DHQ

Last Saturday evening brought the incomparable Dave Holland Quintet roaring into Buenos Aires for a big gig at the Teatro Coliseo. The Quintet has had the same personnel for the last ten years—except for drummer Nate Smith, who has only been there for the last four—a rare phenomenon in today's jazz world which makes the group really shine. When I saw DHQ for the first time in Chicago, the amount of duets within the quintet setting really struck me. In Buenos Aires it was even more evident. On "Soul's Harbor," a new Chris Potter composition, there were a few such duets, including a moment in which Potter and Holland riffed off each other as the rest of the band walked off stage.

Every member of DHQ is a master, but increasingly, it's becoming Potter's band. The BA crowd burst into joyful uproar every time he finished a solo—solos which seem to be longer, knottier, and deeper than in early years—and as the crowd poured out, the buzz was that Potter had been the star. He's on the cover of this month's Down Beat, has his own major band, Underground, and seems to be omnipresent on the New York scene. In the last year or so, I've seen him with Holland, Jason Moran, Paul Motian, and his own group. He's always one of the very best parts of the night.

The saxophone is a crowd pleaser, certainly more than the trombone or the vibraphone which have a less showy intensity. Steve Nelson, Holland's vibraphonist, is the group's mad scientist, conjuring Monkish dissonance and spontaneity. When I've seen DHQ previously, always at Chicago's Jazz Showcase, Nelson has felt like the most important member of the group, the unpredictable spark who keeps everyone on their toes (fulfilling a similar to function to what drummer Paul Motian brings to his current groups).

Robin Eubanks is one of the best trombone players I know, but paired with Potter on the front lines, it's often tough for him to stand out against the saxophonist's dazzling fluency. Eubanks, it should be noted, is one of the group's main composers, and his theme, "Metamorphos," is my favorite DHQ tune.

As for drummer Nate Smith, well suffice it to say that he's brings a palpable sense of joy to the band that has made them even better than during their years with Billy Kilson.

Then there's the matter of Holland himself, who, to my mind, stands as an ideal of dignity and generosity in jazz. I've never met Holland, although all indications are that he's a thoroughly good man, but I see him as, if you'll allow me this ridiculous flight, the Gandalf of the band. Content to lead and bring out the best in others, he stands in the background and allows the music to flow through him. This isn't to say he's not active, he plays constantly, but he never calls attention to himself—the consummate teacher guiding his pupils toward the stratosphere.

But like Gandalf, when the time comes, he can kick serious ass. In Chicago, I once saw Holland burst into one of the most intense expressions of feeling I've seen in music. The notes were getting quicker and darker, when Holland slammed his foot down on the floor (an honest-to-goodness slam, shaking the club) and let out a tortured moan. Holland is an Englishman and a restrained (but certainly not repressed) sort; and when he bares himself so powerfully it means a lot more than it does for musicians who expose their depths with every solo. This deep exposure is present in every Holland solo, but rarely realized. He's the far better player for his refusal to be showy and his insistence on being honest with every note.

The following week should see a couple other jazz posts, with planned trips to see Levas Cruzadas on Sunday, and another show on Wednesday. I will also be making my debut on the Buenos Aires restaurant scene on Friday, where I'll be wielding a cooking knife at Casa Felix...