Ralph Peterson

Ralph Peterson

Forward Motion


Story by Ken Micallef
Photos by Paul La Raia

Ralph Peterson Jr. burst onto the late-’80s/early-’90s jazz scene like a tornado, tsunami, and forest fire rolled into one. On a series of superb Blue Note releases featuring his inventive compositions sprinkled with the odd standard, Peterson recalled his heroes Art Blakey, Elvin Jones, and Philly Joe Jones but also revealed a deeper thread leading back to such big-bang jazz drummers as Baby Dodds and Zutty Singleton. Peterson’s drumming and personality were raw to the bone and consistently tipping the scales. His music danced on the head of a needle. His fiery drumming was original and provocative. And his boisterous personality only added to his volcanic image.

In addition to his own projects, Peterson performed and/or recorded with the greatest talent in jazz, including Branford Marsalis, Michael Brecker, Craig Harris, David Murray, Ron Carter, Terence Blanchard, Charles Lloyd, Stanley Turrentine, the Count Basie Orchestra, Steve Coleman, Stanley Cowell, and Betty Carter. Peterson was the only person to share the bandstand as co-drummer with Art Blakey’s Jazz Messengers. But while musicians were roundly stunned by his drumming and compositions on albums such as V, Triangular, Volition, Presents the Fo’tet, and Ornettology, each recorded with a unique configuration and lineup, beneath the accolades and extremes Peterson was burning out—and fast.When Modern Drummer interviewed him in 1991 for his first full-length feature, Peterson was already deep in the throes of a serious crack cocaine addiction. At the time, he was highly functioning, making gigs and making even bolder claims. But soon he began losing jobs, money, and friends. Even while under contract to Blue Note, Peterson was essentially homeless. Dark days turned into dark years for a man whose giant personality, gregarious and giving nature, and tremendous talent should have seen him garnering awards and burnishing his legacy.

By 1996 Peterson had, remarkably, fully kicked the habit. He slowly revealed his hard-won wisdom in a series of new recordings on his own Onyx Productions label that featured mature compositions and showed his explosive style to be fully intact. He pursued his love for taekwondo and earned a fourth-degree black belt, then opened his own taekwondo school. And he taught at the University of the Arts in Philadelphia, Long Island University, the New School, the North Netherlands Conservatory in Holland, Rutgers University, and the Juilliard School of Music. Currently a professor at Berklee College of Music—his duration fourteen years and counting—Peterson has instructed such drummers as Ari Hoenig, Justin Faulkner, EJ Strickland, Rodney Green, Tyshawn Sorey, Antonio Sanchez, Dana Hall, and Obed Calvaire, as well as the saxophonists Tia Fuller and Melissa Aldana and his current trio bandmates Zaccai and Luques Curtis. Peterson, who also plays piano and trumpet, maintains a heavy class load at Berklee, teaching four ensembles including big band, the Art Blakey Jazz Messenger Small Group, and the class Jazz Drumset Repertoire, in which students are pushed to learn fifty tunes in fifteen weeks.

“I was fortunate to take lessons with Ralph back in the early ’90s, when I was trying to get my jazz vocabulary together,” Antonio Sanchez tells MD. “I remember coming into the classroom, and Ralph was casually sitting down holding a trumpet. He signaled me to sit behind the drumkit. We started playing a blues—he was playing the hell out of that trumpet—and he kicked my butt right from the get-go. I learned a lot about musical conversation that day. Question and answer. Tension and release. Ralph got his point across, crystal clear, in the best possible way.”

Back on the scene, though, the tribulations were not over. Peterson underwent multiple hip surgeries and now has a metal plate in one hip and four screws and a rebuilt disc in his back from a spinal fusion. Then, when all seemed finally clear, Ralph was diagnosed with colorectal cancer. After lengthy treatments he is currently cancer free.

Peterson’s latest recordings maintain his high compositional standards, while his drumming, though as in-your-face and blazing as ever, is more streamlined, focused, even compact. Peterson says more with less. His cymbal beat is a clear, pointed, forward-leaning thing of beauty. His snare drum playing remains explosive, while his brushwork is a textbook lesson in panache and punch.

