In the Autumn of 2012, Wilson “Chembo” Corniel, Jr. released what became one of my favorite albums of all time, entitled Afro Blue Monk. It was filled with brilliant compositions from Mongo Santamaria, Thelonious Monk and more. The band was hot and Chembo brought forward some of the coolest music of the last decade. After all, he is the Master of the Tumbadoras.

Three and one-half years later, the Chembo Corniel Quintet has returned with Land of the Descendants (American Showplace Music ASM3108). Of the quintet, only Frank Fontaine (saxophones and flute) and Chembo himself remain. But don’t lose heart, this incarnation of the Quintet has lost nothing in the exchange and the Master is still the Master.

With percussionist Chembo Corniel are, as mentioned, Frank Fontaine, who composes and arranges two songs and arranges Chembo’s original plus Billy Strayhorn’s Lush Life, and Darwin Noguera on acoustic piano, Ian Stewart on electric bass and drummer Joel Mateo who contributes an original composition/arrangement of his own. Guest artists include Kat Gang—who is the vocalist for Lush Life—and James Zollar on trumpet, in addition to several other percussionists. Fontaine is the chief arranger for Land of the Descendants, the role played by pianist Elio Villafranca for Afro Blue Monk.

The idea behind Land of the Descendants is stated by Chembo himself, saying, “I am proud to embrace and transmit what has been passed on to me… Land of the Descendants, a reflection of the here and now, deeply rooted in the African-based rhythms and Nuyorican Jazz. It is my contribution to the growing body of work that represents our musical heritage.”

Chembo draws on music from Strayhorn to Sonny Stitt to contemporary composers and artists to create the feeling of our inherited culture and how we can build and expand that culture without conquest but through a shared understanding of what touches us all. We are all descendants and we owe a debt that cannot be repaid except through perpetuation.

Descendants—composed and arranged by Takeo Heisho—opens the album. James Zollar makes the first of four appearances on this piece, along with Victor Rendon and Cascadu, both on the batás. The introduction is provided by the piano and bass with the whole group jumping in with great and joyous rhythms. The pace is electrifying and Fontaine and Zollar bring the brass with flair and bravado. Zollar’s trumpet trills is exciting stuff.

All the while, pianist Darwin Noguera keeps a minimalist melodic line that rolls heavy with the percussionists. There is a brief period, near the beginning, that is almost a moment of meditation, only to be exploded into those smoking rhythms and horns.

Now this is how to kick off an album.

El Antillano, composed and arranged by drummer Joel Mateo, creates a great dialogue between Fontaine’s sax and Noguera’s piano. The rolling then galloping rhythm set by Chembo is met with the percussive playing of Fontaine and Noguera. A rhythmic delight.

Chembo’s original, Transparent Souls, opens with a lovely piano introduction that sounds like it came from 1950s Havana. The swing and movement of the piano is brilliant and the flute and violin create the perfect harmony for the tango rhythms that swell.

The flavors of African rhythms and Latin melodies are easily seen and experienced through the transparency of our mixed and enriched culture. The wonderful tonality of Chembo’s playing is rich against the smooth but vibrant playing of the rhythm section. This may be my favorite piece on the whole album.

Straddling the track list are two standout Jazz classics: Lush Life by Billy Strayhorn and Night Letter by Sonny Stitt. Lush Life has the added attraction of Kat Gang’s single vocal appearance on the album. Pianist Darwin Noguera arranged the standard for the album. Ms. Gang is a wonderful guest artist and contributes such cool Jazz delivery. Noguera is equal to the task of accompaniment with delicate touch and phrasing. Ian Stewart’s bass is smooth and supportive.

The easy percussion accentuates the dance-step embrace of the quintet’s movement. The understated rhythm is like a whisper that commands attention.

Stitt’s Night Letter follows with the funky twists of Stewart’s bass intro that opens the portals for the quintet’s solid swing. As surely as Strayhorn contributed to our land of descendants’ culture and spirit, Sonny Stitt’s forthright swing and swagger is equally important to who we are.

The rip of the sax, the runs of the piano and the throbbing bass with set-upon drums reveal what is solid in us and what allows for the open-hearted proclamations of sax and trumpet—our voices heard loudly as we endeavor to speak truth to one another.

Two pieces by Frank Fontaine follow. Bottoms Up is a tongue-in-cheek summersault of bass and percussion overtop the melodies. The deep bass gets a prime spotlight in what must be Stewart’s most prominent moments on the album. The piano reacts in melodic intensity while the bass drops down with the percussion and makes clear space for brief moments of sax interruption. The broken five-counts are ear-catching and memorable.

