It’s probably just coincidence that tenor-saxophonist David S. Ware’s version of Sonny Rollins’s 1959 mini-epic was released almost simultaneously with Branford Marsalis’s recording of the same. It was hardcore traditionalist Marsalis who brought life-long unreconstructed avant-gardist Ware to Columbia Records for a three-album stint before Ware was dropped and Marsalis himself decamped to form his own record label and release "The Freedom Suite" on his first Marsalis Music release, Footsteps of Our Fathers.

As you might expect, whereas Marsalis dug into the piece in order to find the letter of Sonny’s law — the fearsome wit and articulation — Ware is into the spirit. There’s more country church here than Harlem street corner, and Ware expands Sonny’s trio format to include pianist Matthew Shipp. He slows down Sonny’s originally jaunty introductory theme, playing the first four notes twice over Shipp’s tolling gospel chords and drummer Guillermo E. Brown’s press rolls — more Coltrane invocation than Rollins explication. Bassist William Parker gives the second theme — originally a smooth urban-funk ostinato by Oscar Pettiford — an extra hitch in the syncopation, and when Ware comes in, he’s all growling gutbucket slur. Not that there isn’t plenty of Sonny here in the swagger, in the rhythmic motives and varied tempos. But there’s also Ware’s beautiful varieties of musical mark making — from thick swatches of sweeping mid-range lines to altissimo scribbles punctuated with dollops of low-end honk, all riding on Ware’s free, songful rhythmic gestures.