Producer Jimmy Katz’s decades of experience with the art of jazz have culminated in the establishment of an innovative organization that has attained a unique standard of generosity for leading-edge musicians. Giant Step Arts, which Katz and his wife Dena established in 2018, assists its roster of jazz musicians with the recording and production of albums, with retaining the rights to their recordings, with promotional photographs and PR expertise, and with physical CD’s and digital downloads that the artists can sell.

Significantly, donations to Giant Step Arts help relieve jazz musicians’ financial burdens, allowing them to develop artistic works without commercial pressure. In addition, the donations provide wherewithal for performance opportunities.

Two significant achievements of the non-profit jazz organization’s process have been realized with the releases of trumpeter Jason Palmer’s The Cross Over: Live in Brooklyn and The Fury’s Live in Brooklyn. Palmer’s natural talent, keen intelligence, and extensive experience have established him as the label’s primary musician. The Cross Over represents his fourth release on the label, which already has developed a distinguished discography. The label’s most recent recordings maintain the commitment to excellence shared by everyone involved in them.

Palmer’s two-disk album offers over two hours of advanced jazz, remarkable for its compositional innovations; for its comprehensive and detailed understandings of the music’s possibilities for fervently performed ideas; and for its musicianship at the highest level. In addition, Palmer has put much thought into his own nine compositions to shape them for the audience’s reception; to develop the album’s thematic consistency; and to showcase the individual talents of the contemporary master musicians comprising his quartet. Palmer’s adherence to his own high standards required a year of composition and refinement, as well as musical and thematic consistency, before recording the album.

Each of Palmer’s compositions drew from inspirations by respected cultural icons such as Wayne Shorter or Cornel West, or they musically addressed an urgent subject. For example, “Same Bird” doesn’t refer to Charlie Parker, as a jazz listener would expect, particularly because the album was recorded live at a nightclub called Ornithology. Rather, it commonsensically observes that both the right wing and the left wing of an electorate—and by extension, of a nation—are necessary to support the flight of the same bird. In this case, the bird may be the bald eagle.

The album’s astounding moments, advanced musical technique, and mutual support elevate The Cross Over to a level of exceptionalism that jazz listeners may expect by now—but which nonetheless still may cause jaws to drop.

Jaws within the Ornithology Jazz Club may have dropped during the opening of the first piece, “B.A.M.D. (Budgets Are Moral Documents),” when Palmer’s solo introduction takes flight as he not only prepares the members of the audience for the musical event that follows. It also reminds them of his individualistic virtuosity of darting outlines of phrases, effortless ascents, and descending cascades throughout his broad range, dynamic variations, and pinpoint articulation. Even though drummer Marcus Gilmore comes in to provide rhythmic textures at 2:12 and bassist Larry Grenadier at 4:36, the fullness of the quartet’s extraordinary talent doesn’t become evident until 4:56. That’s when tenor saxophonist Mark Turner joins in to harmonize with Palmer the composed theme. Improvisations start after the superb six-minute build-up.

The connected values of this album and of Giant Step Arts’s vision combine to capture the excitement and naturalism and interactivity of live performances—most of which evaporate once the notes are performed—at high levels of artistry.

The multiple ornithological allusions of the next piece, “Same Bird,” arise from Palmer’s complex yet catchy harmonically unpredictable first choruses. Gilmore embellishes it six-eight meter with occasional cymbal splashes and soft wood block interjections. Palmer and Turner perform the inventive dual harmonies outlining the melody. Its darting and upper-register warbles and rising two-note phrases end drolly in a quick fluttering, spiraling, rhythmless fall. As expected, masterful improvisations follow.

The fact that Palmer’s group includes no chorded instruments highlights the strengths of the individualistic solos. Plus, it benefits the musical avian-like intertwined dialogue between him and Turner that has evolved over twenty years. Palmer has said, “I’ve been a student of Mark’s music since I became aware of him in the early 2000’s. I always feel like a better musician once I’ve internalized a new piece by him.”

All the other tracks exceed “Do You Know Who YOU Are? (A Line for Dr. C West)’s” eleven-plus minutes. Unmistakable are Palmer’s and Turner’s abilities to interpret and elaborate upon a motive with calm authority. As they support the exceptional work on trumpet and tenor sax, Grenadier and Gilmore, through their solos and their accompaniments, establish and maintain the tracks’ inimitable attitudes for reinforcing the themes established by their titles.

