Retro Reviews: John Coltrane: Meditations

 

    I decided to launch a new series to imagine myself as a critic at the end of the 60s and start of the 70s, and to rectify certain reviews from Rolling Stone magazine and Creem. This not meant to be contrarian, but to offer a more balanced perspective. Some of the albums reviewed are lesser known titles.

John Coltrane - Meditations (1966)

*****

Producer: Bob Thiele

Musicians: John Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders, McCoy Tyner, Jimmy Garrison, Elvin Jones, Rashied Ali

Music: The Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, Compassion, Love, Consequences, Serenity

Reviewed by Matthew Anthony Allair

    Expressions of spirituality is a challenging thing, whole swaths of past Classical composers dedicated themselves to expressions of faith via music. Duke Ellington less than a decade before built Black, Brown & Beige around the issue of faith. John Coltrane had explored similar themes with A Love Supreme in sixty-four, yet this new album might be the spiritual follow up. John’s direction and new album isn’t a surprise if you have followed his work with Impulse. Even in his time with Atlantic, John was dropping hints he was searching for something new. John’s association with Eric Dolphy, a figure who left us far too soon, had an impact on him and he been a session player on Ole and African / Brass in Sixty-One, in spite of the fact that John had recorded more conventional material for Impulse, namely his Ballads and his collaboration with Johnny Hartman, he was interested in expanding his expression. Earlier in the year we saw Ascension a large ensemble with the theme of the resurrection of Christ. This is merely the culmination of where Mr. Coltrane is.

    The opening moments of “The Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost” is a litmus test, John and Pharoah’s horns sound like some eastern trial chant at the outset, moments later John states the melody, but it sounds like cries for peace in an unstable world. Some of what John is doing is no different from what he was doing in 1959 with “Giant Steps”, but the form and medium have changed, and it might be difficult to digest for some. The piano and percussion have almost no relation to what John is playing. Everything I am writing is just within the first two minutes, it slowly morphs into sounding like chaos – like the big bang, creation, like those terrifying moments of existence in the swirl of fire before the gases form into suns, a reminder that violence is part of any creation. John and Pharoah’s playing turns into squeaks and wails, but this is an intentional device.

    Often new players have no Embouchure or breath control, hence why you often get the squeaks and flat notes. John is using these issues to evoke an emotion. At times, it sounds like human screams, or like the guitar feedback I have been hearing from some rock musicians. This carries on for the bulk of the number, it is unsettling, as much as structure falls in and out of the number. This isn’t for the faint of heart. Which is why the next piece is a welcome change of pace. There’s a kind of more formal quality behind “Compassion”, with McCoy Tyner laying down the structure with his piano, but often shifts to atonal chords and scales. John’s lead has a searching yearning desire. This is music more focused on painting an image. The title of the album is deceptive as John doesn’t sound settled, but working through some spiritual disquiet.

    Jimmy Garrison’s bass sets the tone for “Love” on the side two opener. There’s almost a Spanish structure behind his set up. John sounds more calmer, and reflective, as he comes in. Yet again that longing edges in as Tyner adds to the disquiet, there is a love within here, but it sounds like a mournful love. This all segways into “Consequences” where Pharoah takes on a more prominent role. The chaos of “The Father” reverts back on this number, Pharoah’s playing almost sounds industrial in places. The picture painted sounds like the terror of consequences for a soul that has failed. We haven’t even talked about the drum and percussion work between Elvin Jones and Rashied Ali. Jones sounds like he plays the main kit, while Ali’s percussion adds the coloring in-between Jones. Tyner’s more abstract playing helps to resolve the last half of this. However, any resolution is unsettled. This segways into the closer, “Serenity”, John’s initial playing is reflective and almost altruistic, the album closes quiet but unresolved, The album isn’t about offering answers but raising questions. The soft-focus photo of the cover captures what you'll experience with the album.

    Too many critics or jazz scholars focus on the technical things, for example, time signatures, or Jazz Harmony, scales and chords, but I am much more interested in how a piece of music makes one feel. There is three types of music, pure music for its own sake, music that evokes an emotion or image, or music that tells a narrative. Coltrane is much more interested in evoking a feeling these days, and less about the intellectual aspect of music.  This is an album you’ll have to accept on its own terms, for the uninitiated, it could be overwhelming and advise to follow his prior work before you tackle this, this is not casual listening but more a journey.

    If A Love Supreme was about praising and acknowledging God, and Ascension was another step, this is the other side of that equation, the need to have doubt within faith. You can’t have one without the other. Recommended for those who are ready or patient.