O.C. JAZZ REVIEW : Walton Has Keys to Kingdom

The role of the jazz pianist as he remakes standard material in his own image can be positively god-like. And few do it in such divine fashion as Cedar Walton.

That was apparent during Walton’s first set Saturday at Maxwell’s by the Sea, the second night of a three-night stand with drummer Billy Higgins and bassist Tony Dumas. That Walton can take the most familiar tune and, partly through clever arranging, partly through his own improvisational prowess, turn it into something that seems completely new, was clear right from the opening number, “All the Things You Are.”

After issuing the tune’s introductory vamp in somewhat sinister tones, Walton traced its theme with sharp, distanced chords, providing only the bare bones while Dumas and Higgins fleshed out the spaces. The pianist stayed surprisingly close to the melody as he opened his improvisation, then began to pry it open while Higgins worked a combination of muffled snare drum and rim shots.

Soon Walton was matching sinuous lines spun by a blurred right hand with strong chordal passages that jumped in the way a child maneuvers over stones in a brook. He dropped in lines from “Fly Me to the Moon” and Eddie Harris’ “Freedom Jazz Dance” as Higgins kept up a constant rhythmic rotation between his cymbals and tom-toms. And just when the trio’s attack seemed ready to spin out of control, Dumas and Walton would hit the opening vamp in unison, providing a touchstone to all that had gone before.

These kinds of smart arrangement touches were even more apparent on “Lover Man,” the tune’s usually fluid, ballad-paced theme given a choppy reading broken further by abrupt pauses that the threesome executed in an impressively tight way. This time Dumas took the solo lead, stringing together lyrical phrases with a woody resonance before issuing a string of descending double-stops, the two tones melting together like butter. Higgins followed with a display of dynamics as he punched and patted with his brushes.

And so it went through “Willow Weep for Me,” “Satin Doll” and three Billy Strayhorn tunes. Walton gave “Willow” something of a ragtime treatment, at times lagging far behind the beat before compressing the next line into a compact blur. The rhythm of “Lush Life” cycled through swing, a walk and a bustling section that recalled busy street traffic. Walton injected some humor into Strayhorn’s “Daydream” by quoting “You’re in the Army Now.”

The pianist’s own composing skills (Walton has written a number of tunes that have gone on to become standards in their own right, such as “Bolivia,” “Mosaic” and “Mode for Joe”) were displayed during “Roni’s Decision,” a serious, full-of-changes piece that featured a Dumas and Walton unison theme statement. Higgins graced the tune with some of his most insistent ride cymbal work while mixing it up over the changes with tom-tom and snare exchanges.

Dumas, one of Los Angeles’ most under-recognized bassists, worked easily inside Walton’s creations, alternately pushing and echoing the pianist when playing in support, and, when it came his turn, soling with authority. His accurate sense of pitch and firm tone were a fine complement to these astute sounds.

Not enough can be said of Higgins, whose musical relationship with Walton goes back almost 20 years. No one pulls as much sound and color out of a modest-sized drum kit and with so little apparent effort. Yet the drummer’s complex exchanges between snare, toms and cymbals often built polyrhythms to the point it seemed as if two percussionists were at work. And just when the rhythms became most complex, Higgins would break out in his trademark smile. It’s gratifying to see a man enjoy his work so much.