Elvin Jones Offers a Master Class in Drums at Knitting Factory

Opportunities to see and hear jazz icons don’t exactly turn up every day. And the chance to experience one of these highly regarded figures in action, still functioning at peak power levels, is even more uncommon.

But that’s precisely what occurred Thursday night at the Knitting Factory in the performance of the Elvin Jones Quintet. A vital jazz force since the early ‘60s, when he played a central role in the groundbreaking work of the John Coltrane Quartet, Jones has been one of the primary models for most of the drummers who have come to maturity in the past 3 1/2 decades.

What Jones had to offer at the Knitting Factory, however, was a fascinating display of what many young drummers have tended to overlook: that it is possible to balance temblor-level percussion with quieter sounds, to use surges and climaxes at the service of the musical flow rather than as a self-focused expression of personal virtuosity. Jones’ drumming sometimes sounded like a force of nature, as inevitable as hurricane-force winds in the Southeast, but it was always intrinsic to the overall musical content.

In the few extended numbers that made up the program--pianist Eric Lewis’ “Monk,” trombonist Delfeayo Marsalis’ “The Lone Warrior,” Duke Ellington’s “It Don’t Mean a Thing” and the standard “You Don’t Know What Love Is”--Jones consistently used his drumming to add phrasing and exclamation points. Smiling, grunting, in visual as well as aural contact with his players, he was the perfect leader, blazing the path where necessary, moving the music forward with support, definition and direction.

Jones’ efforts provided both settings and stimuli for his players to stretch out, to find their own expressive modalities. And each responded well. Bassist David Pulphus was the solid, foundational undercurrent for Jones’ percussion; tenor and soprano saxophonist Ari Brown offered a series of consistently swinging solos, and Marsalis was an articulate and imaginative improviser.

Lewis was an even greater standout, calling up images of Thelonious Monk in the appropriately titled “Monk” and demonstrating impressive stride piano skills in “It Don’t Mean a Thing.”

Given the high quality of the performance, the excellence of the sound and the full-house turnout, one thought kept recurring: Why is the Knitting Factory--despite the strong connection with jazz in its New York City venue--bringing so few jazz performers to a room that seems tailor-made for the music?