Dominic Duval & Jimmy Halperin - Monkinus

CIMP 348

In his notes to this new CIMP, saxophonist Jimmy Halperin admits to a long-standing conscious avoidance of Monk. It’s a startling confession for a jazz musician and one at odds with the purpose of the project, namely, in bassist Dominic Duval’s words: “to record as many of Monk’s works as time would allow in a single CD.” Halperin goes on to couch Monk’s compositions as quirky and it’s a curious case of the pot calling the kettle. These offhand musings fold right into the overarching ethos of the program, a pianoless recital of tenor and bass that sprints through a baker’s dozen of maestro’s better-known tunes.

Halperin’s toast dry tenor is about as capricious as they come. His embouchure fluctuates from teeth clenching to jowl drooping in the service of a Crayola box full of tonal colors. Interpolations abound; trills, flutters and jittery scalar drops regularly materializing to keep things continuously off balance. Plotting Halperin’s path through a piece in advance is like tracking a hummingbird in a hurricane. The arcane workings of his improvisatory mind reveal themselves in the moment through the serpentine lines that spill from his horn. Playful overtones pepper parts of “Blue Monk.” “Ruby My Dear” coalesces out of a ping-pong volley of low and high-pitched notes. “Criss Cross” finds Halperin playing rhythm to Duval’s lead, injecting murmury accents that are pure Thelonious in mettle and effect. Keypad patter is another recurring element in the action as Halperin modulates to the point of near-parody. Even what seems at first like a relatively straight rendering of “Rhythm-a-ning” is quickly distinguished by detours into funky unpredictability.

Duval isn’t quite so relentlessly perspicacious as his partner and his stout fingers occasionally falter during the more Gordian moments, but he largely keeps pace and his elastic, but fundamentally linear style is an effective ballast to his partners more audacious maneuverings. There’s not a bit of bow to speak of either- perhaps a byproduct of Duval’s CT String Quartet the day prior- but that’s not a bad thing considering the callus-cracking energy of much of the interplay. Even more relaxed pieces like “’Round Midnight” and “Misterioso” have a vague air of aggression about them with the pair coloring outside the lines to fine, vertigo-inducing effect. With, and perhaps more accurately because of, the liberties taken, Monk’s mien shines with the brilliance of a klieg light cluster throughout these improvisations. The disc runs to a generous 70+ minutes, but I can’t help feeling hungry for more after each spin.

~ Derek Taylor