Chris Morrissey Quartet at the Artists' Quarter: Concert review

When: August 1 2009 • Where: Artists’ Quarter • Who: Chris Morrissey, bass; Michael Lewis, saxophones; Bryan Nichols, piano; Dave King, drums

Because I don’t follow indie rock, I don’t know Chris Morrissey the indie rocker, whose bands include Ben Kweller, Mason Jennings, the Bill-Mike Band, Wishbook (formerly Cowboy Curtis), and Haley Bonar. I first heard of Chris Morrissey the jazz musician/composer last July when HH and I went to Maude because Dave King was playing there with Chris Thomson, Bryan Nichols, and some guy named Chris Morrissey. Who turned out to be a tall, rather thin young man with long, elegant fingers who plays the bass like he’s serious about jazz. In fact, he calls jazz his “original passion.”

Back then the quartet was in the midst of recording a CD, and this weekend was the official Minneapolis/St. Paul CD release for The Morning World, just out on Sunnyside, not too shabby. Morrissey is from here, recently moved to NYC to “get another city under his belt,” came home to launch his CD and promises to return one day to live. We’ll see.

At the crowded AQ, we hear originals by Morrissey and just one standard. Something slow and measured to start; probably “The Skinny Part of Idaho.” “Midland Picnic Area,” which Morrissey introduces as “a tribute to a part of the country without a lot of songs written about it," is a high-energy piece that Nichols takes even higher with his piano solo, after which Lewis plays like a man possessed and King is two drummers or maybe three, and suddenly the air sparks and crackles with swing.

“The Morning World Is Waiting,” the title track, pulls the tempo back again so everyone can breathe. It’s a bright-eyed ballad, pretty and sweet.

The tunes are on the short side, like pop songs. The melodies aren’t familiar so it’s easy to think there’s a lot of improvising going on amid skeletal composition until you notice that Morrissey and Nichols, or Lewis and Nichols, are playing long runs of notes in unison. The music is tightly composed, compact, intricate, with room for invention.

“October Aught Four” starts off unhurried and thoughtful, then picks up speed and intensity. It feels sunny, optimistic. “Electric Blanket” is full of big chords and brand-new. “We learned it yesterday and played the world premiere” [at last night’s AQ show], Morrissey says. “This is the second world premiere.”

He introduces “The Curious Habits of Harold Hill” by telling us that he played the part of Winthrop in the Chanhassen Dinner Theater’s production of The Music Man “when I was young.” (Everyone laughs; he’s 28.) His father was Chanhassen’s music director. The tune is layers of repeated rhythm—first in eight pairs (da-da, da-da), then six—over which Lewis’s saxophone floats and soars. Most tunes seem to feature the saxophone, though that could be an illusion caused by the fact that Nichols, Morrissey, and King all stay in the same place while Lewis paces the rest of the stage, always on the move, so that’s where your eyes naturally go.

[Aside: While King is playing with the Morrissey Quartet at the AQ, the other two members of his band The Bad Plus are at the Village Vanguard, with Paul Motian on drums. Read Nate Chinen's review here.]

For “None is the Number,” Lewis starts on soprano sax (he plays soprano, alto, and tenor tonight) and Morrissey takes his first solo on the bass, accompanied by Nichols. This is the only tune of the night that sounds heavily influenced by Reid Anderson of The Bad Plus, not that I’m complaining.

Introducing “Mountain Don’t,” Morrissey tells us a story from his childhood, when he looked up to Lewis as the coolest guy he knew. (The two grew up together; their moms are friends and both are in the house tonight.) Trying to impress Lewis, Morrissey told him he drank Mountain Dew. Lewis replied “Mountain don’t, man,” and a song was born. “I wrote it ten years ago,” Morrissey says. Not bad for 18. The first half swings hard, Morrissey takes another solo, then there’s a sudden shift into a slow, thoughtful mood, as if another tune has been grafted on. Nichols spells out an old-fashioned melody, Morrissey bows his bass, King switches to brushes and now it’s something Bill Carrothers might play. (Carrothers, as it happens, is sitting at the bar.)