Ralph Peterson

After nineteen records as a leader and thirty years in the business, Peterson’s legacy is that of a warrior king. Nearly felled by addiction but ultimately conquering it, attacked by disease yet beating it too, Peterson has kept moving on. The original spirit of the music that’s been so important to him all of his professional life lives on as well. “The Messenger Legacy Band honors my apprenticeship under Art Blakey,” Ralph says, regarding one of his current groups and one of his greatest influences, “and being chosen by him as the last Jazz Messenger drummer. I want to carry that spirit forward and make sure the Messengers’ sound remains viable and active.”

MD: Listening to your latest records, Triangular III, The Duality Perspective, and Alive at Firehouse 12, compared to your early-’90s trio recordings, you’re the same guy: the incredible energy, the respect for tradition, and the extreme forward motion. How do you hear your drumming then versus now?

Ralph: Much in the same way that I’ve changed as a human being, I’ve grown up. I like to think I’m less selfish, that I listen more. And I think more before I speak. All those things that accompany my growth as a human being are reflected in my music and my drumming.

MD: Your playing is more agile now. Even when slamming a full kit, you’re extremely graceful. Where does that level of sensitivity come from?

Ralph: Understanding that I don’t have anything that I need to prove to anybody anymore. That I can simply be who I am, and that that’s good enough for me. I have a wonderful relationship with my wife, Diane Elyse Peterson, and better interpersonal relationships with students and family. Through my recovery from cancer I had to learn to live the adage that “If you can’t love me where I am at, then leave me where you found me.”

MD: And that affects your ability to play more gracefully on the drumset?

Ralph: I believe so. You can’t separate one’s persona from one’s music. The music is a more honest expression of who you are.

The Absent Years
MD: When MD interviewed you in the early ’90s, you were a drug addict.

Ralph: Oh, yeah, you interviewed me at Bretton Hall on the Upper West Side [of Manhattan]. That was part of my using period. Back then it was no secret. I was a crackhead. The only person who didn’t know that everybody knew was me. Addicts are often the last to know.

MD: How did you shake the addiction?

Ralph: I had help; it wasn’t an immediate process. I learned that my brain is biochemically different from most people’s brains; I didn’t have a cutoff switch. One of my taekwondo instructors, Keith McKinley, made a big difference. He put me in an apartment across from his and looked out for me. He reached out to me when I was essentially homeless, while I had a deal with Blue Note Records. For two or three years I was actively absent.

MD: You missed a lot of gigs.

Ralph: When I started getting fired for nodding off on gigs, as with David Murray, and when I could no longer get to the airport or the club because I couldn’t get past the cab ride, I knew I was out of control. Most addicts know they’re out of control long before they summon the courage to ask for help. I got clean off the compassion and caring of people. I went through eighteen days of rehab and missed recording dates. Eventually I put together a year clean. Staying clean is neither simple nor easy. It requires courage and work and faith and trust, those principles that I’d lost touch with. I needed to recover and reconnect. I’m not that guy anymore—but I know where he lives! [laughs]

MD: How did being clean change your drumming?

Ralph: It took me a minute to learn how to enjoy playing unaltered, because I’d done it [high] for so long. I realized I was [beginning to do] some of my best work, as with the Reclamation Project. I realized that not only am I a better player now, I’m a much better composer. That was self-evident. My energy is used to uplift the people I play with now, instead of beating them down in some testosterone-induced display of musical machismo. [laughs]

Art Blakey, Philly Joe Jones
MD: Did working with Art Blakey contribute to your volcanic style?

Ralph: Yes, Art Blakey, Elvin Jones, and Philly Joe Jones were my holy trinity. From Blakey I got the sound of the hi-hat and the ride cymbal, and the concept of building and constructing a solo with the soloist. While a drummer’s main role is as accompanist, the jazz language has become more conversational as compared to when the original role of drummers was being completely in service to the soloists. Now the soloist is as responsible for listening to the ideas coming from the rhythm section as the rhythm section is for listening to the soloist’s ideas. I think that way as a trumpeter as well. I got all that from Blakey. I would watch him [train] Terence Blanchard and Wynton Marsalis in the Jazz Messengers. Art would let them know when they made their move too soon or when they played too long. He would simply go to another intensity of volume level and swallow them whole. They would be pushing and pushing but you could only hear Art’s cymbals.

MD: What life lessons did you take from Blakey?

