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Another Rhumba for Armando

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A Review of Another Rhumba for Armando

This morning's mail brought a welcome treat - Tim Berens' new "Another Rhumba for Armando," and I rushed to my CD player to try it on. Those familiar with Berens know him for his classical performances with major symphony orchestras and his recordings with the Cincinnati Pops, but with "Armando," Tim shows another side - one that confirms that his years of formal classical training hasn't hurt his playing a whit. And we get our first taste of his composing right off the start with the title cut, with its clever, twisty-but-true rhythms and virtuosic playing of the very first-rate from Tim and his sidemen, Marc Wolfley and Eric Sayer. Delivering rhumbas is a lot like playing Bach - you need to somehow combine musicality and inflexion with extreme precision to bring it off, and Berens' finger work is just wonderful to listen to.

"Spain" is maybe the perfect side trip. Anybody over 40 needs to put the kids to bed and settle into a comfy sofa for this one. You'll be instantly transported to happy reminiscences of 1973 with Corea's stop-start tempos (but watch out that Rodrigo's well-known classical sandwich doesn't jolt you back to Ricardo Montelban and into a Plymouth Volaré on the same trip).

And speaking of trips - Berens' "Caravan" is a hoot, and you can just see the trio - here joined by a very persuasive Doug Morgan on sax - arguing in the studio whether or not the Bizet quotes are really going to work with the Duke's dark churning lines. For myself, I decided that if you can't have fun, there isn't much point in doing any of this stuff, although the second insertion ("Toreador," which is in a major key) was a bit more of a musical shock to Ellington's sophisticated minor key fabric than I was ready for.

In truth, the entire album is a series of finely-turned juxtapositions, with a superb lyric rendition of "I Remember You" being followed by a brief but rewarding Bagatelle by William Walton. Walton aficionados know that Sir William wrote a whole closet full of fascinating diversions like this one, and maybe someday Berens will favor us with an entire album: "Berens Plays Walton" or some such. As for his "I Remember You," try to imagine Paul Desmond, very late at night in a very small club, and you'll get the idea. Wolfley's percussion is a marvel throughout the album, but here it's a special sort of delicate, exquisite perfection.

"Summertime" is where Berens' finds his toughest challenge and succeeds perhaps most admirably. This irresistible standard promises slam-dunk success in any setting, but Gershwin's long melodic lines demand the interest and variation of the human voice it was originally written for, and the only reliable instrumental response is a tenor saxophone. (Pianists - as usual arrogant with a false sense of musical omnipotence - spun out of control with "Summertime" decades ago, with evermore abstruse harmonies and a profusion of progressively awful up-tempo top-this horrors.) But Berens insists here on taking his Gershwin straight-up at face markings - an enormous test for guitar - and one stanza into it, he has you hooked for a fine improvisational 16-bar trip until he finally releases you at the end with the sweetest most delicate vibrato. And speaking of endings - after a treatment of Shearing's jazz anthem of the '50s that's much more Wes Montgomery than Django Reinhardt - Berens' finale to "Birdland," spins off into a carousel of ¾ time, and you only wonder why they didn't throw caution to the wind and take this well-worn chestnut for the full ride instead of just a sort of "Hey, check this out!" coda.

But maybe the best is yet to come. Make no mistake - if you're feeling romantic, sink into that sofa, put your arm around someone you love, and watch the candles grow dim; this is the music you want with you at times like this. Berens' "A Child Is Born" immediately became my favorite rendition of this oft-played classic. Here, Berens' translucent tone is an ideal complement to a gentle arrangement Bill Evans could have written, and my only wish is that they might have spun it out for another four minutes or so. Sayer's bass is maybe at its best here, solid yet imaginative, subtly intertwined with the melody and never overbearing.

But this is Berens' album, and he holds "'Round Midnight" as a solo, taking the guitar through a wonderfully orchestral range of tone, from stiff bass resonances to crystalline harmonics, freely molding the rhythm but somehow never straying far from Monk's driving pulse under the surface. It's about as close to a tour-de-force as this enormously talented but modest musician is ever likely to reveal.

And so Midnight closes softly. Blow out the candles, it's time to go upstairs.

Tony van Seventer