“The Sub Prime Sword Claims Another,” sharp and angular, gives way to “Take the Coltrane,” the one standard of the evening. Everyone stretches out in a lengthy solo—including King, in his first solo of the night—and it’s as jazzy as anything ever has been.

[For City Pages, Andrea Swensson wrote: "What blew me away at Saturday night's show was how each of the four players' talents were showcased without ever drawing too much attention toward one musician... Because of this, Morrissey's compositions themselves became the star of the show." What she said.]

“If Rushmore Should Fall” is the last tune on the CD and the end of the show. Starting out gloomy-doomy on arco bass and piano chords, with Lewis playing questions on the saxophone, it picks up speed and volume, has second thoughts, and sighs. Called back for an encore, Morrissey says, “That’s all the songs we know.”

There's a feeling all night that we're hearing something special and new, something that can go places. It's hard to make a full-time commitment to jazz these days, especially when, like Morrissey (and now Lewis, who has been playing with Andrew Bird), you're in demand by rock bands that draw bigger crowds and paychecks and can tour. So it's understandable that Morrissey is playing this Saturday (at Tiffany's in St. Paul) with Wishbook and the Bill-Mike Band, and will soon go out again with Kweller and then Jennings.

But I hope The Morning World isn't a one-off. Jazz needs people like Morrissey, who can move between genres with confidence and sincerity, commitment and joy, without compromising.

Photos by John Whiting. T to B: Morrissey, Lewis and Morrissey, Nichols, King

That Maude thing

So last night, after my son's wedding reception, we stop by Cafe Maude late for a burger and some vitamin M. Fat Kid Wednesdays (Michael Lewis, Adam Linz, JT Bates) were originally slated to play, but we already knew that JT would not be there and Jay Epstein would be (the reason: JT was called to A Prairie Home Companion, where he often plays with the Guy's All-Star Shoe Band, something we didn't know until last night). We're more than ready for Lewis's tenor sax and Linz's bass and the always surprising drums of Epstein.

What we get is a quintet, with Bryan Nichols on piano and Greg Lewis on trumpet. Greg is Mike's dad, a musician for more than 30 years, but I have never heard him play, and he rarely plays with Michael.

We arrive in time for Ornette Coleman's "Lonely Woman," during which the famously chatty crowd at Maude actually quiets down to listen. Also in the house: saxophonists Scott Fultz and Chris Thomson, trumpeter John Raymond, bassists Matt Peterson and Graydon Peterson. Michael's mom, Mary, is there, too--I don't think I've ever heard Michael play in any of his many bands without seeing her in the audience, which says a lot for both of them. Later we talk and she recalls the days when Michael was a boy and he and his father would listen to music and play for hours.

On the way out, we pass Michael and Greg chatting on the patio. "I love you, Dad," Michael says. "Let's do this again."

Fat Kid Wednesdays + Buckley

When: Friday, March 13, 2009 • Where: Café Maude • Who: Fat Kid Wednesdays: Michael Lewis, saxes; Adam Linz, bass; J.T. Bates, drums

I’m liking Maude more and more. Owner Kevin Sheehy is committed to keeping the music going, the food good, the art fresh. It’s a too-loud crowd for the music but these days the operative word is “crowd.” And somehow it has become a place that gets away with presenting real music, often cutting-edge music, where no one seems to be listening.

It doesn't seem that the musicians who play there are gritting their teeth and putting up with it just because it’s a gig. They like Maude, too. Plus other musicians regularly show up to see their friends play. Tonight it’s bassist/composer James Buckley, who sits in for Linz for a couple of tunes near the end of the last set. I know about Buckley and hear about him often but have never seen him play—the timing has never worked out—so this is a first.



FKW is fine tonight. They give their usual nod to the Shaggs with “That Little Sportscar,” which Don Berryman caught on video when they played it at the AQ in January.



