JAZZ REVIEW : Pianist Has the Sound, if Not the Emotion

For Marcus Roberts, artistic development seems to dictate journeying back in time.

When the pianist first arrived on the jazz scene in 1987, winning the first Thelonious Monk Institute of Jazz piano competition and then joining the band of trumpeter Wynton Marsalis, he was stylistically a contemporary modernist. Later, he made albums--notably “Deep in the Shed”--that had decided nuances of the small-band recordings Duke Ellington made in the ‘50s.

Now Roberts has chosen jazz and pop standards from the turn of the century to the ‘40s as his repertoire--as evidenced by his recital Thursday at the Irvine Barclay Theatre, and by his two latest albums, “If I Could Be With You” and “As Serenity Approaches.”

This earlier period is a fertile one for Roberts, as his interpretations often draw on such bedrock innovators of jazz piano as Art Tatum, Ellington, Jelly Roll Morton and Erroll Garner.

As Roberts pointed out Thursday, he doesn’t play strict re-creations of such tunes as James P. Johnson’s “Carolina Shout,” Scott Joplin’s “Maple Leaf Rag” or Ellington’s “Prelude to a Kiss.” Rather, he offers his own take on these classics, dropping in modern elements from flashing Gil Evans-ish chords to rhythmically shifting Monk-ish lines.

Roberts deserves credit for tackling such important music from jazz’s early years--how often does one hear Morton’s “Honky Tonk” or Johnson’s riotous and ribald “Shout”? But he has not figured out how to turn these numbers into fully integrated pieces that come vividly to life.

At the Irvine Barclay, Roberts played mostly unaccompanied, and his renditions, packed as much with an air of reverence as with viable creative spark, had much to recommend them.

His primary strength was his extraordinary sound--he could tinkle the 10-foot Steinway so gently you thought you were seeing stardust, and he could make it roar and rumble like a locomotive. He displayed a technical command that allowed him to execute difficult passages with precision.

At the same time, Roberts’ performance was somewhat detached and formal. He focused on each selection’s melody, even in his improvisations, giving his numbers a certain accessibility. This approach also kept the interpretations somewhat predictable and stiffly bound up. It seemed he felt that if he were to let go and freely extemporize, allowing his feelings to carry him, the rendition might suddenly fly away, and take the audience along with it.

And while the pianist is not without a sense of humor, as revealed in his spoken introductions to selections, that kind of playfulness and emotionality seemed to enter the performance on a hit-and-miss basis.

Sometimes a slow ballad, say Cole Porter’s “Everything Happens to Me,” was heartfelt, evoking gorgeous statements from Roberts--he ended this number with a beautifully lingering chorus. But on “It Had to Be You,” Roberts indulged in tactless overkill.

Roberts showcased a good trumpeter, Marcus Printup, on two numbers: the tender “Jade” and the lively “Ferdinand LeMenthe.” The latter and Morton’s “Honky Tonk” were the evening’s only two blues numbers, and their vivacity sparked spontaneous shouts from the audience. This type of driving, freewheeling number is what Roberts’ recital craves.