Adam Shulman Showcases New Album at SFJAZZ

Adam Shulman (from his SFJAZZ event page)

Last night pianist Adam Shulman brought his sextet to the Joe Henderson Lab on the ground floor of the SFJAZZ Center. The front line of the sextet consisted of Mike Olmos on trumpet, Lyle Link on alto saxophone, and Patrick Wolff on tenor saxophone. Rhythm was provided by John Wiitala on bass and Evan Hughes on drums.

This was the group that Shulman assembled for his latest recording, Full Tilt. Over the course of about an hour, the sextet showcased four tracks from the album: the title track (“Full Tilt”), “Mr. Timmons,” “The Conquerer,” and “San Francisco National Cemetery.” They then wrapped up the set with Lennie Niehaus’ “Whose Blues,” probably based on the track from the Jazz West Coast anthology performed by the Lennie Niehaus Quintet.

I am not ashamed to admit that this was a program that was solidly and unabashedly in my comfort zone. It was basically a sincere reflection back on the transition from the late Fifties into the early Sixties. Bebop had become an accepted discourse, and there were any number of adventurous players looking for new paths forward.

“Mr. Timmons” is named after Bobby Timmons, a jazz pianist I know best from when he provided piano for Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers. He is probably best known for composing the title track for Blakey’s Blue Note album Moanin’. If Shulman cited any explicit Timmons passages, they did not trigger any memories; but much of the imaginative solo work from the entire group reminded me of the uninhibited spirit that made the Messengers (in their many different incarnations) so compelling.

Both “The Conquerer” and “San Francisco National Cemetery” were composed when Shulman had a residency at the Presidio of San Francisco. It was hard to miss the undercurrents of irony in the former, but the latter was one of those special pieces that sits squarely on the boundary between jazz and chamber music. As might be guessed, Olmos opened with a reflection on “Taps;” but it was a highly deconstructed reflection, concerned more with the solitude of the instrument than the funereal fanfare itself. That introduction established a dark mood reflected by all members of the sextet and concluding with a mournful processional drumbeat from Hughes.

The Niehaus selection closed out the set by brightening up the shades cast by Shulman’s cemetery meditations. If “Mr. Timmons” reflected on the jazz scene in New York and the advances enabled by record labels such as Blue Note and recording technicians such as Rudy Van Gelder, “Whose Blues” was a reminder that the West Coast was cultivating its own culture of jazz innovators. In the longer run of history, Niehaus may be better remembered for the many film soundtracks he provided; but his contributions to the West Coast Jazz movement were as significant as those from the likes of Chet Baker and Gerry Mulligan.

Taken as a whole, Shulman’s set was a thoroughly imaginative and engaging reflection on a time when jazz innovation was in prime condition.