But most of the night is mellow—ballads and standards. Lewis’s mom Mary is here and he’s making her happy. Vince Mendoza’s “Ambivalence.” “Makin’ Whoopie.” The killer closer, “In a Sentimental Mood.” I won’t say FKW “deconstructs” the standards—the melodies and rhythms are still strong—but they do stretch them, bend them, reshape them.



Although Lewis is best known for his out-there saxophone antics (and, more recently, for playing electric bass with Andrew Bird), he is a superb player of standards, with a meltingly, heartbreakingly beautiful tone. We’re all googly-eyed during “Sentimental Mood.”

What a great band. Why everyone doesn’t come out to hear them every time they play is a mystery. Mary tells us they have played together for 15 years—half their lives. That’s probably how they make it look so easy.



Hear more FKW on MySpace.
Buckley is finishing up a CD with his trio (Bryan Nichols on keyboard/piano, J.T. on drums) and posting tracks on MySpace.

Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Lewis, Buckley, FKW, Linz.

Jazz jam, with Wynton

When: Saturday, March 7 • Where: Dakota

The Dakota jazz club and Orchestra Hall, home of the Minnesota Orchestra, have been in close geographical proximity since the Dakota moved from St. Paul to Minneapolis in late 2003, but they never had a relationship until Lilly Schwartz became the Orchestra’s director of pops and special projects. Ever since, artists performing at Orchestra Hall have made their way to the Dakota after shows to dine in the club’s restaurant and sometimes perform on its stage. So when the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra came to town, it was a given that at least some of the band members would stop by on Friday or Saturday, maybe both. And it was hoped that some of them would jam with the excellent trio hired for the late-night shows: pianist Bryan Nichols, bassist Adam Linz, drummer J.T. Bates.

We weren’t able to go to the late-night on Friday but heard later that trumpeter Sean Jones and other JLCO members performed—and that a local musician had engaged Jones in a cutting contest. As they say, poor bastard, and I don’t mean Jones.

We were there on Saturday and it was one for the jazz history books. We knew when Wynton Marsalis came into the club—everyone knew—but didn’t expect him to play. Then he stepped on stage and joined Nichols, Linz, and Bates for the first tune. When he stepped down, we thought that was all we would hear from him. More JLCO members played—bassist Carlos Henriquez, drummer Ali Jackson, trumpeters Freddie Hendrix and Ryan Kisor. Then the trio took a break, after which Marsalis returned with his own trio: pianist Dan Nimmer, Henriquez, Jackson.



For the next 20 minutes or so, the Dakota was the Village Vanguard, Blues Alley, and the House of Tribes. By now it was SRO—word had gotten out—and it was thrilling to be there. The last time Marsalis played a small club in the Twin Cities was October 2003, at the now-defunct Brilliant Corners in St. Paul. Tickets were $45. The Dakota charges $5 for its late-night sets. People who walked in off the street on Saturday out of curiosity, or because they had heard the Dakota had a late-night scene and wanted to check it out, got more than a bargain. They got a once-in-a-lifetime experience.

When the quartet finished, the jam didn’t end. Saxophonist Michael Lewis, home on break from his tour with Andrew Bird, came through the curtain and played a tune; so did saxophonist Chris Thomson. Drummer Kevin Washington took over for J.T. toward the end and filled the air with thunder. Marsalis stood by the side of the stage, nodding and smiling.



See also my Arts Arena post on MinnPost.com.
Photos by John Whiting. Top to bottom: Wynton Marsalis; Nimmer, Henriquez, Marsalis, Jackson; Nichols, Linz, Lewis, Washington, Thomson.

P.S. I asked Jeremy Walker, former proprietor of Brilliant Corners, what Marsalis and his group played during their set. His answer: "I believe it is a suite of tunes called 'The Magic Hour.' I know he played some of the material at Brilliant Corners way back when. If I remember right, it is a suite about getting the kids to bed so you can have quiet time with the special person in your life."

