In 1988 I recorded my first project as a leader, “Setting the Standard”, with bassist Drew Gress and drummer Phil Haynes at A&R studios in NYC. As this trio was already heading towards free playing it felt important to document some roots before moving too far afield. Live gigs were limited at that time but we did perform in Greenwich Village at a club called Visiones, Washington DC at One Step Down and an appearance at the Vancouver Jazz Festival, all before anyone really knew who we were. I had produced the session myself, sent the recording around and got an acceptance from a new music label looking to branch out into jazz only for them to get cold feet, backing out at the last minute. Soon after I got a call from Cadence Jazz Records with an offer. “Setting the Standard” was released on LP only in 1989, at a time when the CD was just being introduced. The decision not to offer the release on this emerging new technology, while perhaps a reasonable hedge at that time, effectively meant that the music would remain largely unheard going forward. On the positive side, The New York Times named it Jazz Album of the Week, ensuing reviews were positive and over time one thing lead to another. In 1990 we followed up with “Forms”, a recording of mostly original compositions released on a small independent label in Germany run by an enigmatic fellow from Brazil named Pedro de Freitas. Distribution was always a challenge for smaller labels and neither recording reached much beyond a core group of aficionados, (thank you!)
Years later I tried to get the rights to “Setting the Standard” back so as to combine it with “Forms” for a double CD reissue on the hatOLOGY label. In spite of those efforts it remained effectively locked in the vaults although I was able to get “Forms” reissued in 2003. With the passage of two more decades however I have finally regained the rights to “Setting the Standard” and so it is with great pleasure that I announce the newly digitized and remastered version of that session complete with the addition of two tracks originally intended for inclusion that did not fit on the LP, remaining unheard since the day they were recorded.
We were fortunate to have enlisted the services of legendary recording engineer David Baker for this recording session and in listening back it becomes clear just how important his expertise and experience was in capturing the spirit of the music. David passed in 2004 and he is missed. The master tapes had been sitting on a shelf all these many years and were in danger of deterioration. Have you ever wondered what is entailed in the restoration process for vintage recording tape? The New York Times recently did an article on just that topic and the incredible lengths that specialists in this field go to in order to recover otherwise unplayable recordings. Fortunately all that was required in this case was a fairly common baking treatment. That and successfully navigating some older noise reduction formats resulted in the music sounding just as clear as the day it was recorded. Engineer Jon Rosenberg, who I’ve been working with for years (and is someone I’m happy to call legendary in his own right) stepped in for the remastering, bringing the recording up to present day technical standards while honoring David’s signature sound. The results are now available on Band Camp.
When I listen back to this recording from nearly forty years ago, I’m struck by the joyful chemistry that we shared. I’m forever grateful to Drew and Phil and I’m glad we had the opportunity to document something of that time and to be able to share it with all of you.
As you know, the LP has never gone away so you may wish to keep in mind that the original LPs are still available for mail-order from Cadence Jazz Records.
Shop Talk…
In the previous post I mentioned the recent acquisition of a Morgan 6C saxophone mouthpiece given the notion that there may be some virtue to be found in smaller tip openings. The Lebayle LR III 7* has been my voice on the horn for years yet for classical and chamber music settings the extremely small tipped Raschèr with it’s haunting and mysterious quality got me to wondering if there might be something in between that could serve in a chamber setting and allow greater tonal coloration than offered by the Raschèr while not overpowering other instruments. Getting used to the Morgan has taken a little longer than I’d expected due to the fact that my intentions became a form of imposition, inhibiting the process of allowing the mouthpiece to simply speak for itself. Once I figured that out I’m feeling very much at home on it. It's also lead to searching again for "something in between" and this time I think I’ve found it.
The Vandoren company maintains a showroom right here in midtown NYC in which you can play-test a variety of mouthpieces, just like in the old days! Andrew Hadro (great baritone saxophonist) works there and made the process of sampling about a dozen pieces very clear and efficient. In the end I went with the T20 model which has a very balanced, straight down the middle concept and as it turns out, is one of the go-to mouthpieces for classical players. It has a vibrant, full, lyrical quality and also allows for all of the harmonics, multi-phonics and tonal shadings that larger setups typically provide. It’s so easy to play that I actually had to get used barely changing embouchure and jaw position at all when moving between registers. And since it serves it's purpose so well it allows greater appreciation for what the Lebayle, Morgan and Raschèr pieces each have to offer. All of which I will continue to play.
Last Year’s Listening…
Since post-pandemic re-opening I’ve upped my game in terms of live concert attendance. After throwing concert programs into a box for the past few years the cumulative assortment has grown surprisingly. Most were chamber music performances in the midtown area, walkable from my apartment. Perhaps touching on a few from 2025 is in order.
