Sunday, February 20th, I attended the second night of a new series called Duets on the Hudson presented by Jazz at Lincoln Center. Why is it called Duets on the Hudson you might ask? Well, I'm happy to say that it is neither an outdoor concert in February nor some kinky scene on some Hudson River pier. The show took place at the Stanley H. Kaplan Penthouse on the 10th floor of the Rose Building in Lincoln Center, and the setting is much more impressive than the name would lead you to believe.

It's got very high ceilings with windows taking up all of two sides of the room. There's a view of the Hudson, around 300 seats with tables, a wonderful sound system, and the most receptive crowd I've ever seen. From any seat you could see the lights from the city, and lights from the candles partway up the windows. It shoots to hell the theory that jazz only sounds good in a dingy basement with low ceilings. So if there's a jazz fan you're hoping to sleep with, this would be a place you'd want to spend the early part of an evening.

The lineup was imposing. Two sets of duets from world class players. The first duet was pianist Paul Bley and bassist Charlie Haden, and the second was pianist Kenny Barron and sax player Gary Bartz. I was a bit nervous, as jazz duets can vary from incredibly subtle and potentially sleep-inducing to wild and uncompromisingly difficult. I had faith in the artists, having previously seen three of the four live, and my faith was rewarded. Paul Bley was the only one of the four I hadn't heard before and I was quite impressed. He looked like he should be Charles Durning's healthier brother and played like a more free jazz version of Bill Evans. The first songs he played solo and then Charlie Haden joined him for several other songs. These songs, although quiet, were quite varied and creative. Some were bluesy, some were well outside standard rhythms and tempos. Bley was someone who, as I'd once read in an article about Thelonious Monk, fucks with time.

One strange thing about this set of duets was that neither Bley nor Haden said a single word between songs or at the end of the set. It wasn't like they weren't having a good time and they were enjoying a good reception from the crowd. They just seemed to think that standard audience repartee was unnecessary. Personally I'd have liked hearing a few song titles, so I might know which of Bley's records to look for.

After an intermission, Kenny Barron and Gary Bartz came out. Barron and Bartz are half of the latest incarnation of the band Sphere, a very creative and talented band named after Thelonious Sphere Monk. The first song they played was "Star Eyes", one I associate with Charlie Parker and it was a relief to hear some familiar music. Of course Bartz was playing alto. The second song still had Bartz on alto for Billy Strayhorn's "Isfahan", which can be found on Sphere's recent self titled disk.

I was a little disappointed when Bartz, the best alto player I've ever seen, switched to soprano sax (preferred axe of Kenny G). But I was surprised and delighted when he and Barron played a gorgeous version of "Someday My Prince Will Come". And then he announced the first three songs of the set. (Yay! Performer/audience interaction--what a concept!) They played a beautiful Kurt Weill ballad, with Bartz still on soprano, and followed with Monk's "Well You Needn't". The highlight of the show was Barron's solo that seemed to devolve the piece down to its historical stride piano roots, making it sound like something from the 20's. The crowd loved their whole set, but gave that solo the biggest ovation of the evening.

So if you want to see a jazz show in a perfect setting, check out one of the offerings in the Duets on the Hudson series, or any shows in the penthouse at Lincoln Center. It's not cheap, but there are nice perks. Admission entitled you to a free glass of wine and they also have bottled water on the table. Here's a hint, save some of it in case you get a tickle in your throat. During the first set of duets it was so quiet I was afraid to cough. If my wife didn't see my Heimlich-style choking motions and was quick to respond with an Altoid, I might have either died or been beaten to death by devoted jazz fans. But I was glad that she didn't have to unwrap a candy in cellophane or she might have been equally at risk of violence. Still, don't let this potential danger stand in your way. It's a great place to see a show.