Love, peace and jazz: Al Foster at work/Photo: Gerd Loser
As the Al Foster Quartet (Eli Degibri- saxophone, Doug Weiss- bass, Adam Birnbaum-piano) walked across the stage at the Rubin Museum Friday evening, the image of the Wheel of Life appeared on the wall behind them. No, it wasn’t a hallucination, but part of the Harlem in the Himalayas program. Artists are asked to choose a work of art from the Museum’s collection to be the inspiration for the evening’s performance (see the review, Harlem in the Himalayas: Anat Fort Trio). The Wheel of Life seemed so ideal and fitting for a musician as established as Foster.
There are times when it can be difficult to block out Miles Davis when revisiting Mr. Foster’s work. He is one of the best drummers jazz has even known. More than four decades of music have been stamped with his particular artistry; it was no hard task to hear other recordings, enjoy different band leaders, and appreciate the albums where he was sole leader (listen to Brandyn or Love, Peace and Jazz for further evidence). Yet, some of the Davis work holds a place of honor in one’s mental musical library. As happy ears were readied for the first touch of stick to skin Friday, looking forward to whatever the Quartet deemed appropriate to begin the set, “So What?” started the show with a burst of cool. Realizing that the blockage was all in vain, this writer stifled a personal and quiet chuckle.
High above the stage was the image of the Wheel of Life as it continued to beam. The set progressed as we listened to Foster deepen the twist to Degibri’s fiery saxophone, play tag with Birnbaum’s piano and melt with Weiss’ bass. The bright image became representative of the life in music. The image embodied the belief that every note is part of this rotation, delving into lower depths and reaching higher levels. Quite often this can happen all at once while we reside somewhere in between, having a glass of wine, patiently waiting to hear clues. There is a world, emotion, or memory for everyone. Nothing moves humans through the cycles of life quite like music.
As an audience, we were willing to be led wherever Foster and crew took us. There were moments of passion and anger in Degibri’s tone; focus and happiness in the bass and piano, revelation in a complex drum sound so subtle and deceptively unassuming it could be ascertained that if one truly listened and understood, perhaps enlightenment could be achieved. Mr. Foster, however, remained calm, almost Zen-like as sticks and brushes worked magic on the drums. Updated arrangements of “Fungii Mama” and set closer “Jean-Pierre” were given fresh interpretation, making it apparent that while there may be spirit in the music, no ghosts were lurking.
When the performance was complete- with a few members of the audience giving a standing ovation- individual band members sold their respective CD’s, including Foster’s. Yet as the audience milled out the door it was clear all were given the gift of what Foster seemed to embody- love, peace, and jazz.
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