Montreal guitarist Sam Kirmayer started 2018 on a high note.

A few weeks into the new year, he won the Julian Award for Excellence for Emerging Canadian Artists, a prize given by Simon Fraser University’s CJSF 90.1FM to an album by a young Canadian jazz up-and-comer. Kirmayer’s 2017 debut disc, a quartet release called Opening Statement, richly deserved the recognition.

For an encore, Kirmayer has climbed further still, with his new album High and Low, which finds the 28-year-old devotee of bop and swing assuredly leading an organ trio.

Kirmayer got his first taste of playing in this soulful format as an undergrad at McGill University, during sessions with professors Kevin Dean on organ and André White on drums. “I felt at home right away,” Kirmayer says. “There’s something about that combination of instruments that just works and I find it relatively easy to get a sound.”

A mix of poised originals and discerningly selected standards, High and Low testifies to Kirmayer’s enthusiasm for the luminous organ trios that featured his heroes Grant Green and Wes Montgomery, as well as, more recently, Peter Bernstein.
Kirmayer chose wisely when he picked sidemen for his new project that casts his warm tone and lyrical focus in a different setting.
On drums, it was a no-brainer to play again with veteran Montreal drummer Dave Laing, who laid down the unflinching, impeccable groove on Opening Statement. “Dave has been one of my favourite musicians for a while,” says Kirmayer. “I’ve learned a lot playing with him over the last few years and he brought so much to the first CD we made together that it was never a question for me that I wanted him on this record as well.”
Hiring New York-based organist Ben Paterson on organ, a 35-year-old who demonstrates consummate taste and fire on High and Low, was more of a leap of faith. “I discovered Ben through his work with Bernstein and Bobby Broom,” Kirmayer explains. “He’s got such a great sense of swing and is a truly melodic improviser. When I found out he was a friend of a friend, I jumped at the chance to do some playing with him.”
The band prepped by playing two nights at Montreal’s lynchpin jazz venue, the Upstairs Jazz Bar and Grill, and then went into the studio for two days. They might have begun as two friends and an out-of-towner stranger, but the simpatico and eloquence that they’ve achieved on High and Low sound like the hallmarks of a seasoned band.
On the album, Kirmayer’s four originals are tautly constructed springboards for meaty improvising, and they reflect his thoughtfulness and personal interests outside of playing jazz.
The disc-opening, waltzing title track takes its name from an Akira Kurosawa film. Speaking of the Japanese filmmaker, Kirmayer reveals his own powers of artistic appreciation: “He balances heavy, dramatic material with a sense of humour. There is an epic scale to his storytelling but it still feels really human and relatable.” The tune was a first take, as were several others on the album.
Kirmayer penned his bittersweet Latin tune What Could Have Been “during a particularly dark period following the 2016 U.S. democratic primary,” he says. “I was trying to capture the feeling of the moment when the future I hoped for became inaccessible.”
Cazelais Oublié, "sort of a minor blues with a bridge,” Kirmayer says, is named after the street in Montreal’s Saint-Henri neighbourhood where Kirmayer, a Montreal native, lives. The traditionally working-class area, where no less than Oscar Peterson grew up, is undergoing radical gentrification — “almost everywhere except for my street,” Kirmayer says. Nearby construction can go on around the clock for weeks, spewing so much noise and dust that some have begun calling the area “le Saint Henri des oubliés” (the Saint Henri of the forgotten), he adds.
The poignant ballad Recurrence was written by Kirmayer for a loved one who was battling cancer. Fortunately, that person fully recovered. “This was one of the first times I’ve had a tune just appear fully formed,” Kirmayer says. “The whole compositional process took about 20 minutes.”
The disc’s remaining original, Farnsworth, was penned by McGill prof White, and Kirmayer wants it known that he looks up to the revered pianist-drummer. “Andre’s been such an influence on me,” Kirmayer says. "I wanted to record something of his to acknowledge that. Besides, I think Farnsworth deserves to be a standard.”

Rounding out the album are some deftly played standards. The upbeat On A Clear Day You Can See Forever is part of Kirmayer’s repertoire because it reminds him of the quintessentially swinging pianist Wynton Kelly. “Just thinking of Wynton Kelly is enough to put me in a good mood,” Kirmayer says.

There’s also a languorous version of Nancy (With the Laughing Face). Kirmayer discovered that tune through a Grant Green version, but adds that he associates it with Frank Sinatra. Kirmayer says he likes to know the words of jazz standards, but adds self-effacingly that he has a bad memory for lyrics.

Ill Wind is a tune that Kirmayer picked up because McGill prof Dean loves it. However, Kirmayer has recast the tune in 5/4 time. This track on High And Low includes a few blistering passages from Paterson that should elicit “jazz woos” from listeners who appreciate burning and bluesy depth.

The disc’s closing track is a final shining example of jazz erudition and maturity that outstrip Kirmayer’s years. While the shuffling Almost Dawn sounds like it was tailor-made for an organ trio, it’s a Coleman Hawkins tune that was recorded just once, on the saxophone great’s 1960 album The Hawk Swings. “I thought that was going to be perfect for Ben,” Kirmayer says.

For all his achievements with Opening Statement and High And Low, Kirmayer speaks humbly of his aspirations. “I have certain musical ideals that I’m striving to get closer to — both in my playing and writing — such as clarity, honesty and communication of emotion,” he says. “But mostly I'm just trying to play music that I would want to listen to. I hope that other listeners will get some enjoyment out of it as well.” The probability of that, I’ll suggest, is very, very high.
Peter Hum, Ottawa Citizen jazz writer and jazz pianist