This week at the Blue Note, Donald Harrison is striking a blow for the alto saxophone. The use of Adolph Sax’s higher-pitched, E-flat instrument has been in decline since the 1950s, when Bird and Pepper and Cannonball ruled the Earth. For most of the postmodern age, the focus has been on its big brother, the tenor. Rollins and Coltrane played it, and so do Joe Lovano and Branford Marsalis. Those of us who love the alto saxophone worry it might someday go the way of the long forgotten clarinet.

It hasn’t helped that three of the masters of the instrument – Bobby Watson, Arthur Blythe, and Mr. Harrison – have made themselves scarce in New York in recent years. Thankfully, this spring has seen all three make their first appearances here in a number of years. Of the shows I caught, Mr. Harrison’s performance was the most satisfying.

Mr. Harrison is working in that most demanding of settings for a horn player: a trio, with bass and drums but no guitar, piano, or conventional chordal instrument. With a piano or organ, there’s a bit of a mask over the proceedings – a good pianist can make the rest of the group sound better and even make a leader’s wrong notes sound right.

When a horn player “strides,” as they used to call it (meaning soloing with just bass and drums, as on Roy Eldridge’s 1955 “Striding”), he pretty much has to summon the chord changes out of his own head and horn. What’s more, he has no place to hide. The trio format is thus mighty nice for those of us who want to hear the glorious sound of that horn with as little as possible to get in the way, but mighty rough on Mr. Harrison. Fortunately, high-caliber players Ron Carter and Billy Cobham helped him out.

Mr. Harrison started the first set on Wednesday with a familiar 12-bar line, “Blues in the Closet” by Bud Powell, which is identical to “Collard Greens and Black-Eyed Peas” by Oscar Pettiford (Powell recorded it under both titles). Both Mr. Carter and Mr. Cobham soloed, reminding us that the horn trio can only work if one accepts the idea (foreign to prewar jazz) that the bass and drums are equal partners in melody and improvisation.

Mr. Harrison’s only original tune of the set was “Infinite Heart,” which at first seemed to be a standard 32-bar format song. The bridge, however, was a variation on the main A section, taken up half a step. Mr. Cobham excelled here and throughout. He is best known for his work with 1970s fusion bands, in which stamina and the energy to hold one’s own against electronics were the most important assets. I never realized he could play with such subtlety and intimacy.

“Easy Living,” was, as always (whether announced as such or not) a dedication to Billie Holiday. The only romantic, slow ballad Mr. Harrison played, it gave him the chance to compensate for the lack of a piano by playing long, chromatic lines on his instrument – the kind a keyboardist more generally plays. This third number turned out to be a ballad medley. When Mr. Carter soloed, he played the full verse and chorus of “Stardust” instead of improvising on the Robin-Rainger song. This reminded me of Oscar Pettiford’s marvelous 1955 solo on the Carmichael classic.

More jazz fundamentalism followed, with the “I Got Rhythm” chords in the form of Sonny Rollins’s 1954 “Oleo.” Mr. Harrison burned up the harmonies and raced around the cycle of progressions as fast as possible. I knew Mr. Cobham would play a big solo here, but not that he would start with his hands directly on the tom-toms, making them sound like congas, before switching imperceptibly to sticks.

For a closer Mr. Harrison called a quick, samba treatment of “I’ll Remember April,” an appropriate choice considering the month will soon be a memory. It was a short set, but this kind of playing is particularly demanding. As I climbed the stairs, I could already hear Mr. Harrison in his dressing room, running scales and practicing for the late show.

Donald Harrison at the Blue Note until May 1 (131 W. 3rd Street, at Sixth Avenue, 212-475-8592).