John L Walters 

Wynton Marsalis

Ronnie Scott's London
  
  


There are times when Wynton Marsalis seems like the proverbial good deed in a bad world. When all is violent, dumbed-down and noisy, his cool, educated approach to life and art shows a better way. When he speaks between the opening numbers of his first Ronnie's set, the announcement mic doesn't work. We have to strain to hear, but it's similar to the smart teacher's trick of speaking quietly - the audience hush to catch his words. The songs are similarly measured: the crisply arranged Skipping; the gentle Sophie Rose-Rosalee; the medium bounce of You & Me.

Marsalis introduces Free to Be, explaining that it contains "major chords, minor chords, dominant sevenths, suspended fourths, triads ... that's the way you can make stuff complicated without getting a headache", adding the sly punchline: "But you could never write a term paper on it." His trumpet improvisations are like his speaking manner: Marsalis never shouts, even when he hits the high notes. There are also non-musical reasons for his reticence: he is recovering from surgery. Saxophonist Wes Anderson, similarly restrained, has also had recent health problems.

The soloist able to inject most energy into the proceedings is 24-year-old pianist Dan Nimmer, who sketches a different picture for each new frame that Marsalis supplies. Nimmer grabs each tune by the roots - finding a funkier subdivision of the beat in Skipping, or pushing Big Fat Hen, the closing number, into a samba-like coda.

This final tune, one of Marsalis's best, provides the trumpeter with a chance to play out: his unamplified tone, back on open horn after several pieces employing the Harmon mute, is superb. You can't fail to admire Marsalis's achievements as bandleader and musician, but the general restraint means that the band's impact remains muted.

 

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