PlayersBekaGochiashviliMomentous ArrivalWith keyboard demons getting youngerand younger, it’s growing tougherto separate the prodigy from themerely gifted. But the rare bird whose youthfulabilities rise above the prodigious is easy tospot, and teenage pianist Beka Gochiashvili, anative of the former Soviet republic of Georgia,is decidedly one.That was the assessment of drummer LennyWhite as he observed Gochiashvili at the grandpiano on a quiet afternoon in March at Birdlandin Manhattan. Birdland is a setting of note for thepianist, who already counts among his achievementssome sizzling sets there with high-flyingartists like White. Recalling those dates,Birdland’s owners agreed to make the club availablefor some off-hours music and conversation.Seated at the piano, Gochiashvili cut thewiry, even hungry figure of one who had beencaught up in the painful adjustments of post-Soviet society, not least the transformation froma culture in which jazz was forbidden to one inwhich it was allowed to grow. Days short of his17th birthday, he appeared wise beyond his years.His playing revealed a mature sensibility,which for White invited comparison with thatof a 17-year-old wunderkind from the past:Tony Williams. “When [Williams] came on thescene, everybody recognized that,” White said.“They’ll do the same with Beka.”Such heady talk is nothing new forGochiashvili. By age 11, he was drawing ravesand disarming listeners, including White, whofirst heard him play during a workshop at the2007 Saulkrasti Jazz Festival in Latvia, wherethe drummer was appearing. White said he putGochiashvili through his paces, inviting him tosit in with his band as it ran through “All TheThings You Are.” Gochiashvili contributedwith subtlety and sophistication to the group, atop-flight aggregation that included saxophonistBenny Maupin and bassist Victor Bailey.“Showing that kind of knowledge at such anearly age was remarkable,” said White, whostored the information for future use beforeheading back to the United States.After the Saulkrasti moment, Gochiashvilisaid, he “was in heaven.” But that was not hisonly brush with fame in 2007. Already a pintsizedfixture in the clubs of Tbilisi, the Georgiancapital, he had come to the attention of local governmentofficials, who introduced him to then-Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice. An amateurpianist, Rice was reportedly so captivatedby his playing that she added her support to thatof Georgian authorities, who, viewing him as avaluable cultural export at a time of increasingtension with Russia, helped stake him to a trip tothe United States in July 2008, a month beforewar broke out between Russia and Georgia. Thetrip proved a turning point; he auditioned forJuilliard and was accepted to the school’s precollegedivision, where he began studying withpianist Frank Kimbrough.Despite that acceptance, life in the UnitedStates at first seemed harsh. He was separated fromfamily, friends and hometown fans. “I was sadand depressed, but jazz saved me,” Gochiashvilirecalled. In 2010 he reconnected with White andbegan mixing with two other charter members ofReturn to Forever: Stanley Clarke and Chick Corea,a strong influence on his evolving style. Gigs followed,including a string of performances withClarke’s trio last year, with a stint at Manhattan’sBlue Note being one of the key highlights.This year, Corea asked him to be part of aperformance in May at Jazz at Lincoln Center,along with heavyweights like trumpeter WallaceRoney and bassist John Patitucci—both of whomplayed on Gochiashvili’s eponymous debut CD,released last year under the Exitus label and producedby White. The album stands out for itspersonal statements, highlighted by the openingnumber, “Un Gran Abrazo,” an evocative tributeto Corea that Gochiashvili first performed in asolo turn at the Blue Note in November 2011—at Corea’s request during his 70th birthday bash.Gochiashvili takes such gestures in stride,projecting an understated confidence. Asked toexplain the process by which he works, he playsdown the impressive assortment of tools he has sorapidly acquired and focuses instead on the emotionaldemands of the art form.“There’s nothing to know in jazz,” he said.“There’s something to feel.”Having led groups at Birdland in 2010 and2011, he will return there in June, with a hiphop-leaningquartet complete with turntablist.He also plans to continue his acoustic effortsin a variety of formats. The road beckons andwell-heeled backers are said to be waiting in thewings, though he is wary about being swept up inthe touring life before he knows himself better,lest he risk closing down the channels that havefueled his creative growth.“Concerts are not the main thing in my life,”he said. “The main thing is keeping my availabilityfor improvising.” —Phillip Lutz20 DOWNBEAT JUNE 2013