Ralph: That there was only one Art Blakey. Musicians from that era paid the price and suffered many indignities that I know nothing about as a professional. I remember after I got clean, [trombonist] Curtis Fuller said it was good to see me getting my act together, because, “You young cats don’t even have the same reasons to be out there as we did, because you didn’t face what we faced.” Being in the presence of Messengers was a huge influence on me.

MD: What did you take from Philly Joe Jones?

Ralph PetersonRalph: What I got from Philly Joe was articulation, clarity of thought, and execution. Being articulate and erudite in what you’re trying to say on the drums. Art Blakey didn’t always pick the right words, but you understood what he meant. Philly Joe was so lyrically accurate. He taught me about the elegance of rudiments.

MD: Were your Meinl signature Byzance cymbals designed to your specifications?

Ralph: Yes, the basic sound I wanted was the classic Turkish, throaty, breathy, low-pitched ride that was not pingy, that had air but also definition that cuts through and locks in with the sound of the bass frequency. A lot of the cymbal roar is subsonic.

MD: Your ride cymbals really cut.

Ralph: In a trio configuration I use the Byzance Nuance as the primary ride. It has a more compact sound. I also use the Byzance Vintage crash/rides, Byzance Thin Dark crashes, and custom 14″ hi-hats. These hi-hats really have finesse. Sometimes you get hi-hats that are dark and chunky sounding with a strong chick, but they sound clunky when you play something delicate or nuanced. With trios or singers, I use the 21″ as the primary ride, with 14″ hi-hats.

Not Technique, but Mechanics
MD: Why do you sit high off the kit?

Ralph: Vision. I can see the whole kit better. It’s just a position I like. Some like to sit back; I like to see over the front edge.

MD: Watching your current and older videos, it’s like your hands are spring-loaded. You’re incredibly dynamic, and you have total control. Does that control come from the fingers, or is it more of a Moeller technique?

Ralph: I teach without using the word technique. I use the word mechanics, as in the way a pitcher throws a curveball.

MD: How does that relate to drumming?

Ralph: It’s about keeping the hands even on an even plane, which is something I learned from Tony Williams. Another reason I sit high is because if my arms are down they’re relaxed. If I have to hold my arms up to play a high snare drum, I have to flex and use muscles that I wouldn’t use if I sat up at the drums. I’m not impressed with my hand speed, but I’ve worked hard, and I teach Alan Dawson’s Ritual.

MD: So you rely on fingers or rebound to control the sticks?

Ralph: I’m somewhere between the two. The true way lies in the middle of whatever extremes may be pulling on you.

MD: What is your focus on hand technique, or mechanics, with students?

Ralph: For one, I teach amplitude. If you want the stick to come back, you haveto drop it from a higher place. You don’t have to swing the arm. If you raise the stick, gravity will help the stick get to the drum. So there is rebound, but also finger and hand movement. I speak to students about their hands, that the sticks are an extension of their hands. The stick must be controlled by the fulcrum muscle. Most of the things I play are from the traditional-grip position. It always depends on the sound I want to get.

MD: You’re speaking to the left-hand fulcrum?

Ralph Peterson

Ralph: There is a right-hand fulcrum too, but most drummers aren’t aware of it. The second joint on the index finger of the right hand is where the stick usually intersects, and the thumb comes across to support it. That’s the fulcrum point, but the fulcrum muscle is the outer muscle on the base of the thumb between the thumb and index finger. If you squeeze your thumb up against the side of your hand, that muscle will pop up. That is the most important muscle in drumming. That muscle controls and moves the stick. When you play with your arms, you’re dealing with larger muscle groups; it requires more energy, it’s inefficient. When your arms move in response to where your hands are going, there’s a proficiency of motion that allows you to play more freely.

In the left-hand traditional grip, I don’t fold the index finger over the top of the stick, but rather allow the stick the same arc of amplitude that I have in the right hand. So if you hold the stick between the thumb and index finger, then strike the drum once, the stick will rebound naturally. Once you see the stick’s arc, you shape your mechanics to follow the natural amplitude of the stick. It’s not a willy-nilly bounce approach. For me it’s using the rebound but not being dependant on it, using rebound as a tool for freedom of execution and efficiency of motion.

MD: What other concepts do you explore with students?

Ralph: Elbow position is very important. Most drummers sit with their elbows pinned against their body, trying to keep their hands close to themselves. But that restricts your breathing. The drumset is one of the most physically demanding instruments, so to prevent the muscles from locking, you bring blood to the working muscle group by breathing. Like in martial arts, breathing is very important to playing both fast and slow. Slow tempos pull in one direction; medium tempos can pull fast. Taking a deep breath before you play can help center your playing.

