JOE GARRISON & NIGHT PEOPLE: The Broken Jar

The reclusive and creative magician/ composer Joe Garrison continues to toil away at his art, yet he has the distinctive advantage of bettering himself with every effort. Just when one thinks one has heard him at his best–well, along comes The Broken Jar, which to these ears comes awfully close to a masterpiece statement.

This is Garrison’s very latest iteration of his constantly evolving working ensemble, Night People, which sounds huge, despite having only six members. Soaring above it all is the flute/alto flute of Lori Bell, with bass trombonist Brian O’Donnell holding down the opposite end of the sonic spectrum. Constantly floating in and out of focus are the clarinet/bass clarinet contributions of Robert Zelickman and the glorious French horn of Jane Zwerneman. Holding everything together is the quite remarkable piano of Melonie Grinnell and the woody resonant bass of Mackenzie Leighton. Garrison conducts and yells when he’s particularly pleased.

Grinnell introduces “20th Century People,” with rich, crisp harmonies setting up a mélange of swirling textures from flute, bass clarinet, bass trombone, and French horn, all gliding from the support of Leighton. Special kudos go out to Bell for a gorgeous sound and daring improvisation. O’Donnell’s bass-trombone solo eases into some wicked low notes that plant in the listener’s brain.

Nervous moods strike from all angles on “Modern Art,” before settling into a rich bouillabaisse of perfectly matched flavors–blending dissonance and consonance together in addition to sonic extremes like bass trombone “versus” flute, for example.

Everything reaches its zenith on the title track, which opens innocently enough, with soft pastels, before lurching toward a total embrace of cacophony, which briefly explores a mayhem that evokes John Coltrane’s “Ascension” or Cecil Taylor’s “Conquistador,” before landing on a supremely executed climax that prompted Garrison to roar an appreciative “YES!” Bell continues with a zaftig flute exploration and then Leighton digs in for an a cappella bass solo that favorably recalls the mastery of the late Charlie Haden. More fine ensemble playing follows, making this one of the most enjoyable nine minutes of music I’ve heard in quite some time.
Garrison really knows how to write for these players, almost half of whom are classically trained, and the way he sets everything up makes for a seamless listening experience.

Each player gets a feature, often more than one, on the disc, and it was especially gratifying to hear Zelickman’s reeds and Zwerneman’s French horn on “Modern Music,” which also features outstanding moments from Bell and O’Donnell and an intensely melodically informed keyboard essay from Grinnell, whose quiet virtuosity unifies the entire session.

I’ll bet this sounds even better live and you can hear it live on September 29 at the Encinitas Library, 7pm.