Fat Kid Wednesdays at the Clown

When: Monday, September 1, 2008 • Where: Clown Lounge • Who: Fat Kid Wednesdays: Michael Lewis, saxophone; Adam Linz, bass; JT Bates, drums

Located downstairs from the Turf Club on University Avenue, the Clown Lounge is a center for improvisational music. During an interview earlier this year, Kelly Rossum said, "The Clown is a big deal. Out of all the clubs in the Twin Cities, it's the most consistently high quality music, week by week, month by month, year by year."



It's a pretty full house for Labor Day, mostly young white guys who are there to listen, including other musicians: Chris Morrissey, Bryan Nichols. Linz smacks his bass and pulls at the strings, Lewis paces (I wonder what he does on a shallow stage? Fall off?), JT rolls a ball around on top of his big floor tom. Lewis plays the same note over and over again, supporting Linz's solo; JT looks like he's trying to dig a hole in his snare with his sticks, or start a fire. At one point he seems to be playing goat toenails in a handkerchief.



Let me not give the impression the Kids are playing around. This is wholly engaging music, sometimes teetering on an edge but more often melodic and beautiful. During "Dewey's Tune," JT gives us a gorgeous drum solo. Lewis's tone is tender and sweet. Linz makes his instrument sing.

Words come into my head as I listen, and images, and this phrase, which repeats like a chorus: Jazz is contagious. Where did that come from? I don't know but it's the truth.



When we last saw Fat Kid at Cafe Maude, they played a tune by the Shaggs. I'm hoping they will again and they do: "That Little Sports Car."

Note to self: Get to the Clown more often.

Photos by John Whiting.

Hats for Cats: Michael Lewis and his mom

Michael Lewis plays the saxophone like no one else I've seen or heard. I've seen him perform live many times—with Happy Apple, Fat Kid Wednesdays, in various other configurations around town at the AQ, Cafe Maude, and more. At Fat Kid's performance with the Moroccan group B'net Houariyat during the 2006 Minnesota Sur Seine music festival, his hat kept falling down over his eyes while he played. He'd push it up during split-second breaks between flurries of notes, but would fall again when he moved, and he moves a lot.

It made me itch. It made me squirm. It made me want to make him a hat. So when I saw him at Maude in early January, standing outside smoking during a break, I offered and he said yes. His mom Mary was there so I made one for her, too.

More Maude

When: 1/4/08
Where: Cafe Maude
Who: Michael Lewis (saxophone), Anthony Cox (bass), J.T. Bates (drums)

I really like Maude on Friday nights. It's open late, it's in my neighborhood, and the music is the kind that makes you do the Jon Stewart Headshake of Pure Amazement, where he flaps his lips and cheeks and goes "Huh?" I mean, seriously: Lewis, Cox, and Bates playing in a restaurant? Some people come for the food and end up getting slapped around by the jazz. By now Maude's antics are well enough known that others come because of the music. Tonight Lucia Newell wanders in, and James Buckley, and Scott Anderson, the manager of the Dakota, and Bryan Aaker, staff photographer for the Cedar Cultural Center. We sit with Mike's mom, Mary. I recognize some of the music but the only standard the trio plays (as far as I can tell) is "Alone Together," and I'm reminded that as much as Lewis blows sparks and fire, he can also play ballads that will break your heart.

Photo, L to R: Cox, Bates, Lewis. Taken with a flash near the end of the evening; it is not that bright in the restaurant.

P.S. Michael Lewis is next on my handmade hats list. Chris Bates, I need your cranial stats if you want a hat before the spring thaw.

Cafe Maude: Unlikely venue offers serious jazz on menu

Originally published on MinnPost.com, January 4, 2008

On a Friday night in early December, I stood at the bar at Café Maude waiting for a table. People were crammed three-deep around it, clutching their cocktails and jostling each other and eyeing those lucky enough to be seated.

Across the room on a small stage beneath a large painting by local artist Stuart Loughridge, two musicians were playing some serious jazz. I could barely hear them through the din. They weren't just any two musicians or the kind whose names you'd normally read on a restaurant chalkboard.