Parisian Cha, Fontaine’s second original, provides a great exchange for Zollar and Fontaine while the rhythm section gives a clinic in the straightforward cha-cha-cha so adored everywhere, always and by all. The percussiveness of the piano with its melodic breaks keeps the rhythm with the drums and bass as Chembo solos magnificently.

The album concludes with Rick Faulner’s Newtown. The sax of Frank Fontaine is set against a full-set rhythm section of Chembo and Mateo along with Yasuyo Kimora on cajón base and Ken Yanabe on cajón repicador.

Noguera has perhaps his most impressive moment in the middle section over against Fontaine’s mournful sax. The playfulness and smothered by the melancholy and regret. The heartbeats slow to silence in the end.

This, too, is who we are and what we share: the grief, the joy, the laughter, the tears. It is a shared heritage that we adopt and to which we adapt. We are all descended from Africa and the African-based rhythms touch us on our deepest levels. Our melodies come from all over the globe but our rhythms have a foothold in our place of shared origins.

In the Land of the Descendants, we can rejoice in our shared and unsheltered culture. It reminds me of the lines from the poet Rumi, "Come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It does not matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again. Come, come."

Listening to Chembo Corniel and his Quintet is an experience in understanding, compassion and love. 

It has been two agonizing years since the release of Melissa Aldana and Crash Trio (early 2014), the album released on Concord Records as part of her winning the Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition in 2013. That was her third album as leader, following Free Fall and Second Cycle on Greg Osby’s Inner Circle Music label.

Those first two albums were set in the quartet format and drew great attention from various quarters. I was among those who saw in Melissa Aldana a passion and virtuosity and drive that would set her apart. I have watched and listened with rapt interest ever since.

After the release of Melissa Aldana and Crash Trio, she toured the world in festivals and concerts across the planet. She has gained an international following that is sure to grow even further with the release of her latest album, Back Home.

At first, the title may seem to suggest a return to Chile, her country of origin, but it is not so blinkard as that. According to Melissa herself, it refers to Sonny Rollins and the first time she heard Rollins and began to investigate his approach to the trio. In fact, she wrote to song Back Home for Sonny Rollins.

There is also a reference to first hearing the ballad My Ship with her dad. It was her father—Marcos Aldana—who was her music instructor. First on alto sax, then after hearing Sonny Rollins, she switched to tenor sax, which her grandfather, Enrique Aldana. Look at the art work and publicity photos of Melissa Aldana and you will see her affectionately holding her grandfather’s Selmer Mark VI tenor sax which she still plays.

She has been with management agency Word of Mouth Music for years now but Back Home is her first album with the Wommusic label (WOM0006). Anders Chan-Tidemann, president of Word of Mouth Music, has devotedly and enthusiastically championed Melissa Aldana. The man knows talent.

I asked Chan-Tidemann about Melissa and the album and he gave his response with his usual zealousness for all-things-Melissa.

“Melissa has that extra touch of magic that focuses your mind in on what you recognize as something mysterious—the inevitable logic of an idea you could never have thought of yourself. But, after you’ve heard it presented this way, you know that’s the way it had to be. Melissa’s album Back Home is rich in those moments and we, at Wommusic, couldn’t be happier than to be a part of her team and to help tell her story.”

The album is, to be sure, “rich in those moments.”

The trio on Back Home is Melissa with Pablo Menares again on bass and, this time, with Jochen Rueckert on drums. Rueckert brings a different approach than did Francisco Mela, Melissa’s previous drummer. There is a different understanding between this trio and the groups that have performed with Melissa before.

In addition, their compositional skills are top-rate, with Melissa composing four of the nine tracks, two tracks each for Menares and Rueckert and only one cover. That cover, as stated before, is My Ship by Weill and Gershwin.

But the album is launched by Melissa’s original, Alegria. The word itself means “joy” and this is just what Melissa recreates and shares. Rueckert’s drums provide the introduction in an upbeat frivolity. The sax at first offers a repose, a rest in the contentment of joy because joy does not always mean excited-ness or even happiness but is, rather, a deeper sense of connectivity and peace. That connectivity is exemplified in the artistic oneness of the trio in cooperation.

Melissa’s sax is the extension of her own personal joy in her love for family and music and, one would imagine, the people that she meets.'

Desde La Lluvia is Pablo Menares’ first composition of the album. The title is best translated as “from the rain.” Melissa’s solos are lovely and warm. Rueckert’s rhythmic choices jump out at the listener in contrast to the walking bass and the personal sax. The washing cymbals and punched drum strokes are like rivulets of water and rolling thunder behind the delicacy of the rain itself.

