Charles Tolliver’s performance at the Barbicana celebration of Max Roach’s centenary, was a night of two halves. The first set brought the energy and precision of a tight jazz ensemble, while the second unleashed the sheer power of an 18-piece big band. Both demonstrated the undiminished brilliance of a musician and bandleader who, decades after playing alongside Jackie McLean and co-founding the boundary-pushing Strata-East Recordsstill has a command and vision for the future of jazz.
With a small group of musicians tightly locked into one another, Tolliver’s band tore through complex arrangements that balanced hard bop intensity with subtle, exploratory flourishes. The rhythm section was muscular and relentless, propelling the music forward, while Tolliver’s trumpet soared and seared, reminding everyone that his sound has lost none of its fire. The compositions were sharp and dynamic; ‘Effi’ from the classic ‘Members, Don’t Git Weary’Tolliver’s own compositional tribute to Roach ‘Grand Max’.
After an interval, the stage expanded, both physically and sonically. Tolliver returned with a full big band, and the room felt charged with expectation. If the first set showcased precision, the second was all about scale and drama. Tolliver, commanding his 18-piece ensemble with theatrical flair, conducted the band through intricate arrangements that built tension and released it in thrilling bursts. His conducting was a performance in itself – full of sharp movements, hand claps and expressions that seemed to draw every ounce of energy from his players. Roach’s ‘Drum Suite’ had Darrell Green the hardest working in drummer in jazz that night, with Tolliver pointing to him for a solo what must have been every two minutes in twenty-minute rendition.
Amid this controlled chaos, Camille Thurman stole the spotlight. Switching effortlessly between vocals and alto saxophone, Thurman’s contributions ranged from soulful, almost operatic vocals to blistering sax solos that cut through the dense arrangements. Whether weaving her way through a ballad while the brilliant Danny Piers runs between keyboards or matching the ferocity of the full band, she brought a vitality that felt essential to the evening’s success.
The contrast between the two sets made for a complete portrait of Tolliver as an artist and a bandleader: one part rooted in the hard bop traditions he helped define, the other lighting those traditions on fire with help from “A Big Band of London’s Finest”. By the end, it was clear that this wasn’t just a tribute to Max Roach but a demonstration of how jazz continues to evolve in the hands of musicians like Tolliver, passing the baton on asGrand Maxdid to him. A fitting homage, and certainly no nostalgia act – it was a living, breathing testament to jazz’s ability to remain thrilling and alive.
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Words: Fraser Johnston
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