018 Mel Minter