Helen Sung performing with Elizabeth Suh Lane of Bach Aria Soloists (photo by Ruby Optics Photography)
Bach and Bud, Bop and Beauty Flow in a Jazz-Classical Show
The recent collaboration between the gifted pianist Helen Sung and Bach Aria Soloists, a super-group of Kansas City chamber players, was an inspired move. It also involved the co-sponsorship of the Folly Theater, which scheduled the concert as part of its Folly Jazz Series.
In more than half a century of jazz immersion, I’m fairly certain this was the first time I’d ever heard a harpsichord employed in a bop and post-bop setting. But there it was, bouncing along with the other players and adding to the magic of a surprising Saturday evening (April 5) on the Folly stage.
Kudos to Bach Aria’s founder and leader, the violinist Elizabeth Suh Lane, for inviting Sung to explore new territories for both of them. After hearing Sung’s piano work, she reached out and commissioned her to write a piece for Lane and her cohorts and also to join them in making music together. Their concert traveled a largely seamless border between classical and jazz.
Sung premiered her commissioned “Rubicon Suite” in the second half of the show. But the concert also showcased her classical roots, which she essentially departed from years ago, as well as her astounding talents as a jazz player. And she made a smart case for connecting Bach, in some ways the father of us all, with the likes of her formidable forbears, especially the Charlie Parker-era pianist Bud Powell.
The program’s scene-setter was a crossover movement from Claude Bolling’s Suite for Cello and Jazz Piano, pairing Sung with the effervescent Sascha Groschang. A Bach partita, his Prelude in C minor and the tangoist Astor Piazzolla’s “Oblivion” served as launching pads for improvisation and lively interplay with Lane, Groschang, the harpsichordist Elisa Williams Bickers, and even the soprano vocalist Sarah Tannehill Anderson. Despite her confessed lack of experience in scat singing, Anderson gave her syllabic vocalese a good go, and everyone seemed to be having a good time.
Sung’s Powell workout started with two contrasting pieces. First was the slow, romantic ballad “I’ll Keep on Loving You.” Next came the fiery, impossibly fast “Tempus Fugit,” which had Sung’s fingers flying, as it were, through the stratosphere. Then came her version of Powell’s tribute, “Bud on Bach.” She also featured the late Chick Corea’s lithe and sparkling “Armando’s Rumba.” Impressive.
After a few standards, with Anderson’s vocals and nods to Duke Ellington, Red Garland and others, Sung’s “Rubicon Suite” dominated the program after intermission.
The work, spanning upwards of 20 minutes, contains four seemingly disparate movements but its rolling dynamics, scenic moments, and even some passing playful nods to (I think) Gershwin and other show tunes proved to be compelling overall. Its sprawl and energy make sense when you hear Sung credit her inspiration to the bassist and under-appreciated composer Charles Mingus’s epic work, “Epitaph.” Sung is a veteran of the Mingus Big Band, so she knows his music well.
The first movement, “Circle Dance,” includes a lilting weave of vocalese, piano and harpsichord followed by plaintive lines from Sung’s piano, some plucked cello and a harpsichord solo.
The second movement, “The Place Where Heaven Fell,” is built around a poem by a North Carolina writer, R.S. Gwynn, sung by Anderson, and likely an extension of an earlier project, “Sung with Words,” which was a song-writing collaboration between the pianist and the poet Dana Gioia. Again, Sung took flight in an improvisational passage, before being joined by the cello, violin, and voice.
“Bach Beautiful,” the third section, harkened back to Bud Powell, though it mostly smoldered romantically in quiet passages and interplay before a surging crescendo.
Lane opened the last movement, “Look Here,” with a solo passage that rose to a frenzy. A bop ensemble ensued with dance-like rhythms, reminiscent of Chick Corea, and a round robin of lyrical tradeoffs and Sung’s slyly allusive solo.
In all, here was a case for keeping one’s ears open and reveling in the joys of making music together.
Steve Paul is KC Studio’s See Hear columnist, a longtime writer and onetime jazz DJ in Kansas City.
