The Tristano-Ornette Web, Part 1

Lennie Tristano and Ornette Coleman

If there's anything I've learned, it's that jazz is simply one giant rabbit hole of connections and influences that is expanding even as we speak. Even this lengthy chain (probably closer to a web), drawing together multiple generations and schools of thought, is only a fraction of improvisational/creative music's national, even global presence.

I've been listening to a lot of great music lately, and more than ever I'm realizing just how interconnected all the players and ideas are. There were some people in this post I was listening to and when comparing them, they all had different takes on the same school and aesthetic, and they both knew a lot of the same people. Hence, this could be categorized a smaller web in the vast expanse of this music. First, the source of all modern music:

Charlie Parker

Naturally, this chain would not exist without the massive influence of the titan Charlie Parker. When Bird and bebop entered the scene, it was a musical phenomenon that had never been seen and likely never will be again. That being said, Bird's sound was a logical result of having heard many previous geniuses of the saxophone, primarily Lester Young. However, it has been said that Bird was the equivalent of a Lester Young record sped up; his sheer virtuosity, especially at fast tempos, is still unmatched. Bird and bebop emphasized virtuosity, long, fast musical lines, and advanced harmonic thinking. Despite its outward trappings, though, Charlie Parker's genius came from an emphasis on improvisation: spontaneity and melody, and just making the horn sing. 

It would be an understatement to say that all of music would never be the same again after Charlie Parker. Part of Bird's legacy was his individuality; while he most certainly had influences, he was not an imitator in the slightest. This was helped by his voracious musical appetite, ranging broadly from Stravinsky to country music to everything in between. He also embraced the spontaneity of all the best jazz; this important quality came out of Louis Armstrong, but had diminished towards the end of the Swing Era, when commercial swing bands were the face of the music. Luckily, albeit in a very different way, this spontaneity would be embraced by, among others, a small group of students and their esoteric teacher.

Lennie Tristano

Of the many musicians who played with (and were influenced by) Charlie Parker, one notable example is the idiosyncratic pianist/teacher Lennie Tristano. Before he played with Bird, Tristano had already garnered a reputation as a player and teacher, having acquired among others the young Lee Konitz as a pupil. In this chain, Tristano represents the first major strand that many other musicians follow, that being the emphasis on long, unbroken, Bird-influenced lines that frequently used rhythmic mutations and extended harmonies. However, unlike bebop, Tristano favored a more even, straight-ahead sound and believed in the integrity of the lines themselves, not the emotion they were coated in. (There's also an obvious racial aspect here that cannot be denied, but that's another sermon for another time.)

While Tristano could accurately be viewed as a cult figure, his influence extends far beyond the musical school of thought he promoted. For instance, he often experimented with recording technology, engaging in projects involving overdubbing and manipulating tape speed. He also created the first sessions of free jazz, in which himself, Konitz, and Warne Marsh played without any boundaries of key, tempo, melody, or rhythm; this was released as "Intuition". Not to mention, his mellowed-out approach to lines was a key influence on cool jazz, a genre in which Konitz and Marsh would become leading names in. Perhaps more notably in this regard, Tristano's influence extended over to baritone saxophonist Gerry Mulligan, whose influential quartet with Chet Baker left out chordal instruments altogether to favor laid-back, bop-influenced lines.

Outside of his teachings on improvisation and the indirect influence of his students Konitz and Marsh, not much is discussed about Tristano's influence on other pianists. Perhaps the most well-known example was Bill Evans, whose linear playing was indebted to Tristano, despite a sound that was far more expressive and further indebted to classical composers like Debussy. Not to mention, Evans was one of the first to break open the roles of the traditional rhythm section, allowing more freedom for the bassist and drummer to bounce off each other and himself. In any given recording by Tristano or his students, the bass and drums sound completely stifled.

Even more so than Evans, there would soon be another rising star who was more than ready to drop the commonplace notions of jazz, instead embracing pure melody and group interplay.

Ornette Coleman

There have been few figures in the music as controversial as Ornette Coleman. His 1959 record The Shape of Jazz to Come ushered in a new kind of music, bringing back an emphasis on melodies and group playing. In doing this, Coleman further revolutionized the music by leading a band in abandoning set chord structures completely. Coleman's quartet, in its classic iterations, is one of the most unique groups in all of music. While it was like Gerry Mulligan's quartet in that it contained no chordal instrument, its aim and aesthetics were different altogether. 

