Taking a decidedly retro route

Tenor saxophonist Ernie Krivda’s arrival on stage Wednesday at Catalina Bar & Grill conjured the feeling of a page from Proust’s “Remembrance of Things Past.” Wearing a dapper black fedora, garbed in sharp-looking black jacket, tie and fawn-colored pants, he was the very image of the Rat Pack-influenced ‘50s and early-’60s. (Or maybe that’s still the jazz musician uniform of choice in his hometown of Cleveland.)

The retro look of the evening, for which even the back-up band of local players -- guitarist Frank Potenza, organ player Joe Bagg and drummer Paul Kreibich -- wore rarely seen neckties, was mirrored by much of Krivda’s music.

Although he matured in the mid-’60s at a time when bebop, hard bop and avant-garde ruled, much of his phrasing, harmonic choices and rhythmic accents recalled the styles of such post-swing, pre-bop players as Don Byas and Flip Phillips.

Opening the set with a long, simmering cadenza, Krivda, whose relatively low national visibility hasn’t diminished the enthusiasm of the critical reviews he’s received, immediately demonstrated the big tone, fast fingers and fertile improvisational imagination that are the heart of his playing.

Whether he was playing ballads such as “I Can’t Get Started” or old rhythm standards such as “On a Slow Boat to China,” his approach was both intense and musically productive -- long, uninterrupted streams of eighth notes filled with unexpected but always fascinating, melodic twists and turns.

Other tunes -- his in-the-groove tribute to a local Cleveland hangout, “Irv’s at Midnight,” and a Latin-tinged rendering of “I’ll Remember April” -- underscored the evening’s odd combination of sights and sounds. Despite the effort to transform the one-nighter into an event (the passageway from the garage to the club’s door was set up with a red carpet, a video camera and a blond interviewer -- although it wasn’t clear whether any celebrities arrived to be interviewed), the music was perfectly capable of standing on its own.

At its best, Krivda’s playing was a strikingly contemporary transformation of a decades-old jazz style. And, during a period in which the influence of John Coltrane and Michael Brecker is heard far too prevalently throughout the land, it was a welcome gust of fresh musical air. Krivda really needs to get out of Cleveland a little more often.