Courtney Pine’s Masterful Jazz Brings Carnival Spirit and Stellar Musicianship to the Tung Auditorium

Let’s be clear from the outset: Courtney Pine is a master musician who has stretched what it is possible to achieve with various forms of saxophone, and has been widely recognised as such with well-earned honours and awards.

It may have been a well-deserved honour for him to be included in the A-Level music syllabus, though it remains beyond satire that – despite being the only Black composer so included – exam board Pearson Edexcel nevertheless thought it expedient to drop him during a slimming down apparently prompted by Covid, only for a huge outcry to result in his reinstatement.

Here, he surrounds himself with a treasure chest of talent, in the shape of Robert Fordjour on drums, Rio Kai on the bass, Deschanel Gordon on the piano, Chris Cobbson on guitar, and Samuel Dobois on steelpans. All brought their A-game, not least when allowed extended segments of improvisation. I can’t recall ever previously hearing any musicians improvise for so long, or so musically.

All shone on Claudia Jones, for example – a track celebrating the journalist from Trinidad who founded the Notting Hill Carnival; and anyone who, in the face of racist violence, conjures a world-class festival into being surely deserves to be celebrated.

From the Father to the Son was played with such verve it felt like part of that carnival (or perhaps one in New Orleans) had been transported into the Tung Auditorium, along with the sunshine.

A similarly sun-drenched nod to Jamaica – whence his parents hail – comes in the form of Pine’s composition Kingstonian Swing.

Several of the tunes featured appear on Pine’s aptly-titled 2009 album House of Legends, though they’re often stretched and warped into new shapes by extended solos showcasing the band members’ fluency, each in turn pushing the limits of the given tune without ever repeating themselves or tipping beyond breaking point.

Pine’s own solos take things even further, way beyond where you’d think the breaking point must surely be. I’d wager the Tung Auditorium has never before heard some of the notes he managed to wring from his instruments, nor heard so many notes played in quick succession, and never will again. The real beauty of this, though, lies not in the demonstration of such spectacular virtuosity, as impressive as that is, but in the fact that technique is never for a millisecond allowed to overshadow the wonderful musicality of what’s being played.

I’ve read that as a child, Courtney Pine wanted to be an astronaut. It’s tempting to think that it’s a similar ambition that propels him and his music into the stratosphere and beyond; but I think the answer lies closer to home: as he said himself at the start of this mesmeric concert, every note being played was played with love. One slightly awkward audience interaction aside, that’s exactly what came across.

A special mention for Mr Dobois: I genuinely didn’t know it was even possible for the steelpans to be played that well.

A mention also for the support act, Motormouf and the Engines – an ensemble apparently assembled more quickly than expected, who nevertheless brought some real risk-taking to their set. With that boldness – and the way it paid off – I’m sure Mr Pine would approve.