Above : Patrick Bartley
In presenting the extraordinary African American alto saxophonist Patrick Bartley at Cremorne Orpheum in Sydney on August 29 – the opening concert of Bartley’s Australian tour – multi-instrumentalist James Morrison was on a winner from the first note played. This is not unusual for Morrison, who has a habit of fashioning his concerts so capably and intelligently, that they usually work well. His concerts, which are invariably sold out, as this one was, are determinedly adventurous – there’s no doubt in my mind about this – and I’ll do my best to decipher the elements on this occasion which were keys to the concert’s success.
Morrison’s normal quartet was only partly on hand at this gig. Other than himself (trumpet, flugelhorn, trombone & piano), Morrison was joined by William Morrison (guitar, vocals) and Patrick Danao (drums). Absent was his regular bassist Harry Morrison, courtesy I understand of a broken foot, which meant he was unable to walk, let alone carry his double bass. He was replaced here by the more than capable, indeed brilliant, double bassist Jonathan Zwartz. Add Patrick Bartley to this line-up, and a superb quintet was on stage to give us, as we were to discover, a most memorable performance.
Bartley is said to possess virtuosic technique and an expressive vocal-like sound. An alto specialist, who apparently does not double on other instruments, he’s been likened to previous alto greats such as Charlie Parker and Cannonball Adderley. Also, it’s not inconsiderable that Bartley has what is called perfect pitch, which Wikipedia defines as “the rare ability to identify or sing a specific musical note by name instantly, without needing any external reference note or tuning tool”. Bartley is apparently blessed with this unusual gift which emanates from natural ability; it’s not a skill which a musician can learn.
The band opened with the great Harold Arlen/Ted Koehler composition of 1932 I’ve Got The World On a String. Immediately Bartley, who took the first solo, threw down the gauntlet with an astonishing solo. It was as if he was issuing a challenge to the other musicians and inviting a musical contest. This sort of competitive spirit has always been present in jazz, but one rarely encounters it so blatantly as on this occasion. This is the sort of competition which personally I love, and which I believe James Morrison thrives on, so I felt we were destined for an unforgettable performance, which turned out to be the case.
After the first number Morrison spoke to the audience at length, partly to introduce the interloper Zwartz, but also, as Morrison traditionally does, to relate a story which illustrates why a particular composition is to be played. In this case, it was the classic Take The A Train, written by Billy Strayhorn in 1939. Morrison said that the music for this piece was rescued from a rubbish bin in that year after Strayhorn had thrown it away, thinking that the tune didn’t work. Ironically, this great tune was to become the signature theme for the rest of the Duke Ellington Orchestra’s long life.
Morrison then moved to the piano and played an introduction which indicated that Take The A Train would be done as a slow ballad, a somewhat extraordinary decision as this tune invariably utilises a swinging tempo in four. I’ve never heard this tune done as a slow ballad. One immediately wondered: would this work? Would the musicians be able to inject life into the harmonic changes of this piece, at such a dead slow tempo?
Well, the answer was pretty clear without much ado. All the musicians triumphantly came to the party. Bartley, in only his second solo on the night, played once again an unforgettable solo, balancing understatement with ravishing technique. I felt that one of the most gratifying elements in his improvisations was his sense of space. I was convinced that I was hearing, not for the first time, echoes of Johnny Hodges in his tone here and there throughout the solo. On piano Morrison encouraged the rhythm section to build up to a full-blooded 12/8 feel, not unlike what one hears in the R & B genre. In a nutshell, Morrison deliberately put the members of his band on a knife-edge and, as it inevitably came together, any doubt as to the band’s ability to cope with this adventurous approach faded quickly.
To my mind, this version of Take The A Train was a clear illustration of Morrison’s adventurous spirit. Only a musician with absolute confidence in the musicians around him would have attempted such a high-risk gamble. Take The A Train as a slow ballad? Think about it. Of course Morrison’s confidence is fortified by the fact that every member of his band is good enough to respond to such a challenge.
Next was the Horace Silver work of 1959 Sister Sadie, taken at a bright clip, and featuring the brilliant sound of alto and trumpet playing the melody in unison. This gospel-tinged composition, very typical of Silver’s oeuvre, cries out for riffs behind the solos and we heard plenty of them. Solos were spread around throughout the band, and the four-bar breaks, then two-bar breaks between Bartley and the two Morrisons were breathtaking.
