The Harlem Jazz Series
Mount Morris Ascension Presbyterian Church, 16 Mount Morris Park West, New York, NY 10027
Through September 29, 2023

Sam Rivers seemed to arrive on the jazz scene all at once, fully grown, as if plucked from the head of Zeus. In 1964, He made his first album, “Fuchsia Swing Song,” and, even though the larger jazz world knew of him only as having briefly played with Miles Davis, it became an instant classic.  

Even the cover was a tip-off: rather than the usual shot of a young musician holding his horn, designer and photographer Reid Miles gave us a fisheye view of Rivers — who at 41 was hardly young, then or now — and his tenor sax, as if to convey that here was a new artist with a new way of looking at things.  

Then too, the titular reference to fuchsia, a very dainty color rarely thought of in connection to the cutting edge of modern jazz, was unexpected; even so, Blue Note released the album with a dark orange-brown background rather than bright pink. 

Rivers, whose centennial was celebrated last Friday with a spectacular big band concert at a Harlem church, would keep finding new approaches and fresh perspectives for the rest of his long career. Up until his death in 2011, he was a multi-instrumentalist, composer, bandleader, and educator, and that was just the beginning.  

The Harlem Jazz Series continues on Friday evening with a performance by bassist and bandleader Reggie Workman, who famously collaborated with Rivers on several key albums, at Mount Morris Ascension Presbyterian Church.

Rivers wrote at least one song, “Beatrice,” introduced on his first album, that’s considered a contemporary jazz standard. He made dozens of great albums and performed with his own ensembles of all sizes, large and small, all over the world.  

Yet it may be, as we celebrate his centennial in 2023, that Rivers will be most remembered for his contribution to the way jazz is presented: where Norman Granz perfected the idea of presented improvised music in a concert setting, George Wein developed the jazz festival, and, more recently, Wynton Marsalis the idea of a jazz organization with a classical model, Rivers was the role model of the do-it-yourself artist who controlled all the aspects of the music, both creative and commercial.  

He was the ideal representative of the jazz loft scene of the 1970s and 1980s, although ironically his performance space, Studio RivBea, was in a basement — down rather than up the stairs, where most such lofts resided. Rivers’s achievements are also cataloged in a new book, “The Sam Rivers Sessionography” by Rick Lopez, an impressive 768-page compendium of data.

Friday’s concert at The Mount Morris Ascension Presbyterian Church was very much in that DIY spirit.  The music was excellent, and the venue had the very boomy, very live echoey acoustics we’d expect from such a space — no problem there.  

The major issue was the sightlines.  At about 11 minutes after seven o’clock, the music started, and it seemed to be coming from nowhere. It took a moment to discover that there actually was an orchestra of 16 musicians sitting in front of us; but, unless you were in the first few pews, it was impossible to see them.  

A few tunes in, the players realized that they would be giving the audience a break if they were to stand up while they were soloing, but they didn’t stick to that practice consistently.  Also, while the music was audible, the spoken introductions — which were kept to a minimum in any case — were almost impossible to hear.

Yet the music was glorious, and the packed house fully enjoyed every note of it.  The arrangements were drawn from Rivers 1998 Brooklyn recording sessions — produced by alto saxophonist Steve Coleman, who conducted this evening — that were issued on two of the prolific composer’s best albums, the well-titled “Inspiration” and “Culmination.” 

The tunes weren’t announced, and they were all Rivers originals, — and because we mostly couldn’t see the soloists, it would be hard to identify the names of most of the tunes and who specifically played on what.

Still, there were three ringers in the sax section whom most of us could identify blindfolded, tenor saxophonist Ravi Coltrane and James Carter on baritone, apart from Mr. Coleman.  Trombonist Craig Harris, one of the organizers of the evening, also boasts a growling, moaning, larger-than-life sound on his horn that is impossible to miss. 

There also were impressive solo voices amongst the four trumpeters, Eddie Allen, Ralph Alessi, Nathan Eklund, and Camerahn Alforque.  They were joined by two renegade brass implements not found in most contemporary jazz ensembles large or small, Joseph Daley on euphonium, and tuba virtuoso Bob Stewart. 

Mr. Stewart also complimented the unusual rhythm section with drummer Tony Lewis, and two electrified players, bassist Doug Matthews and guitarist David Gilmore. The other players, trombonist Ray Anderson, alto saxophonist Lee Odom, and tenor saxophonist Roman Filiu, also soloed meaningfully.

The music was mostly aggressive, loud, and fast, but had a clear sense of direction and purpose, even in its frequently abstract moments.   There was one tune that we all knew — “Beatrice” — not necessarily because the late Rivers played it so often, but because so many other musicians have — there are over 200 recordings from the last 40 years.  

Named after Rivers’s wife and partner, the song was originally much more lyrical, especially as frequently interpreted by Chet Baker, for whom it was a favorite.  

However, they saved “Beatrice” for near the end, at which point the energy on the bandstand was overflowing, and no one in the de facto orchestra pit or in the house was in the mood to dial it down.  

I have no doubt but that the late Sam Rivers, who did some of his most “outside” early playing, quixotically enough, on an album of standards titled, “A New Conception,” would have approved.