The double bass is a perennial fixture of many jazz combos. And yet, how rare to hear it on its own terms. Rarer still in duet with a like partner. The Cornell Concert Series kicked off its spring season by proving that a duo of basses could be more than meets the ear. As twin ramparts of their generation, Christian McBride and Edgar Meyer are as masterful as they come. Where one cut his teeth on the jagged edges of jazz, the other was baptized in classical waters. Yet, both have eroded the boundaries of their chosen genres in mutual respect. This respect was nowhere so evident as in Bailey Hall on Friday, where they conversed as friends and allies do: without judgment or fear.
McBride and Meyer evoked a symbiotic relationship on stage. The combinatory powers of their artistries spanned the gamut. On the technical front, Meyer carried a resonant tone and perfect pitch throughout, as emphasized by his mellifluous bowing. McBride, meanwhile, drew a z-axis straight into the audience, going playfully off pitch as only a seasoned jazzman can, to emphasize flexibility of every note. In short: Meyer sang and McBride spoke.
This dynamic held true whether the duo was navigating the well-trodden landscapes of standards like “My Funny Valentine” and “Days of Wine and Roses,” or escorting listeners along far-less-traveled compositions between them. The concert opened in the latter vein with Meyer’s own “Green Slime,” a decidedly funky jaunt bearing all the benchmarks of either musician’s idiosyncrasies. McBride’s “Lullaby for a Ladybug” later revealed a softer side, and for it the composer played at the piano, by which he clothed its childlike whimsy in the tender skin of balladry. And their jointly written “Bass Duet #1,” a blues with postmodern touches.
The reigning highlights of the program were both solo pieces. Meyer performed an untitled composition for bass alone, which danced like a Hindemith viola sonata in its legato turns. McBride, for his part, treated us with a solo rendition of “Fly Me to the Moon” that was as acrobatic as it was insightful. Although McBride played it all-pizzicato, he too is an adept wielder of the bow and his gloss of “Bewitched, Bothered & Bewildered” was even more heartfelt.
A double-dip into the Miles Davis songbook yielded fresh versions of “Solar” and “All Blues” (the concert’s encore), while another into rural waters came up with a downright orchestral arrangement of Bill Monroe’s “Tennessee Blues” and the frantic virtuosity of Meyer’s aptly titled “Barnyard Disturbance.” The musicians’ free-spirited approach served the authenticity of these tunes and made for an inspiring evening. Like Meyer’s “F.R.B.,” which paid homage to the late, great Ray Brown, their love for each other, for the music and for all who inspired them was the most engaging melody of all.
Tyran Grillo is a graduate student at Cornell University. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org