Hank Roberts Sextet: Science of Love
Sunnyside Records

I've loved Hank Roberts' cello playing since first hearing him years ago as a member of Bill Frisell's quartet with Mark Dresser and Joey Baron. Of course in that band the compositions were the leader's, so it was only with the release of Roberts' own albums—Black Pastels, Birds of Prey, Little Motor People, et al.—that we've come to know him as a composer too. Like Tim Berne, another special artist with whom he's played (in the trio Miniature and elsewhere), Roberts hews to his own intrepid and idiosyncratic path; further to that, he shares with the saxophonist an appetite for labyrinthine melodic patterns and intricate compositional forms.

His latest effort came together after he returned to New York City in 2015 after raising a family in Ithaca. Inspired by the energy of the city, compositional ideas came quickly, with material on Science of Love begun before the move blossoming after it. The formation of what would become the Hank Roberts Sextet happened through chance meetings and a growing network of connections, with trombonist Brian Drye, violinist Dana Lynn, woodwinds player Mike McGinnis (clarinet, soprano saxophone), pianist Jacob Sacks, and drummer Vinnie Sperrazza all gradually climbing aboard. The combination of strings, piano, horn, percussion, and woodwinds supports Roberts' contention that the sextet's playing can approximate that of “a small orchestra”; more importantly, it allows Roberts to explore a large palette of timbres and textures in arrangements for the group. Certainly the chamber orchestra-like potential of the group is realized in “Levity Village,” though it's hardly the only time that happens on the recording.

As mentioned, Roberts has an appetite for complex forms, and certainly the three pieces performed—the middle one a fourteen-part suite—are intricately structured. Yet the cellist also knew that with players of such calibre involved improvisational opportunities had to be included to maximize the unit's potential. A number of track titles are enigmatic—“Shifting Paradigms In Pre GLC 3” and “GLC Magnetic Floating Stripper” are indicative of the style—but it's the performances that matter most and in that regard the album holds up well.

Though its title initially mystifies, “Sat/Sun Pa Tu X” is so named because it expands on “Saturday/Sunday” from 1993's Little Motor People. The opener captures the band in good form as they ride a rousing groove and collectively shape the performance into a freewheeling hellraiser that exudes the robust swing and wail of a New Orleans ensemble. The wistful, album-closing “205,” on the other hand, opts for chamber-styled delicacy, the dramatic contrast between the tracks illustrating the dynamic range of which the sextet is capable.

The suite G, which originated as a small piece but eventually grew into the fourteen-limbed entity presented, never sits in one place for long when all but one of its parts are in the one- to four-minute range (only the penultimate “B45 L” departs from the pattern in lasting close to thirteen minutes). The material advances through ensemble and solo episodes, with “One Floor Axis,” for example, spotlighting Sacks alone; changing instrument configurations also add interest, with “Equatorial Conductivity” an improv-styled exploration featuring strings and piano and “Earth Sky Realms” arranged for cello, piano, and drums. Memorable moments include McGinnis elevating the lurch of “GLC Magnetic Floating Stripper” with a no-holds-barred soprano saxophone solo, and the blustery duet between Drye and Roberts in “B45 L” that grows into a magnificent, full ensemble blowout.

August 2021