Mike Holober and the Gotham Jazz Orchestra
‘This Rock We’re On’
Palmetto Records

“This Rock We’re On,” the new release by a veteran composer and bandleader, Mike Holober, and his Gotham Jazz Orchestra, starts out very small, like the sun coming out and a new day beginning in a woodland setting. The first track, “Lay Of The Land,” begins with what sounds like the wind whistling through the trees — or is it rainfall? Listening to the album, my first thought was that we were hearing an actual field recording mixed into the music.  

Yet when Mr. Holober performed the work live at Aaron Davis Hall at City College on the release day, I realized that it was percussionist James Shipp who created that sound using a rainstick, or some other such instrument. The sound of the leaves is soon joined by the tinkling of a gentle stream, as represented by the composer on piano, and then one of the reed players on flute, simulating a bird song. 

The quiet is brief; a minute or so in, the horns are upon us, and the forest scene is now lively and bustling. A formidable tenor saxophonist, Chris Potter, then steps into center stage and becomes the focal point for the rest of the opening track.

That “This Rock We’re On” starts out so intimately is notable in that the first thing we notice about the work is its epic scope. Mr. Holober utilizes a full-size jazz big band, with five reeds, four trumpets, and four trombones plus guitar, bass, two drummers, and the leader’s own multiple keyboards, as well as about a half a dozen additional musicians and performers. The suite — if we may call it that — consists of 17 movements; the recording fills two CDs and the concert lasted well over two-and-a-half hours.  

Such a large canvas is necessary because of the subject matter: the entirety of the natural world, and with it, the implicit need to protect the planet, i.e., this rock we are on.   

Mr. Holober is a contemporary jazz composer out of the lineage of Gil Evans, Bob Brookmeyer, Jim McNeely, and the other writers who composed for the Thad Jones / Mel Lewis / Village Vanguard Jazz Orchestra. This also makes him a first cousin, stylistically, to Maria Schneider. He writes with a light and airy sound — no matter how many horns are playing at once and how loud they’re blasting — that suits this particular topic very well.

He differs from his predecessors and contemporaries in that, in this work especially, he’s more interested in programmatic music, as in music that’s about something other than the music itself, and in lyrics and songs. “This Rock We’re On” is subtitled “Imaginary Letters”; it is a unique concept that requires some explanation.  

At least to my ears, the music reflects the planet itself: You hear forests, deserts, mountains, valleys, mighty rivers, and oceans.  The text is directly inspired by six thought leaders, present and past, in the ecology movement, among them Terry Tempest Williams and Rachel Carson.  

To that end, the composer has written six “imaginary letters” from these naturalist colossi, sometimes from one to another.  These pieces are the jazz equivalent of lieder — the art song tradition of European classical music. As sung by the deep-voiced Brazilian soprano Jamile Staevie Ayres, they don’t sound like show tunes or jazz standards. 

Apart from Ms. Ayres, the primary soloist is the cellist Jody Redhage Ferber, whose resonant instrument and versatile playing, both improvising and playing Mr. Holober’s music as written, is a major part of nearly every track.

It’s anything but a complaint that the music is so exciting that for long stretches during the concert we were strictly enjoying Mr. Holober’s vivid palette of colorful sounds, rather than mentally dwelling on his larger message. The piece that had us cheering the loudest occurs early in the second half: “Tower Pulse” starts somewhat baroque with a fugal figure played by Ms. Ferber.  When guitarist Nir Felder and the horns join in, it shifts to something more like a funk backbeat, and along the way, imperceptibly shifts again to something closer to swingtime, and eventually Chris Potter takes charge once more.  

It was more difficult to concentrate on the texts at the concert because Ms. Ayres was deliberately mixed into the ensemble, more like an instrument than a human voice, which made it tough to follow the words. It’s worth the effort on pieces like “Noetry,” an imaginary letter written from the perspective of a tree; “I’ve stood here for a thousand years / Lived through your wars and drank your tears.” On the album, her voice is more prominent, and a libretto is provided.

The most touching instrumental is “Dear Virginia,” which is essentially a trio of Mr. Holober’s piano plus the storied, 85-year-old trumpet master Marvin Stamm and tenor saxophonist Virginia Mayhew. This follows “To Virginia,” sung by Ms. Ayres, the text being taken from a letter to Ms. Mayhew from her grandfather, who, it turns out, was Ansel Adams, a legendary nature photographer.

The work concludes with what might be its most ambitious section, the title track. “This Rock We’re On” features three distinct human voices in a kind of recitative or parlando: Ms. Ayres, a brief speech read by percussionist James Shipp, and a touching performance by a child singer, Ronan Rigby: “Birds in the sky / Fish in the sea / Take care of them / And me.” The use of these invocations gives the last track the general feeling of a prayer; in fact, some may find this piece reminiscent of Leonard Bernstein’s famous “Mass” (1971). 

This is a work that requires multiple hearings: at least one to process the text and the message, and more than that just to enjoy the sounds. Like our planet, music is a precious gift that we have to take care of.