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Keeping It New

Photo by Jopanne Dugan

Cerebral Sounds: Bass player Reggie Workman explores "Cerebral Caverns" on his new album.

Bassist Reggie Workman maintains

the spirit of avant-garde jazz

By Nicky Baxter

When the New Black Music, as avant-garde jazz was dubbed by poet/critic Amiri Baraka, hit in the early '60s, few knew what to make of it. Established concepts such as time, meter, rhythm, melody and harmony were reconstructed or obliterated altogether in order to fashion a music that was more emotionally cathartic and intellectually challenging.

But outside of a tiny circle of critics who viewed the revolutionary sounds as a respite from bebop's increasingly moribund precepts on the one hand and West Coast jazz's ambitions toward "art" on the other, the music was reviled as beatless black noise--hate music, even. These jazz pundits, the vast majority of whom were white, appeared to take personal offense at artists whose musical ideas were shaped in part by the same social forces that inspired the civil rights and Black Nationalist movements.

Due in large part to the conservative forces in the recording industry and radio, the New Thing, as the music was also called, was at best a peripheral phenomenon; the passage of time has done little to ameliorate matters. Incredibly, a good many players, now grand old men of the tradition, continue to produce music that is startlingly fresh and decidedly off the beaten track. Bassist Reggie Workman is a prime example. Cerebral Caverns, his current release (Postcards Records), is more evidence that the New Thing remains just that.

Workman surrounds himself with stellar talent. In addition to the nucleus of his group on 1994's Summit Conference (Postcards)--multi-instrumentalist Sam Rivers on tenor and soprano saxophones and flute, and Julian Priester on trombone--Workman brings aboard pianist Geri Allen and ex-Miles Davis drummer Al Foster, who appears on two tracks (Gerry Hemingway supplies the pulse on the remaining cuts).

As on Summit Conference, the spirit of community and mutual admiration is fully evident on Cerebral Caverns. Even more than the former, this session reveals the bassist's attraction to the new. The sonic terrain, along with the personnel, shifts from tune to tune. Elements of free improvisation, European classical and eastern music entwine to form a wholly individual sound.

This is an egalitarian undertaking with no one performer dominating the music's direction. On the pensive "Half of My Soul (Tristan's Love Theme)," for instance, Allen states the theme and engages in a dialogue with Rivers' flute, only to settle back into a progressively swinging mix of brass, strings and percussion. Elizabeth Panzer's harp shimmers delicately, as if her instrument were designed specifically for the occasion.

"Seasonal Elements (Spring-Summer-Fall-Winter)" is presented sans brass or percussion. The harp, piano and Workman's bowed bass conspire in the creation of an idiosyncratic tapestry of sound and silence, light and dark.

When, after introducing the theme, Workman leaves aside his bow to pluck out a buoyant bass pattern, Panzer's harp weighs in with biting, guitarlike interjections. Allen, meanwhile, introduces herself by stroking the innards of her piano, producing an eerie, brittle sound.

The title track finds Garrison and company exploring similar terrain, only this time, the feeling is darkly atmospheric, almost claustrophobic. Again, flute and harp engage in sporadic hide-and-seek interplay, but the mood is more agitated.

Perhaps it is a good thing that "Cerebral Caverns," the most difficult track, kicks things off; if you can get into it, the rest of the session is a breeze. "What's in Your Hand" and "Fast Forward" are far more accessible. "What's in Your Hand" is a sunny, upbeat number featuring Workman, Allen and Hemingway. Though intensely exploratory, the three musicians invest it with enough vigor that it's easy to forget that the tune was improvised on the spot.

Allen's playing is particularly intriguing, alternating clumps of dissonant chords with furious, bumblebee-like single notes. Hemingway addresses his kit like a painter, adding as much tonal color to the proceedings as rhythmic thrust. His drumming draws on the legacy of Rashid Ali, Sunny Murray and other New Thing proponents; like those past masters, Hemingway listens.

Throughout, it is Workman's bass that sets the pace, sketching out the compositions' frameworks and then allowing his partners to fill in the blanks. He is not a busy musician; he plays only what is required. More than once, he disappears altogether, resurfacing at pivotal junctures. You don't have to hear him to feel his presence--a quality that is the mark of a genuine artist. And Cerebral Caverns is genuine and, yes, intelligent music.

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