JAZZ REVIEW : Bird-Lovers Have Their Day at Musical Tribute to Parker : The legendary saxophonist is remembered in style in Huntington Beach performance by the Supersax group.

Even though he left the planet back in 1955, Charlie (Bird) Parker probably is out there somewhere, smiling every time Med Flory plays the alto sax. Bird’s grin must have been ear-to-ear Saturday as Flory joined bassist Jim DeJulio’s trio at Maxwell’s for Bird and ballads.

Flory, the moving force behind Supersax, the Grammy-winning ensemble dedicated to playing Parker’s music, is a living compendium of the saxophone legend’s musical wit and wisdom. Even when the mood turns away from be-bop, Flory likes to quote from Parker’s solos while inserting the same references to other tunes that Bird often used. And when he’s playing one of the numbers closely associated with Parker--say “Cherokee,” or “Now’s the Time”--well, hold onto your seat.

Flory, while acknowledging the debt, probably would deny the comparison. You can picture him responding to such claims with, “Sir, I knew Charlie Parker. And I’m no Charlie Parker.” True enough, but that doesn’t mean the sizable saxophonist doesn’t call up Parker’s musical image.

Nor does it mean that Flory isn’t his own man. He turned to a softer tone and attack on such slower-tempo pieces as “Embraceable You” and “My Foolish Heart,” playing with warmth, rather than heat. On up-tempo numbers he displayed some of Jackie McLean’s inquisitive edge without losing sight of Parker’s enthusiasms. And he repeatedly worked up inventive transitions and endings, sometimes challenging the rhythm section to follow.

Drummer Frank Capp was up to that challenge. A fine swing percussionist who co-leads the Capp-Pierce Juggernaut big band, Capp brought his bop chops and a big set of ears to the engagement. He often echoed Flory’s phrasing on his modest kit, sometimes hitting on the beat with the saxophonist, sometimes working all around it. Capp’s tough snare and tom-tom exchanges during his solo on “Scrapple From the Apple” were a rollicking complement to Flory’s honky-tonk touches.

The smoothness of the rhythm section, led by DeJulio’s firm support and melodic improvisations, added modern touches to the sound, indicative of the time that has passed and how familiar material that once seemed impossible has become since be-bop’s heyday. Pianist Wally Minko brought lush, chord-rich ways to his improvisations, rather than the pointed, direct attack one might have expected from the late, great bop-era pianist Bud Powell. Minko seemed especially assured during the ballads and his work during “Lover Man” was particularly moving.

Flory answered a call for “Little Darlin’ ” with a straight-ahead treatment and a minimum of Parkerisms, unlike Tadd Dameron’s “Groovin’ High,” which he filled with Bird calls. Capp paced the race-horse tempo up with claps on his rims before switching to his ride cymbal. At one point he came out of his seat to utilize the side of the piano, then topped it off with a strong cymbal shot that he damped with his hand.

The quartet members occasionally had problems finding common ground, with Flory and Capp going one way while Minko and DeJulio turned another--something to be expected in this kind of unrehearsed session. But when the groove was established and Flory, looking straight out over the room, was stringing long roller-coaster lines together with the kind of accents Charlie Parker was fond of playing, there was truth to the often-heard claim that “Bird lives!”