Pronounced john-gear-off


 

Eldar Djangirov at the Jazz Bakery in Los Angeles in 2001.

The playing of Eldar Djangirov gives you, in addition to its prodigious skill, a sense of freshness and warmth that matches the freshness and warmth of the downy cheeks and soft eyes this 14-year-old phenomenon from Kansas City brought to town.

 "When I Fall in Love" was a good example of this rare quality in the overtilled valley of modern jazz. Djangirov (pronounced, he charitably advised, john gear off) skewed the notes of the theme just slightly, enough to set up a tantalizing counterrhythm, three beats against four beats. Then he returned to conventional 4/4 and improvised in single finger phrases, touching the keys like a feather falling on them. 

The result was either not quite Bill Evans or just past Bill Evans, you couldn't be sure. Anyway, it was a songlike outcome comparable to Bill Evans, just as Djangirov's summer lightning runs were comparable to those of Art Tatum and his swinging block chord passages were comparable to those of Oscar Peterson. 

Honest. 

The young gent certainly knew how to pick repertoire. On a night at the Jazz Bakery in November 2001  it was "Lester Leaps In," a simple 1930s riff by the great tenorman Lester Young that showed Eldar knows his way around the foundation stones. "Sandu" brought out another much-loved jazzman, Clifford Brown, and here the block chord passages might have been by Milt Buckner, the pianist who started the whole business with Lionel Hampton. But when Djangirov plays block chords he gives it that light touch of his, which allows all the notes in the chord to sound and feed the ear. 

When he ran across Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker (which couldn't have been all that long ago), what caught his ear, he said, was how fast they played. Thereupon he launched into a slightly Latin version of "Groovin' High,' at a tempo that couldn't have been much faster. But he whipped through it so nonchalantly that it seemed at times like nothing, effortless and no trick to it at all. Not! 

The two able rhythm section veterans who accompanied him in his Los Angeles debut, Bob Maize, bass; and Paul Kreibach, drums, were pretty much required to stay at the top of their game and did not throw him any soft pitches, here or anywhere else. 

Charming and poised in a double breasted dark blue suit with a figured tie, Djangirov asked Scott Joplin's forgiveness for what he was about to do to "The Entertainer," and here, thankfully, a few seams showed in a patchwork arranging effort. 

Otherwise, it would have been hard to say what jazz worlds are left for him to conquer. This guy's a keeper. 

 

The Kansas City flash takes a bow.

 

 

Text and photographs by Tony Gieske

Tony Gieske has been reviewing jazz and occasionally playing it on his cornet since the 1950s, when he wrote the jazz column for the Washington Post. Now he works for the Hollywood Reporter, where his reviews and photographs, such as these, appear regularly.The photographs are available as prints or as scans by sending an e-mail to grnskl@earthlink.net. More jazz stuff can be seen by clicking on the links beneath.

 

 

Jumpin' in the Boneyard: The prelude

The night they remembered Woody

Woody remembers Woody

Woodchoppin' for the old Woodchopper

The blue flame goes out

Riding with the boys on the Count Basie bus

A mockingbird sang on Citrus Place: Annie Ross

Melissa Manchester's voice does everything she asks

Earthy delights with the Bricktop of the blues

Uan Rasey: Play it reverently

Young Jazz Giants: Newsy and juicy

A taste of the new Brownie, Maurice Brown

Hank Jones: Not a minute to waste

Horace Silver becomes more spiritual

Take your time, Sister D

Gerald Wilson reveals the secret of bebop

Teddy Edwards: 'You ain't done nothing but play great.'

No sun, no day: Sun Ra

Tiny Grimes: 'I never could afford the other two strings'

'Ain't that a bitch!' said Jay McShann

Woof of melancholy, warp of jazz

'Pop, can you play this thing?' Stacy asks Jimmy Rowles

Hamp's last stand

Hamp's last stand: The outtakes

Final flight

'I never wanted a band,' said Marshal Royal

Twinkly but unblinking: Lorraine Feather

Pronounced john-gear-off

Miss Peggy Lee, 1920-2002

The real Count

'A little trumpet player from down in Dayton named Snooky'

Sweets Edison: Death of a Mainstay

Hubbard in the hood

With abandon but chops: DDB

Dwight Trible, kick-ass holy man 

'I'm Roy Haynes, Dammit!'

High kicks and belly blows: James Carter

The accursed Coltrane

Jazz Fusion Is Not Dead: Billy Cobham

Brookmeyer: Soft spoken but hard core.

Snakes in the Clover: Steve Lacy

Sam Rivers: Like Bartok rocking out

Les Paul, Solid Body

Billy Higgins: We're really blessed

A night full of deep things: Charles Lloyd

Death of the horse whisperer

Talking about Chet Baker

A visit from the Poinciana Kid

 Adieu to Art, a Euro-gentleman of jazz

Blues for Bags, 1923-99

A night with the Florence nightingales 

 An ancient afternoon with Dizzy

Bill Berry's Own Private Ellington

A Bowl full of bebop

A blessing blows into town

Blowing with Buckaroo Banzai

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