In James Morrison gigs these days, it’s never long before the guitarist William Morrison is invited to perform, and this time he sang For All We Know, a lovely tune which dates back to 1934. It’s been recorded since then by umpteen jazz artists. In accordance with Morrison’s penchant to provide variety in his program, he asked Danao and Zwartz to take a spell, so that William’s vocal was backed solely by his father on piano and Bartley. Since he emerged as a serious singer circa 2023, William Morrison has become more and more essential to the Morrison band’s success. He is in fact a very fine singer – a guaranteed crowd-pleaser with a habit of going up into his falsetto during his final chorus, which audiences always find uplifting.
To close the first set, the full band was back on stage for what is known as a“contrafact” – the practice of playing a new melody which has been written over the harmonic structure of an already existing tune. Although this practice is well-known in jazz, I’m indebted to James Morrison for introducing the term “contrafact” to me for the first time at a gig in The Lounge, Chatswood in 2025. On this occasion at Cremorne Orpheum, the band played simultaneously, at a very bright clip, the standard (Back Home Again In) Indiana, which dates back to 1917, and the contrafact entitled Donna Lee. The latter was written in 1947 by either Charlie Parker or Miles Davis; authorship is disputed. However, withering improvisations were played by all musicians over this harmonic structure to bring the first set to a climactic close.
If one looks at the years in which the five compositions in the first set were written, one gets an insight into the nature of Morrison’s characteristic programs. Notice those years: 1932, 1939, 1959, 1934, 1917, 1947. It’s clear that Morrison prefers to play songs from the Great American Songbook or well-known jazz standards. Some might regard this approach as old-fashioned. Of the repertoire played so far at this gig, the most modern was Horace Silver’s Sister Sadie, written 59 years ago. What this tells me, however, is something that should not be missed: that the year in which such compositions were written is not significant to Morrison; what is significant in his mind is how they are played by the musicians. It is the treatment of such compositions which is significant, and gives this form of jazz its compelling attraction.
The second set was opened with the standard Pennies From Heaven, written in 1936, and recorded by Billie Holiday amongst others in the same year. Morrison was on flugelhorn this time. This was followed by something of a departure with the inclusion of the lovely Luiz Bonfá composition Manhã de Carnaval, written in 1959, and often known as the theme from the film Black Orpheus. This time Morrison was on trombone. He stayed on trombone for the next tune, a reversion to the well-known standard On The Sunny Side of the Street, written in 1930 by the composers Jimmy McHugh and Dorothy Fields.
By this time, the standing ovation which has become de rigueur for James Morrison performances seemed inevitable. Morrison and his distinguished colleague Patrick Bartley had the audience won over, indeed eating out of their hands. As a matter of interest, the friend who accompanied me to this gig had told me earlier that, owing to transport difficulties, it was unlikely that he’d be able to stay for the second set. Unexpectedly, and despite his initial reluctance, he was so enamoured with the great performance he was experiencing, he now chose to stay to the very end.
What appeared to be the final number was the standard Cherokee, written by the British composer and bandleader Ray Noble, and published in 1938. Taken at breakneck speed by Morrison and Bartley, it featured withering solos from all members of the quintet, and was a fitting number to close the gig on a level of genuine excitement.
An encore was of course compulsory, and it was another vocal from William Morrison, Georgia On My Mind, written by Hoagy Carmichael in 1930. James Morrison began on piano, accompanying William while he sang the first half ad lib, before going into tempo at the bridge, with “Other arms reach out to me…” Once again, a full-blooded 12/8 feel was adopted by the rhythm section, before James transferred to trumpet for one of his growling signature solos, using his cup mute to advantage.
Needless to say, the expected standing ovation took place, which brought to a close a splendid night of jazz. The inimitable African American alto saxophonist Patrick Bartley was accompanied by four truly great Australian musicians. This was a performance which I’ll long remember.
This performance at the Cremorne Orpheum Theatre took place on Saturday, August 29, 2026. It featured the James Morrison Quartet, including Morrison (trumpet, flugelhorn, trombone & piano), William Morrison (guitar, vocals), Jonathan Zwartz (double bass) and Patrick Danao (drums). They were joined by the African American alto saxophonist Patrick Bartley in the first performance of his Australian tour.