MD: How do you teach speed?

Ralph: When playing fast, you want to be in control. I learned to play fast by playing with the records of Betty Carter, Johnny Griffin, and Max Roach/Clifford Brown. [Drummer/educator] Michael Carvin taught me how elbow position can restrict breathing. And when studying trumpet, I learned about the anatomy of the diaphragm. Most people think that when they take a breath they’re lifting their chest, but the diaphragm is a dome-shaped muscle, and it extends around to where the elbows are. If your arms are pinned against your body, you’re not getting the air you need.

MD: What’s your opinion on heel up or heel down on the bass drum pedal?

Ralph: For me, playing on the ball of the foot is a byproduct of sitting higher on the drums. There are tempos and musical idioms where playing heel down helps generate the sound. Generally it’s hard to apply any one thing to all aspects of music. It’s important to listen; it’s important to play good time; it’s important to not be selfish. You have to serve the music. Being a musician is actually being a part of the service industry. The thing we serve is the music, and the music is a principle greater than any musician who plays it.

MD: You don’t think of yourself as a fast player, but how do you attain speed when you need it?

Ralph: I hear the sound; I visualize the sound. I don’t have to practice to play fast; I have to be relaxed to play fast. I can’t play fast if there’s any tension. I have to breathe.

MD: How do you teach Alan Dawson’s Ritual?

Ralph: I teach it as an introductory element. A lot of students come to Berklee having seen the Ritual, which makes teaching them easier. The Ritual is a 400-bar, 86-rudiment megalithic mega-giant! Alan grouped the rudiments almost Darwin-istically. The first section is ruffs, the second is flams, the next section is double strokes, then Swiss rudiments. From those four sections, which include the twenty-six American and forty PASIC rudiments, the next two sections are hybrid combinations of the four sections. It’s worth noting that I didn’t study this with Alan, which most instructors at Berklee did.

MD: How do you teach students who grew up with hip-hop but want to play jazz?

Ralph: I learned from Art Blakey that a strong beat is a strong beat. Buhaina [Blakey’s surname following his adoption of Islam] would always slip backbeats into the middle of swing. Funk, swing, Afro-Cuban, and Caribbean music have more things in common than not. The strength and consistency of the beat is more important than the stylistic decoration of it.

MD: But when a student plays swing and it’s not swinging, how do you help him?

Ralph: I say, “How did you learn to play that?” They name some drummers and I say, “But you came to me to get your jazz stuff together.” I don’t have jazz juice to sprinkle on drummers so that they leave my office swinging. I tell them, “The same process that you used learning to play you must now apply to what you want to play next.” The ego doesn’t want to spend time doing stuff at which it sucks. When you’re sad at something and it’s kicking your ass, that’s the character-building beauty of learning to play an instrument. I wasn’t a jazz baby. I came up with Kool and the Gang and Earth, Wind & Fire and Tower of Power, the large funk orchestras. So I connect with the funk-oriented student where they are. If you want what I got, you have to do what I did.

MD: For students of jazz, what’s the biggest problem?

Ralph: MP3s. When I was learning music you only had records, then cassettes. Now a student can carry 10,000 tunes in their phone and not know anything about any of them. They have every Miles Davis record but they can’t sing any Miles Davis solos. When you learn a solo you understand better what Elvin Jones or Philly Joe is doing behind the soloist, because it gets you past the “what” and “how” into the “why, where, and when.” The latter three are the most important questions, and that’s the challenge. Drummers are facile now, have great hands, and can play at incredible velocity, but they have no idea where to put most of the stuff they can play. They need to study nuance and dynamics and patience. You have to study European classical and music from the African diaspora.

The Ralph Peterson Trio: Triangular III
MD: Your brushwork on Sam Rivers’ “Beatrice” from Triangular III is great. You’re playing multiple rhythms below the surface but still jabbing accents and putting it in the pocket. How do you teach brushes?

Ralph: We practice the rudiments and the Ritual with the brushes. Some brush things, like popping the snare drum, I have them play the Ritual as you normally would with sticks, and again with a focus on getting that pop. That helps the student to locate that sound without looking for it. Ease of execution is about repetition. That puts things we want to play in an area where we can access them from any angle. The pops and jabs that I execute while playing cross-rhythms with brushes come from working really hard to have access to these tools from any position.