Coleman and his front-line partner, trumpeter Don Cherry, boasted sounds that were stark, spontaneous, melodic, and deeply indebted to the blues. Bassist Charlie Haden, while similarly rooted in hillbilly music, was also influenced by Bach and was able to provide ample counterpoint to Coleman and Cherry, creating chord changes in real time. Drummer Billy Higgins and his teacher Ed Blackwell would both play in the band, and their propulsive senses of time and rhythm pushed each player and completed the band's sound. While both drummers are sensational, Blackwell's bouncy New Orleans-influenced drumming is especially satisfying as part of the group. (Coleman's faster pieces also featured Blackwell's penchant for fast tempos.)

from left to right: Don Cherry, Charlie Haden, Ornette Coleman, and Ed Blackwell.

As for Coleman's playing itself, it sounds like if Charlie Parker's horn tried to learn to talk. There's not really a way to accurately describe it in words, other than it takes the music's omnipresent blues element to an entire new level. He mines every single aspect of melody possible, from beautiful soaring phrases to bellowing squawks. He never adhered to chord changes, mostly because he was too concerned with bringing melody into the forefront, a priority of his compositions. It wasn't until he started playing with Don Cherry and Charlie Haden (and in 1967, newcomer Dewey Redman on tenor) that he was finally able to find musicians who would follow what he did, rather than sticking to a strict structural map.

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Between Lennie Tristano and Ornette Coleman, there is absolutely no mistaking one for the other. Tristano's icy, rhythmically steady piano lines and Coleman's blues-rooted melodic explorations say all that need to be said. However, their approaches are not strictly unrelated; they are merely two different strands of spontaneity broken off of the influence of Charlie Parker and the beboppers. Tristano reveled in the spontaneity of the pure, unbroken line, and Coleman advanced the freedom of melody, blues, and collective improvisation. Both men, deeply influenced by Bird, were seekers of the truly spontaneous, which brings their otherwise disparate sounds together.

Perhaps the key difference between the two, despite their similar contributions to improvisation, is how they value communication and interplay between the other musicians. As mentioned above, many recordings of the Tristano school in the 1950's involve very little say from the bass and drums. Tristano's improvisation "Line Up", while an experiment in manipulating tape speed, still has that element of playing to a track, which was often the case when he played live with other people. On the other hand, Ornette's music would not be remotely the same without his associates: especially his ideal melodic foil Don Cherry and the man who practically opened up the music, Charlie Haden. In the liner notes to This Is Our Music, Ornette describes what his group does, collective improvisation, as something that had been happening since early jazz.

Paul Bley

On Ornette's first record, Something Else!!!!, he had to deal with a pianist (Walter Norris) who was too used to following changes to truly think about what the rest of the group was doing. However, Paul Bley was one of the few pianists who was able to accurately adapt Coleman's concept to the instrument, especially when Coleman was starting to make a name for himself. In the chain at hand, Bley sits intertwined between Tristano and Coleman. While he was a disciple of Coleman and was able to play with his otherwise-chordless group, his linear playing to me sounds like a freer Tristano. His lines come off as aggressive not necessarily due to touch, but often to the jarring nature of his harmonic choices and chromaticism. Especially notable for its Tristano influence is his harmonically groundbreaking solo on "All the Things You Are" on Sonny Meets Hawk!, with Sonny Rollins and Coleman Hawkins. (Incidentally, like Tristano, I also find Bley's sound to be very cold, especially in his earlier work.)

Paul Bley, left, with Gary Peacock and Pete LaRoca.

Next to Tristano's influence, the Ornette influence is evident as well in Paul Bley with Gary Peacock, a trio outing from 1963 completed by drummer Paul Motian. Bley's aggressively harmonic lines are backed up by the stellar bass & drum duo of Peacock and Motian. Often, Bley acts like a horn player; he often relegates himself to single lines and sits out whenever Peacock solos. Also more indebted to Coleman than Tristano is Bley's willingness to let the musicians play off each other, seeing as he hired two of the most aggressive musicians possible for this date: Peacock played with Albert Ayler and Motian was becoming angsty after playing with Bill Evans for so long.

