Jazz Reviews : A Formidable and Good-Humored Branford Marsalis at the Roxy

Branford Marsalis, who may be reaching a wider audience through his impressive comedic performance in the movie “Throw Momma From the Train” than he can attract as a saxophonist, is a musician of formidable power and conviction, as he revealed Thursday evening at the Roxy.

A good-humored personality who even cracked a joke by way of an introduction (something brother Wynton would never do), Marsalis alternated between tenor and soprano saxophones in an esoteric but consistently excellent program.

Most of the compositions steered away from orthodox chords, leaning in a modal direction. Written by Marsalis or by such former colleagues as the pianist Kenny Kirkland and drummer Tony Williams, they afforded him an opportunity to show his capacity for building tension, sometimes upward (by taking a phrase, elaborating it and gradually moving higher) or outward, by displaying his mastery of dynamics.

The only relatively traditional song was J. J. Johnson’s “Lament,” a vehicle for his tenor in its most serenely appealing mood. But it was on soprano sax that he showed most fluently how far he has advanced beyond the jazz mainstream since his first appearance in the forefront six years ago.

Billy Childs, who has been his regular pianist for two months, is the perfect foil for him, a past master of the post-McCoy Tyner idiom, with technique and ideas to spare. Carl Allen on drums and Delbert Felix on bass rounded out the quartet, their frequent tempo changes moving in easy parallel lines with the leader’s.

A surprising opener was the newly discovered pianist Harry Connick Jr. from New Orleans. How he played (a bit erratically, thumping too hard at times and occasionally dragging the beat) was less important than what he played, which was extraordinary in one so young: a weird mixture of Erroll Garner, Thelonious Monk, and Fats Waller, whose styles were current long before he was born.

His set could have been called “Songs My Father Taught Me.” Starting with “Birth of the Blues,” he moved on to “These Foolish Things” and “A Foggy Day” before winding up with a perfect vocal imitation of Fats Waller on the latter’s 1934 hit, “I Believe in Miracles.” Connick, who is 20 years old and a student of Ellis Marsalis (Branford’s father), is a most intriguing anachronism, from whom great things may be expected.