Live Views
Jazz legend Pharoah Sanders
by Kimberly Chun, SF Gate
Friday, March 16, 2001
©2001 SF Gate

URL: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=/gate/archive/2001/03/16/live.DTL

It was all about love at Pharoah Sanders' performance Tuesday, the first in a six-day run at Yoshi's in Oakland. From "Welcome," the opening overture of bells, bowed bass and coos of "Beautiful people, welcome," to the sultry yet emotional standard, "Polkadots and Moonbeams," Sanders and his quartet focused on the positive, creating an upbeat tone and an easy and, at times, intense vibe. Taking a cue from the latter song's lyrics, the evening was built on a foundation of "lilacs and laughter," promising an "ever after" in the post-bop world.

Judging from Sanders' selections, hardcore bop and its free jazz cousin have never really stopped for the tenor saxophonist. Hence the ease with which Sanders and his crack quartet swung from the rousing "Welcome" (which closed with Sanders treating his sax like a percussive instrument, beating out a mbiralike rhythm with his fingers on the keys) into the opening strains of "A Love Supreme," his old cohort John Coltrane's masterwork. Over the fluid groove supported by pianist William Henderson and drummer Ralph Penland, Sanders worked his way from rich, deep notes to twirling, ascending scales and finally bursts of noise and violent, convulsive shrieks. Bassist Bob Hurst plucked steadily in the background, grinning with pleasure and disbelief, as vocalist Dwight Tribble clapped his hands softly beside Sanders.

Then as suddenly as he started, Sanders took the solo back down from the reaches of noise, sat down on a stool and folded his hands, looking off into the distance and rocking back and forth imperceptibly, as each player took his turn. Pendland particularly stood out as he accelerated from gentle, subtle rolls into a wild improv and back, followed by Tribble, chanting "Expand your mind, expand your mind."

Sanders is known as much for his work with vocalists such as Leon Thomas as he is for his free jazz experimentation. So it was no surprise that another high point was his segue from "Dr. Pitts'" particularly raucous, screeching solo -- played out over a series of rippling chords by pianist Henderson and a solid, swaying bed of rhythm laid down by Penland and Hurst -- into the classic "Polkadots and Moonbeams," which he recorded in his 1998 album Great Moments. Tribble took his opportunity to play with dynamics, wrenching maximum drama out of the sweet, almost fairydust-light standard, as a counterpoint to Sanders' the fluttering then soaring approach.

Sanders provided the edge that cut through the sentimentality, the wilderness of sound that brings both grounds and magnifies the mundane into the otherworldly on an otherwise sedate evening. And that approach extended to everything, including band introductions: The 60-year-old Little Rock, Ark., native first introduced his quartet by simply, sonorously saying each player's name and then roared it once or twice again loudly.

It was clear that for Sanders everything could be improved with a little creative dissonance. It was all good, until it was bad -- and then even the bad notes were welcome.

©2001 SF Gate