Among the many misperceptions about abstract expressionist icon Jackson Pollock is the assumption that his work is an undisciplined expression of id. It's probably true that Pollock's painterly oeuvre, imbued with dramatic movement, owes a debt to the power of catharsis. But to stop there is to ignore its serious compositional features and the rigors that led to its inception.
It's doubtful that anyone will make the same mistake with Chasing Paint, Jane Ira Bloom's latest disc. Funded by a fellowship from Chamber Music America and the Doris Duke Jazz Ensembles Project, the album conveys a meticulous air even as it heeds jazz's freer impulses.
Bloom's soprano saxophone is characteristically fleet and full-toned, capturing all the angular caprice of a brush on canvas. Matching her at every stroke are pianist Fred Hersch (a preternaturally intuitive partner for the better part of two decades) and the incomparable rhythm team of bassist Mark Dresser and drummer Bobby Previte (Bloom's compatriots since the '70s and '90s, respectively). Altogether, the quartet achieves synergy of the highest order and a familiarity that never slips into complacence.
Because Bloom originally envisioned this project as a suite, it makes sense that her compositions add up to a variegated whole. The disc ranges from bright-eyed swing ("Unexpected Light") to elegiac balladry ("On Seeing JP") to halting abstraction ("Alchemy"). At times, Bloom's trademark electronic effects manage to evoke a drip painting's network of color and line. Yet even at its most elliptical, this album remains wholly approachable. Like a Pollock canvas, it needn't be explained to be understood.