David S. Ware

The critical buzz aroused by David S. Ware's work with Andrew Cyrille and Cecil Taylor in the '70s had, by the late '90s, turned into a consonant roar. New York's collective jazz press -- always on the lookout for the music's next messiah -- crowned Ware the "King of Free Jazz" on the basis of his energetic quartet albums from the mid-'90s. Ware's band (with Matthew Shipp on piano, William Parker on bass, and, variously, Susie lbarra, Marc Edwards, or Whit Dickey on drums) became the decade's avant-garde supergroup by consensus, and Ware is indeed a splendid artist. His saxophone technique is total; unlike a good many free players, Ware does not base his style on any particular technical shortcoming or theoretical misunderstanding. His knowledge of functional harmony is above and beyond that of virtually any other free saxophonist. He's learned both the music and the horn up and down, inside and out, from the bottom up. In this respect, he's a true heir to Coltrane, who also based his free work on a comprehensive knowledge of his materials. Indeed, Ware's typical manner of performance -- modal/free, rubato, high-energy collective improvisation -- stems directly from Meditations-era Coltrane. Ware's tenor sound is huge, centered, and multi-hued, all up and down its range. His facility is great, his imagination broad, and his expressive abilities immense. And no saxophonist now active plays with more unadulterated passion. Without question, he is a very, very fine, maybe even great player. His band, however, while certainly capable, has not proved to be on his level. Shipp is an excellent, Cecil Taylor-cum-McCoy Tyner pianist, but his best work has come as a leader of his own trio. With Ware, he often seems at a loss as to what to say in the midst of the band's...