Kalaparush (Clarksville, AR, 1936), one of the original AACM voices, has been a professional musician since the early 1960s and has assumed almost legendary status over the years out of a combination of the reverence with which many of the new music veterans speak of him, his underground (literally) work in New York City since the early '80s, and his somewhat elusive nature. All this is compounded by the fact that, in the almost 50 years of his professional work, only a handful of recordings has been issued with him as either leader or sideman. This was Kalaparush's third visit to The Spirit Room and each time has been an occasion for wonderment.

When Kalaparush arrived this time he seemed in better physical shape: less gaunt, better toned, and more animated. Warming up, his tone was more robust but still characteristically off center. I mentioned all this and he noted that he had been able to get his tenor into proper repair. And he was excited about this group: Ravish Momin (Hyderabad, India, 1973), an emerging percussionist who has recorded an ambitious debut on Sachimay, and Jesse Dulman (New York City, NY, 1981) who essentially is making his first recording in this genre.

This group is a study in contrasts. They seem to be running on different rhythms but tied together by some unseen but common coordination. Actually, to watch them play is a bit disconcerting in that it presents a picture of uncoordinated physicality which seems almost comically absurd. And there is a contrasting tenderness and humor laced with a prevailing sadness to this music that is both puzzling and appealing.

There is a real sense of tension to this music, inherent in both its instrumental and compositional designs, and it tends to put a governor on the listener's assumptions and anticipation of its directions. It is the repeated takes/listens that reveal the charms of this music with the optimism juxtaposing the labor of it all. And even though so much about this group – the personality, the instrumentation, the music – seems unlikely, there is an overwhelming charm to it. For me, it is a fascinating experience, one that I will recall fondly. There is much to ponder about this music and from the music.

The session ended with Kalaparush playing the a cappella section on Antoinette, an ode to his wife, followed by a third (and definitive) take on Big John Coltrane – Indian Man; the conclusion to a unique entry in the Kalaparush discography.

Robert D. Rusch - May 30, 2001