It is a cool swing and is the perfect example of the vulnerability of the single melodic instrument. In the liner notes, Ashley Kahn comments “Then trio format can really leave the saxophonist so naked,” to which Melissa responds, “Yeah, I love it.” One can almost see the grin on her face.

Obstacles is the first written offering from drummer Jochen Rueckert. Probably the most quickly-paced track on the album, it alternates between two tempos as if the trio must slow down to navigate the “obstacle” before resuming the stepped-up movement. Menares himself navigates the bass lines brilliantly and proves why he is Melissa’s bassist of choice for so long.

En Otro Lugar (“In another place”) is the second piece by Menares. The introduction is provided by Menares own solo bass. It is sweet and all-too-short but beautifully provides the entrance for Melissa’s haunting tenor sax interpretation of Menares’ intent.

The disillusion with here is expressing so well by Melissa’s use of bent notes. With every album, with every song within every album, Melissa proves why she is the present and future of Jazz sax. Solidly incorporating the styles and techniques of those who have gone before, she is able to use that as her vocabulary with which to write the story of what is to come. She is miraculous.

My Ship, the only cover, comes at the mid-point of the album. There is a certain strategy to that, I think. It serves as her own reminder of what once was, musically, with her dear father as they listened to ballads together and how that stills serves as a centerpiece or focal point to what surrounds.

The languid ballad is treated affectionately by the Melissa and Pablo and the pacing extends the reminiscence into the present. She shows how this classic, and so many others, has become part of her. But what is truly amazing on My Ship is that it is done without Reuckert!

Again, Anders Chan-Tidemann points out, "I think it's because both Melissa and Pablo plays with such rhythmic assurance
but also because of what precedes the track and comes after it." This is one of those great examples of the strength of great programming. The track arrangement has truly enhanced the overall effect.

Servant #2 is Rueckert’s second song on the album. A slower-paced swing, it is often interrupted by the revival of the introduction to the piece. The full stops keep the trio tight. Melissa’s melodic lines are cool as can be and Rueckert’s own bass solo is great work.

This is a unique composition. It is like listening to science-fiction Jazz. The ideas are futuristic and full of fun and intrigue.

Before You was written for Melissa’s boyfriend while she away on her Homeresque tours. Like Odysseus, she had someone waiting at home, also. This was for the guy who was waiting for her return. There is a dance-like quality with almost solo-dancing inferences—perhaps like dancing before a mirror. While there is movement and contentment, there remains a feeling of space-as-yet-unfilled. Melancholy without sadness.

Time is another Melissa original and is her own personal reflection of the days, months and years that have passed since leaving her beloved Santiago, Chile. She speaks of being “very emotional, it was raining and there was a change of seasons and I came up with that tune out of nostalgia, thinking of my life up until now.”

There are bright moments, some darker episodes—even some sadness—but there remains that joy that is the heart and soul of Melissa Aldana. It is an exquisite piece.

The album concludes with the title track, Back Home. There is a more apparent camaraderie and interaction, playfulness and trust, as the trio releases a robust shout of growth and maturity unheard before. What was first hinted in Melissa Aldana and Crash Trio has become a proclamation with both the album and the song Back Home. The logic of the Jazz and the inevitability of the composition, indeed, makes this one of those moments of an album “rich in those moments.”

Back Home was surely worth the wait. Melissa Aldana with Pablo Menares and Jochen Rueckert were the right trio to make this album as penetrating and mature as it should be. Melissa never ceases to amaze, intrigue and inspire.

It is a fascinating thing, watching this young woman—seen riding a bike with her grandfather’s tenor sax strapped across her back in the inner fold of the album jacket—with the energy and fun of youth but the skill and drive of someone much older. She grows and grows with each performance and recording.

She has often been called “a rising star” but that says too little about her prowess and maturity and conviction. More than a rising star, she is as bright and permanent as the Sun. Melissa Aldana is one of the greats now. In my review of her previous album, I said, “It is not too early to call her great.” I meant it then and I mean it even more now.

She is wonderful.
 


~Travis Rogers, Jr, is The Jazz Owl



To read my review of Melissa Aldana & Crash Trio, go here: http://travisrogersjr.weebly.com/a-love-of-music/melissa-aldana-crash-trio-it-is-not-too-early-to-call-her-great
To see my review of Second Cycle, go here: http://travisrogersjr.weebly.com/a-love-of-music/second-cyclethe-new-release-from-melissa-aldana

Last Thursday, March 10, 2016, the legendary keyboardist Keith Emerson passed away at his home in Santa Monica, California. He was 71 years old and, at first hearing the sad news, I wondered what natural cause took the life of such an influential keyboardist and composer.

