Saxophone With Subtext Frank Wess

Saxophone With Subtext Frank Wess

Through their sound, some jazz players connote more than what is on the surface. They have a subtext. When Frank Wess plays tenor saxophone his sound can have a delicate, almost courtly veneer. But there’s another player underneath that sound with an almost opposite disposition, brawny and bullish.

Mr. Wess, who turned 86 in January, is aligned in history with Count Basie’s great second phase: the 1950s bands, whose reed and brass sections gave off an almost conversational feeling, as well as a blinding power used in sudden punches. Mr. Wess was already in his 30s when he joined Basie’s band, but it imprinted him: his music still has that antic and elegant character.

In Wednesday night’s late set at the Village Vanguard, he converged the swing-era languages of Lester Young and Coleman Hawkins, using dynamics and silence and restrained strength; he distributed jagged bebop in small pinches and generously hung blues phrases like streamers in the air.

For the last five years Mr. Wess has often played with the young Russian-born guitarist Ilya Lushtak, who doesn’t use a pick and puts rough, effortful jolts into his solos, keeping a steady swing rhythm. Mr. Lushtak is in the band at the Vanguard this week, along with the trumpeter Terrell Stafford, the bassist Rufus Reid and the drummer Winard Harper, and for 40 minutes or so it was an amiable set, including a shuffle with a sly melody called “You Made a Good Move,” a blues (“Power Station,” by Michael Weiss) and a breezy song for Mr. Wess’s flute playing (“Small Talk”).

Then the quintet started a fast song by Mr. Wess called “Backfire,” based on the chord changes of “I Got Rhythm.” Something happened: a sudden current of strength ran through the band.

Mr. Wess began his solo with a few notes like a bang, almost an alarm, then cooled down to begin his solo, improvising hill-and-dale interval jumps through the descending chord patterns. Mr. Stafford in turn played fast and brilliantly, with a splintering force. And “If You Can’t Call, Don’t Come,” the slow ballad that followed, felt as if it were drifting in the tailwind of what had come before: for a stretch, the band could do no wrong.

Mr. Wess ended the ballad by holding a note with wide vibrato. A lot of old bandstand knowledge was compressed in that long tone, as there had been in his entire performance. You can feel something similar with veteran pianists or bassists or drummers, but it’s dealt out more lavishly from players like Mr. Wess, who can breathe through their instruments. That last note felt like direct, physical access to the past: like seeing an old picture come to life.

The Frank Wess Quintet continues through Sunday at the Village Vanguard, 178 Seventh Avenue South, at 11th Street, West Village; (212) 255-4037, villagevanguard.com.