John Coltrane's Ascension Reborn at Jazz Standard

John Coltrane's Ascension Reborn

Reviewed by Chris McHale

There’s only one way to listen to the original release from 1966 of John Coltrane’s soul scorching recording, Ascension, with pure, utter abandonment. You have to let go and sink into the intense wash of colors and riffs. It is crazy music. It demands an emotional response. In a single word, it’s extraordinary. Coltrane called it big band music, but this was unlike any other big band that ever blew a bent note of soli perfection. This was an intergalactic big band on wild juice heading full tilt into an out of control star gone nova. It was the first intensely personal expression of abstract free jazz ever committed to vinyl, which brings us to the central question of last Wednesday downstairs at the Jazz Standard in New York City.

Is a Jackson Pollack a Jackson Pollack without Jackson Pollack? Can a conception and execution, a gigantic improvisation of vibe and soul, sounding to us from 45 years ago, still play, move and create emotion in a meaningful way in 2011? And without the archetypal titans of jazz as anchors in a harmonic universe set free from ancient bounds of expectation, is this music going to work?

Producer Milan Simich decided to give it a try. Bringing together an all-star ensemble of power and grace, the idea was to recreate, to an extent, Coltrane’s iconic release, Ascension. The music on that original disc blows your head right through the back wall. It’s that good. How can you compete with the original congress of jazz gods?

With some doubts, I descend the stairs into the legendary club, to bear witness to this singular Coltrane homage. How long does it take me to surrender to this performance? Five seconds.

The audience at the Jazz Standard is eager, the buzzy club ready for greatness. It’s packed. As soon as you enter the room, the atmosphere, the appetite is palpable. The set is billed by Simich as Take 1.

It begins with a riff, strong melodic threads connected in part to Coltrane’s beautiful ‘Love Supreme.’ This opening statement is played delicately by Joe Lovano on tenor saxophone. The full ensemble joins in, expanding the theme. It’s an instant celebration of a jazzy right to free speech. Every musician creates their own space, defined only by a neighborly ear and a respect for a long gone master’s hand. How can it be that John Coltrane, with meager strokes and indications on a page ( the existence of a score even at the original session is in debate) create a durable composition that lives and breathes 50 years after his passing? I don’t know, but I witnessed it, so I know it’s real.

The band commits now, weaves a whole cloth from the late autumn night in NYC. The music evolves, a powerful jazz soup emerging from chaos. Trumpeter Jeremy Pelt takes a mid-tempo pace, tone piercing, short bursts of notes followed by a sustained sweep, a statement, a brassy riff over a steady pulse. The original Coltrane piece called for two drums, two bass, pushing the boundaries. Tonight we have one bass, the extraordinary Ben Allison, but he proves up to the task ahead.

After each solo the bands returns, a bendy wash of perfect horn against a counterpoint of piano, wide voicing, shifting modal chords skillfully interjected by James Weidman, blocks of colors, a powerful occupation of the entire keyboard.

Each musician takes a spin through Coltrane’s creation. Sabir Matin on alto saxophone arrives in thin, atmospheric high-note splendor. Josh Roseman punches though an incredible trombone statement over a shifting metric landscape mapped out by Matt Wilson’s snare and a flurry of tom accents from Billy Drummond. Donny McCaslin and Vincent Herring each step into the Ascension circle and create a deep sonic poetry.

The soloing now moves into the rhythm section. Octave quotes framed by Wiedman’s light touch lead to rising arpeggios, descending again into an almost Porteresque pass of melodic hints across the full range of the keyboard. The climax of the work is an astounding one bass between two drums conversation, a riveting dynamic and pulse, in the middle of which Ben Alison takes out his i-hone and takes a snapshot! Ascension might have originally been created in the key of 1966, but it is every bit as relevant today as that high-tech smart phone.