Linda May Han Oh: The Glass Hours
Biophilia Records

How do you know you've arrived as a contemporary jazz artist? Appearing as a musician in the recent animated film Soul might be one sign, as is being part of the ensemble that received a Grammy earlier this year for 'Best Instrumental Jazz Album,' as bassist Linda May Han Oh was for her contributions to Terri Lyne Carrington's New Standards Vol. 1. Stated otherwise, Oh's star is definitely in the ascendant, something to which the writing and performances on her latest album The Glass Hours testify. Since her debut album Entry arrived in 2009, the NYC-based bassist has steadily matured as a player, composer, and bandleader, with her accomplished new recording capturing her and her partners in bracing form.

Oh's worked with upper-tier artists such as Pat Metheny, Dave Douglas, Joe Lovano, and Geri Allen, but with releases like 2019's Aventurine and now The Glass Hours she's become someone others boast about playing with. On Aventurine, she augmented jazz instrumentalists with a string quartet and vocal ensemble; the number of musicians on the new one is smaller, but the music is no less ambitious and the quintet assembled to execute it terrific: joining Oh are tenor saxophonist Mark Turner, pianist Fabian Almazan, drummer Obed Calvaire, and, in a particularly striking move, vocalist Sara Serpa. The inclusion of voices (Oh's credited with backing vocals) distinguishes the recording from other jazz releases and also affords Oh the opportunity to address topics occupying her thoughts, things such as mortality, time, and social issues.

Calvaire, who played on Entry, pairs again with Oh, and the two power the quintet with a wellspring of energy and imagination (consider, for example, the fury they get up to in “Chimera”). The style of the album and quintet establishes itself early when “Circles” opens with serpentine lines delivered in unison by the leader, Turner, and Serpa. Calvaire skitters alongside, his invention matched by daring solos from Almazan and the robust, full-throated saxophonist. It's a roller coaster of a cut that despite its elasticity never feels less than grounded due to the connectedness between the players. Echoes of Coltrane and Shorter might surface in Turner's playing, but he's no clone, imposing as he does his own personality on Oh's material. She does the same in the agile double bass solo that elevates the tune's second half.

Many a piece abstractly slips and slides, but The Glass Hours isn't a one-note affair. Even with electronic touches sprinkled in, “Antiquity” opts for an elegant, floating character that suits Serpa's sung-spoken musings about the cyclical nature of the past. The rubato-esque meditation “Jus Ad Bellum” sees her wryly pontificating on war, hunger, peace, and heaven before the material morphs into an insistent march led by chant-like vocals and ostinato figures. In some respects it's the furthest thing from what's conventionally taken for jazz.

The intertwining of vocals, piano, and sax on the title track—this one featuring Oh on electric—makes for gripping listening, especially when Calvaire, Turner, and Almazan are at their freewheeling best. The tightness with which the ensemble executes Oh's material is shown in “The Imperative” and “Phosphorus,” jittery, frothy, and prototypically intricate adventures by the bassist. Coming after such frenetic pieces, the relative calm of the aptly titled “Respite” offers a welcome moment of repose—even if the pace does accelerate as the tune advances.

July 2023