Wednesday, February 28, 2018

Noah Preminger: Genuinity via CRISS CROSS RECORDS


Genuinity

Thirty-one-year-old tenor saxophonist Noah Preminger's Criss Cross debut is his tenth leader CD, and fifth in the pianoless quartet context with trumpeter Jason Palmer and bassist Kim Cass, joined for the first time on this ocassion by the brilliant drummer Dan Weiss. Unlike Preminger's four previous no-chordal-instrument dates, the hour-long program consists entirely of the leader's original pieces. Each evokes a different mood and tonal ambiance with strong melodies underpinby percolating grooves that provoke unfailingly cohesive, thematic improvisations by the horns.

In preparing his nine songs, Preminger hewed to his recent m.o. of "sitting down with my saxophone every day, recording what I do, and listeling back-a stream of consciousness. "He contrasted this process with writing on the piano, as he did on his first-ever date, the eclectic 2007 album Dry Bridge Road, Kimbrough, guitarist Ben Morder, trumpeter Russ Johnson, bassist John Hébert and drummer Ted Poor.

"I was writing at the piano a lot then, so I was writing with the piano in mind," he says. "Then the record label I'd signed with had a certain vision for me as an artist, and I was pushed in directions I might not have gone in if I hadn't been guided that way. On this record, the basslines, the harmonies everything came from my horn. I feel taht's a more genuine way to express who I am as an artist than coming up with a form and then writing a melody over it. I play piano just fine, and I still write on piano as well as guitar. But the saxophone is literally my voice."

It's fun to play the name-that-influence game with Preminger, whose vocalized, caress-all-the-notes, reflective-yet-vigorous tonal personality coalesces and refracts a broad swath of tenor saxophone language. "I've dipped my feet in he attended Dave Liebman's Pennsylvania jazz camp. sparking an enduring, fruitful relationship with the elder master, who he calls "my first main guru." He credits Liebman and saxophone sages George Garzone and Jerry Bergonzi (mentors when Preminger attended New England Conservatory between 2003 and 2007) for nurturing his loose, relaxed approach.

"These guys have deep history in their playing," Preminger says. "They understand what has come before them, and each established an individual voice. Each one has a sort of free quality to their improvisation. They're not so confined by changes on a form. I really relate to that. I don't feel necessarily tied to 4/4. or tied to a pulse. That's fun. I don't feel like I'm stuck. It makes me enjoy what I do more."

After graduating NEC, Preminger moved to New York, finding work with elders like Cecil McBee, who employed him, and Billy Hart, whose skills he retained on several occasions. Thrust into the fray, Preminger -who cites a chronological influence tree that moves roughly fron Joshua Redman to Joe Lovano to Ornette Coleman to John Coltrane- grew into the realization that "I want to play every time like it¡s my last day on earth, which is what separates the masters from your Grade-B cat. "As his career evolved, Preminger -who returned to Boston in 2015 to get a Masters degree, and still lives there- has made in his business "to surround myself with cats who understand that."

Each of Preminger's partners herein qualifies for that encomium. You couls describe Palmer, 38, himself the leader of six small ensemble dates, as Preminger's aesthetic doppelganger for his gorgeus tone, broad knowledge of just back in Boston, beelined to Wally's Jazz Café, where Palmer has led the house band most weekends since 2004.


"He's like Don Cherry with chops, " Preminger jokes. "He knows every song ever written in the history of the American book, but he's a true improviser, a real artist, which you don't offen find. We have a special connection on the bandstand."

The Preminger-Kim Cass connection dates to their shared undergraduate experience at NEC. "Kim is a one of a kind player who does things other people can't do, with a unique harmonic and rhythmic approach, " Preminger says. Throughout the proccedings, the Maine-born bassists's catlike reflexes, impeccable time feel, and centered tone stamp him as an occupant of the upper branches of his instrumental tree circa 2017.

Preminger observes that his recent compositions suited the mammoth skill sets of drummer Dan Weiss, familiar to assidous Criss Cross listeners -and an internationel cohort of fans and connoisseurs- for his contributions to six albums by David Binney, and as well as his own sui generis leader albums and sideman work with such upper echelon improvisers as Rudresh Mahanthappa, Rez Abassi, Miles Okazaki, Amir El-Saffar, Jen Shyu, Matt Mitchell and Joel Harrison.

