The Subtle Septet
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.
We tend to think of Latin American music as if it were just one thing, but, as bassist and bandleader Charlie Haden demonstrates this week at the Village Vanguard, the term covers even more geographical and cultural ground than would an equivalent “European Music.” Despite common Spanish and African origins, the styles of, say, Mexico and Cuba are more different from each other than, say, those of England and Poland.
The Brazilian bossa nova, the Argentine tango, and the Cuban mambo have all made a lasting impression on international jazz and pop, but Mexico tends to get short shrift. We associate it with short guys in big hats, bigger mustaches and even bigger guitars – or worse, the Tijuana Brass. The reason this music isn’t as known as it might be, as Mr. Haden and his Septet make clear, is its subtlety.
It has none of the sharply angular accents of tango or the catchy, shifting polyrhythms of salsa. It’s centered on intricate melody and less driven by rhythm than other Latin forms (in fact at the Vanguard there’s only one percussionist, Antonio Sanchez, and he plays North American-style trap drums). At the Vanguard Mr. Haden and Co. play with quiet intensity; they know that the more softly you speak, the harder people will listen. On Wednesday night, the crowd was so quiet that the only sound apart from the music was that of ice swishing in people’s drinks.
The songwriter Armando Manzanero had two hit songs that became standards, neither of which is generally thought of as Mexican: “Yesterday I Heard the Rain” – which is generally done as a bossa nova and therefore presumed to be Brazilian – and “It’s Impossible,” associated with Perry Como – which I and many others always assumed was Italian. Manzanero is one of three composers represented on Mr. Haden’s outstanding new album, “Land of the Sun” (Verve B0002887-02), alongside Augustine Lara and Jose Sabre Marroquin, whose work makes up the bulk of the album.
It seems that a few years after Mr. Haden recorded one of Marroquin’s tunes, “Nocturne,” he received a whole book of the late composer’s music from his family. Marroquin is generally described as a classical composer, though he also scored the soundtracks for a dozen or so Mexican films. But to say his music is not widely heard outside of Mexico would be an understatement.
As played by Mr. Haden both at the Vanguard and on “Land of the Sun,” it is sublimely beautiful. It comes closest to bolero in form and rhythm, but is softer and gentler. The closest thing to it I have heard is the work of more formal Rio-born classical com poser Heitor Villa-Lobos. It also reminded me of the soft African plains style compositions of Dollar Brand.
The project is a collaboration between Mr. Haden and star Cuban pianist Gonzalo Rubalcaba (who also has a new CD, “Paseo,” Blue Note 81832). Rubalcaba wrote all the arrangements and his live style is very different from anything I have ever heard from him or any Cuban keyboardist. He completely abandons such familiar devices as clave patterns, montunos, and Cubanesque-octave playing.
In addition to the three rhythm, the Vanguard lineup features four horns: Miguel Zenon (alto sax), Michael Rodriguez (trumpet and flugelhorn), Oriente Lopez (flute), and two alternating guest stars on tenor sax, David Sanchez and Joe Lovano. Each composition is played by a different combination of the horns, and only on the first and last did the entire ensemble all play together.
Live, the music had a slight bebop edge to it. Although the rhythm section continued to play super-slowly – we’re talking Shirley Horn-on-valium slowly – the horns frequently double-timed their improvisations. Mr. Rodriguez displayed a tone and approach that reminded me of Chet Baker, often playing his trumpet soft enough to blend sonorously with the flute – at times he was even overpowered by it.
With all due respect to David Sanchez, a fine young tenorist, I lucked out by picking a night featuring Mr. Lovano. He played throughout with a dry, ashen tone reminiscent of Lucky Thompson, and his breathy, Ben Webster-like exhalations were spotlighted on “Yesterday I Heard the Rain” – just tenor and trio.
Mr. Haden only took one extended bass solo in the whole set, but he was still the most compelling presence in the group. I have listened intensely and in person to solos by such great bassists as Ron Carter, Dave Holland, and Jay Leonhart in the last few months, and I haven’t heard anyone who sings on the instrument as eloquently and expressively as Mr. Haden. He never plays or talks above a whisper, and even though the bass was under-miced, every note and thought was still crystal clear.