Braxton's concert at the Ethical Culture Center in May of 2002 was his first unaccompanied show in New York in quite some time. I'm pretty sure it was the first I'd seen him perform solo since the late 70s but I still came with a combination of anticipation and fairly low expectations. Looking back through his solo work, one could reasonably chart a declining graph from the astonishing heights achieved in 1968's For Alto (purportedly the first commercial recording of solo saxophone ever) through the series of superb albums from the early 70s (Saxophone Improvisations, Series F and Solo: Live at Moers Festival) through the enjoyable but less vivid work on the double Arista LP and the subsequent hatArt and New Albion releases (with, perhaps, a bump up for the fine Impetus set). While his ensemble compositions were still capable of providing unexpected thrills and beauty (Composition 247, the duo with trumpeter Taylor Ho Bynum), I had a nagging sense that the language musics he had developed for solo alto saxophone had largely run their course. Of course, I hoped to be proven wrong.

Well, half and half. I'm not sure it's possible for Braxton to produce music that doesn't have some degree of interest, passion and intelligence. But, over time, the feeling of going over well-trodden ground sets in and the tingly thrill of bracing exploration withers. For this set, he drew from four books of solo composition as well as sprinkling in several standards. The most recent series is given the catalog number 312 (A-F) and, to me, sound like pure improvisations (unlike previous books where each piece, though improvised, often concerned itself with a fairly narrow, if intently investigated, area of sonics). Braxton has always been wonderful on the more balladic solo pieces and here, as in 312A and 312 C, his plaintive lyricism invests the works with a deep, graceful beauty although, it must be said, at a level or two beneath some prior examples in this general area. Indeed, that level is hinted at only in his rendition of Ornette Coleman's "Peace" where the melodicism is matched by an urgency of expression that hints at his youthful triumphs. "Body and Soul" is somewhat less successful; not "bad" by any means, simply very much of a piece with what Braxton had done in the preceding 30-odd years, albeit with less need to do so. Compositions 26B and 26F first appeared on that wonderful Saxophone Improvisations, Series F album; the former still retains that nasty and invigorating bite as phrases are chewed off and ruthlessly spat back out-it's arguably the highlight of the entire set. Still, still....it's more a recapitulation, a "greatest hits", if you will, than a renewed attack on an incompletely solved problem. 26F devolves into an odd, sometimes sing-songy, sometimes raucous march that I don't recall from earlier versions, but to no lasting effect.

As at the concert, I find myself wavering between an appreciation partially based in nostalgia, partly in deep respect and acknowledgement of Braxton's towering achievements of the past and an uncomfortable sense that he really didn't have a lot to say in this context, on this night. The "Why?" for doing a solo concert lingered as an unanswered question. At one time there were numerous good, fascinating reasons, there were issues that could only be approached in this manner. Braxton solved many of them and, largely, moved on. To hear him go back and resolve these problems certainly has its rewards (and, it should be said, albums such as this one are by no means the worst place for a newcomer to enter his sound world), but I can't help but miss the time when every new Braxton recording or concert promised a glimpse or two of hitherto unknown universes.