John Coltrane
Olè Coltrane

LA RECENSIONE

Consecration, liberation, ascension. 1961 was the year of grace for John William Coltrane.

He was now free from the clutches of drugs (<<...I experienced, by the grace of God, a spiritual awakening... out of gratitude, I asked for the means to make others happy through music...>>), recognized even by the most conservative critics, acclaimed by the crowds. The triumphant recording of "Giant Steps", but even more so of "My Favourite Things" and "Summertime", made just a few months earlier, gave him for the first time the opportunity to decide his own artistic path.

The introverted boy from Hamlet was now ready to soar to even more challenging heights. 1961. The contract with Atlantic expired right at the beginning of that year; the transition to Impulse gave Trane not only an extra dose of dollars but also the freedom to explore those universes that would define his style for the rest of his career, the Supreme Loves, India, Africa. Right in the middle of recording "Africa/Brass", right in the middle of divine work, a petty clause of the contract with Atlantic emerges: bureaucracy speaks even more clearly than art, and an album needs to be turned out for the old label, and right away. Two days, I say two, and the most mundane of hiccups produces one of the brightest musical episodes of the past century.

"Olé Coltrane" is evidently a miracle. The first track, "Olé", confirms the state of superhuman grace John can elevate himself to every time he scents Spain, just consider the heartrending solo of "Flamenco Sketches". But here it goes well beyond. The distinctly improvisational nature of the suite leads Coltrane to venture into the Unexplored, a leap into the void lasting 20 minutes, an endless fever, a piercing scream, an everlasting shiver, the triumph of Chaos, or Chance. And to the latter one owes the extraordinary combination of individuals who composed those epochal recording sessions between May and June of the aforementioned 1961.
McCoy Tyner and Elvin Jones we already know, they will have much more to share with our man in the years to come, and they’re here to provide us with quartet pre-litteram rhythm gems. Speaking of the splendid trumpet of Freddie Hubbard, yet another facet of the miracle is the double bass of Reggie Workman and Art Davis, protagonists, still in "Olé", of a explosive double-solo that trespasses into absolutely violin-like sounds. A pearl, or if you prefer, a delirium.

Chaos and Chance then agreed on the presence in the project of monsieur Eric Dolphy (well, but don’t tell those at Atlantic though, due to obscure clauses our friend appears under the pseudonym George Lane, bah, their business, from now on that’s how we’ll call him), a spirit akin to Coltrane, his great friend, exploration companion, and leap into the void. Never was Lane’s presence more opportune, the chirps of the alto sax, but especially of the flute, traverse the improvisational experience with the skill of someone who never had anything to lose or to prove. The fourth and final track is a somewhat tipsy dialogue between the two, two happy kids, with hands still sticky with jam.

I like to imagine those two crazy guys, in those two days 45 years ago, free from any restraint, conspiring miracles and rejoicing in it, with lightness. Olé.