Joshua Faces His Jazz Jericho : Review: Saxman Redman’s vacillating performance points up the conflicting demands of art and commerce.

“I’m sorry we’re beginning so late,” said an apologetic Joshua Redman at Catalina Bar & Grill Tuesday night. “I’m from New York, so I’m usually on time.

“But I just dropped my tenor saxophone from this high,” he said, holding his hand over his head, “and I’m afraid it’s really, uh, messed up. So, here goes. Wish me luck.”

If his horn was indeed messed up, the mechanical problems were nowhere evident in Redman’s playing. This appearance, his third in the Southland this year, simply reinforced the widespread belief that he is one of the most important young lions of jazz.

More significant, however, was his worry over punctuality--his show started a half-hour late--and his preparedness, which reflected a concern for audience reaction that reached, sometimes too deeply, into his music as well.

Redman, 25, is a bright and thoughtful artist (he is a graduate of Harvard), intimately in touch with, and attentive to, his role in the historical flow of jazz. He’s powerfully influenced by Sonny Rollins, equally aware of John Coltrane, and blends patterns and tones from both into his own musical vista.

But he is also a performer of the ‘90s, subject to the rigorous pressures of the commercial musical world. A sold-out room and an enthusiastic audience of the sort that greeted him Tuesday, with a waiting line for the second show, place a special demand upon an artist, and Redman is far too astute to be unaware of the presence of that demand.

And his playing, superb though it was at times, revealed the contradictions that can be generated by the jazzman’s eternal need to deal with the inconsistencies between the requisites of art and commerce.

In a program devoted largely to works from his current album, Redman seemed to vacillate, often uncomfortably so, from remarkably intense improvisational explorations to more superficial efforts to arouse the excitement of his audience.

When he was good, he was brilliant. In originals such as “Rejoice” and, especially, the ballad “Sweet Sorrow,” Redman was astonishingly articulate, unleashing dazzling torrents of notes that, for all their multiplicity, emerged with the precision and logic of a Mozart melody. His occasional cadenzas were virtuosic tours de force, roving all over the horn, popping out high harmonics, instantly countering with bottoming honks.

Redman’s more calculated efforts were considerably less musically effective. Almost every improvisation, for example, was captured, in at least one spot, by a sequence of rising, repetitious phrases that climaxed in crowd-pleasing high notes. At one point, he even tried a circular breathing phrase not unlike that used by players as diverse as Harry Carney and Kenny G. These are, of course, typical tenor saxophone dramatics, tracing back as far as Flip Phillips, Charlie Ventura and the Jazz at the Philharmonic concerts of the ‘40s. Yet, for all their effectiveness, they do not represent an approach that feels appropriate--especially not when done with such frequency--for a major talent actively in the process of discovering his own voice.

Further complicating the art/commerce conflict in his music, Redman does not seem to be challenging himself with sufficiently exacting material. Still a budding composer, he does some interesting things: “Sweet Sorrow” juxtaposed an atmospheric, film noir melody against a Satie-like piano accompaniment. More often, his pieces--captivated at the moment by too powerful a fascination with soul jazz inflections--provided few unusual harmonic triggers for extended improvisation. And he’s too good not to be stretching his envelope a bit more.

Redman was accompanied by his regular group: the amazing Christian McBride on bass, Brad Mehldau on piano and Brian Blade on drums. Mehldau and Blade offered sturdy if not always notably unique support.

But McBride is one of the finds of the ‘90s. Curiously, he played only a few solos in Redman’s opening set. When he did, McBride’s magisterial presence dominated the room in a way that underscored his identity as a franchise player who will have growing impact upon jazz well beyond the remainder of the decade.

* The Joshua Redman Quartet at Catalina Bar & Grill, 1640 N. Cahuenga Blvd., Hollywood. (213) 466-2210. Redman plays two sets each night, 8:30 and 10:30, tonight, Friday and Sunday. $15 cover tonight and Sunday, $20 cover Friday, with two-drink minimum. $95 per person for dinner and music New Year’s Eve , not including alcoholic beverages. Doors open at 7:30 p.m.