Mort Weiss - All Too Soon

Styles: Clarinet Jazz
Year: 2008
File: MP3@320K/s
Time: 67:45
Size: 169,7 MB
Art: Front

(3:58)  1. Scrapple From The Apple
(5:54)  2. Softly As In A Morning Sunrise
(6:01)  3. Blue Monk
(5:38)  4. Be My Love
(5:44)  5. Django
(5:40)  6. Dearly Beloved
(5:48)  7. O Grande Amor
(5:59)  8. Afternoon In Paris
(5:45)  9. Emily
(5:36) 10. Like Someone In Love
(7:12) 11. If You Could See Me Now
(4:24) 12. No More Blues

Not the least of this album's attractions is the title. To those few listeners familiar with the tune, "All Too Soon" might summon up one of Duke Ellington's more obscure compositions, were it included in the disc's playlist of no fewer than a dozen jazz "classics." Or it could be a reminder of the irreparable loss to the music as a result of the recent, premature death of clarinetist Mort Weiss' brilliant bassist, Dave Carpenter, to whose memory the album is dedicated. But to anyone familiar with the Mort Weiss Story, All Too Soon represents the life and career of the remarkable musician who, after shelving his axe some 45 years ago, suddenly burst back on the scene with several head-turning albums recorded with major players, ranging from veteran reedman Sam Most to organist Joey De Francesco. The key to the album's title is most likely held by the poet Robert Browning, who wrote: "Come grow old with me the best is yet to be." One suspects that with All Too Soon the clarinetist is saying, in effect, "I couldn't agree more, but did we have to get here so quickly?" Weiss has had quite a ride, and the present album, recorded on the day of his 73rd birthday, is at once a culmination of his journey and simply another milestone in the career of an artist who, above all, relishes his time along with the opportunities each increasingly precious moment offers for continued learning and growth. Besides testifying to Weiss' extraordinary achievement, All Too Soon must be seen as a resoundingly successful statement by guitarist Ron Eschete. Always a respected musician but rarely mentioned in the same breath with a Jim Hall or Joe Pass, a Russell Malone or Pat Metheny, Eschete demonstrates with this duo album that he's inarguably a charter member of the same exclusive fraternity of guitarists who can solo and accompany, donning a dazzling array of musical hats while never displacing attention from the music to the legerdemain of his own versatility. The telepathy between Weiss and Eschete brings to mind similar stunning duo recordings such as those featuring Hall and pianist Bill Evans (Undercurrent, Blue Note 1963), Pass and pianist Oscar Peterson (Live a la Salle Pleyel, Pablo 1975), Malone and Bennie Green (Bluebird, Telarc 2004), and Metheny and pianist Brad Mehldau (Metheny Mehldau, Nonesuch 2006). But whereas each of those sessions included a virtuoso keyboard player, on All Too Soon the full responsibility for the time and harmony, the chord voicings and accompaniment patterns, the melodic choruses and motivic counterstatments is on the guitarist. To say the least, Eschete carries the load, and does so all the more impressively for shouldering the burden so lightly.

On the opener, Charlie Parker's "Scrapple from the Apple," taken at a faster tempo than any recorded by Parker in full flight, Weiss and Eschete tear through the head in unison, with the exception of the bridge, on which the latter switches to rhythm guitar, sounding like Freddie Green on steroids. During Weiss' first flaming solo, however, the guitarist comps like a pianist, allowing the time to be implied by the momentum established in the melodic lines of the clarinet. His own solo alternates single notes with chords and seamlessly stitches the joint between treble and bass registers of his 7-string instrument. Like a rare vintage Bordeaux, Weiss' tone seems to acquire complexity and richness with each passing year. Its glowing, lustrous quality in the mid and lower registers of the horn begins to shine through on "Softly As in a Morning Sunrise" and the ensuing "Blue Monk," especially when Eschete's closely-blocked chord voicings augment the clarinet's lead, frequently adding a major 7th or dissonant tone to the cluster, imparting engaging tension to a melodic statement performed in lock-step by clarinet and guitar. On the quasi-operatic "Be My Love," Weiss is a hawk in its ethereal element suddenly swooping down upon its prey (or rather a full-throated E below middle C) and then back up again to savor the product of his labors. His appetite is hardly satisfied, however. On John Lewis' "Django" the clarinetist doesn't rest until he locates terra firma yet a half step lower, and on Tadd Dameron's "If You Could See Me Now" he manages yet another half step, scooping up with effortless ease the low D that begins the tune's ascending melodic phrase. The tones are securely full and "fat," and the slow vibrato that Weiss imparts to them is less suggestive of another clarinetist than of tenor saxophonist Ben Webster. With a player like Eschete, who simultaneously walks bass lines and plays chords in real time, the horn player's challenge of maintaining rhythmic flow is minimized if not eliminated. For the guitarist, the task at hand is considerably greater, requiring the employment of a variety of techniques. Like the late pianist Dave McKenna and a select group of musicians, Eschete has the facility to solo effectively whether using chords or single-note phrases over his own bass lines but is careful not to place over-reliance on the device. More often, it's the swing generated by his thoughtful, inventive lines, along with an implied rhythm, that assures a complete and unbroken narrative sweep to each of his offerings. Besides taking turns with individual solos, the pair trade fours ("Dearly Beloved"), eights ("Like Someone in Love"), and occasionally allow the conversation to heat up and converge into full-blown fugues ("Softly As in a Morning Sunrise," "Afternoon in Paris").

