Pianist has South Florida Jazz wrapped around her finger

You probably could run on-stage and beat Randy Brecker's kneecaps with a tire iron and the cat wouldn't make a bad note. Fortunately, no one tested that theory Saturday night at the Miniaci Performing Arts Center in Davie. The trumpet master blew one gorgeously toned solo after another in the company of pianist Lynne Arriale's new quartet, which provided a preview of its recording, Nuance: The Bennett Studio Sessions, due out in May. The superb rhythm section from the recording, bassist George Mraz and drummer Anthony Pinciotti, were also along for the ride.

Like a graybearded alchemist, Brecker turned brass into liquid fire, effortlessly shaping notes of great volume and clarity on trumpet and flugelhorn. As he inserted a mute into the bell of his horn before a sublime read of "Ballad of the Sad Young Men," Brecker asked the soundman to turn up his mike. But even without amplification, it's likely he would have been heard out in the parking lot.

Possessing enormous melodic gifts, the fiery-haired Arriale was hardly overshadowed. In fact, her assured touch and supple phrasing are quite compatible with the trumpeter's, as displayed from start to finish on-stage and on the new recording. Arriale used the platform Saturday to showcase Nuance, performing the album in its entirety (or damn near), but out of sequence. The program began with the mellow uplift of the pianist's spritely original "Carry On," a perfect kickoff that spotlighted the pairing of sparkling piano and burnished brass. The ensemble then delved into Sting's "Wrapped Around Your Finger," teasing out the cool, mysterious vibe of the song, which was particularly evident in Arriale's solo, one of her finest of the night.

The group also flexed well-honed bop muscles on an excellent and nonderivative read of Monk's "I Mean You," on which the musicians seemed to revel in the tricky, push-pull rhythms, and also hung fire on Dizzy's "Night in Tunisia," as drummer Pinciotti seemed to be channeling Roy Haynes or Max Roach. But the ensemble's ballad playing was breathtaking. On the aforemenioned "Ballad of the Sad Young Men" (check out my Examiner page for a brief history of the tune), Brecker's muted horn perfectly captured the song's aching wistfulness, contrasting beautifully with Arriale's brighter but no-less-contemplative solo and tender comping. Pinciotti's light touch with brushes and mallets and Mraz's minimalistic bass notes added sensitive shadings, and the bassist's fine, elegant solo that ushers the song to its close serves as a reminder why he's been in demand since emigrating from his native Czechoslovakia more than 40 years ago.

After intermission, Brecker played the second set entirely on the flugel, sacrificing none of his fluency or fluidity on the softer-sounding horn. The group dived right in on a dreamy, avant-garde-sounding read of "I Hear a Rhapsody," which was reminiscent of Freddie Hubbard's take on Beiderbecke's "In a Mist."

Always drawing a crowd in South Florida — where she's long performed for South Florida Jazz, the organization that brought her back Saturday for its Impressions series — Arriale proved a charming hostess. Dressed, as is her custom, in elegant stage attire, she introduced the spiky original "Yada Yada Yada" by explaining that European audiences were often confused by the idiom that entered our lexicon, like so many, via Seinfeld.

Look for Nuance in stores or online beginning May 12.

A young drummer sparks the Branford Marsalis Quartet

Branford Marsalis wouldn't choose just any old drummer to fill in for his longtime comrade Jeff "Tain" Watts. No, he selected a turbo-driven windmill named Justin Faulkner, and the recently turned 18-year-old stole the show from his accomplished bandmates Saturday night at the Gusman Center in downtown Miami.

A packed house roared its approval after each dynamic solo, even hooting wildly when the exciting young Philly drummer was augmenting solos by pianist Joey Calderazzo, bassist Eric Revis and saxophonist Marsalis; while the other musicians elicited sometimes enthusiastic, sometimes obligatory applause, there was no mistaking the exuberance this crowd felt for the battering batterista. "You don't have to live with him," Marsalis groused, as he jokingly implored the audience to tone down its appreciation for the sure-to-be-swell-headed Faulkner.

The quartet drew heavily from its excellent new recording, Metamorphosen (Marsalis Music), opening with its first two cuts. The pulse-quickening Watts composition "The Return of the Jitney Man" — which kicks off both Metamorphosen and Watts' recent self-titled release for Dark Key Music — provides a showcase for Marsalis' swift bop riffs on tenor and Calderazzo's equally fast-stepping runs. The foursome then downshifted into Calderazzo's lovely ballad "The Blossom of Parting," as Marsalis switched to soprano, getting a sweet, sentimental clarinet-like sound on the straight horn. As on the recording, the tune features a lengthy sax and drums duet. Faulkner truly made the most of the moment, his limbs blurring as he drummed up a hurricane-force reaction to Marsalis' masterful blowing, which was never overwhelmed or obscured by the percussive onslaught. Undoubtedly flashy, Faulkner never showboated at the expense of any song or bandmate.

The quartet also nodded to Thelonious Monk, an obvious influence on its rhythmic and harmonic approach, with a superb read of the bop icon's "Think of One," and revisited Marsalis' own "In the Crease," a burner from the early days of the quartet, which has now been together for 10 years. Returning to Metamorphosen, the group offered Marsalis' slippery "Jabberwocky," as the leader took his alto sax for a rare spin; another tearstained Calderazzo reflection in "The Last Goodbye"; Watts' intriguing "Samo," which cooked on a higher flame than on the recording; and Revis' beautifully toned solo showcase "And Then, He Was Gone." Unfortunately, several ADD-afflicted audience members took the last title literally and made a mass exodus to the bathroom or bar; perhaps goosed by Faulkner's spark-throwing displays, Revis also unleashed a few fleet-fingered (and somewhat superfluous) flurries that, predictably, brought wild applause.

In Faulkner, Marsalis has snared a young lion by the tail and seems to be enjoying the drummer's uncaged ferocity — not to mention the gape-mouthed, goggle-eyed reaction of audiences on both coasts. Make no mistake: Watts is indeed the percussive pivot on which this band turns, and he drives his bandmates as well as complements them with restraint and sublty and color, as is brilliantly evident on Metamorphosen. Still, there's something about hearing a young, unknown musician out to make his bones that brings another dimension of crackling electricity to this band.