Although I was a listener to classical music at an early age, it was Keith Emerson’s adaptations with the progressive rock band Emerson, Lake and Palmer that opened that particular door a little further. I did not know the music of Modest Mussorgsky until I heard the ELP album “Pictures at an Exhibition.”

Famed music director Jim Scheuer commented on his Facebook page, “Keith Emerson and ELP introduced me to a lot of classical music. This [The Barbarian from their first album] was my first exposure to the music of Béla Bartók.”

Indeed, Emerson adapted Aaron Copland’s Hoedown, Hubert Parry’s Jerusalem and so much more, giving young rock listeners a fine taste of what they might have been missing in the classical world.

Emerson first came to attention with an early progressive rock band called The Nice. The music of that group charted the path that ELP would later follow. In 1970, Emerson, Lake and Palmer’s self-titled debut album appeared and, straightaway, Emerson began adapting classical pieces—in this case, the above-mentioned The Barbarian from Bartok. The succeeding albums carried on the custom.

Then came 1977 and the ELP album Works appeared. To this day, it remains my favorite of all the ELP albums—for several reasons.

It was a two-record set with each member getting his own “side” of a disc to express himself as he pleased. Guitarist and vocalist Greg Lake’s side contained nice pieces such as C’est la Vie and Nobody Loves You Like I Do.

Drummer Carl Palmer actually took a page from Emerson and included a track entitled The Enemy God Dances with the Black Spirits which was an adaptation from Sergei Prokofiev’s The Scythian Suite. That side also included an adaptation from J.S. Bach’s Two Part Invention in D Minor. And these were rock-and-rollers.

Keith Emerson’s side was wonderful to me. The complete side was filled with Emerson’s own composition entitled Piano Concerto No. 1 in, of course, three movements. This was something that I had wanted him to do for years. He had proven that he had the classical chops for performing but now he was showing what he could do with the pen, as well. I loved it.

But it was the fourth side, the side belonging to the whole group that grabbed me most. There were only two songs on that side. The first was Aaron Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man. Magnificent.

This was the thing, though: Emerson had to get Aaron Copland’s permission to use the piece. The band’s manager called the publishing company and they refused to even forward the request to Copland. Stewart Young, ELP’s manager, was able to get Copland’s phone number and called him. According to Young, Copland said, “Send it over to me and let me listen.”
Copland loved it. In fact, the BBC interviewed Aaron Copland just before he passed away.

He said, “…it's very flattering to have one's music adopted by so popular a group, and so good a group as Emerson, Lake & Palmer. A lot depends on what they do with what they take, and naturally since I have a copyright on such material, they're not able to take it without my permission; so that in each case, where I have given my permission, there was something that attracted me about the version that they perform, which made me think I'd like to allow them to release it. Of course, I always prefer my own version best, but (laughs) what they do is really around the piece, you might say, rather than a literal transposition of the piece, and they're a gifted group. In that particular case, I allowed it to go by because when they first play it, they play it fairly straight and when they end the piece, they play it very straight. What they do in the middle, I'm not sure exactly how they connect that with my music but (laughs) they do it someway!”

To have such a composer as Aaron Copland enjoy what has been adapted must have been incredibly rewarding.

The final track was called Pirates. Sometime before, ELP had been commissioned to write the soundtrack to a movie about mercenaries. The movie would later be made (The Dogs of War) but without the ELP soundtrack.

With this momentous piece of music, ELP decided to rework it into something else. Pirates was the result. The nautical movement of the music and the vivid lyrics were captivating to me. I had always loved pirate stories (Treasure Island and Kidnapped) and movies (Captain Blood and Fire Over England) and this was my cup of tea.

The albums continued for some years and I loved them all. Emerson continued working in all the intervening years. A few years ago, however, he required surgery on his right hand and arm. He had increasing trouble with the nerves in his hand and arm. Emerson’s girlfriend, Mari Kawaguchi, was interviewed by London’s Daily Mail newspaper.

She told them, “He had concerts coming up in Japan and even though they hired a back-up keyboard player to support him, Keith was worried. He read all the criticism online and was a sensitive soul. Last year he played concerts and people posted mean comments such as, 'I wish he would stop playing.' He was tormented with worry that he wouldn't be good enough. He was planning to retire after Japan. He didn't want to let down his fans. He was a perfectionist and the thought he wouldn't play perfectly made him depressed, nervous and anxious.”

And the great Keith Emerson took how own life.

How sad that the composer admired by Copland, the keyboardist admired by other greats like Rick Wakeman, Patrick Moraz and others, and the man admired by all who knew him, should suffer at the words of those whose opinions mean nothing.

I would rather hear Keith Emerson in his twilight than most any other in their noonday.