"Dan has incredible energy," Preminger states. "He lets things feel open rhythmically, and whether you're in 4 or 13, it will never fall apart. It will always be tippin', it will always have energy, and he'll be right next to me the whole time. He understands arc, he understands form, and he understands phrasing, which a lot of people don't."

Weiss's prowess in the arts of rhythmic design and thematic development immediately come to the fore on the opening track, Halfway To Hartford, a kinetic opening salvo that evokes and Old and New Dreams ambiance. After Preminger's gnarly, 38-second intro, and then a bravura 50-second-long Premimger-Palmer unison on the melody, each soloist engages Weiss in extended conversation.

Preminger and Palmer exchange ideas and play overlapping lines over Weiss' "stinky funk groove" on Mad Town, Preminger's slightly melancholic depiction of a frigid, snowy winter weekend in Madison, Wisconsin, home of the University of Wisconsin, where the saxophonist was "for a moment contemplating doing a Ph.D."

At Preminger's request, Weiss puts a Clyde Stubblefield 6/4 groove on T.S., a gentle refrain named for the initials of a special friend with whom Preminger has "listened to a lot of music and gone dancing, and who's into what she calls the smile-and-sway. "Preminger's neologism aptly describes the quality of his interplay with Palmer during the tune's first section, after which Cass unleashes his chops onmultiple choruses of dialog with the leader. "Let's say you've had a few drinks, and you're listening to something that really grooves," Preminger continues. "You kind of just smile and sway. I wrote it for her and the arc of her life."


A drum fanfare introduces A.H., for guitar hero Allan Holdsworth, who passed away in 2017. "As I was writing this melody on my horn, and the counter-line below it with the bass, I imagined it as something Holdsworth migth have come up with," says Preminger, whose creative solo, spurred by Cass' and Weiss' instanneous, interlocking responses, includes a quote from Sonny Rollins' Paul's Pal. Palmer assumes the baton, bulids the momentum further, then guides the flow into a closing unison.

Preminger describes the elegiac, medim-slow, not quite rubato My Blues for you as "a gospelly blues that I wrote in freshman year of college." After his achingly soulful melody statement, first Palmer and then the leader testify with a primal-yet-restrained quality on the elemental raw materials, evoking the ambiance of such recent collaborations as the albums Dark Was The Night, Cold Was The Ground and Meditations on Freedom.

Weiss' pointillistic beats are a portal into Nashua, named for the New Hampshire city where Preminger, soon after returning to Boston, took a teaching job that "lasted about two weeks". The querulous tme hints at New England Rust Belt dystopia-Cass, Palmer and Preminger remain true to the melody in their solos.

Preminger wrote the Ornette Coleman-esque Walking On Eggshells after listening to an interview on National Public Radio "with somone who wrote an article how it's difficult to be a white person who's concerned about racial injustice, which he said is like walking on eggshells." He continues; "I started playing this, and then wrote an entire melody like it-the feeling was like skipping along, like walking on eggshells."

The date closes with Acknowledgment, no relation to the opening movement of John Coltrane's A Love Supreme, but nonetheless vibrationally akin to the man Preminger calls "the very top as an improviser." "If you¡ve got 100 levels, Trane is on 100 and everybody else starts at level 60," Preminger says. "To me, Coltrane had the most incredible balance of technique and emotional artistry." After Preminger's bluesy rubato introduction, Cass begins a dialogue, Preminger recapitulates the simple melody, Weiss offers Rashied Ali-like ametric beats before morphing to 4/4 freebop at 3:30, leading to another elegant, forceful Palmer statement, and a closing Preminger solo, patient and intense.

"I don't know why I came up with the title," Preminger says. "Maybe it's acknowledging what's going on in my life-where I am, what my beliefs are, receiving acknowledgment. My style of playing is maybe an acquired taste, but I have a very honest way of performing, and a lot of energy. It's not commercial whatsoever. It's weird-I'm not out here touring that much, but I'm leaving a trail of work. Sure. I'd like to be appreciated for what I do. But I love making albums, and I love laying down my personal statement. I like the procces. I'm happy. That's most important."

Ted Panken