Perhaps the defining document of Bley's career is the 1963 album Footloose! with Steve Swallow and Pete LaRoca. Aside from Ornette's "When Will the Blues Leave?", all tracks are Bley originals (written either by him or his then-wife, the great Carla Bley). Bley's structural concepts while improvising come from Ornette, carving out space for himself instead of playing changes, but his hard edge and chromatic turns are unmistakably Tristano; the latter qualities could be seen as a means of exaggerating Ornette's approach to the fullest, most dissonant extremes. It definitely worked, for an aspiring young pianist would soon seek to follow this approach...

Keith Jarrett

Keith Jarrett's music would not exist without Ornette Coleman. His piano playing would not exist without Lennie Tristano or Bill Evans. Furthermore, he likely would not have started out how he did were it not for Paul Bley and Footloose!; reportedly, Jarrett's first choice for a bass player was Steve Swallow, but Ornette sideman Charlie Haden would become one of his closest collaborators.

His debut, Life Between the Exit Signs, while not perfect, is an ideal combination of Ornette and Evans, along with a heavy Paul Bley influence, and of course his own ideas and idiosyncrasies. It showcases not only his tendency to abandon changes altogether, but also just how warm and inviting his playing is compared to Bley; on top of everything else, the freshness of Jarrett's approach was enhanced by a tinge of gospel. Much of his early work straddles this entire continuum (the Ornette side was especially showcased when Dewey Redman joined the band), but what surprised me was how it remained so obviously in his abundant later work.

The Jarrett recording that inspired this article was At the Deer Head Inn, recorded in 1992 with Gary Peacock and Paul Motian (the same rhythm section as Paul Bley with Gary Peacock from above). I had been listening to the Paul Bley recording, and I noticed a similarity in Jarrett's playing on this particular recording. While the Tristano/Bley influence is omnipresent in Jarrett's twisting, chromatic/almost-tonal single lines, it's infused with an Ornette-like sense of joy and discovery, accentuated by his notorious vocalizations. This is a perfect document of mature Jarrett, especially evident on his versions of "Solar", "You Don't Know What Love Is", and "Bye Bye Blackbird".

At the Deer Head Inn was also notable for the first and last time Jarrett would play with Motian since his American quartet disbanded in 1976; from 1984 onwards, Jarrett would play jazz exclusively with his Standards Trio featuring Peacock and Jack DeJohnette. Perhaps that makes this recording an anomaly, sparked by the reunion of an old friend, who himself had played everywhere and everything imaginable.

Paul Motian

In 1959, notable altoist Jackie McLean (who had once played with and in place of Charlie Parker) released an album entitled New Soil; it is notable for Pete LaRoca performing the first recorded free-tempo drum solo. Tempo was freed even further by free jazz drummer extraordinaire Sunny Murray, who played with such figures as Cecil Taylor and Albert Ayler. Even Ornette Coleman, who had up to a certain point relied on strict tempos, brought his 10-year-old son Denardo into his band to free up the drums. As less strict rhythms became a gradual trend, who else but someone known for playing with the great Bill Evans was ready to drop steady time at an instant?

Paul Motian is one of the greatest drummers of all time. He was a walking paradox; steeped in tradition while simultaneously breaking open his instrument. Despite having never recorded with Coleman or Tristano, he appears all over this web, having played with Thelonious Monk, Konitz and Marsh, Bill Evans, Paul Bley, and Keith Jarrett; he also notably collaborated with multiple associates of Ornette, especially Charlie Haden. He once subbed for Ed Blackwell in the Ornette troupe's band Old and New Dreams, and he also recorded with them on occasion as the American Jazz Quartet.

Perhaps most significant in this context are his collaborations with Bley and Jarrett, two musicians who had absorbed both Tristano and Coleman and who had their own perspectives on them. While both pianists displayed elements of Tristano to some degree, they were more notably in Ornette's lineage (Jarrett's band had Charlie Haden and later Dewey Redman, and Bley was an Ornette alum himself). Despite playing with Tristano and Evans in the 1950's, it was with Bley and Jarrett that he truly found room to shine. Bley's more aggressive, interactive nature gave Motian an ideal sparring partner coming out of the quieter Evans trio. Perhaps more notably, the folk elements of Ornette that Keith had absorbed allowed Motian not only to finally let loose on the drums, but also to tune his drums as they would be in his native Armenia.

