Also Playing

Keith Jarrett Trio

 ((Wiltern Theater; 2,326 seats; $ 35 top))

By PHIL GALLO

Presented by Stephen Cloud. Band: Jarrett, Gary Peacock, Jack DeJohnette. Reviewed Oct. 15, 1995. By bookending his trio's first hourlong set with Bill Evans' "Spring Is Here" and Thelonious Monk's "Straight, No Chaser," Keith Jarrett made a risky yet rightful move that demonstrated how he has not only mastered the vocabulary of his predecessors but created his own unique punctuation. Jarrett has long been an effective communicator, and with this trio of drummer Jack DeJohnette and bassist Gary Peacock he raises the stakes for just about any other act attempting to master the game. Jarrett is one of a handful of pure jazz artists able to perform at the concert hall level rather than in clubs. His staying away from Los Angeles for a decade certainly boosted the must-see nature of Sunday's concert, and fortunately the band delivered two distinct takes on why this trio's recordings have been the basis for Jarrett's welcome return to the jazz mainstream over the last 10 years.
 

For the first hour, Jarrett took the introduction of each piece and radically altered the harmonization and voicings of the chords before settling in, stating the theme and improvising. DeJohnette's drumming was consistently brash, at times even sounding like he was on a different page from the other musicians, but it invariably worked -- a clear indication that this trio knows its whole can be greater than its parts.

Nowhere was it more evident than on "Someday My Prince Will Come." Jarrett started the piece with grand chordal statements, making his points with brash confidence before moving into a more melancholic mood and exiting in nearly dirgelike fashion. Rather than approach the tune as a wistful teenager dreaming one night, he extended the vision to a lifetime -- one with regret and a ray of hope that dimmed over time.

His "Straight, No Chaser" was fueled with pure funk -- DeJohnette used mallets for a war-drum effect throughout -- and succeeded in the unenviable, and rarely achieved, task of grafting a separate identity onto a Monk piece.

Second set started with a busy "All the Things You Are" before scurrying through three other standards and Evans' "Hullo Bolinas." Jarrett played it straight, opting for a romantic tone on each song that focused on smooth, often exhilarating solo lines with his right hand. Peacock came alive in this setting; his yeoman work of the first half gave way to harmonically challenging solos that at times added the texture of a horn and brought a new hue to the trio's spectrum.

The group played in near darkness because a light was bothering Peacock, and other than Jarrett's humming and movements, there were no distractions from the music. None of the musicians so much as introduced a tune.

Never short on ideas -- a concert of solo improvisations 18 years ago at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion made that clear -- Jarrett has mastered the two most difficult tasks facing any jazz pianist: the middle range and mid-tempos. He used the former to give the latter shape and character with fervor and grace, a rare combination.