Jane Bunnett, Dewey Redman, etc: Spirituals & Dedications

Jane Bunnett, Dewey Redman, Dean Bowman, Larry Cramer, Stanley Cowell, Kieran Overs, Mark McLean
Spirituals & Dedications

Justin Time

Spirituals & Dedications is a joyous and celebratory jazz album that connects directly with the listener from a deep place in the souls of its performers, which is exactly what jazz is supposed to do. Rather than contemplate stylistic differences or wonder how to make commercially viable jazz, this group of intensely individual performers has created an album that simply is what it is, and that’s something we can all be grateful for.

The idea of the album is pretty simple: some of the tracks are spirituals, and others are imbued with a spiritual quality that is quite palpable. Many of them are dedications, honoring the spirit or memory of a particularly cherished performer. And it is a collaborative session, organized by Jane Bunnett and her husband Larry Cramer, but not led by them, or anyone else. The idea was to get performers together who might not have played together, but who shared certain elements in their playing or personalities. Of course, Bunnett has worked with many of these artists before—Dewey Redman performed on her album In Dew Time, agent-turned-vocalist Dean Bowman used to book Bunnett’s group and appeared on the album Ritmo + Soul with Bunnett and Cramer. Bunnett performed recently with Stanley Cowell’s Piano Choir.

The group gels extremely well, sounding like they’ve been playing together for years, at least partly because of the strong concept binding the performances together. The opener, “Don’s Light”, for Don Pullen, makes wonderful use of the unique beauty of Dewey Redman’s warm tenor sound as well as the singing quality of Bunnett’s soprano work. Cowell offers admirable support to the soloists while drummer Mark McLean and bassist Kieran Overs provide space while working their own contributions into the mix that keep the piece moving forward in a quiet, meditative manner. When Bowman enters, the sense of spirituality set up by the instrumental passage is complete.

“A Laugh for Rory” opens with Bowman declaiming a typically hilarious and joyful Rahsaan Roland Kirk sermon before the group launches into the composition which was itself a dedication written for Kirk’s young son. Bunnett’s overblown flute pays tribute to Kirk while Cramer’s suitably low-key, muted trumpet solo brings a new dimension to this up-tempo blues number. One of the joys of this album is the opportunity to hear Dewey Redman, a woefully under appreciated tenor man, open up and blow in the company of like-minded compadres. His solo here is also great. “Gotta Tell God”, a duet between Cowell and Bowman, is an emotional performance that brings the spiritual aspect of this project to the fore. Cowell’s thirteen minute “Illusion Suite” is given a new angle with the addition of Bowman’s words and beautiful vocal. Redman offers up a spicy solo, tinged with some of the dissonance of his best avant-garde work, while Cowell really gets things rolling with his rolling chords and improvisational lines, creating a performance that is the emotional centerpiece of the album.

“Shadrack”, a biblical spiritual that was performed by Louis Armstrong, was one song that Dean Bowman really wanted to do, and he nails this performance beautifully, accompanied only by drummer McLean and Redman, who managed to recall the Coltrane/Elvin Jones duets. Clifford Jordan’s “Powerful Paul Robeson”, a tune that resonates deeply with Bunnett and Cramer, is given a respectful workout, with Bowman and Bunnett playing the melodic line together. “Nobody Knows”, a duet between Bowman and Redman, recalls Robeson’s powerful voice while at the same time avoiding any type of cliché, thanks in part to Redman’s individual take on the tune.

Tribute is offered to Charles Mingus with his “Ecclusiastics”, which features Bowman’s lyrics, a bluesy, funky, roadhouse feel, and Bunnett’s once again fabulously overblown flute work. The piece captures the gospel element in Mingus that is sometimes overlooked by interpreters of his work looking to emphasize the more “serious” compositional nature of this work. The album concludes with “Sometimes I Feel Like A Motherless Child”, another frequently recorded song with a strong spiritual element. Bunnett offers a Coltrane-ish soprano introduction before the group states the theme in a mournful, New Orleans-funeral fashion over a free rhythm section, eventually capped with Bowman’s expressive vocal interpretation.

Spirituals & Dedications virtually oozes joy out of its digital bits in a way that most recent jazz CDs can’t even imagine. It’s the joy of creation and of the beauty of the musical expression contained on it, even when what’s being expressed is melancholy or painful. It’s also the joy of a group of friends and musicians who have a wealth of mutual respect for each others’ work and for the work of the many who have come before them. Don’t miss this album, whatever you do.