Pat Metheny

One last link in this particular chain is a character unlikely to have been as deep in this lineage as he was. That being said, Ornette Coleman was Pat Metheny's hero. When he and Floridian bassist Jaco Pastorius made their first recording, it was with Paul Bley and it prominently featured Paul and Carla Bley material; when Metheny made his first recording as a leader, the magnificent Bright Size Life on ECM, it featured a medley of two Ornette tunes ("Round Trip" and "Broadway Blues"). At this point in time, it's probably a stretch to claim Metheny was blatantly influenced by Tristano, for by the late 1960's, fusion was at the head of the mainstream; Tristano himself also fell into comfortable obscurity by then. 

What Metheny does share with both Tristano and Coleman is his sheer gift for spontaneity and melody. However, it's safe to say that Coleman is the dominant influence on the Americana sensibility found in Metheny's work. His importance here lies in that after starting the commercially successful Pat Metheny Group (featuring Lyle Mays), he also pursued important projects in the Coleman lineage. 80/81 brings him and contemporary Michael Brecker together with Charlie Haden and Dewey Redman, and bridging the generational gap is Jack DeJohnette. On occasion, Paul Motian would play with the group on tour in place of DeJohnette. The material spans from folksy to free to the purely melodic.

Metheny with the 80/81 band.
From left to right: Michael Brecker, Metheny, Dewey Redman and Charlie Haden.

Perhaps of most paramount importance here is Metheny's Song X, a cooperative effort with his idol Ornette. Haden and DeJohnette return, this time augmented by a now-aged Denardo Coleman. I desperately need to listen to the whole album, but as for right now I can safely say the track "Video Games" is a trip. Metheny (with a saxophone setting on guitar synthesizer) and Coleman make for a great pairing, and their explorations here are a great modern take on the typical Ornette piece. Metheny's demented guitar trek could never be mistaken for a track by the Pat Metheny Group, but the same enthusiasm presents itself here; he even manages to sound melodic behind the dense electronic layers. Ornette's opening high C shows much promise for his solo, which is paid off not only through his joyous explorations, but also through his connection with Haden and especially the fiery DeJohnette. I must go more in-depth into this record later on; it's truly a summit for the ages.

Conclusion: New Blood

In 1993, rising star Joshua Redman released his second album as a leader, Wish, recorded with Pat Metheny, Charlie Haden and Billy Higgins. The year before, he had participated on an album Choices next to his father, Dewey Redman. Joshua Redman was entrenched in the Ornette Coleman legacy, which if nothing else shows itself through his boundless enthusiasm. Moreover, some years after his father's death, he created Still Dreaming, a tribute band for Old and New Dreams featuring other musicians who learned from the original members.

Meanwhile, Redman's contemporary Mark Turner was in search of inspiration, and found it in the twists of Tristano's pupil Warne Marsh. Outside of the Tristano school itself, Turner is likely the highest-profile name to claim inspiration from Tristano's concepts; on his second album as a leader, self-titled (which also features Redman), Turner recorded Tristano's famous "317 E 32nd Street". Turner has also developed one of the most distinctive tenor sax voices of the last thirty years: his tone, both creamy and harshly metallic, emphasizes his odd phrasing and chromatically winding lines. His partnership with guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel (who spent a period in Paul Motian's Electric Bebop Band) is another one of the great modern pairings in creative music.

This is to say that this particular strand of musical lineage continues to this day; even if nobody remembers their names, the influence of Lennie Tristano and Ornette Coleman will continue to live on through the development of this music. Next time, for Part 2: the more immediate influence of Coleman's legendary Five Spot gig, as well as the after-effects of Tristano's work, are examined.

Further reading:

The Story Behind 80/81 - This is an excellent delve into the landmark meeting helmed by Metheny.

Lennie Tristano at 100 - yet another piece from Ethan Iverson's blog. While commemorating/celebrating the pianist's legacy, Iverson also perfectly analyzes the dense racial history surrounding Tristano. Definitely worth the read.

Further listening:

Lennie Tristano's "Line Up"

Ornette Coleman's "Lonely Woman" - a landmark melody of jazz from Coleman's album The Shape of Jazz to Come.

Ornette Coleman's "Kaleidoscope" from This Is Our Music

A concert by the American Jazz Quartet with Dewey Redman, Charlie Haden, and Paul Motian, and here featuring trumpeter Baikida Carroll - Part 1 and Part 2

Paul Bley's album Footloose!