An important advantage of recording the entire set consists of the relaxed expansions of ideas. As with “B.A.M.D.,” “One for Fannie Lou” opens with another of Palmer’s extended motivic previews through scalar descents, brief melodic phrasing, and effortless intervals within the entire range of the instrument.

Not only does Palmer provide exciting introductions. So do Grenadier and Gilmore: Grenadier for two minutes on “The Cross Over (A Blues for A.I.)”; and Gilmore for 2-3/4 minutes on “Beware of Captain America (A Line for Wayne Shorter),” and for three minutes on “More in Common.” Both masterfully incorporate their instruments’ unique sonorities for immediately capturing and retaining the audience’s attention while they build momentum for the quartet’s extended performances that follow. The rhythm section’s ability to craft engaging solos makes clear that this is a quartet of equals.

Palmer and Turner’s harmonic telepathy, not to mention their unique improvisational imaginations, establish a continuing unmistakable characteristic of The Cross Over that distinguishes it as one of the year’s important albums.

“For the Freedom Fighters (Those Who Fight to Keep the Dream Alive)” commences with the horns’ tight winding harmonies, as if they’re a prelude to an event. That characteristic, musically performed, builds upon the initial four-note double ascent. Then, Turner develops his own three-minute musical tale of varying dispositions characterized by intervallic leaps or tornadic swirls or upsweeps from a comforting middle-range phrase to an altissimo exclamation. These elements contribute to help define Turner’s technique admired among saxophonists. In contrast, Palmer, despite the intensity of his solos on other tracks, chooses to understate with even dynamics in a middle range during his four-minute improvisation. Grenadier completes the rotation of solos with a melodic interpretation of quickened and then slowed lines, pedal points, and repeated descending intervals delivered with resonant lucidity. At 9:54, the group blends again for the restatement of Palmer’s written theme.

Palmer’s emotional and technically brilliant prelude for “One for Fannie Lou,” in its own artistic way, compensates for the physical abuse and disrespect that Fannie Lou Hamer received during her lifetime. Even more compassionate compensation comes from the quartet’s entire 17-minute performance, which is a reminder of Hamer’s unflagging struggles for human rights. As one of his final acts as President, Joe Biden posthumously awarded Hamer the Presidential Medal of Freedom in January 2025. At 3:24 of “One for Fannie Lou,” the rhythm section enters to add texture and more complex colors. Turner brightens them even more when he comes in at 4:29 for like-minded harmonization, winding polyphony, and a call-and-response.

The impressiveness of Giant Step Arts’s commitment to influential recordings redoubles with the release in the same month of The Fury’s album, Live in Brooklyn, which was recorded coincidentally, or perhaps concomitantly, at Ornithology too. Another quartet of equals who have firmly established their own musical personalities, The Fury substitutes Lage Lund’s guitar for Jason Palmer’s trumpet.

Even though Turner performs on both albums, their contrasts of textures inspire the saxophonist to explore additional avenues and to expand upon even more ideas. Always evolving and analyzing his performances, Turner, more than once, has expressed his humility, which puzzles listeners who admire his readily identifiable sound. Turner has said, “I’m sure I was mediocre at Berklee. I was ordinary. Maybe I still am.” Or: “I’m not naturally talented. I have to pay extra attention to the craft to be able to credibly and inventively play music.” Or, again: “Let me put it this way. I’m not talented. It’s not easy for me.”

Let me put it this way. Turner is talented.

The worldwide jazz community agrees. Just one example is the five-star DownBeat review for Live at the Village Vanguard by the Mark Turner Quartet (recorded with Jason Palmer and also released by Giant Step Arts). The review states that Turner’s quartet “is worthy of chasing Coleman, Coltrane, and Shorter on the short list of storied saxophone-led quartets.”

Perhaps Turner’s striving to improve what he hears when he listens to his recordings spurs him to embrace new—and perhaps even more advanced—ideas that, in growing combinations, have developed what is now known at the “Mark Turner style.”

The collective’s members have said that The Fury’s name derives from the title of William Faulkner’s novel. Presumably, it doesn’t also refer to MacBeth’s soliloquy of existential nihilism.

Still, “The Fury” accurately self-describes the underlying dynamic that animates the originality of these pioneering jazz musicians’ individual approaches…and their collective style. Live in Brooklyn realizes the goal of the collective’s members—Turner, Lund, bassist Matt Brewer, and drummer Tyshawn Sorey—finally to record as a group, even though they had performed individually for years in other circumstances.

