Though recorded in 2004, the release of
Garden of Eden marks the year in which drummer, composer, and bandleader
Paul Motian turned 75. The
Paul Motian Band is structured after his
Electric Bebop Band from the 1990s. The group's unique approach to
bebop is here -- particularly in the bookends of the set with
Charles Mingus'
"Pithecanthropus Erectus," and
"Goodbye Pork Pie Hat," at the beginning, and
Thelonious Monk's
"Evidence" and
Charlie Parker's
"Cheryl," at its end -- the aesthetic focus has changed considerably to reflect
Motian's own compositions. This band contains three guitarists --
Steve Cardenas,
Ben Monder, and
Jakob Bro -- and a pair of saxophonists --
Chris Cheek and
Tony Malaby -- with bassist
Jerome Harris accompanying
Motian. Through the continuing wonder of stereo reproduction,
Motian guides us to the place where we know who's playing what in which channel, left, right, and center. And the magic begins. With the exception of the opening cut, everything here is short -- between two and five minutes. Though the music comes off as relaxed, somewhat gauzy and breezy; it nevertheless carries the pressure to deliver its various secrets in brief moments rather than long, drawn-out solos and engagements between players. The readings of the
Mingus tunes carry all the knottiness of the originals, albeit with relaxed and breezy tempos.
"Goodbye Pork Pie Hat" is utterly moving as the three guitars all weave themselves around the saxophones and
Motian and
Harris keep steady, gently swinging time. On the leader's
"Mesmer," the kaleidoscopic colors and tones that are possible with this kind of band are made self-evident. The simple
nursery rhyme melody line -- like a less-urgent
Ornette Coleman line -- asserts itself via a lone saxophonist,
Motian, and
Harris. The other horn enters, and they begin to engage and complement one another as the guitars enter the theme one at a time and wind, shimmer, and blur around the horns, ever-nuanced and elegant.
Motian's drumming becomes more urgent and skittering, as does
Harris' bass line, propelling movement against the repetition. In four-and-half minutes, the listener has been transported to another time and place. Other tracks here, like
Jerome Kern's
"Bill," written for the 1927
musical,
Showboat, is made utterly pretty and wistful by the interplay between the saxophonists, who stagger each other in the lyric and chorus as guitars shadow them in various guises. The title track is the most speculative here, hinting at
free improvisation as a skeletal melody asserts itself slowly and tersely. The tension created by
Motian's around-the-beat drumming as the horns whisper their way through is quietly intense. Guitars nervously enter and fall away, adding minor-key shape and dimension to the proceedings. And though it threatens to explode at any moment, it merely swells and breathes cautiously yet purposely. The spirited yet laid-back swinging that takes place on
"Cheryl," clocking in at just two minutes, brings the entire band full circle. It's irreverent yet accurate, it points to future looking, with empathic texture and dimension applied, to reading the music of
jazz's past as a living composition as opposed to a staid, arid, reverence for history.
Garden of Eden is more evidence -- like 2005's
I Have the Room Above Her -- that
Motian has been on a creative and compositional tear, and has been since the mid-'80s. This set is ambitious, full of humor, charm, warmth, and grace; it sings, whispers, talks, and at times it shouts; ultimately it offers listeners an intimate look at the complexity and beauty in the continually evolving soundworld of an artist who is a true musical giant. ~ Thom Jurek
