There’s a fear out there, even among jazz cognoscenti, that the music’s best years and true geniuses are all part of the past. Even in New York City, the richest magnet for live jazz on earth, it sometimes seems that experiencing generational talent, the kind that once drove the music forward, is now confined to gazing at the famous photos on the walls of the music’s most revered shrine, the Village Vanguard.
Yet, seeing pianist Sullivan Fortner at the Vanguard, as part of Cécile McLorin Salvant’s band, convinced me that there’s still jazz magic in the world. By turns