Despite the employment of such varied approaches, the listener's focus throughout is on the continuous and cohesive unfolding of a purposeful collective musical result. The late tenor saxophonist Al Cohn once said that, contrary to some of the hyped theory and method books about improvising, his primary principle was simply to listen and above all, to himself. Rather than let a single note "go to waste," even a mistake, take note of that note so that it can be repeated, altered, and developed in permutations that generate more permutations, ultimately assuring a statement that's marked by completeness, unity and organic form. As a result of Weiss and Eschete listening not merely to each other but intently to themselves, All Too Soon exemplifies jazz as it should and can be: free, spontaneous, in the moment but at the same time a representation of musical democracy in action.Not that it's a "perfect" recording. The alteration of the verbal accents for the lyric of Tadd Dameron's timeless tune is a tad distracting; on some of the up-tempo passages the pyrotechnical phrases have a tendency to pour forth so freely the notes running together in an almost portamento fashion that the effect is that of an Art Tatum fill rather than a pungent musical anecdote of the sort a resourceful minimalist like Pee Wee Russell might tell. Quite possibly, Weiss who, in the liner notes characteristically pulls no punches while commenting on the state of the art and his own playing as well as naming other clarinet players for better or worse, would be all too ready to agree. Regardless, listeners familiar with his previous work are likely to be in complete agreement with his assessment of All Too Soon as his best work to date (six albums preceded it). Moreover, he singles out Jobim's "O Grand Amor" as his favorite track. Along with "Blue Monk," it would have to be this listener's choice as well. There's not a glib or "unearned" moment to be heard during the artist's deeply-felt reading. Rather than the usual pleasant bossa nova meditation on a past love, the performance is more threnody than reflection. Each note is distinct and distinctive, each telling a story  about winning and losing, laughing and loving, out-racing time and, after a mighty struggle, conceding it some ground. It would, for some artists, serve as a fitting valedictory. But from a fighter like Weiss, not one to go gentle or otherwise any time soon, it's perhaps best seen as a "soul station," a point of respite and rejuvenation in the life of a productive if late-blooming adventurer. ~ Samuel Chell https://www.allaboutjazz.com/mort-weiss-all-too-soon-a-jazz-duet-for-clarinet-and-seven-string-guitar-by-samuel-chell.php
 

Personnel: Personnel: Mort Weiss: clarinet; Ron Eschete: seven string guitar.

All Too Soon

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Mort Weiss - I'll Be Seeing You / A Giant Step Out And Back

Album: I'll Be Seeing You
Size: 158,7 MB
Time: 68:08
File: MP3 @ 320K/s
Released: 2012
Styles: Jazz: Straight-Ahead/Mainstream
Art: Front

01. Alone Together (4:10)
02. I'll Be Seeing You (6:08)
03. Our Delight (3:52)
04. Spring Is Here/A Time For Love (4:28)
05. When Your Lover's Gone (5:14)
06. Blues For Alice (4:10)
07. You Do Something To Me (6:59)
08. Gots The Horn In My Mouth Blues (5:00)
09. The Touch Of Your Lips (6:06)
10. Confirmation (2:14)
11. Here's That Rainy Day/My Funny Valentine (7:09)
12. Bernies Tune (3:20)
13. Azule Serape (5:11)
14. Pennies From Heaven (4:01)

Clarinetist Mort Weiss is a character. That much is readily evident by reading his All About Jazz column, The Mort Report. He is opinionated and passionate, both driving forces that easily season his playing in such a way that when Weiss plays, he's readily recognizable. Since returning to recording in 2001 after nearly 30 years away, Weiss has recorded a number of well-received CDs bringing him to what he considers his most fully realized release, I'll Be Seeing You.

Stylistically, Weiss is somewhat of a missing link within the post-swing jazz clarinetists. He lies somewhere between notable saxophonists who doubled on clarinet, like Lester Young and Art Pepper, and progressive (for the era) clarinetists like Buddy DeFranco and Tony Scott. Weiss' playing betrays his admiration for DeFranco in his fluid bop delivery and a certain risk-taking that made up Scott's oeuvre. Weiss is this side of Eddie Daniels and that side of John LaPorta. His previous recording, the solo clarinet outing Raising The Bar (SMS Jazz, 2010), demonstrated Weiss' continued growth, through his legendary practice and listening, into a brilliant second act to a first-rate life.

Weiss begins with a spare and laconic "Alone Together," dramatically displaying the clarinetist's intentions for the remainder of the disc. Weiss' approach on I'll Be Seeing You is the musical equivalent to what Salvadore Dali did with the visual arts. Weiss likes playing behind the beat and stretching his passages as far as the next measure. The elasticity Weiss uses in his phrasing adds just enough tension that, once resolved, creates a satisfaction akin to tasting an exceptional red wine...a real spark to the head. And sometimes that resolution is not what is expected, making the experience all the sweeter.

