Even Redman Can’t Re-Energize a Long Night of Jazz at the Bowl

Toward the end of his set at the Hollywood Bowl Wednesday night, Joshua Redman played a lovely original ballad titled “Neverend.” It was one of the high points of the week’s Lexus Jazz at the Bowl concert, a piece in which his prolific tenor saxophone technique was placed completely at the service of a thoughtful, sensitive improvisation.

It also, unfortunately, could have served as the subtitle for an event that sometimes seemed interminable, stretching from 8 until well past 11 p.m.

If the balance of the evening had encompassed performances with the sensitivity that Redman brought to his program, the lateness of the hour might not have mattered. But by the time he arrived on stage, well after 10 p.m., audience fatigue had already begun to set in. And even the high quality of his improvising--always musically insightful, often passionate--could not prevent the continuing audience departures, which left vast sections of empty seats long before he concluded his presentation.

Redman and his quartet headlined the program with the Michael Brecker Quartet and the Clayton-Hamilton Jazz Orchestra.

Matters had started well with a brisk collection of numbers by the CHJO. The most fascinating was a finely crafted John Clayton arrangement of Thelonious Monk’s “Evidence”--a chart that fully grasped the piece’s humor, colorful harmonies and inherent sense of swing. In the second half of the bill, the ensemble was equally appealing in romps through Bill Holman’s classic arrangement of “Stompin’ at the Savoy” and Clayton’s fun-filled version of “Night Train.”

Regrettably, the usually dependable audio for the orchestra’s performances faltered throughout the evening, most notably by somehow making Jeff Clayton’s vital lead alto sound virtually inaudible in the sound mix.

Nor was the concert improved by Brecker’s far too long set, which was one of the elements that pushed the evening into a late mode. Seemingly unable to express his musical ideas with any sort of conciseness, he generated a torrent of notes, interspersing honks, squeals and multi-phonics for occasional contrast.

At its best, it was a breathtaking example of saxophone virtuosity, and an accurate display of Brecker’s chosen style. But it has to be considered an acquired taste, most attractive to those who view jazz as an art in which aggressive technique takes precedence over subtle, multilayered musical expression.