April 25, 2025 / Axiom
Pierre Boulez, Dérive, no. 2 was performed by the Axiom ensemble at Juilliard. I’ve never had any real language with which to speak about classical music especially when it comes to a composition like this one. It’s rare to hear Boulez in performance and this piece was a full on dose of…hmm, already coming up short verbally. This is a lengthy work which seemingly refers to nothing outside of itself as it generates a continually unfolding texture with no discernible internal form or delineated sections. While the overall texture was largely uniform the music functioned as the aural equivalent of a kaleidoscope in its immensely rich detail. After a time I began to have the sensation that my mind was generating the music itself. The effect was gripping even if slightly uncomfortable at times. There was nowhere to rest yet every moment offered rewards. Without time to process what one is hearing it practically forces the listener to stay engaged as there is no time whatsoever for judgement. A unique musical experience well deserving of the standing ovation it received. Apparently a lot of minds were involved in generating that music. Here is a video of Boulez himself conducting the work.
Gotham Early Music Scene - violinists Edson Scheid and Shunske Sato
Violinist Edson Scheid is performing the complete sonatas and partitas for unaccompanied violin by Bach in a series of concerts hosted by the Gotham Early Music Scene at St. Malachy’s Church in midtown Manhattan. I’m familiar with some of the partitas given the transcriptions for saxophone published by Raaf Hekkema. Mr. Scheid exudes a certain nonchalance in his demeanor allowing for a subtle almost imperceptible momentum to build during the course of the performance, which was ultimately convincing and emotionally resonant. A more demonstrably passionate performance was offered by violinist Shunske Sato in December which included a partita by Bach as well as works by Friedrich Wilhelm Rust and Eugène Ysaÿe. Apparently Mr. Sato has a dedicated following given the attendance and energy shown by the audience. If I were to call his playing hyper-virtuosic it would not be intended as criticism. His playing was musical if somewhat idiosyncratic in a way that I can’t quite articulate. The study in contrast between the two violinists shows just how personal a classical performance can be while adhering to received principles in such demanding repertoire.
October 18, 2025 / Gesualdo Six at St Mary’s Church
I live on the west side of midtown Manhattan not far from Times Square, which I avoid whenever possible. Times Square maintains a level of energy that no one should ever get used to. Trekking through the thick of it on a Saturday night was something my wife and I had forgotten about over the years yet we were still shocked by the intensity, or should I say insanity, that ensued within just a few square blocks. I know I’m getting older but damn, this level of revelry (if that’s even the right word) makes 70s Times Square seem quaint by comparison. The sheer amount of sound and movement coming from all directions is overwhelming. Hundreds of people whirring past each other on foot and by machine in near collision in every moment and every direction. Somehow we made it to St. Mary’s which could not have been a greater contrast. An oasis of spaciousness, quiet and serenity, right in the midst of bubbling chaos. We had about twenty minutes to decompress as people quickly filled the space which holds some hundreds of people. As we were finally settled and calm the concert began. Two of the six vocalists were situated at the front of the church in duet singing music by the group’s namesake Carlo Gesualdo. We were seated about halfway back but their voices were clear and otherworldly, filling the gothic cathedral. Just as I became swept up in the sound I was surprised (if not shocked) by the entrance of the other four vocalists as they stood just a few feet behind us, facing each other in the center aisle seamlessly joining their partners while slowly walking towards them until all were assembled together. The effect was extraordinarily moving. The program was comprised of pieces by Gesualdo as well as Palestrina. I don’t know how many times I must have sat with my jaw open in amazement at the polyphony as it resolved from one unexpected harmony to another. The Gesualdo Six are a British vocal consort, the members being young men all seemingly in their twenties. Easily the most impressive concert experience of the year.
And yet as soon as I say that I realize how ridiculous it is given the abundance of great music taking place in NYC at all times. No sooner had I made that determination than another vocal ensemble demonstrated how early polyphonic could be approached in a number of different ways. The ensemble, calling themselves Demestvo, presented a concert entitled “Lost Polyphonies”, also part of the Gotham Early Music Scene series. Works from France, Georgia, Russia, England and Greece, some of which had not been performed in over 300 years, touched upon the richness of polyphony across different cultures. This ensemble being composed of female vocalists their higher range was often bracing in its ringing starkness.
Passings…
There have been a number of passings in the musical community that I’ve wanted to write about but sometimes it feels like more than I can meet in words. Wayne Shorter’s passing in 2023 was one of them. With the more recent passing of Jack DeJohnette I feel an urgency given that he was part of so much music that defined the time I was coming up even as I could never do justice to addressing his legacy.
Perhaps the record I loved the most was “Special Edition” released by ECM in 1980 featuring Arthur Blythe, David Murray and Peter Warren. I had never heard saxophones played quite that way, reminiscent of the past but with a language and edge that spoke unabashedly to the present moment. “Special Edition” performed at the Left Bank Jazz Society in Baltimore that same year. It left a lasting impact just at the time I was about to leave my home town and it remains one of the highlights of my concert memories. It was recorded for radio broadcast, a portion of which is posted on YouTube. There is so much more I could say about him and that time, it’s all simply too big at the moment.
I would also like to acknowledge the passing of tubist Joseph Daley who I had the pleasure of playing with as a part of drummer Phil Haynes’ 4 Horn band as well as two of my own recording projects, “Figure of Speech” from 1991 and “Ramifications” from 1999. Joseph performed with saxophonist Sam Rivers in the 70’s and went on to collaborate with a wide array of important artists while maintaining a lasting teaching career. He had a sound every bit as warm as his personality.
