DAVIS & GORDON : TWO JAZZ THRONES ARE ROCKING

“The thrones are rocking to their fall--it is the twilight of the kings!”

So said early 20th-Century poet Annie Johnson Flint, anticipating with amazing prescience what happened Wednesday at Hollywood Bowl, when two respected musicians were heard in circumstances that left this longtime admirer frustrated and aggrieved.

In the case of Miles Davis it was less a matter of his ability than of the conditions in which he chooses to present himself.

But the matter of Dexter Gordon was something else again: Here was a once formidable talent no longer in command of the values that established him as the foremost tenor saxophonist of the be-bop era.

Gordon’s surroundings were in no way responsible. On the contrary, the four men who worked with him were stunningly effective. Cedar Walton at the piano, Buster Williams on bass and Billy Higgins on drums opened the program with a trio number that cooked from intro to coda. Then Bobby Hutcherson--no more eloquent vibraphonist can be found on today’s jazz scene--added a fourth element of virtuosity, playing one of his earliest and most engaging compositions, a blithe waltz entitled “Little B’s Poem.”

Gordon did not come on until 30 minutes into the concert. Although he remained on stage for 40 minutes, his total playing time was some 12 or 14 minutes in the course of three tunes, all from the score of “ ‘Round Midnight,” the movie that earned him an Academy Award nomination as best actor.

It was common knowledge that Gordon had not worked for two or three years before he made the film, but his on-screen playing at least achieved a measure of the old spirit from time to time. Today little is left; shaky intonation, a dull sound probably produced by a very hard reed and a general lack of continuity and inspiration added up to a performance that brought to mind the waning days of other careers, particularly the latter-day work of the great Coleman Hawkins.

Gordon, who talked very slowly and possibly was having trouble breathing, left enough space between his opening and closing solos to allow plenty of room for long workouts by the other men. In the closing “Rhythmaning,” Hutcherson and Walton took flight with magnificent ease and Higgins covered himself with glory in a sensitive solo using the brushes.

Davis offered what has become, since his return to the scene in 1981, a predictable pattern, with fleeting moments of great beauty separated by long passages of great noise. The contest between his six men and the group backing Gordon was fascinating--sensitivity gave way to density, finesse yielded to volume, integrity to intensity.

Davis, wandering from trumpet to keyboard, played one or two brief, affecting, muted passages. His saxophonist, Kenny Garrett, is full of sound and fury. A guitarist named Foley played some whining blues. Michael Jackson’s “Human Nature” was strictly pop music in contrast to the funk that prevailed during most of the hour.

The sheer, shattering, shock-wave monotony became so wearing that by about 10:30 (the show ran until almost 11) the customers were walking out in droves. Would they have waited, say, if Davis had teamed up with Walton, Hutcherson, Higgins and Williams to play “ ‘Round Midnight”? It is hard to believe that he is not still capable of that sort of mastery, which he gave us for so many magical years.