Dave Brubeck

* The Gates of Justice

Dave Brubeck Trio; Kevin Deas, bass; Alberto Mizrahi, cantor; Baltimore
Choral Arts Society/Russell Gloyd
Naxos 8.559414 Total time: 50:13

Summary for the Busy Executive: Mainly for fans, unfortunately.

Brubeck's place in the history of West Coast jazz seems at this point
fairly secure.  Like many jazz composers, however, he has followed the
siren call of the symphony orchestra.  Unlike many, he actually formally
studied, most notably with Darius Milhaud.  Furthermore, even his jazz
compositions and his blocky, chordal style occasionally inhabited a kind
of limbo between the postwar jazz scene and Milhaud's polytonal harmonic
approach.  The famous "Blue Rondo a la Turk," for example, owes as much
to Les Six as to Mozart.  His classical compositions haven't made much
of a dent, however, despite some beautiful moments in them.

The CD has come out as part of Naxos's "American Jewish Music" project
with the Milken Archive.  I hate to sound so parochial, but the choice
of Brubeck mystifies me, since he's not now, and never has been, Jewish.
Nevertheless, Brubeck conceived the piece as speaking, at least in part,
to Jews in particular.

The Gates of Justice comes from 1969.  Brubeck wrote it as a way
of bringing Jews and blacks back together, in the wake of many Jews'
abandonment of the Civil Rights movement and expressions of anti-Semitism
from certain extreme blacks.  It was a lovely gesture, but accomplished
very little.  Maybe Auden was right, at least here: poetry makes nothing
happen.  At any rate, one of the nice symbolic bits is its call for both
a real cantor and a black baritone.  For me, the most impressive thing
musically was Brubeck's ability to bring out the similarities between
Jewish cantorial chant and jazz soloing.  Much of the structural
underpinning of the piece comes from blues, particularly in phrasing and
harmonic rhythm.  Indeed, in general the music for the classical forces
in the oratorio doesn't differ all that much from the music for the jazz
trio.  We find ourselves again in Brubeck's half-light of classical and
jazz.  It's a matter of emphasis more than of a true change of language.
Brubeck's oratorio sounds less spontaneous than Brubeck's jazz - no
surprise.  Brubeck avoids the usual trap of the jazz man, essentially
that of a miniaturist working in large forms.  The music moves over a
long span - many times haltingly, but it does move.  However, the rhythm
is also surprisingly clunky at times.  Who expected that from a musician
known for his rhythms?  Furthermore, Brubeck's inexperience at this time
does show.  There's little textural variety.  The oratorio could use
more and clearer counterpoint.  When Brubeck tries on counterpoint, the
music tends to become thick.  The jazz sections, fortunately, provide a
bit of leavening.  Here, the natural give-and-take of the players furnishes
whatever contrapuntal interest the oratorio has.  In general, I suspect
very strongly that Brubeck's jazz fame rather than the intrinsic merit
of the piece prompted this recording.  The work is nice enough but
bleaches out next to Honegger's Le Roi David or to any of the Poulenc
chorus-and-orchestra pieces, let alone something like Britten's War
Requiem.

Nevertheless, the performance is pretty good.  Russell Gloyd has been
Brubeck's conductor for years and years.  Indeed, it's a little difficult
to get up a performance of a Brubeck classical work without him.  Cantor
Alberto Mizrahi strains, but not at the upper extreme of his register.
Go figure.  He tends to push notes out, rather than let them flow.  Kevin
Deas, a very stylish singer, does well with an ungrateful part.  Brubeck
has him at the upper end of the baritone register, even at points that
don't have to raise the emotional temperature of the work, although a
high note seems Brubeck's only way to heat things up.  The chorus does
as well as it can with Brubeck's thick writing.  Diction becomes the
major victim.  Still, one has a libretto.  The recorded sound is okay,
though not spectacular.

Steve Schwartz