issue 39 :: fall 2005

Opening the Gates (Cadence, 2004), tenor saxophonist James Finn’s trio disc with Dominic Duval and Whit Dickey, is as startling a debut as anyone has managed in recent years. It’s immediately obvious that Finn takes his inspiration from Coltrane’s post-1965 output, but he has somehow emerged from that powerful, turbulent body of work with a style of unusual clarity and directness. He builds high-spiring musical edifices brick by brick, finding solid ground even within the most violent and unstable of musical situations. His sound is so powerful it’s almost a physical presence, even on a recording, and he has a command of altissimo playing few saxophonists can match: “A Weathered Spirit Resolute,” on his second disc, Faith in a Seed (CIMP, 2004), contains one of the most fearsomely skyscraping climaxes in modern jazz. There are many free-jazz musicians who push at the boundaries of spiritual/musical ecstasy, but Finn’s ability to do so while remaining supremely articulate is rare, and not a little unnerving.
How did such a player go unrecorded till now? “For most of my life,” says Finn, “I’ve either been in the NYC trenches working or off the scene – traveling, teaching, engaged in spiritual retreat, or touring.” Born in 1956 in Brooklyn, New York, into a large Irish-Italian family, he quickly settled on a musical career after a false start on a business degree. A 1978 “Bebop Battle” in Albany between Nick Brignola and JR Monterose had a profound impact, prompting Finn to go to Monterose for lessons: “He pushed away the microphone, because he hated microphones and electricity, and blew acoustically in this large auditorium. JR played with such a personal style and with so much heart and soul. The thing that especially knocked me out was when he played a ballad. JR was my favorite balladeer. He used to say, ‘Freedom is a privilege to be earned. You have to learn the rules before you can break them.’”
Over the years Finn paid his dues in countless blues, R&B and funk bands, which gave added incentive to high-register playing: “the third and fourth octaves of the tenor saxophone are sometimes the only notes that can be heard over cranked guitars and bashing drums.” But he already had “the sound of the Holy Ghost in my ear,” though his free-jazz playing was confined to informal sessions with like-minded musicians. A move to upstate New York brought him in contact with pianist John Esposito and the tragic figure of Arthur Rhames. Rhames – a brilliant Coltrane-influenced saxophonist/pianist/guitarist who died from AIDS at age 32 – became a frequent playing partner: a 45-minute version of “The Star-Spangled Banner” from a July 4th rooftop performance with Rhames remains one of Finn’s most vivid memories. In the 1980s and 1990s Finn completed music degrees that gave him the chance to study with Andrew Cyrille, Jimmy Heath, and Sir Roland Hanna; he also investigated Eastern and Western religious traditions, studying with the Lakota medicine man Izzy Heartman, healer/interfaith minister Bella Salerno, and Chinese Master T.K. Shih. He began saving up money: “By 2003, I had saved enough to set up a recording system in my studio apartment. I had seen so many great musicians who had passed leaving behind so few recordings – musicians like Arthur Rhames, Clyde Criner, Rob Leon, Eddie Robinson and JR Monterose. I wanted to leave this world with evidence that I really did live and that I really did have something to say, to contribute. I wanted to leave the world with something good.”
Finn’s newest studio disc, Plaza de Toros (Clean Feed, 2005), features a trio with Duval and drummer Warren Smith; compared to his other albums it’s a slow burn, its sombre Spanish-tinged themes shot through with a deep blues feeling. Finn calls it “a musical allegory” with multiple meanings: “Could the charging toro symbolize our inner struggles or demons ... or is it the elusive ego of the matador that keeps us from the clarity to live a life of peace and joy? Another viewpoint could be that the matador comes to realize, while trying to out maneuver this clever toro, that this bullfight was more than just ‘man conquering beast.’ As they each try to anticipate and outwit the other, it is revealed to him that their consciousnesses are in some way entwined.” Lately Finn has been experimenting with the trio format, subtracting the bass, adding a second drummer, playing flute and soprano sax in addition to tenor; the results are documented on a remarkable series of CDR releases on his own label, Gingko Leaf Records. The Last Matador and Into the Afterworld continue the saga of Plaza de Toros in a trio with Smith and drummer Klaus Kugel; other releases include a trio with Duval and drummer Newman Baker, In Stravinsky’s House, unusual for including a straightahead swinger, “There’s a Shadow of a Jazzman”; Inner Eye, with Smith and drummer Michael T.A. Thompson; and Live at the Via Della Pace, with Smith and Baker – “my first choice of trio,” Finn remarks. Recorded in the basement space of an Italian restaurant, it ends memorably after the police arrive to enforce a noise bylaw: at the recording’s end you can hear the restaurant owner calling a halt to the concert.
It has been a long, often difficult journey: Finn remembers how “in 1991, Jimmy Heath introduced me to Sonny Rollins as ‘one of those guys who had fallen through the cracks.’” But with the release of Opening the Gates and Plaza de Toros, he’s at last been making heads turn: “A friend recently said that I reminded him of the movie Seabiscuit – that I just needed a chance to show what I could do. They finally gave me a chance.” Current plans include expanding the two-drummer format into a larger percussion ensemble, and putting together a more composition-oriented group featuring his wife, soprano Jennifer Finn: “it may have strings, piano – again I’d like Warren to be a part of this project in some capacity, and of anything I do. He’s a joy to work with.” Finn has already become a player to watch; if future projects turn out as fruitful as his trios, he may well prove one of the most significant new voices in contemporary jazz.