One essence, multiple perspectives…
A couple of years back I made contact with Andreas van Zoelen, tenor saxophonist in the Raschèr Quartet, an ensemble that I’ve long been fascinated with and hope to hear live one day. Andreas is also a dedicated researcher on the history of our instrument. In his PhD thesis on the Raschèr tradition, he interviews Carina Raschèr, longtime soprano saxophonist for the Raschèr Quartet and daughter of its founder Sigurd Raschèr.
Carina Raschèr: …I do remember however, when I was rather young, we had a conversation about time and space. Which has kept me pondering for many years. Still does.
Andreas van Zoelen: How’s that?
Carina Raschèr: The question was “Do you have to have space and time to make music?” Can music be understood in its concept form or does it have to be played in reality? In other words, you put the tones into the molecules of air, you make the waves in the air, you get them to sing, physically that’s all that music is. Then it gets to the ear and passes on the message. SMR often talked about the circle it makes. About the composer having an inspiration, and again, father was not shy talking about spiritual things, which I thought was great. So, you have an inspiration, you write a piece, then it goes to the performer, and he puts this into space and time. And not before! The composer doesn’t do this. Now it goes to the listener. This listener is again moved inside, in his being, in other words, it goes back to its origin from where it came, and you’ve built the bridge to the spiritual world again. That is the whole point, the whole power of music. To have it be a spiritual experience.
This was a bit surprising to read at first but upon some reflection it seems wholly appropriate. These are of course very personal feelings and perhaps not everyone is so comfortable speaking in this way. It’s refreshing however to hear talk of music in these terms within the context of a particular artistic tradition within a larger western tradition, one that often tends towards emphasizing intellect and discipline over notions of imagination or spirituality. Further in his thesis Andreas offers the following quote from the maestro:
"We have already mentioned the ‘mental ear.’ It needs to be active all the time. It observes, experiences, ‘hears’ the non-acoustical, non-material, but spiritual image of the tone you are about to produce. With a vivid tone imagination, all the efforts of lungs, embouchure and fingers really center on the actual re-creation of this spiritual tone, producing the acoustical phenomenon ‘sound’. Now you are a creative musician and your listener will not fail to sense it." (Sigurd Raschèr, the Raschèr Reader (Fredonia State University of New York, 2014, 73.)
This strikes me as being completely correct. And yet as simple and natural as that is I also recognize that in practice it may at times seem elusive given the discrepancy between what we are imagining and what we are actually hearing from the instrument. An ideal sound is always our goal and yet how often to you feel you’ve got it, as in one hundred percent? I might go so far as to say that it is by its very nature elusive. And sometimes that may become a hindrance should we feel frustrated with the results.
Occasionally I will advise a student to concentrate completely on the physicality of playing the instrument, using the breath without any expectation towards making an idealized sound at all, simply hear whatever comes out without trying to adjust or change it. This can be quite surprising especially to those students who are concerned with making a “personal” sound or finding their own “voice”. Allowing for the unpredictability of raw sound can however act as a natural way to shape sound rather than impose upon it. The legendary flutist Watazumi Doso’s practice was to concentrate on the quality of the breath first and foremost. The sound produced may not have been possible by other means.
“[The] ability to be free in his music was the result of Doso’s life-long, unrelenting commitment to the discipline of the breath. He actually wasn’t very interested in the shakuhachi as a musical instrument. He called his flute suijo, which loosely translates as ‘concentrated breathing tool.’ Doso saw himself not so much as a musician or entertainer, but as one who is totally devoted to developing his life force – chi – by utilizing and strengthening his breath. The bamboo flute was simply a tool for that practice. He said once, ‘Since I must have some way of knowing how my breath is doing, I blow into a piece of bamboo and hear how it sounds.’ The Zen of Creativity: Cultivating Your Artistic Life by John Daido Loori
“So in that sound you have to put in your guts, your strength and your own specialness. And what you are putting in then is your own Life and your own Life Force. When you hear some music or hear some sound, if for some reason you like it very well; the reason is that sound is in balance or in harmony with your pulse. And so making a sound, you try to make various different sounds that imitate various different sounds of the universe, but what you are finally making is your own sound, the sound of yourself.”
To my mind, Raschèr’s “spiritual” sound and Watazumi’s talk of “the sound of yourself” are not at all different even if the perspectives may seem so. In the end, it’s important to understand that at the time you are making the sound, there is only the sound, not where it came from or where it’s going. It is a result but also a genesis. Perhaps it’s unnecessary to talk about given how naturally it happens. It should also be pointed out that knowing this will not make you a better musician in and of itself, we must practice. Otherwise this all simply becomes a form of ideology.
Personally, I try not to rest in ideology as a way of life, especially ideologies I might be inclined to agree with!
Upcoming…
Pianist Sylvie Courvoisier has invited me to perform in duo at The Stone, Friday, February 20th at 8:30 pm.
Located in The New School’s Glass Box Theater, 55 West 13th Street, NYC.
Expanded Programmation View...
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