Blue Interlude : Wynton Marsalis : Review : Rolling Stone

The History of Jazz is one of rules constantly being rewritten – and Wynton Marsalis knows it. As the trumpet-playing Pied Piper of jazz, Marsalis rallied a generation beneath the banner of renewed craft, virtuosity and reverence for the music's history. By now mainstream jazz takes virtually all of its cues from Marsalis; for the most part, though, his technically prodigious acolytes still ply the same old wares. The soloist remains king of the hill – the democratic impulse of unfettered individual expression has been exploited and abused since the mid-Sixties heyday of John Coltrane.

Marsalis, meanwhile, has moved on. Blue Interlude, a project revolving around two extended compositions, has the potential to alter the course of contemporary jazz; at the very least it openly questions the stagnant practices and procedures that have bogged down the music. With Blue Interlude, Marsalis has an agenda: reuniting improvisation with compositional form and discipline. In other words, what would be so wrong with taking shorter solos in the service of lusher writing, richer arrangements and more detailed interplay among band members? Excising some of the ego from jazz has been Marsalis's most radical act; the triumph of Blue Interlude lies in the sum of its parts, not in its individual glories.

Of course Marsalis has a grand model to inspire him; the sumptuous melodies, harmonies, rhythms and instrumental colors of Duke Ellington inform all of Blue Interlude. Refashioning his septet into a miniature big band, Marsalis celebrates swing with grand swatches of orchestral texture and abundant instrumental exchanges. The title track is a thirty-seven-minute Marsalis original, his first extended composition to be recorded. Taking Ellington's own suites as his blueprints, Marsalis fashions Blue Interlude as a multithemed work that expertly shifts tempos and moods, juxtaposing concise solo passages with ingeniously voiced melodic statements by the horns (trumpet, trombone, alto saxophone and tenor saxophone doubling clarinet and soprano saxophone). The brilliantly alert rhythm section remains continuously on its feet, supporting and cajoling the horns. Carefully curtailed solo space forces economy and organization once again to become the improviser's main tools.

Tenor saxophonist Todd Williams's three-part "Jubilee Suite" also shares Marsalis's affection for commingling Duke-style swing with modern jazz harmonies and modal blues forms. Marsalis's aesthetic choices have obviously helped shape Williams; his piece also reins in individual solos while glorying in thick instrumental colors and pungent writing. As a saxophonist and composer, Williams emerges as a coming star.

The artistic success of Blue Interlude shouldn't be confused with innovation; Marsalis's vision remains conservative and restrictive. Superb bandleaders like Carla Bley and Muhal Richard Abrams and lesser knowns like Ed Wilkerson have been integrating long-form composition, improvisation and the power of Ornette Coleman's free-jazz vistas (a force Marsalis has yet to consider) for years now. But Wynton Marsalis is not on jazz's fringe; his influence is the force to be reckoned with. The implications of Blue Interlude – reshifting the focus from the soloist to the composer and the group as a whole – are even more important than the works themselves. As Marsalis draws on Ellington's boundless legacy to reinforce his own vision, so a host of others can look to Marsalis as they hopefully ponder – and reinvent – the shape of jazz to come.