McPherson Updates Be-Bop Traditions

The spirit of be-bop lives on in the play of saxophonist Charles McPherson. But labeling the 55-year-old alto man as purely a bop disciple is a bit misleading.

Sure, his style--reflecting formative years in Detroit with bop pianist Barry Harris--owes much to Charlie Parker. But McPherson, a longtime associate of the late Charles Mingus, has refined the be-bop tradition, bringing it squarely into the present.

His appearance Friday at Club Brasserie in the Bel Age Hotel painted the saxman as something of a missing link, a player who spans the influences of Parker’s generation with that of John Coltrane, Sonny Rollins and beyond. The result is a startling mix of now-and-then with the urgency, and often the language of bop, colored with the honesty and soul-searching qualities of more modern times.

While the Parker influence was most apparent on tunes pulled from the be-bop songbook, notably “Cherokee” and “Blue and Boogie,” at no time did the saxophonist strictly ape the Yardbird sound. Soloing over lengthy periods, McPherson scooted along with agility and wit, establishing a narrative flow and sticking with it until his tale reached a logical climax. Themes arose and then resurfaced, with certain lines serving as touchstones. If McPherson were a writer, he’d be known as a master storyteller.

The saxophonist got able, if not equally astute, backing from a rhythm section comprised of musicians a generation his junior. Son and drummer Chuck McPherson seemed most attuned to his father’s attack, providing the kind of timekeeping that let the saxophonist freely explore rhythmic nuances. Bassist Jeff Littleton, though not always perfectly pitched, accompanied with a varying array of phrases that were never repetitious, even at the fastest tempos.

The generational difference was most noticeable in the work of keyboardist Greg Kurstin. Kurstin, who’s toured with vibist Bobby Hutcherson and is seen locally with saxophonist Dale Fielder’s combo, is an able and inspired pianist, but was unable to deliver a consistently personal message of the sort developed by his boss.

One can’t help but think that if McPherson were 30 years younger, he’d have a major-label record deal (as it is, he records for the small, classically oriented label Arabesque). But then he wouldn’t have had the time and experience to develop his exceptional voice.