Weiss also allows this elasticity into his soloing, taking it to a slippery extreme. I'll Be Seeing You was transferred as first takes with no overdubs, giving the recording a bit of a high-wire feel. On Tadd Dameron's "Our Delight," Weiss expels flourishes throughout his solos that could go in any direction, but Weiss manages to remain close to the song's perimeter. On a hyper-fast "Confirmation," Weiss smooths out Anton Schwartz complexities before adding his own with his pliant, light-speed phrasing.

On the slower-tempo side of things, Weiss' pacing is measured and sure. "Spring is Here" and "My Funny Valentine" are taken largo, but never lose their pulse. This is hard to do in a trio setting sans a harmony continuo, but Weiss never bogs down or loses his place. He weaves his ideas together seamlessly and logically, always swinging; whether it is "Bernie's Tune" or "Pennies from Heaven," Weiss treats his subject with respect, but also a familiarity that allows him to take his chances—and, more often than not, improve the music. ~C. Michael Bailey

Personnel: Mort Weiss: clarinet; Roy McCurdy: drums; Chris Conner: bass; Ramon Banda; conga.

I'll Be Seeing You

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Album: A Giant Step Out And Back
Size: 103,9 MB
Time: 43:53
File: MP3 @ 320K/s
Released: 2013
Styles: Free Jazz
Art: Front

01. Trane Of Thought (2:37)
02. All The Thing You Are (1:51)
03. Allegory (3:26)
04. Dark Eyes (2:15)
05. Fair Weather (1:52)
06. Goodbye (2:37)
07. Invitation (2:55)
08. Jivin (2:00)
09. Soliloquy (3:20)
10. Straight No Chaser (1:15)
11. Summertime (4:53)
12. Talkin'about It (2:14)
13. Transfiguration (6:08)
14. Waltz For Deddie (2:02)
15. Warm Up (4:21)

The statement on the front CD cover announces what this music is about: “A Free Jazz Recording By The Undisputed Master Of The Jazz Clarinet.” Brash, yes, but as I’m reminded, it ain’t braggin’ if it’s true.

Mort Weiss, that undisputed clarinet master, is one of jazz’s remarkable stories of making up for lost time: zero albums under his name in the first sixty-six years of his life and now, eleven over the last twelve. Each with a different configuration, presenting his amazing facility on the blackwood in a different way. For the second time, Weiss is going it alone, with no one else accompanying him, and seeing how well that turned out the first time, there could be not harm in undertaking another solo clarinet album.

But there are some unique twists to A Giant Step Out And Back — as they are with every Weiss album — and to borrow from the title of that prior record, Weiss raises the bar once again. As you may have guessed already, this faithful adherent to the bop tradition is stretching out, and he walks the tight rope with no net: all first takes, no edits, no rehearsals, no even listening to music for six months prior to this five hour recording session; he walked in and cut these tracks cold, then flew back home.

For some of the tracks, like the first one “Trane Of Thought” (YouTube above), the song didn’t even exist until the tape rolled. At first blush, “Trane” appears to be a departure into whack jazz wilderness, but Weiss never compromised his basic principles. Listen close enough to it, and you’ll find the flow, the rhythm, and a harmonic shape. It’s the essence of Mort Weiss that always bleeds through, even when he’s stepping outside. The closing number “Warm Up” is similarly a series of somersaults that result in Weiss landing squarely on his feet each time.

For the sturdy standard “All The Things You Are,” Weiss introduces yet another new tact, dubbing over himself. Within a magical two minutes, Weiss is fluttering up and down scales hitting all the critical notes of the melody along the way so you can’t miss it, and then he does it again, as if a second take was playing alongside the first. Except, that both of these “takes” are in perfect congruence with each other.

“Allegory,” “Jivin’!” and “Soliloquy” are sort of combinations in approach of those first two songs: made up on the spot, but later dubbed over. For these cuts, Weiss was required to rely on his ear this time instead of memory to make the overdubs work on these pure improvisations.

Other standards such as “Fair Weather,” “Dark Eyes,” “Straight No Chaser” and “Summertime” are performed without the overdubs, but are played a little quicker and with a little more abstractness than the way he tackled the standards on Raising The Bar. Bill Evans’ gorgeous “Waltz For Debbie” is hastened and somewhat reharmonized, in what must be the most radical remake of that song, ever. However, Weiss never, ever loses sight of the underlying harmony.

Weiss’ most way out song of this collection ironically doesn’t even involve a clarinet: “Talkin’ About it” is vocal scat made up on the spot lacking a melody but still possesses rhythm and progression. One might call it a human beat box with swing.

As a whole, A Giant Step Out And Back can confidently be named Weiss’ most daring work. At a time in his life where his peers are slowing down, playing it safe and retreading the same ground, he’s still looking for ways to extend his art to the outer limits. Adventurous jazz isn’t necessarily a young man’s game, but it does belong to those young at heart. And that kid Mort Weiss made a record not for the faint of heart, but in many ways it’s very rewarding for those who are as open minded as he is. ~Review by S. Victor Aaron

A Giant Step Out And Back

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