Pat Metheny's 80/81 and Song X

Joshua Redman's Wish and Mark Turner's self-titled

The Three Cohens play "Line Up" - an example of the longevity of Tristano's ideas. Plus, this transcription is hard enough to play alone - siblings Anat, Avishai and Yuval Cohen all do it together while wandering their hallways.

Spotlight: Paul Motian

(original pronunciation: MOH-ti-en)

(later, preferred pronunciation: MOH-shun, like the word motion)

Paul Motian, while a somewhat undersung figure in the jazz world, nonetheless created his own highly personal sound not only as a drummer, but as a composer and worldbuilder. Many people would recognize his name from notable sessions with the Bill Evans Trio, among them Portrait in Jazz, Explorations, and various live recordings from the Village Vanguard. However, upon closer inspection, Motian's strengths far surpassed his sound in Evans' trio, especially later in his career. Perhaps more notable than his partnership with Evans is his stint with Keith Jarrett's trio and quartet, which lasted over ten years (compared to the five spent with Evans). Moreover, his own groups rarely included a pianist and rather placed emphasis on the guitar; his wonderful working trio highlighted Bill Frisell's iconoclastic spectrum of sounds, and his Electric Bebop Band featured two (sometimes three) different guitarists. His brilliant playing involved subverting time, interesting tone colors (especially on the cymbals), strong group interaction, and tuning the drums in a way that showcased his Armenian heritage.

While many have stated Motian's drumming in the Evans trio sounds stifled, I think it's absolutely beautiful. I agree that it was very much restrained based on what he would do later, but it's the icing on the cake that balances the busier playing of Evans and bassist Scott LaFaro. Not to mention, one can already hear Motian breaking away from typical jazz patterns; this is especially highlighted on ballads, on which he focuses not so much on time as on texture and sound. They also definitely highlight some of the best cymbals of any jazz drummer ever. For a perfect example of this, look no further than Bill Evans' trio playing "My Foolish Heart" at the Village Vanguard, on the album Waltz for Debby:

At the beginning of his career, Motian played with the enigmatic Thelonious Monk. While it seems inconsequential since his stint was brief and there are no released recordings of them together, it actually had a profound impact on Motian's development. Not only did Monk give him some drumming advice, but playing with Monk left an imprint on his entire career; it didn't click with me until very recently that Motian is the Thelonious Monk of the drums. Both were criticized for having poor technique, but both also ended up honing very personal, very jagged, and very spontaneous rhythms; both were also steeped in tradition while simultaneously driving the music into the future. 

One of the first recordings where Motian comes into his own is Trio 64, a Bill Evans album also featuring bassist Gary Peacock. Not surprisingly, this would be Motian's last album with Evans, for reasons Keith Jarrett described: "Bill wouldn't let him use sticks." On "Everything Happens to Me", while Motian still provides lush backing with brushes, he manages to sneak in some sharp counter-attack on sticks. He pushes Evans with a snapping crackle on "A Sleeping Bee", and "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" (!) showcases the interplay between the two at its best. In particular, Motian finds common ground with Gary Peacock, whose Scott LaFaro-esque acrobatics are pushed to the limit with a feeling of urgency; the pair's chemistry is magical when Evans drops out during Peacock's solos, especially on "A Sleeping Bee". As a musical example, here is, you guessed it:

Past his stint with Evans, as well as a brief time with pianist Paul Bley, Motian was asked to play on Keith Jarrett's first album as a leader. Jarrett recalls what he thought of hearing Motian for the first time:

"Someone had played me an amazing tape of Lowell Davidson playing free with Motian, and I couldn’t believe it was Paul on drums: I had only heard Paul with Bill [Evans] and said, 'Who the hell is that drummer?' When they told me it was Paul, I put that information away in my mental file."