Lund’s three pieces in the second half of the album form its compositional core. The additional works by Turner and Brewer remain woven within the same sonic fabric, the recording incorporating a central thematic concept from like-minded musicians.

Lund’s “Couch” is a case in point. Its sauntering calmness, though of oblique harmonization, overlays the less evident furiousness driving the piece, its musical contrasts providing the tension continuing throughout the performance. Lund’s fluid attention to textures, rather than straightforward melodic deliveries or reliance on chords, captures immediate notice and demonstrates that he deserves the praise that his style, unique as well, deserves. Turner’s solo contributes to the richness. Brewer and Sorey lead the sound with compressed elements of their fury road that complement Lund’s and Turner’s ease.

“Jimbo” follows. Lund’s composition consists, more than “Couch” does, of staccato note repetition, intervallic leaps, twisting single-line improvisations, and more direct percussive agitation. Brewer’s solo of resonant virtuosity, delivered with narrative clarity, is in line with his ability to tell a musical story.

Lund’s third contribution to Live in Brooklyn, “Vignette,” unfolds from a quiet prism of muted colors until the guitar’s chimes at :35 subtly change the mood. Turner continues the composition’s reassuring lines until his improvisation of loosened rhythms, to which Sorey responds and upon which he expands. Throughout the track’s 13 minutes, leisurely solos, played without time constraints, continue the effecting disparities between rhythmic stirrings and written coolness.

Brewer wrote “Of Our Time” for the occasion. Its apparent serenity, with an emotional bearing similar to Lund’s pieces, also seems to be at odds with the ferocity usually associated with the collective’s name. Then the thought occurs that “the fury” is synonymous with “the passion”—the soulful engagement—that energizes their sound. “The sound and the passion.” “The music and the fury.”

Turner’s “Ender’s Game” begins with Lund’s haunting rubato introduction, accented by Brewer’s and Sorey’s pulsating patterns, until at :22 Turner delivers the composition’s elegant thematic lines. Notably, instead of an abrupt ending to Lund’s lead-in of sustained ringing tones, the guitarist keeps proceeding. A woven interplay develops with Turner’s delivery. But like all great jazz groups, Brewer and Sorey magnify the ideas within the composition by traveling down their own seemingly separate, but in reality contributory, musical avenues. The result is an astounding accomplishment of contrapuntal telepathy among some of this generation’s top musicians. While their routes may be distinctively different, their direction is solidly the same. Lund, Brewer, and Sorey follow Turner’s lead as the intensity increases to a climax at 4:15—which is emphasized by Sorey’s crashing cymbals and relieved by the audience’s shouts. The mood immediately eases to a more relaxed groove that leads to another of Brewer’s imaginative solos of masterful technical prowess and precision of articulation.

Brewer commences “Sonnet for Stevie” with a solo that, at 2:16, fades respectfully with double stops into Lund’s gossamer shimmering. Then the quartet performs Turner’s melody over Brewer’s walking bass lines. As the improvisations proceed, Brewer’s and Sorey’s rhythms become more complex with unanticipated accents mixed in with the inherent swing.

The album begins with—though this review ends with—“Like a Flower Seeking the Sun” from the 1999 album of the same name by another ever-searching saxophonist, Myron Walden, a friend through several decades of Turner’s. After first recording the tune on his Dharma Days album, Turner re-examines it with The Fury to announce the quartet to its audiences. Without elaborate reinterpretation, The Fury acquaints “Like a Flower Seeking the Sun” to another generation as a touchstone presentation suggesting the admirable qualities of the artists’ compositions that follow throughout the evening at the Ornithology Jazz Club off Bushwick Avenue in Brooklyn.

Jason Palmer’s The Cross Over: Live in Brooklyn and The Fury’s Live in Brooklyn further affirm Giant Step Arts’s dedication to production quality, and to advancing the art of jazz. They also further affirm the talents of some of this generation’s premier jazz musicians.

Both albums, like the Mark Turner Quartet’s Live at the Village Vanguard, deserve five stars.

Artists’ Web Sites: https://www.instagram.com/matthewcbrewer/
https://www.facebook.com/Marcusgilmoredrum/
https://larrygrenadier.com/
https://www.lagelund.com/
www.jasonpalmermusic.com
https://www.tyshawnsorey.com/
https://www.facebook.com/markturnerjazz/

Label’s Web Site: giantsteparts.org