MD: You sound like a small Latin rhythm section in “Inner Urge.” It’s very authentic. What are you playing there?

Ralph: I rail against the term Latin. There is no more a “jazz beat” than there is a “Latin beat.” There’s a backbeat, a shuffle, etc. Max Roach rode the cymbal one way, and Art Blakey rode the cymbal another way, and there are subtle differences and similarities between the two. You need that same understanding of African culture as it pertains to music in the Caribbean. Even “Afro-Cuban” is becoming too narrow a concept for me. “Afro-Caribbean” is more accurate. My people are from Barbados. New Orleans is just the Caribbean northwest.

“Inner Urge” is Luques [bass] and Zaccai [piano] Curtis’s arrangement. We play the clave in five there. I often use Ignacio Berroa’s DVD, Mastering the Art of Afro-Cuban Drumming, to teach the fundamentals of Afro-Cuban drumming on the drumset. But the fact that you hear me sounding like a drum ensemble in “Inner Urge” means I’m on point in terms of my goal. I’m not trying to sound like a jazz drummer playing Latin, but a tumbaó player or a clave player on a single instrument with all of these components. That’s the same way I learned second line, from the bottom up. I’m attempting an ensemble approach to playing Afro-Cuban and Afro-Caribbean clave-based music, not play it like a set drummer.

[Horacio] “El Negro” [Hernandez] and Antonio Sanchez are…let’s call them rhythmic mutants in their ability. I have to lean against something when they play, because they severely mess with my head. Antonio’s kit looks more like an organ than a drumset! Look at all those pedals. I emulate those guys. But most importantly I now trust what I feel in my gut and my spirit. I’ll listen to an ensemble of hand drummers and try to understand their technique and apply it to the drumset. Then I gain understanding. Sometimes I’ll have a student take notes as I work through a new piece of music, as an example. I try to avoid telling students what to do. I try to share my experience. That’s all I really have to share. But I love playing “Inner Urge” and “Bemsha Swing,” all those Afro-ethnic grooves. I hope we convey the swing on Triangular III. I hope there’s continuity in what we play.

MD: How do you play the ride cymbal? Your sound is precise yet effortless, driving and shimmery.

Ralph: The sound is in my head and in my hands. It’s back to the whole fulcrum thing, letting the stick do as much of the work as it can, rather than driving the stick with my wrist all the time. If I’m thinking about my wrist I’m snapping that joint up and down. That will give you carpal tunnel. You have to find that middle point between bounce and pushing the stick. Push and pulse.

Conceptually, I hear the ride cymbal as a quarter-note pulse. The function of the jazz ride cymbal is to connect with the bassist, who is not playing the standard “dang, dang, da-dang” ride cymbal pulse. He’s playing quarter notes. Very often I start with quarter notes, then I try to get the quarter note moving on its own energy. Then I will add skips to the quarter notes. If the bass player is walking, then I’m skipping or dancing. Someone skipping has a kind of buoyancy. That’s my visual and aural conception in playing the ride cymbal.

MD: In “Moments” on Triangular III, you start with an open solo. Is that foreshadowing the form of the tune?

Ralph: I try to incorporate elements of either the melody or some rhythmic motif of the melody. That song has a melodic hook. [Sings melody] Zaccai is playing bell-like tones on piano there, so I play the edges of the cymbals as if they were bell chimes. Each cymbal is pitched differently, so I’m able to follow the contour of the melody. You can imply the melody doing that. I can also get two pitches out of my 16″ bass drum. I can bend the pitch with my foot.

MD: Which ride cymbal are you playing in “Blues for Chooch,” which is fairly up-tempo?

Ralph: That’s the 21″ Byzance Nuance Ralph Peterson Signature ride. I use that song to think of ways to challenge my students to play on the blues, such as ascending, descending, half steps, or playing around the circle of fifths. Then I added six- and ten-bar phrases. I love how those phrases open up and give you more room to express and develop an idea than with four- and eight-bar phrases. Then we added harmonic turns so they aren’t repetitive. It’s an eighteen-bar blues with a III-VI-II-V turnaround. That short-circuits the automatic pilot, that conditioned response once you know blues structure.

MD: How did you develop the fast ride playing we hear in “Blues for Chooch”?