 

To my knowledge, it's also the first recorded outing with Motian and bassist Charlie Haden, which would start a professional and personal friendship lasting over forty years. In general, it's an ode to Jarrett's incredibly rich and nuanced vision that Life Between the Exit Signs is as good as it is, especially for a debut solo album. I've gushed about this trio before (see here), so I'll keep this brief. The album is notable for Jarrett's early knack for more folksy/Ornette Coleman-style music; not only did Haden help accomplish this, being a former employee of Ornette, but now Motian is finally freed from his shackles, with a disposition full of bright sparks. Not only does he fly off the rails on romps such as "Lisbon Stomp" and "Love No. 2", but his experience with Evans also plays into his softer support on "Love No. 1" and Cole Porter's "Everything I Love". Here is the jaunty "Lisbon Stomp", an original of Jarrett's:

Starting in the late 1960's, Motian would find himself in a variety of contexts. Outside of Jarrett's trio (which would later expand into a quartet with reedist Dewey Redman), Motian also played in Charlie Haden's Liberation Music Ensemble, Paul Bley's trio, and with pianist-composer Carla Bley on her epic Escalator Over the Hill; he even played with singer-songwriter Arlo Guthrie at Woodstock.

It was now that Motian gained a reputation for supportive, abstracted group playing in settings with or without a pulse, and in 1972, at 41 years old, he recorded his debut solo album Conception Vessel. Not only does this showcase his sensitive drumming, but also his development up to that point as a composer; he shows a clear influence of Ornette Coleman (and Ornette's associate Dewey Redman) in how he prioritizes melody, but he adds an air of mystery and spiritualism. Some prime examples are the gorgeous opening "Georgian Bay" next to Haden and guitarist Sam Brown, the striking drum feature "Ch'i Energy", and the transcendent title track played as a duet with Jarrett. Also featured are Leroy Jenkins' violin and Becky Friend's flute on the last track, "Inspiration from a Vietnamese Lullaby". Motian's second album, Tribute, is in a similar vein, featuring the return of Sam Brown and Charlie Haden, along with second guitarist Paul Metzke and alto saxophonist Carlos Ward.

Motian's third album as leader, Dance, featured his first regular trio with saxophonist Charles Brackeen and bassist David Izenzon (another associate of Ornette). This stripped-down sax trio setting beautifully showcases Motian's intensely melodic themes and how they can be utilized for improvisation. In this regard, Brackeen is a perfect casting choice for his often-delicate soprano and constant stream of melodic ideas; on the track "Prelude", he switches to tenor and absolutely blows the roof off the place. David Izenzon also makes some positive contributions for his ability to create unusual textures, making for a perfect sparring partner for the subversive Motian. While neither Conception Vessel or Dance are on YouTube, there are a few live recordings of the band from the latter, such as this version of the song "Dance":

Not long after this, Motian would eventually assemble the working band that would gain the most acclaim: his trio with saxophonist Joe Lovano and guitarist Bill Frisell. While the group had recorded as a quintet with a bassist and second saxophonist (on the album Psalm), it was their first trio record, It should've happened a long time ago, where their partnership truly starts to blossom. The heart-aching title track, the nuttiness of "Fiasco", the straight-ahead fire of "In the Year of the Dragon", and the return of "Conception Vessel"; this group leaves an indelible mark on anything it touches. 

The chemistry of this band was so perfect that it would continue operation until Motian's death in 2011. In the meantime, the trio alone would record nine albums, and the lack of a bass player gave them an elastic nature that perfectly fit Motian's musical conception. The often nutty yet pure and melodic sounds from Frisell's guitar, mixed with the Coltrane-steeped explorations from Lovano, perfectly suited Motian's driving, yet fragmented pulse. A perfect showcase for this group is this live performance from 1986, in Lisbon (in particular, listen for "In the Year of the Dragon", Bill Evans' "Twelve Tone Tune Two", and Monk's "Pannonica"):

Starting in the early 90's, apart from the trio, Motian started his Electric Bebop Band, which acted as a way of confronting the music's roots. Besides Motian's own compositions, the band also played bebop tunes by Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk and Bud Powell, as well as other standards from varying sources. Throughout its existence, the group featured many of the greatest saxophonists and guitarists in the music. In its first iterations, it featured Joshua Redman, Chris Potter, and Kurt Rosenwinkel; more recent members included Ben Monder, Steve Cardenas, Chris Cheek and Tony Malaby.

