by Craig Nixon

I have a recurring dream about Borah Bergman. In this dream the pianist is a gunslinger in a Wild West-type showdown. After counting down several paces Bergman turns, draws and fires, not using a pair of six-shooters, but a pair of weapons equally as lethal, his own hands. Aptly, Borah's hands produce explosions as loud as any pistol, making short work of his opponents. When the smoke clears Gunslinging Borah, apparently satisfied with his victory, slowly extracts from his holster a pint of Russian vodka and takes a liberal nip, surveying the damage. A quick pan to the right shows that the fallen foes are everyone who has ever played a duo with Bergman - Roscoe Mitchell, Andrew Cyrille, Rashied Ali, Oliver Lake - all have been laid waste by the pianist's deadly hands. Cut farther right and we see that the showdown isn't over yet, for emerging from the gunsmoke is the Last Man Standing, Evan Parker. A quick shot back to Bergman shows him pondering his next move, one furry eyebrow bemusedly raised.

The fact that I've had this dream several times is freaky enough, but what really destroyed my mind was the first thing I could find on Bergman was this, from his own original writings: "He liked to have lots of ammunition and the right guns. the ammunition would be his ideas. and the guns would be his hands. the hands would have to be ready to fire, whatever the situation. but the hands could not fire unless the fingers could respond immediately to any command.

The fingers were the soldiers. they would shoot the guns. they had to be in shape and trained to follow orders. once the decision was made there could be no hesitation in executing the order. no hesitation meant direct action. direct action was an ingredient for grabbing the moment. grabbing the moment was when the act had impact. the impact had the integrity of creation and could be devastating." Maybe there is something to all this symbolism, since I had been having the dream long before I ever laid eyes on this quote...

Toronto 1997 pairs the gunsman with the late Thomas Chapin for their second duo recording, a concert from the DuMaurier Downtown Jazz Festival, a mere seven months before Chapin's death from leukemia at the age of forty. Known for his wide range Chapin, as comfortable with hard bop as free improvisation, is fittingly pushing his creativity to its outer reaches on one of his last recordings.

Weakened by illness and chemotherapy, performing at all must have been a struggle for the saxophonist, let alone the herculean task of facing off with a duo partner as willful and unyielding as Bergman. Despite his condition, Chapin sounds remarkably up to the task, his tone strong and intact, his mind quick and his wit as sharp as ever. The third of the five movements here finds him conversing with himself by switching between alto and flute with amazing speed and dexterity. Throughout the set, Chapin is listening carefully to his partner and trying, mostly with success, to fit in and around Bergman's universe.

And Bergman is, well, Bergman. A duo with him doesn't really have a beginning point, it's more as if the pianist is engaged in an ongoing lifelong solo performance and the partner's mission is to enter and try to find a way to fit. It will either work or not - either way it dosen't make Borah no nevermind, he'll just keep on. The pianist's technical ability is by now legendary and unequalled, a direct result of decades of rigorous practice and study. His playing is in a constant state of what the pianist describes as "ambi-ideation", a constant, distinctly separate flow of ideas emnating from both right hand and left. Content to sound like no other pianist, Bergman does not.

This is an important release, one that bears testimony to the strength and will of Thomas Chapin and gives further visibility to the under-recorded Borah Bergman. That these two distinct personalities find as much common ground as they do is an impressive accomplishment for both men, and a fitting tribute to the memory of Thomas Chapin.

Personnel: Borah Bergman, piano; Thomas Chapin, alto saxophone, flute

Tracks: A Suite for Terry Chapin, parts 1-5

Total time: 44:57