David S. Ware

by Chris Kelsey
The critical buzz aroused by David S. Wares work with Andrew Cyrille and Cecil Taylor in the 70s had, by the late 90s, turned into a consonant roar. New Yorks collective jazz press — always on the lookout for the musics next messiah — crowned Ware the King of Free Jazz on the basis of his energetic quartet albums from the mid-90s. Wares band (with Matthew Shipp on piano, William Parker on bass, and, variously, Susie lbarra, Marc Edwards, or Whit Dickey on drums) became the decades 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. Hes learned both the music and the horn up and down, inside and out, from the bottom up. In this respect, hes a true heir to Coltrane, who also based his free work on a comprehensive knowledge of his materials. Indeed, Wares typical manner of performance — modal/free, rubato, high-energy collective improvisation — stems directly from Meditations-era Coltrane.
Wares 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 bands hyperkinetic collective improvisations — overwhelmed, or so it seems, by Wares volcanic passion. Wares finest, most complementary drummer has been Marc Edwards, a more roughly hewn and spontaneous player than the glib lbarra and the coloristic Dickey. Of Wares bandmates, only Parker is his equal as a creative presence. William Parker generates energy like no other bassist; a band with Parker on bass doesnt need a drummer, so powerful is his percussive drive.
Ware played alto, tenor, and bari saxes in his teens. In the late 60s, he attended Berklee School of Music in Boston. There he formed a band called Apogee, which played around Boston until 1973, when the band moved en masse to New York. In 1974, Ware performed in a large Cecil Taylor aggregation at Carnegie Hall. The mid-70s found Ware a member of drummer Andrew Cyrilles group, in a trio with trumpeter Raphe Malik, and on tour with Taylor. In 1977, he played in bop pianist Barry Harris band; the two recorded a duo album that same year. Beginning in the late 80s, he renewed his association with Cyrille and played on the drummers highly acclaimed Black Saint release Metamusicians Stomp.
As a leader, Wares recording career began in earnest with a pair of releases on the Silkheart label: 1988s Passage to Music and 1990s Great Bliss, Vol. 1. In the early 90s, Ware began recording for the Japanese DIW label; that companys 1991 release, Flight of I, was distributed by Columbia and remains in many ways the tenorists most stunning work. The late 90s had Ware recording with his quartet for a number of independent companies, including most notably the alternative rock (and now-defunct) Homestead label. He signed to Columbia for 1998s Go See the World, issuing Third Ear Recitation on DIW/Koch later that same year. Surrendered followed on Columbia in the spring of 2000. While continuing his rapid fire release schedule, he released Corridors & Parallels in September 2001 on the AUM Fidelity label. Freedom Suite followed in 2002, Threads in 2003, Live in the World in 2005, BalladWare in 2006, and Renunciation in 2007.