David Buchbinder – Odessa/Havana

Tzadik

Ethnic music fusions have been the soups de jour of the Downtown Music scene for decades. In that sense, trumpeter David Buchbinder’s collaborations with pianist Hilario Duran as co-composer and bassist Roberto Occhipinti on board as band member and producer aren’t bringing much new to the menu. Neither is their specific blend of Old World and Third World sources sifted through a fine mesh jazz sieve (cf. Marc Ribot, Steve Bernstein, etc.) The nonet assembled for this set features players skilled in all three settings as well as their instruments.

A marketing tagline boasts an “explosive Jewish/Cuban musical mash-up”, but the music exploits the rhythmic and melodic similarities of those styles to produce an amalgam that sounds far less incongruous or combative. The charts of both composers rely on surprisingly lubricious transitions, banking from majestic and melancholic Klezmer themes to percolating island beats and back again. The horns of Buchbinder and multi-reedist Quinsin Nachoff along with violinist Aleksander Gajic usually handle the former elements while a formidable four-prong percussion section covers the latter base, though trade-ups between the two occur on occasion. “Cadiz” is arguably the most seamless example of merging forms, starting out as a somber desert dirge and opening up into a tropically-tinted groove punctuated by solo flourishes. Duran’s piano plants bright chordal pinions on the opening Buchbinder-penned “Lailadance” with a parlor touch akin to Ruben Gonzalez as the horns voice Klezmer-inflected counterpoint. “Impresiones”, from Duran’s compositional corner, stitches another tight weave from the two principal stylistic threads and centers more attention on the pianist’s rhapsodic prowess.

Nachoff’s bass clarinet steals the klieg light on “Next One Rising”, phrasing in throaty drawl across an undulating backdrop of bass and hand percussion. Percussion heavy and propulsive, “Rumba Judia” almost sounds like a Jazz Messengers joint and shows off the group’s potent hardbop interests amidst the typical piebald blend of Judaic and Caribbean patterns. The only piece that falters measurably in its fusing of forms is the finale, “Freylekhs Tumbao” where the band sounds a bit like a rebel oompah ensemble forced to gig at a starch collar ice cream social, its delivery stiff, bombastic and oddly anachronistic. Buchbinder and his colleagues may be pulling from a well-sampled soup pot but the pleasure comes with how they bring the familiar ingredients to a consistently savory boil.

~ Derek Taylor