Pharoah Sanders Quartet at SkyCity Theatre

By RUSSELL BAILLIE

You would think after all these years, all those albums, all those collaborations with legendary figures, Pharoah Sanders would know one end of a saxophone from another. But for a moment there it appeared not.

Overcome with exuberance and a sense of showmanship which belied his 63 years and stern reputation, Sanders took to singing into the bell of his tenor horn.

It looked hilarious and sounded cute and spooky. And it wasn't the only unconventional move Sanders did or sound he coaxed from the instrument during a blindingly brilliant performance from the American veteran and his trio of backers.

Curiously, Sanders was here on a weekend when the country's jazz-appreciative were otherwise distracted by the Waiheke-based-but-now-with-city-gigs annual Easter festival, or Tauranga's annual event.

That might explain why the SkyCity Theatre was only half full. But this wasn't jazz of wide comfort zone and borrowed history, as much of the festival programme seemed to offer.

This set which made nods to Sanders' long and colourful past but escaped being a museum piece with its sheer emotional punch, especially since Sanders' overblowing, split tones and seemingly random spark-bursts of notes reached for something in the great beyond.

Of course, Sanders has been doing all that for quite some time - the work he did in the 1960s with John Coltrane still casts a long shadow, acknowledged early in the set with a strident version of Coltrane's Welcome.

Apart from a gentle mid-set sway through the standard A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square, there wasn't much that stayed earthbound during the rest of the performance, helped especially by pianist William Henderson's gymnastic elegance on the ivories and drummer Joe Farnsworth's octopus-like grooves and creative use of his kit.

For much of the early set Sanders was happy to stand-back - sometimes off-stage - and let his young sidemen do their thing. Later though, all that swing got the better of him and Sanders danced - imagine the Nelson Mandela shuffle with some deep knee bends - the levity perhaps getting the better of him on the single encore, a throwaway call-and-response Afrobeat number.

If they lacked a little in the duration department, the Pharoah Sanders Quartet was still something else - jazz with a past but done with fire, daring, occasional experimental comedy and an utter sense of joy.