Ryan Keberle & Catharsis: The Hope I Hold
Greenleaf Music

Choosing hope over despair, trombonist Ryan Keberle clings to the possibility that better times lie ahead. That's reflected not only in the title of this latest set from him and his Catharsis troupe but in the optimistic tone that permeates the material, a tone earlier evidenced on the 2017 Catharsis release, Find the Common, Shine a Light. That spirit is directly expressed in the words sung by Camila Meza on the album, lyrics that also include material drawn from Langston Hughes's 1935 poem “Let America Be America Again.” Consistent with Keberle's vision, Hughes's work is infused with idealism, despite its wry acknowledgment of the hardships suffered by those for whom the American Dream has proven to be, well, more illusion than reality. Ultimately, Keberle holds to the belief that music doesn't merely have the capacity to effect positive change but that it can also unite people across ideological, religious, economic, and racial lines.

Lest one presume, however, that The Hope I Hold is some too-solemn affair weighed down by political content, Keberle and company lift the spirits with an uplifting collection filled with melodic splendour, engaging rhythms, and inspired performances. Two iterations of Catharsis appear, one the full outfit and the other a trio featuring Keberle (trombone, keyboards, vocals), the wondrous Meza (guitar, vocals), and Peruvian-born bassist Jorge Roeder. Without wishing to argue against the tracks featuring tenor saxist Scott Robinson and drummer Eric Doob, it's the four Catharsis Trio tracks that resonate most powerfully. It's in this latter configuration that the incandescent voice of the Chilean singer, the singing tone of the leader's horn, and the agile counterpoint by the bassist are captured most clearly.

Speaking of buoyed, many a cut's elevated by a South American flavour (see “Despite the Dream” and its distinctive samba rhythm) and, in particular, the music of Brazil. No doubt some of that came about through extensive touring by Keberle during a recent sabbatical from Hunter College, where he's been the director of jazz studies for sixteen years. That year-long break allowed him and his bandmates to travel through rural parts of the US and cities in Europe, Brazil, Cuba, and Japan.

With lyrics derived from Hughes's poem, “Tangled in the Ancient Endless Chain” begins the album on a seemingly less-than-hopeful note, with Meza singing “I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart / I am the Negro bearing slavery's scars.” But by positioning it first, Keberle implicitly suggests that acts of rising are invariably preceded by struggle and oppression. No slouch in the keyboards department, he initiates the track with rolling waves of piano before the full band enters, Meza's wordless voice gliding across a base of cymbal washes and Robinson's musings. When the song proper takes shape, she lifts the music's Latin-tinged swing with a sultry vocal, her free-flowing delivery a sharp counterpoint to the downtrodden character of the words. Keberle also introduces the subsequent “Despite the Dream” but this time with characteristically mellifluous trombone playing. Meza again distinguishes the song with her beautiful, pure voice, the lyrics this time carrying with them the belief that salvation's possible, even if it hasn't yet arrived (“O, let America be America again...”); with her guitar tinged with raw distortion, the dirge-like conclusion to the Hughes-related trilogy, “America Will Be,” appears, tentatively triumphant in imagining a future land “where Liberty / Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath.”

The heaviness of that opening suite is countered by the brighter mood of the material that follows. The luscious colours and soothing rhythms of “Fooled and Pushed Apart” prove energizing, the shift to a full instrumental presentation (wordless vocals aside) not unwelcome after the lyrics-heavy focus of the opening tracks. Meza's own “Para Volar” inaugurates the trio section of the recording, the stripped-down presentation affording a wonderful chance to savour the loveliness of her singing and the lithe interplay between trombone, voice, guitar, and bass. Roeder also contributes compositionally, specifically the languorous “Peering,” which grants Keberle space for some of his more endearing playing. The poignant ballad “Zamba de Lozano,” with lyrics by Manuel Jose Castillo and music by Argentinean folksinger Gustavo “Cuchi” Leguizamon, calls forth one of Meza's most affecting vocal turns. A resplendent trio arrangement of Keberle's “Become the Water” (lyrics by Mantsa Miro) caps the trio component, with Meza and the leader teasing the ears with harmony vocals.

As expected, Keberle contributes a number of stellar solos to the tracks, and there's an appealing softness to Robinson's sax playing that at times begs comparison to Joe Lovano. However, the band's not-so-secret weapon has to be Meza, whose guitar and voice (sometimes heard deliciously in unison) make this album something truly special. The Hope I Hold is a more than satisfying release, then, from Keberle, and one that's even better for presenting two versions of the Catharsis outfit. The trio performances in particular are so great, he might be wise to consider issuing an entire album by the sub-unit.

September 2019