An “Accidental” Memorial for Lee Konitz

courtesy of Naxos of America

Those that have been following this site for some time (at least since the beginning of COVID-19 lockdown) may have noticed that, where archival jazz is concerned, I have endured an up-and-down relationship with the Copenhagen-based Storyville Records. While the label seems to be committed to historical documents, the commitment to history on two recent releases, one of the Teddy Wilson Trio and the other of Dexter Gordon, leave much to be desired. Where history has gotten a better shake has been in recordings of live performances associated with the awarding of the Danish Jazzpar Prize founded by trumpeter Arnvid Meyer in 1990. A little less than a year ago, I offered “lockdown relief” through three Storyville concert albums of Roy Haynes, Tommy Flanagan, and Geri Allen. When I wrote that article, Haynes was the only one of the three that was alive; and, as I write this, I am happy to write that he is still alive and, to the best of my knowledge, still going strong.

I cannot say the same for the awardee whose Storyville album was released at the beginning of this month. This was the 1992 winner of the Jazzpar Prize, saxophonist Lee Konitz. The album was originally released in 1993, documenting the concert associated with the award. Storyville has been planning this reissue for several months; but, sadly, Konitz did not live to see the revived release. Indeed, he was an early victim of the COVID virus and died at the age of 92 on April 15 of last year.

The following day I wrote my own memorial article for Konitz. I observed that my own path to Konitz’ work began through pianist and composer Lennie Tristano, who was one of the most adventurous jazz composers in the years following the end of World War II. Tristano was never a “household name,” the way, for example, Miles Davis was; but, when it came to adventurous composition and improvisation, he was very much a “leader of the pack.” I first learned about him through a 1997 Mosaic anthology of his performances with both Konitz and saxophonist Warne Marsh, and my thoughts about “adventurous” jazz have never been the same since then.

The Jazzpar album consists of twelve tracks, which bring together both innovative arrangements of standards and adventurous compositions. Two of the tracks have Konitz playing with The JAZZPAR All Star Nonet, directed by saxophonist Jens Søndergaard, who also plays soprano, alto, and baritone instruments. Most of the other tracks are duo performances; and one, Arthur Schwartz’ “Alone Together,” divides Konitz and Søndergaard across the two stereophonic channels. Five of the tracks are Konitz originals, all of which seem to have been inspired by those with whom he had worked.

It would be fair to say that listening to any of Konitz’ tracks, whether originals or his interpretations of the tunes of others, does not come easily. What might be called the “opacity” of his work probably comes from his close relationship with Tristano. As a result of that relationship, his foundations have less to do with the inventiveness of other saxophonists and more to do with Tristano’s capacity for invention through the piano keyboard. Nevertheless, through continued attentive listening, the mind behind the ear can begin to see its way through that opacity, so to speak; and this Storyville reissue provides a useful collection of performances to develop such attentive listening.