NoahPremingerIntuitiveLeaderSam RoblesThe term “old soul” seems to be the defaultdescription when saxophonist NoahPreminger’s elders discuss his tonal personality.Consider, for example, pianist FrankKimbrough’s account of Preminger’s comportmentat the 2007 recording session that producedhis eclectic debut, Dry Bridge Road(Nowt). Fresh out of New England Conservatory,Preminger was 21 at the time.“I thought this kid would be nervous, and we’dhave to do a bunch of takes,” Kimbrough recalled.“What blew us all away is that from the first notehe was just one of us, remarkably self-assuredwithout being cocky. He got the job done, and hisplaying was mature.”Kimbrough spoke the day before he and thetenorist, now 26, would record a duet collaboration.“With Noah, everything is about processas opposed to product, which is how somany young musicians think,” he said, referencingPreminger’s manner when leading therecording sessions for his 2011 Palmetto albumBefore The Rain—a quartet project that includedKimbrough, bassist John Hébert and drummerMatt Wilson. “We called tunes and recordedthe whole thing with no rehearsal in three-and-ahalfhours. I don’t like that science-projecty shitwhere you rehearse a lot and it’s too complicatedto wrap your head around.”On Preminger’s new Palmetto release,Haymaker—recorded with guitarist Ben Monder,bassist Matt Pavolka and drummer ColinStranahan—the proceedings diverge from theopen, freebop-to-floaty feel of Before The Rain,incorporating poppish melodies, rockish straighteighthbeats, soaring jams, odd-metered vampsand virtuosic solo digressions by tenor and guitar.Nonetheless, the ensemble, bolstered by aprior European tour with stops in Switzerland andSpain, follows Preminger’s relaxed approach.“This is New York and everybody can play,”Preminger remarked. “There’s no ego bullshit;just ‘Let’s go do our thing.’ It’s all about intuition.That’s how it should be.”The title track was inspired by Preminger’sformer boxing coach at the Manhattan gymwhere he trained for several years. WhenPreminger hit a sparring partner with a rightcross that propelled him across the ring, hiscoach said, “You hit him with a fuckin’ haymaker,man!” Shortly thereafter, the coach died of ananeurysm. “At the funeral,” Preminger said, “hisson told me that his dad had talked about the haymakerand me on his deathbed.”Preminger perceives no incongruity betweenhis love of adrenalin-inducing activity—he alsoskydives and skis—and the reflective quality ofhis caress-all-the-notes approach to saxophoneexpression. “Boxing is a great sport,” he said.“It teaches patience and respect and composureand breathing. I feel I need to live a full life andincorporate my experiences in music. I prefer toplay grittier, dirtier stuff, and I want to have fun.”Toward that end, Preminger said, he was preparingto launch a collaborative Afrobeat band thatfeatures big-sound tenorist Drew Sayers, a classmateof his at New England Conservatory andWilliam H. Hall High School in West Hartford,Conn. A native of rural Canton, Preminger “grewup on 25 acres with a couple of dogs” and startedplaying music as a child. He attended jazz campwith Dave Liebman at 12, and later enrolled atHall at the invitation of the school’s band director.“I made more money at Hall than I have sinceI graduated there,” Preminger said, mentioning$1,000 paychecks for gigs at local galas. “I wasaround guys who could really play and kick myass.” There was intellectual growth, if less remunerativework, in Boston during his NEC years.Preminger counts faculty members Allan Chase,Jerry Bergonzi and Frank Carlberg as consequentialmentors, as were (following his 2007 move toNew York) elders Cecil McBee, who employedhim, and Billy Hart, whose skills he has retainedon several occasions.Although Preminger gripes about New Yorkeconomics and quality of life, he intends to remainin Brooklyn and to have fun. “I pick people whosecompany I enjoy,” he said. “If you happen to likeassholes, go hang out with them.” —Ted PankenJUNE 2013 DOWNBEAT 21