Billy Harper Quintet brings high-class hard-bop to Ronnie Scott’s

“This one features nobody in particular!” No sooner had the words passed Billy Harper’s lips than raucous laughter erupts around Ronnie Scott’s. The tenor saxophonist theatrically lowered his voice to a gruff drawl in imitation of Art Blakey, leader of The Jazz Messengers, of which Harper was a member in the late 1960s. A moment of levity it may be but the reference is hugely significant insofar as it underlines Harper’s role as a living link to one of the key architects of modern jazz.

In a brief Q&A with the audience Harper, a sprightly 82 year-old, also mentioned his time with Lee Morgan, Max Roach and Thad Jones-Mel Lewis Orchestra with which he appeared at Ronnie’s back in 1973. But the present is just as valid as the past and this sold-out show gives credence to the claim that Harper is a draw in his own right. Leading a fine multi-generational quintet – pianist Francesca Tanksley, drummer Aaron Scott, double bassist Dezron Douglas and trumpeter Freddie Hendrix – Harper, clad in a long black leather tunic, excels for the intelligent beauty of his improvising while his original material marks him out as a modern day composer deserving of greater recognition.

Mid- and up-tempo pieces such as first set opener ‘Illumination’, and second set closer ‘Insight’, show how he has taken hard bop, with its propulsive swing and bluesy riffing, and given it a wholly personal imprint. Harper’s themes are intensely lyrical, often with a gospel undercurrent that steers clear of righteous cliché. ‘Croquet Ballet’, which he recorded with Morgan, is a noble lament that floats on a 6-beat pulse, eliciting a yearning solo from Harper while ‘Trying To Get Ready’ seriously ups the ante, with a brash, fiery Hendrix loosely in Morgan mode. Houston-born Harper’s improvisations blend a Texas tenor muscularity with a post-Trane agility, yet what he does on ‘Priestess’ is memorable.

Rather than use the deeply romantic theme as a launchpad for harmonic trickery Harper plays a series of concise, pert melodic variations, volleys of staccato two, three and four note phrases built on small rather than large intervals, and it feels as if he is whispering in our ears, creating a form of spiritual jazz drawn from but nonetheless existing outside of Trane’s sphere. The result is emotional intimacy born of musical maturity. The sense of measure also marks ‘Thoughts And Slow Actions’, a sensitive duet between Harper and Tanksley, which again is a triumph of focus and economy. One of Blakey’s most meaningful edicts – “Don’t hide behind technique!”– may well live in the saxophonist’s subconscious.