JJ 09/64: Andrew Hill – Black Fire

Sixty years ago Michael Shera thought Hill's listenable avant-garde record probably one of the most important albums to appear in five years. First published in Jazz Journal September 1964

331

Eventually, I suppose, it had to happen – there had to be a musician of the avant-garde who was primarily concerned with communicating to his audience, a vital aspect of the jazz musician’s art hitherto very neglected by the ‘new boys’. Which may throw some light on the reasons for the decline in the size of the jazz audience in the States over the past few years – and why Ornette Coleman can’t get work. But a record review is not the place to discuss these problems in detail.

Those of us who are concerned to pre­serve and enlarge a discerning audience for good jazz can take great heart from this record. For Andrew Hill’s advanced rhythmic and harmonic conceptions are never allowed to hinder communication with his listeners. He is an original stylist who acknowledges a debt to Bud Powell, Thelonious Monk and Art Tatum (who doesn’t?). Elements of their playing can be heard from time to time, but the most striking parallel (in terms of phrasing, writing and his melodic lines) seems to be with Herbie Nicholls. (Nicholls was a virtually unrecognised talent – as opposed to being under-rated – who died recently after several years in semi-obscurity).

That Hill is an accomplished writer is shown by his seven themes in this album. They encompass a wide range of moods and rhythms from the turbulent rhythmic complexities of Subterfuge, the charming and unusual waltz Black Fire, and the wryly humorous McNeil’s Island, to al­most nightmarish Land Of Nod. Equally important, Hill has the ability to bring out the best in the other musi­cians, so that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts. Everyone contri­butes to, and is an integral part of, the group performance. Henderson and Davis play far more adventurously than I be­lieved they could.

But the biggest surprise (after Hill, of course) is Roy Haynes. He has always been a superb drummer, but I never thought of him in a ‘new thing’ context. He displays incredible rhythmic flexibility and complexity, but still manages to swing hard. The tension built up by the interplay of Hill’s and Haynes’ rhythms is very exciting.

Perhaps Hill’s work is particularly valuable because it illustrates two things in parti­cular. First, that an advanced rhythmic, harmonic and melodic conception need in no way preclude a musician from communicating – and swinging. Secondly, that an advanced conception need not imply a rejection of the past, but that it can grow out of an understanding of the past.

This is an important album. Probably one of the most important to appear within the last five years.

Discography
(b) Pumpkin; (a) Subterfuge; (b) Black Fire (21 min) – (b) Cantarnos; (a) Tired Trade; (b) McNeil Island; (b) Land Of Nod (20½ min)
(a) Andrew Hill (p); Richard Davis (bs); Roy Haynes (d). Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1963.
(b) Joe Henderson (ten). Same date.
Blue Note BLP 4151 / BST 84151 12inLP 42s. 6d