By the time we scored a table, the crowd had thinned enough that we could follow Michael Lewis on the tenor saxophone and pianist Bryan Nichols in their complex, rhythmic dance of melody and improvisation.

Lewis's other bands include Happy Apple and Fat Kid Wednesdays, among the most innovative jazz groups around. Nichols teaches at MacPhail, has performed at the Kennedy Center and is part of Kelly Rossum's working quartet. Neither is background music material. And their performance was about as far from smooth jazz as you can get without a passport.

Jazz on the menu

Since the doors opened last summer at this hot new bistro in southwest Minneapolis, owner Kevin Sheehy has been committed to serving good music along with very good food. Stroll in almost any night and you'll hear something interesting: music played or selected by DJ Howard Hamilton III, international music, experimental music, solo piano, soul-dub-Afro-beat.

But Fridays belong to jazz, and the lineup so far has been stellar: Lewis and Nichols, Adam Linz, Alden Ikeda, Chris Thomson, Dean Granros, James Buckley, Park Evans, Chris Bates, J.T. Bates, Anthony Cox, Gordy Johnson, Laura Caviani, Joey Van Phillips, Peter Schimke, and other top area talent who also play the Artists' Quarter, the Dakota, the Cedar and the Clown Lounge. Even Kenny Horst, who owns the Artists' Quarter and rarely plays elsewhere, packed up his drums and brought them to Maude.

As well as drawing hordes of diners, Maude has become a musicians' hang. After Matt Wilson and his Carl Sandburg Project performed recently at the Minnesota Opera Center, everyone went to Maude. Nichols and drummer Jay Epstein were already there, listening to the Enormous Quartet (Thomson, Evans, Bates, Van Phillips). Dave King and Reid Anderson of the Bad Plus showed up for a party on the Sunday after Christmas.

The woman behind the programming

The demographic on stage tends to be young and cutting-edge; at the booths and tables, it's more conservative and better heeled. Which is precisely the mix Sheehy and music programmer "Maude" have in mind. "Maude" prefers to keep her real name anonymous so that she isn't inundated with requests for bookings. She had such interesting things to say about how she works that I agreed to let her keep her anonymity.

People may come to Café Maude for the crab cakes, roasted corn chowder and quail with squash cheddar gratin, but they'll also get an earful of sounds that push the boundaries of what they're used to.

Some may find this uncomfortable. Others feel happy without knowing why. "Our mission is a bit subversive," says "Maude." "We're bringing strange music to a fairly straight crowd. This is our way of inspiring people."

It's entertainment, but it's also an education, she says. "When musicians give you something you haven't heard before, it makes your ear stronger for the future."

For a new restaurant to do a build-out, hire a creative and experienced chef, develop a menu that consistently wins raves, staff up, and win a liquor license in a neighborhood that initially opposed it, live music may seem like reckless splurge.

"Obviously it's one of those expenses we could cut," Sheehy says, "like our flower budget or some other thing if we were desperate, but thank God we're not. We'll do it as long as I can afford it."

Between now and April, during which Sheehy and "Maude" will both be traveling, the roster will feature artists that regulars have come to know: Tasha Baron and Liz Draper, Van Phillips, Lewis, a night with Linz and Ikeda and Tommy O'Donnell, an evening with Granros and Schimke.

Call in advance to get a reservation, or take your chances and just drop by. To avoid the biggest, noisiest crush, arrive late; the kitchen stays open until midnight, and last call is 11:50 p.m. The music lasts until midnight, too. "It's free," Sheehy says. "Come and see it."

