It’s been three years since Burton Greene’s (1937, Chicago, IL) last CIMP recording (#182) and during that time some of his revolutionary work (Free Form Improvisation Ensemble) from the early ‘60s has been discovered and issued (Cadence Jazz Records); he’s continued to document his Klezmokum group (BVHaast); his autobiography Memoirs of a Musical Pesty Mystic has been published (Cadence Jazz Books) and, overall, his presence has begun to, once more, be a bit more visible in North America. Through it all Burton continues to be Burton, an individual uniquely complicated but capable of producing very engaging music.
Over the years, Burton’s broad acceptance of music-without-boundaries has led to a broadly diverse discography encompassing many genres including electronic, eastern, and free form. His diversity has also created less than fixed images in the minds of creative improvised music listeners. Ask a random sample of people and most will suggest a variety of opinions as they reflect on the various periods and genres in which he has been associated. I’ve been following Burton’s career from the beginning and his mid 1960’s ESP recordings and, while over the years I have found varying interest in some of his musical adventures, the force of his musical personality always kept me interested in what he was doing. In producing Burton’s first CIMP, I was adamant in trying to get Burton to focus in the genre at which he arguably succeeds best: Jazz in its broadest sense. I’m sure I was obsessive to the point of tedium but, for whatever reason, I think he produced (with Wilber Morris [bass] and Lou Grassi [drums]) perhaps his finest Jazz work up to that point with a concert as complex as it is engaging.
When I was discussing Burton’s next CIMP with him, I found in myself an amusing contradiction (after all my obsessing about a certain focus) in that one of my first comments was that I didn’t want to re-create what we had already successfully accomplished, that we should do something different. Burton tried to figure this out while staying true to his muse and together we agreed on a duo outing. We discussed various instruments (sax, drums, etc.) and settled on bass. Burton then suggested Mark Dresser (1952, Los Angeles, CA), a musical force in his own right and a player that suggested an intriguing combination and juxtaposition of personalities and strengths.
We arrived at Gilbert Hall around noon on a clear 82°F and humid day. Burton resolved some angst by declaring the piano “a wonderful ax, the kind that speaks to you ‘come play me’.” By 1 p.m., we were into the concert/session, inspiration connecting first with Burton’s Digitalville, a performance that clearly shows the connectedness between Mark and Burton.
South Florida Summer Odyssey followed: a minor narrative, impressionistic and with heightened moments of tension and sensuality, and always with an underlying spirituality. Following a break, the session continued with Mark’s Give Blood, Give Love a brooding journey, abstractly gothic and episodic.
Take one of One for Burton seemed to be a bit disengaged and a discussion brought out that Mark was having some trouble with his sound, its relationship to Burton’s playing, what he was hearing and how that affected his attack on the bass. About 30 minutes of rearranging, positioning and adjusting followed and, with it, a renewed engagement in the music and two more strong takes on One for Burton.
For Bass and Piano Strings Orch. Burton moved inside the piano and the music moved outside for a realigning improv. On this free improv you can experience the intuitive and creative use of space and construction Mark and Burton work with, a nice sharing of development to create the whole.
By around 4 p.m. the session moved into the finale with Gnat Dance, a distinctly Burtonesque composition; its title, Burton said, was in tribute to the persistence of the bugs that seemed to so vex him the night before when we took a short hike; critters can scope out the tenderness of the urbanites with uncanny ease. Following that came another kind of sentiment in Burton’s ballad Peace Beyond Conflict. Originally this was run through with Mark, but Burton seemed to be so personally in his own space that Mark and I suggested that he address it solo. It was a nice reflective moment near the end of the session. It moved us all and inspired Mark to suggest what I was thinking, that the tune also be played in duo. Mark’s words: “I really want to play this tune.” I’m never prepared for the rush that inevitably happens at these sessions. Included here are both takes; same composition, different views.
The exposition of the material ended with After-Gnat, a little fantasy from the minds of Burton & Mark. After this, some time was spent revisiting and playing around with Monk’s Shuffle Boil, a nice case of heightened release.
The session was over, the music in the air, the recital corralled on disk and ready for your listening attention at any moment’s notice. Some music!
Robert D. Rusch - July 19, 2001
