Brennan, as; Lisle Ellis, b. September 28-29, 1998, Rossie, NY

The heart of the reviewer's critique necessarily focuses on the issue of subjective vs. objective art. Each written piece must address the issue of whether the contribution of the musicians should be merely described or judgement declared (or some of each). If improvised music is totally subjective, then the efforts of every artist are equally valid and the work of every performer is no better than that of any other. However appealing that approach may be, it is instinctively and demonstratively untenable. Otherwise the classic slolos of a John Coltrane or a Peter Brotzmann would be no better than the sputters of a second grade student. Yet, defining the elements that make one recording "better" than another is a difficult, sometimes impossible task, and not an entirely objective process. It is not self-discipline, creativity, virtuosity, nor any other factor that describes why one sound is superior to another. It is a combination of factors, including the less objective concept of pleasure, coupled with the subjective renderings of those (serious listeners and critics) who immerse themselves in the music. Over time there is a winnowing process in which the cream rises.

What stimulated this discussion is the simple, yet also attractive, approach of the instant CD. Patrick Brennan is an accomplished saxophonist, as evidenced by his extraordinary pointillist reading of Roscoe Mitchell's difficult "Nonaah," his fluid and powerful rendition of his own "teletropic," and his hard-edged and boppish "bucket-a-blood." Yet, often he chooses a more primitive, somewhat self-indulgent interpretation, one in which his notes land directly on (or even slightly after) the beat and sputter forth at a leisurely gait. Is Brennan successful? Is this a "good" CD? And if so, by what objective standards?

It is difficult for anyone to sustain interest for more than an hour of nearly solo playing. (Lisle Ellis seems comfortable here in a clearly supportive role.) Brennan does so for the most part, though not entirely. His acerbic tone appeals, as does his attractive way of exploring the fringes of a melody. Monk's "Crepuscule with Nellie" is given a revolutionary interpretation, as Brennan alludes only to the essence of the song, but he succeeds in making it his own. He is more direct in both versions of "Misterioso," but he veers enough to the edges to transform it. Elsewhere, the results are mixed, with "bucket-a-blood" a tour de force, and the "backAtchya" a revelation with its down-and-dirty plunger action (a throwback to Brennan's earlier days as a trombonist?); but his four-part "saunter, walk, amble" is a touch off-focus.

Has Brennan successfully contributed an artistic statement of merit? Perhaps only peripherally, and yet for our purposes, satisfactorily. Saunters, Walks, Ambles should please some more than others, but while it mines only a little new ground, it displays an appreciation for post-Ornette blowing with an often subtle flair. It sometimes digresses and ambles a bit too much, but it is sure to find something for nearly everyone who enjoys the free voice of the alto saxophone - subjectively speaking, that is.

Steven A Loewy
Page 115 Cadence - February 2000
Reprinted with permission from Cadence Magazine