“The art of conversation is surely dying,” claimed my colleague Phil Barnes in his recent review of Paragon’s fine new CD, Cerca. In jazz, at least, that is not the case, and as if to prove a point, that is the title of the new recording by Kenny Barron and Dave Holland. On the face of it, they make an unlikely couple. Barron, of course, is a grace and lyrical pianist, who has excelled both as a sideman and a leader in his own right. Over the years, Holland has chosen a more adventurous path; over the last decade he has worked regularly with a larger band, including his own big band, his octet and sextet. But they have more in common that you might imagine. They were born just three years apart, and their paths crossed regularly in the late 1960s and 1970s. They first recorded together on Kenny Barron’s 1985 LP, Scratch, and in 2012, embarked on a lengthy US and European tour as a duo.
During this tour, the two musicians found they had plenty to talk about. Kenny Barron stated that he loved playing duos with bass players, as it gives him the perfect foundation for his own style of playing. For his own part, Dave Holland loved the direct interaction. He also claimed it was a learning experience playing with Kenny. He is both “a tremendous listener as well as a tremendous player,” he said. “For me, it’s a harmony lesson every time I play with him.”
Unlike the recent duo recordings by Keith Jarrett and Charlie Haden, the album primarily features original compositions, rather than standards. It opens with Oracle, a Dave Holland tune built around a simple bass motif. It is immediately apparent how good it feels to hear that sumptuous tone in such a simple setting as this. The Only One was written by Kenny Barron, and serves as a reminder that he played with Sphere for several years in the 1980s, an ensemble which started life as a tribute to the great Thelonious Monk. Rain, another composition by the pianist, is one of the highlights, and features some sombre, reflective playing by Holland, in stark contrast to Barron’s lighter touch. Waltz For Wheeler, an elegant tribute to the late trumpet player, Kenny Wheeler, is also delightful.
There are three covers – a little-known Charlie Parker tune, Segment, Monk’s In Walked Bud, and Day Dream, a wonderful composition by Billy Strayhorn from 1941, which brings the album to a stately end. The album may be short on surprises, but the playing is concise, elegant and delicate; in short, a delightful conversation on which to eavesdrop.
