Jazz : Pianist Cossu Returns to Form at Bon Appetit

In his first Los Angeles appearance since being severely injured in a traffic accident here last year, pianist Scott Cossu, seeming none the worse for the experience, worked his usual mix of soft ballads, impressionistic excursions and lightly rhythmic pieces into an uneven performance Saturday at Bon Appetit in Westwood.

Though it took the keyboardist some time to warm to his tasks, by the end of the first set he had begun to establish the emotive ways that have won him legions of New Age fans.

Cossu’s music has more to do with the orchestral works of Arnold Bax and George Butterworth than the jazz of Art Tatum or Thelonious Monk. He sketches pastoral landscapes with moody keyboard lines but, once he has them established, does little to put them into movement.

His opening numbers, “Desert Lightning” and “Country Faire,” both from his most recent Windham Hill release, were folk-influenced idylls, empty as the summer sky, that made little demands on listeners. “Lightning,” heard here as a duet between Cossu and percussionist Scott Vomvolakis (while guitarist Van Manakas dealt with amplification problems), had none of the flash or expectancy of a storm, while “Faire,” with its pleasant but repetitive lines, seemed like a long walk through familiar territory. Vomvolakis added what little interest the tunes carried with an inventive array of sounds from his drum kit and other percussion instruments.

Cossu’s blues and boogie-style tunes also seemed to lag rhythmically and be without emotional content. An exception was “Old Man Mambo,” highlighted by Manakas’ sparkling acoustic guitar solo and Cossu’s spirited backing.

It wasn’t until nearly the end of the set that Cossu seemed up to the task. “Kinsa” featured whirling chordal statments from the keyboardist that built in intensity while Vomvolakis rattled away on his tom-toms. “Deja Blues” and its rock-steady beat provided the frame for Cossu’s most assertive statement.

But the soft ballad seems to be the best format for the pianist’s considered, emotive approach. His unaccompanied solo on “Joana Margaret” (named for his new bride) was the kind of moving, inventive statement that Keith Jarrett might have made, full of rhythmic twists and moments of harmonic drama. George Butterworth, if not Art Tatum, would have been proud.