Conversation is abundant in this semi-free session. Hutcherson is the nominal leader, yet with all the give and take in the performances, almost any of the six players could be the marquee name. Andrew Hill’s piano creates a lot of heady atmosphere, while bassist Richard Davis brings a strong presence. It could be Freddie Hubbard, trumpeting a new direction for himself, or perhaps drummer Joe Chambers, with his penchant for angular compositions. The only person you wouldn’t finger as the leader is Sam Rivers, who tends to stay in a secondary role on reeds. That leaves Hutcherson, who may not have written any of the music, but who binds everything together with his support and solos.

Dialogue’s five pieces sit right on the edge of the avant-garde, and the first two come grounded in rhythm and structure. Hill’s “Catta” mambo has dark chords and a prim trumpet and sax melody, underlined by a trancelike piano vamp. Then comes Chambers’ “Idle While”, an enigmatic waltz with Rivers on flute and Hill sitting out. The traditional rhythms of these first two pieces lure the listener into the center of the album, where the trap door falls.

“Les Noirs Marchant” features a marching Hill theme that dissolves into spiky though not aggressively atonal free improv. Trumpet, flute, and vibes engage in textural improvisations as Hill tolls fearsome notes and the bass and drums move in fits and spurts. The players build a series of small crescendos, eventually returning to the march cadence and fading out.

The title track “Dialogue” is next, and again, instruments come in and out of focus in a democratic exchange of melodic snippets and brief crescendos. Hutcherson steps out with a couple of fragmented marimba riffs. The group plays as if in a vacuum, and improv like this doesn’t attempt to signify anything except the process itself. “Dialogue” and “Les Noirs Marchant” are stimulating examples of musicians closing the songbook and looking to each other for an impetus to play.

The fifth track, “Ghetto Lights”, reverts to bluesy 6/8 terra firma. Hubbard in particular dives into his licks with relish, having been in uncertain orbit for the last two tracks. The CD adds the bonus track “Jasper”, a fun swinger that was obviously not in line with the tracks chosen for the proper program. As for Dialogue’s place in the ‘60s canon, I think it’s an important experiment in freedom, and it acknowledges a few traditional values as well.


Happenings
Feb. 1966 / Blue Note RVG

On this album, Hutcherson plays “front line” with vibes and marimba over the support trio of Herbie Hancock, Bob Cranshaw, and Joe Chambers. Herbie reads Hutcherson like a brother; at times, it’s as if vibes and piano are being played by one person with four arms. Before we get carried away with the uniqueness of the instrumentation, though, let’s not forget a group known as the Modern Jazz Quartet. I guess you could call these guys the More Modern JQ.

Apart from a very likeable version of Hancock’s “Maiden Voyage”, all of the material is written by Hutcherson. The progressive “Aquarian Moon” and the smooth modal ride of “Head Start” stand out. Hutch’s solos on these pieces are very fluent and creative, and so are Hancock’s, especially in “Aquarian Moon”. The Latin-ish “Rojo” sounds a little rote, though I’ll give it the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, the ballads are snoozers. The relaxed chord sequence of “Bouquet” is barely more than a sketch, and it goes on for eight somnambulant minutes. At least the maudlin “When You Are Near” finishes in less than half that time.

The album ends with marimba, piano, and drums in a puttering free dialogue called “The Omen”. Not especially rewarding in itself, it provides a final change of pace. Happenings has some fine cuts (“Moon”, “Voyage”, and “Head Start”) and is worth the pickup for Hutch fans, although those ballads are draggy.


Oblique
July 1967 / Blue Note RVG

Cool post-bop quartet music with a dash of freedom. Hutch is backed by Herbie Hancock, Albert Stinson, and Joe Chambers on a program that gets more oblique as it progresses. The opener “Til Then” has a frilly melody in a light samba rhythm, and the solos make use of the suggestive chord movement. Then comes “My Joy”, a precious waltz of classical feel - somewhat MJQ, thanks to the instrumentation - and the solos take a heavier turn. Hancock’s piano improv reaches a high peak and the afterglow spills into Stinson’s bass spot. Hancock’s “Theme From Blow Up” is the hooky centerpiece of the album, sounding like Maiden Voyage Part Deux - elegant rhythm, modal movement, glowing melody. Hutcherson’s “Subtle Neptune” is another samba-based jam on lilting, modernist chords. Again, Hancock steps out with a magnificent solo that builds up, winds down, and rebuilds to a second climax. Given all of Hancock’s sideman work in the decade, it’s easy to take his playing for granted, then along comes an album like this that makes you re-evaluate his brilliance from the ground up.

The last two tracks are credited to drummer Chambers. “Oblique” races into free solos; Hutch does a lot of stop/start phrasing and reaches a tense peak as the bass and drums crash-land their swing. The angular head of “Bi-Sectional” (is that a working title or what?) leads to tempo-less group improv. At one point in this track, Hutch moves to the drum kit while Chambers pounds tympani. “Bi-Sectional” updates the close conversations of Dialogue, where the musicians are responsible for their own direction. So this album ranges from catchy to dangerous. Two things stand out overall: the harmonic atmospheres of “Blow Up” and “Subtle Neptune”, and Herbie Hancock’s remarkable piano on the first four tracks.


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