Ralph: For playing fast, check out Betty Carter’s records. My big brother is Kenny Washington, who also played with Betty. [Like Washington, Peterson played in Carter’s “school of jazz,” which has educated drummers including Clarence Penn, Lewis Nash, and Gregory Hutchinson.] I spent a summer trying to learn those fast tunes with Betty. That’s the endurance part of preparing for that. The mechanics of playing up-tempo ride is thinking in half strokes. So if the tempo is very fast, physically I’m thinking quarter notes in half time. The rest is manipulation and control of the rebound.

MD: How do you get multiple strokes from one stick?

Ralph: You can get two, even six, strokes out of a stick. The trick is getting them to fall in line in a certain shape, then being consistent about how high to lift up the stick. You don’t want the cymbal to open up on you. Also, where to ride on the cymbal matters. As the tempo increases I tend to move toward the bell. The sound is tighter there. The decay is quicker and more articulate. The rest is just getting in there with repetition and learning to breathe through that fast tempo. When I hear a fast tempo counted off I take slow, long, deep breaths. I try to slow everything down. Not the tempo, but all of my biomechanics, my breathing, my heart rate. I halve the tempo being counted off.

Blue Note, the Return?
MD: When will Blue Note reissue your epic albums from the ’90s?

Ralph: [Producer] Michael Cuscuna told me that my early Blue Note records were going to be released in a two-CD set on Mosaic Select. Almost two generations haven’t heard V, Triangular, Ornettology, and Presents the Fo’tet. Not because the music isn’t valuable, but because the record industry has this policy of deleting a record three months after its release, unless it’s a megahit. Or it’s only available digitally. I asked Michael if I could buy back the rights and release those records on my label. The stock market crashed in 2008 and I no longer heard from Michael Cuscuna. It all evaporated. Now I plan to rerecord all of those albums. That area of my recording history will resolve itself, because my label, Onyx Productions, is up and functioning. Perhaps this story will reignite interest in those records! That would be a beautiful thing.


Art Blakey and the Jazz Messengers Free for All (Art Blakey) /// Miles Davis Live at the Plugged Nickel (Tony Williams) /// Philly Joe Jones Drums Around the World (Philly Joe Jones) /// Clifford Brown and Max Roach Live at the Bee Hive (Max Roach) /// John Coltrane Coltrane’s Sound (Elvin Jones) /// Larry Young Unity (Elvin Jones) /// Joe Henderson Power to the People (Jack DeJohnette) /// Roy Haynes When It’s Haynes It Roars (Roy Haynes) /// McCoy Tyner Supertrios (Tony Williams, Jack DeJohnette) /// Wes Montgomery Smokin’ at the Half Note (Jimmy Cobb)

Tools of the Trade

Drums: Peterson plays Mapex Orion and Saturn series drumkits. For work with his Sextet, Unity Project, Fo’tet, and Aggregate Prime group he uses an 8×14 snare drum, 8×12 and 9×13 toms, 14×14 and 16×16 floor toms, and a 14×18 bass drum. For Trio and Messenger Legacy Band work he uses a 5×14 snare, a 10×10 tom, a 13×13 floor tom, and a 16×16 or 16×20 bass drum. His Evans heads include G1 and G2 Coated or Onyx snare batters and Clear 300 snare-sides, G1 Coated or Onyx tom batters and G1 Clear resonants, and G1 Coated bass drum batters and front heads. His Meinl cymbals include a 22″ Byzance Jazz Thin ride, a 20″ Byzance Extra Dry Thin crash, 15″ Byzance Traditional Medium hi-hats, a 19″ Byzance Extra Dry Thin crash, a 21″ Byzance Nuance Ralph Peterson Signature ride, and a 22″ Byzance Symmetry Ralph Peterson Signature ride. He plays Vic Firth American Jazz AJ1 sticks, Heritage brushes, Rute 606s, and T3 Staccato mallets.


Out of the Blue Inside Track /// David Murray New Life /// Branford Marsalis Royal Garden Blues /// Ralph Peterson Quintet V, Subliminal Seduction /// Ralph Peterson Trio Triangular /// Ralph Peterson Fo’tet Ornettology, The Reclamation Project /// The Unity Project Alive at Firehouse 12 Vol. 1 /// Ralph Peterson Trio Featuring the Curtis Brothers Triangular III