The sounds the group can get is amazing; often, both guitarists or saxophonists would improvise at the same time. In this performance from 2002, the guitarists form a floating, yet solid wall of harmony before the entire group plays Motian's oblique line ("Look to the Black Wall") in unison. Cheek and Malaby take winding saxophone solos, and the guitar solos from Jakob Bro and Cardenas are equally probing. The solos also highlight something else that made the Bebop Band special: while Motian often churns at the drums and pushes his younger players, he never does so in an overly virtuosic or show-offish manner. Anything he plays is in tandem with the group, and any time he comes out in front is meant to push the group forward.

In summation, Motian epitomizes the trope of the eccentric musician, but to his credit it gives him that much more attention. He also sits next to Miles Davis as one of the most paradoxical musicians in the last 100 years: he had perfect time, but he often abandoned metronomic pulse. He was steeped in American drumming traditions, but he was hellbent on playing what he thought sounded good. As a person, he was direct and often abrasive, but always full of love, and it absolutely seeps into his playing and the way he interacts with whatever group he's in. He insisted on building his own personal musical universe, derived from jazz and folk music among other things, while at the same time he shared and often fully offered the spotlight to the people who played with him. He was the ultimate supporter, but he reveled in the limelight and controversy around his many quirks.

Paul Motian has been a huge inspiration to me as of late, as a musician and risk-taker, and I hope this inspires you to dive deeper into his life's work.

Further reading:

• The Paradox of Continuity: a brilliant essay by pianist and writer Ethan Iverson on Motian's career, written not long after Motian's death.
  
• Ethan Iverson's interview with Keith Jarrett: this is also extremely valuable because among other things, Jarrett discusses his relationship with Motian. Despite Jarrett's European Quartet being more well-known, about half of the interview revolves around the stellar American Quartet in which Motian was featured. (Incidentally, visit here for an in-depth dive into Jarrett's American Quartet discography.)
  
• Reviews of Motian's early ECM discography: these very poetic reviews perfectly translate Motian's ideas into descriptions. While not necessarily containing much criticism, they're fun to read and they offer insight into six of Motian's albums.
  

Further listening:

• Byablue, an album by Keith Jarrett's American Quartet featuring almost exclusively tunes written by Motian
• Motian's drum work with Keith Jarrett's trio and quartet is some of the best drumming of all time. While all of it holds up, a particularly stellar example is on Eyes of the Heart, during the Encores A and B. On Encore A especially, Motian absolutely tears up the kit using only brushes.
• Also check out this NDR concert recording from 1972; the other half was released as Hamburg '72 on ECM in 2014.
  
  
• Much of Paul Motian's discography as leader was released on ECM, and nothing from the label can be found on YouTube anymore unless one upgrades to Premium. So go check it out on Spotify on your own, it's definitely worth it. It's some of the most heart-wrenching music out there.
• Songs and Rituals in Real Time, Tim Berne - Berne is one of my favorite alto players and composers, so it's really a treat to hear him playing with Motian (as well as Motian's on/off bassist Ed Schuller).
• Etudes, under Charlie Haden's name but featuring the brilliant pianist Geri Allen. This group was dynamite, and the ways Allen and the rhythm section play off each other are certainly different from Jarrett or Paul Bley. The group starts with a brilliant cover of Ornette Coleman's "Lonely Woman", and other numbers include group originals and Herbie Nichols' "Montgomery Shuffle". Plus, this is only the trio's first effort: the rest of their work is worth finding.
• Apart from his regular groups, Motian also co-led a trio, Tethered Moon, with pianist Masabumi Kikuchi and former Bley associate Gary Peacock. Motian is in perfect company, since the baand and its members create a kind of paradox: they do not shy away from (and in fact embrace) standards, but any material they do tackle is approached from a very subversive, direct, and somewhat tongue-in-cheek perspective. At least, this is their aesthetic on their self-titled 1992 album chronicling their second session. It is very highly reccommended.
• This redux of "Conception Vessel": this recording is from the year Motian died, but he proves as unrelenting as ever. Here, he supports a talented ensemble with pianist David Virelles, bassist Ben Street, and the singular Mark Turner on tenor. The band deconstructs Motian's theme in the spirit of meditation and introspection that defined its first recording.
• One last thing: go watch the incredible documentary Motian in Motion. It provides anecdotes from many musicians who have played with him, including Chris Potter, Tony Malaby, and Gary Peacock, as well as recorded interviews and asides from Motian himself. The documentary gives extraordinary insight into not only Motian the drummer, but Motian the person and the personality, for he believed them to be one and the same.