Michelle Mercer

Evan Parker and Ned Rothenberg surface so rarely for breath they could tag-team dive for pearls. At the Knitting Factory's Old Office recently, Parker's first soprano solo plunged into a strenuous 15-minute circular-breathing marathon. No slouch himself, Rothenberg had lung power enough to manage simultaneous melodies on his alto. There's no repose with these two. Their long-winded statements feature deliberate overblowing beyond conventional tones, with vaulting displays of smacking noises and spinning cartwheels of reverberation. You had to keep your eyes on them to believe it wasn't actually a quartet. Parker and Rothenberg's real-time production of an orchestral swarm of notes allayed suspicions that they'd overdubbed tracks on their 1997 Leo recording, Monkey Puzzle. Still, their polyrhythmic fingerings of multiphonics intoned the aural equivalent of seeing double.

Improvisation is a compositional method for Parker, who shares with his favorite writer, Samuel Beckett, a penchant for irresolution. His spiraling musical narratives repeatedly turn in on themselves, and when it's time to end them, he's said the only two ways are in a gridlock of white noise or by letting patterns unravel into their component threads. With this enigmatic approach to structured pyrotechnics, Parker has spearheaded the Euro improv scene for 30 years. Lately he's been rethinking improvisation within the brave new world of sampling, especially with his Electro-Acoustic Ensemble. On this stateside visit, the 55-year-old Brit is showcasing the all-acoustic techniques that make him one of the most formidable saxophonists since John Coltrane.

Besides the duos with Rothenberg, Parker led nightly invitationals with some of Downtown's finest—all fellow virtuosic tinkerers on their respective instruments. In a trio configuration with jazz intelligentsia bassist Mark Dresser and percussionist Gerry Hemingway on Friday, Parker's finely tuned phrases complemented the rhythm section's intricate dialogues. Bobby Previte took over for Hemingway on Saturday, and the drummer kicked in more of a push-and-shove propulsion to the music. Parker responded with some Euro-soul licks on tenor saxophone. When the improv ended, he stripped it down to a solo flash of Coltrane, a final keening blues phrase, a single black pearl.