What: Jazz on Fridays
Where: Café Maude, 5411 Penn Ave. S., Minneapolis
When: 9 p.m. to midnight
How much: No cover
Phone: 612-822-5400
Website

Upcoming picks

Bill Carrothers' "Armistice 1918" Band U.S. premiere: A native son brings home his magnum opus and French Grammy winner for two complete performances. The Artists' Quarter, 9 p.m. Friday, Jan. 4, and Saturday, Jan. 5 ($15). Read a preview on MinnPost, "First must-see of 2008: Bill Carrothers' 'Armistice 1918'"

J.J. and Beyond: Celebrating the Trombone: You can't have too much brass on one stage. Michael Nelson and Dave Graf celebrate the works and artistry of legendary trombonists, accompanied by Locally Damaging Winds, a jazz trombone ensemble led by Brad Bellows, and the Mary Louise Knutson Trio. Connie Evingson makes a guest appearance. Co-sponsored by the Twin Cities Jazz Society. Bloomington Center for the Arts, 2 p.m. Sunday, January 6 ($19).

Irv Williams' CD release: For the follow-up to his sublime "Duo" with Peter Schimke, the ageless saxophonist gathered a Who's Who of local greats (Schimke, Gordy Johnson, Kenny Horst, Loren Walstad, Gus Sandberg) and recorded 10 tunes including two originals. He calls it "Finality" but we'll see about that. The Dakota, 7 p.m. Sunday, Jan. 6 ($5).

Happy Apple

When: 12/10/07
Where: The Artists' Quarter
Who: Michael Lewis (saxophones), Erik Fratzke (electric bass), Dave King (drums)

On the final night of a three-day stay at the AQ, Happy Apple was mellow. I often hear Lewis when his horn is on fire, so I sometimes forget he's equally capable of thoughtful, tender, lyrical music and a velvety tone. This wasn't straight-ahead jazz—Happy Apple doesn't go there—but it was beautiful and very accessible.

As always, the show was punctuated by King's between-songs tall tales. Something about royalties earned from Hooters. A fictitious gig with the comedian Gallagher and the Insane Clown Posse. A Who-Can-Hold-the-Longest-Note-on-the-Soprano-Sax competition between Lewis and Kenny G; Kenny G cheated and won.

Their song titles are equally wacky: "Still Life for the Study of Sibling Rivalry," "Lefse Los Cubanos" (King: "A cinematic exploration of the historical union between ancient Scandinavians and the Cuban people—the Scando-Cuban connection—based on 1,000-year-old recordings from the Smithsonian of Vikings jamming with Cubans"), "Freelance Robotics" ("A panorama of a future where artificial intelligence is used for things like painting garages"), "The 1976 Aquatennial Parade," "Calgon for Hetfield" (I'm guessing James Hetfield of Metallica? What's the connection with Calgon? Oh never mind). King introduced "Back on Top," the title track of their latest CD (2007), by explaining "We're back on top of the Worst-Selling Jazz Records list."

Happy Apple has been together for 12 years, and they have their act down. When they play, Lewis throws his whole body into it; when he's not blowing, he paces like a caged cat. His lyrical phrases stitch the music together. Fratzke's big, deep bass provides the supports that allow for Lewis's and King's cantilevered excesses. And King's drum punches holes in everything.

P.S. Dave likes his hat.

Happy Apple on MySpace.

Photo by John Whiting.

Michael Lewis and Bryan Nichols

11/30/07, Cafe Maude: After viewing the train wreck of Chet Baker's life, we went to Cafe Maude in southwest Minneapolis, where owner Kevin Sheehy is serving good food and live music—jazz on Fridays. Michael Lewis (of Fat Kid Wednesdays and Happy Apple) bent over his saxophone, Bryan Nichols made magic on the piano keys, and I had the stickiest bourbon Manhattan of my life, possibly because I asked for cherries. But no one shot heroin, at least not openly, and everyone had a good time. There were seven of us and we had to wait over an hour for a table in the small but packed restaurant, where I hope at least a few people besides us, drummer Alden Ikeda, and Mike Lewis's mom Mary were there for the music as well as the hamburgers, lamb skewers, crab cakes, and fries.

Fat Kid Wednesdays on MySpace.
Happy Apple on MySpace.

Photo of Mike Lewis by John Whiting. Mike is a guy who never sits or stands still for a second, plus this photo captures his jazzy coolness.