Saxophonist David Liebman and pianist Richie Beirach have been working together at least since 1973, in the band Lookout Farm. Later they reteamed in the band Quest, and have had many duo collaborations as well. Fortunately for New Yorkers, the Brooklyn-born friends have in recent years made it a habit to get back together for a concert every February. Though that has usually been in the form of Quest, this year it was a duo at this intimate and much-loved Greenwich Village venue.
They opened with “Pendulum,” a Beirach tune they’ve been playing together for decades in various contexts. Nonetheless, like everything they played tonight, it sounded fresh. Beirach opened with tight dissonances over a bass drone; Liebman entered (on tenor sax) freely, then went into the theme. One of the pleasures of Beirach’s style is how fully he has assimilated so many aspects of older pianists alongside his own highly original conception. Every once in a while, a bit of influence will suddenly, and usually briefly, peek out; an example was heard when, amid Beirach’s quicksilver shifts, some of McCoy Tyner’s chording and right-hand melodic style glinted brightly for a moment before Liebman dropped out and Beirach built a long solo. It started by looking back to the opening, creeping darkly; it brightened, then thickened, then shifted into a bit of two-part counterpoint that suggested a transmuted Bach Invention, and finally ascending chords over which his right-hand lines flew upward. Liebman re-entered over quietly solemn chords; then the duo improvised some slowly intertwining melodies. After that, contrary motion in the piano supported the sax’s spirals and squeals. Beirach then set up a ground that went into modal chords over a shifting drone, and the rhythm thinned out to bring “Pendulum” to an apt close.
Liebman’s Miles Davis portrait “M.D.,” a composition from that 1973 Lookout Farm session, followed. Beirach opened alone with delicate figurations suggesting a darker sort of Impressionism shading into Expressionism, with a slight motivic touch of Thelonious Monk’s “’Round Midnight,” which Davis so famously reworked as “’Round About Midnight.” Amid the pastel harmonies, Beirach added some string plucking by reaching into the grand’s innards. Sideways-leaning harmonies descended by half-step movement into a flurry of motion; it was turning into quite a long solo introduction. Finally Liebman entered, playing a small, wooden flute as Beirach’s playing returned to its earlier delicacy. This was not the sort of flute you’d hear from a conservatory; this was gently earthy yet edgy, relating to ancient folk traditions from around the world that emphasize microtonal inflection and variety of intonation. When Liebman switched to tenor sax, he kept his playing light for the transition, then thickened the textures with a more robustly passionate tone over more half-step-moving harmonies. The piece climaxed with some pounding chords that led to simultaneous flurries from both players; then Liebman played the melody as Beirach decorated it with flamboyant upward runs.
Comparison to “’Round About Midnight” could immediately be made by the audience, as the duo played it next, with Liebman on soprano sax. A wild Beirach intro let into the sparer but still heavily accented theme and chording, with Liebman’s idiosyncratic phrasing giving the familiar tune a whimsical bent before heading into some swinging improvisation that found the saxman agile and virtuosic. After a sweet restatement of a fragment of the theme, Beirach soloed, peaking in a densely atonal frenzy before a kaleidoscopic reharmonization of the theme. Then he dropped out, and Liebman took off without accompaniment. Well, almost without accompaniment; it seemed like Beirach was holding down the sustain pedal to let Liebman’s notes resonate on the piano’s strings, a beautiful effect. Beirach returned for a brief ending.
Beirach’s arrangement and reharmonization of Scriabin’s Prelude, Op. 16 No. 4 (a piece, he noted, that friend and influence Bill Evans used to play) turned that solo piano piece into a thoroughly effective duo of touching simplicity, especially in comparison to the complexity of the duo’s other work. This relatively concise outing was followed by another short episode, but on the opposite end of the spectrum as they created a spontaneous free improvisation. Liebman started it solo on tenor sax; Beirach soon joined in. The pianist’s long solo reminded me somewhat of Mal Waldron’s melodic style and strumming-like chording. When Liebman re-entered, he moved to the fore as Beirach established a ground for him to play over and eventually switched to stop-time chords as the improvisation came to a close.
Liebman’s “Napanoch,” another Lookout Farm theme, closed out the first set, with the composer returning to soprano sax. The piece was sparely textured, with use of silence lending a suspenseful atmosphere; Beirach contrasted pedaled and staccato passages. The players slipped into a twittering communion in the upper reaches of their instruments; textures became slightly denser before they returned to the theme. A playful improvisatory coda gave one more example of how their spontaneous interaction is a joy to them and us.