Traditional Nouveau

In the vernacular of Western classical music, the word “Concerto” denotes “an orchestral composition for one or more solo instruments.” A similar yet more grandiose term, “Concerto Grosso” signifies “an orchestral composition performed by a small group of soloists.” Here in Austin, that same phrase finds its simplest definition yet: jazz. In this case – as in the classical context – the name Concerto Grosso refers to a group of soloists. The orchestra in this instance is not, however, other musicians, but rather the rest of the performance loop – the audience. Many bands talk about it, some actually attempt it, but few jazz endeavors successfully target (and hit) the emotions and demands of different audiences in different settings. For the locals in Concerto Grosso, the proof of their versatility lies in their circuit: The Mercury, where they serve up funkified fusion sets; Flipnotics, perfect for the band’s chamber jazz standards; Mozart’s, featuring an aquatic deck open to both breezes off the lake and the group’s originals; and Shucky’s in Killeen, where Concerto Grosso serves up all of the above.

While they might not have standard jazz pedigrees, Concerto Grosso was clearly weaned on some of the best in jazz. Bassist John Vogelsang, a former funkmeister in the Ging’breadmen, counts his main influences as Jaco Pastorius and Paul Chambers. Trumpeter Ephraim Owens, a former attendee of Dallas’ Arts Magnet school – the school that helped shape the talent of Texas trumpet sensation Roy Hargrove – cites horn luminaries Clifford Brown and Miles Davis as his cornerstones. Guitarist Henry Gutierrez, another Ging’breadmen veteran, looks to Kevin Eubanks, John McLaughlin, and Wes Montgomery for illumination. Rounding out the lineup is drummer Michael Langoria, an aficionado of Mint Condition and Steve Coleman and the Five Elements.

So, why did one-half of the band (the two string pluckers) make the move from funk to jazz?

“We were always interested in jazz,” says bassist Vogelsang, “because of the nature of improvisation and the openness of it.”

Strange thing, because improvisation – the very core of jazz – is currently experiencing an identity crisis. Should bands stay with standard renditions of jazz classics to get good-paying gigs, or should they incorporate iconoclastic improvisations in order to push the creative envelope and challenge the style? It’s often only the classic jazz bands who can fill clubs, but the one thing jazz doesn’t need is yet another mundane version of “Body and Soul” (sorry, not everyone can be as lyrical as Dexter Gordon).

Damned commercially if they try something new, and damned artistically if they recycle classics, what’s an up-and-coming jazz band like Concerto Grosso to do? One avenue is to inject new life into standards by giving them another twist, by approaching them from another angle; let’s face it, standards are standards not because they were penned by famous musicians, but because they’re elastic enough to shine even when manipulated and reinterpreted. Sure, to be a real player you have to know and understand the masters and standards of the genre, but that doesn’t mean you have to always play these tunes in a standard fashion.

Thankfully, Concert Grosso isn’t stuck in the neo-classical jazz delusion. Hearing the band perform the standard “Four on Six,” it’s clear that they know and respect the definitive version set forth by Wes Montgomery. Yet, listening to their dream-like rendition of “Naima” only reinforces the power and pulchritude of John Coltrane’s song. This band is flexible and tight.

What brings it all together? Concerto Grosso’s use of different rhythms and polyrhythms, set to different moods in order to chart a tune into new directions. Improvising over rhythm? Isn’t that a definition of jazz? Yep. And this small group of soloists (you pick the venue) jazz it up with the best of them. In that sense they are successfully both old and new – traditional nouveau.

This article appears in June 12 • 1998 and June 12 • 1998 (Cover).