Brian Slattery Photos
Halfway through the first number from the Zwelakhe-Duma Bell le Pere Quintet at Cafe Nine Wednesday night, the band already sounded like they’d be playing for hours. A first, highly energetic section of solos was winding down, and there was a brief pause in the music. As the others in the ensemble held a chord, drummer Ryan Sands stood up for a few seconds, just long enough to take off his coat, then hit the next beat without a hitch. It was a signal both that the music was getting hot, but also that the musicians were getting comfortable — as well they should.
Bassist Zwelakhe-Duma Bell le Pere was born in Johannesburg, South Africa and grew up in New Haven, attending Educational Center for the Arts and studying bass with Jeff Fuller. He then attended New England Conservatory, graduating from there with a masters degree. Since then he has traveled the world playing jazz festivals and snagging teaching gigs. But on Wednesday night he came home.
The quintet featured Bell le Pere on bass, Dakota Austin on alto saxophone, Ted Morcaldi on guitar, Michael Carabello on keys, and Ryan Sands on drums, which — Bell le Pere detailed later — constituted a crew of musicians who were essentially family to him. The bond was clear enough in the music itself, as the quintet tore through a set of Bell le Pere’s original compositions that was fierce and fiery right out of the gate and only deepened with each successive piece.
From the first moment, Bell le Pere, Sands, and Carabello formed a propulsive, supple rhythm while Austin and Morcaldi shared the piece’s opening statement. It was a long, unspooling melody that had something to say and, at the same time, offered plenty of space for exploration. The rhythm suddenly fell away, and Carabello was flying solo for a moment; then the rhythm switched to something spacier, and Austin took a ride, a long, arcing solo. On a signal from the bass, Sands took the energy up a notch, and he and Bell le Pere formed a driving foundation for Austin to dodge through Carabello’s stabbing chords. The energy climbed and climbed, and then fell away again, making way for a third section marked by a spacious solo from Morcaldi. Carabello had his turn as well, getting abstract by basing his solo on something close to a drone. Sands brought the energy back up again, and now the piece was back where it started. With another ride through the head — memorable, yet changed — the band had the rapt audience listening.
Bell le Pere smiled as the crowd applauded. “This will be a night of original compositions by myself,” he said. “Feel free to move your bodies. Touch your neighbor if they want. Enjoy yourself. With consent.” This comment was said with a wry tone that elicited laughter. The combination of seriousness of intent and lightness of execution characterized much of the evening that followed — starting with Bell le Pere introducing the second piece as being “about when I got arrested in Boston for being Black. Enjoy!”
As the quintet’s set progressed, Bell le Pere’s compelling compositional voice emerged clearly. He had a penchant from strong, deep, yet intricate rhythms, anchored by his own muscular bass playing; subtle shifts in dense harmonies; and long, lyrical melody lines. These elements combined to sometimes mesmerizing effect, and created a landscape that made the possibilities for soloing unusually free. The music thus expressed a wide range of emotion: joy, humor, anger, sadness, resignation, and hope flowed into one another, springing from the same well.
The second set started in a contemplative mood. Bell le Pere dedicated the first piece to the “lovers” out there. But halfway through the set, he also played a composition of his dedicated to a friend of his who called him one night at 3 a.m. “distraught,” he said. She was living in another, more repressive country, he said, where “she couldn’t be who she was,” and certain aspects of her identity were being lost.
For Bell le Pere, even beyond the empathy he felt for his friend, that was food for thought. “We all have our stories,” he said, hardships we face, but for the most part we in this country, or at least this part of it, had certain freedoms to speak our minds and live our lives that it was all too easy to take for granted.
“I’m so grateful to be here in New Haven, let alone expressing myself,” he said. The audience was clearly grateful for that, too.