Kurt Elling, WDR Big Band, In the Brass Palace Review

Load-Bearing Design: Kurt Elling & the WDR Big Band Construct In the Brass Palace

By Ferell Aubre

Kurt Elling & the WDR Big Band present In the Brass Palace as a co-equal partnership between singer and ensemble. The billing makes that clear from the outset. Released February 13, 2026, on Elling’s own Big Shoulders Records, the album positions itself as both an artistic statement and a structural declaration: a large-scale work built for full big band forces rather than episodic orchestral coloration. Across six extended tracks, each unfolding over six to nine minutes, the record suggests not a collection of songs but a six-movement design.

The shaping authority reinforces that impression. Bob Mintzer serves as conductor and contributing arranger, joined by Michael Abene, Tim Hagans, and Jim McNeely, four orchestrators whose collective presence signals distributed architectural authorship rather than a single arranging voice. Elling, credited as producer and lyricist, operates within this structure rather than above it. The phrasing and macro-contour of the ensemble feel conductor-shaped, chart-driven, and spatially conceived. The building is drawn before it is inhabited.

The repertoire underscores the project’s formal ambition. Canonical jazz compositions associated with Ellington, Thad Jones, Wayne Shorter, and Joe Zawinul are presented as re-engineered frameworks. Re-lyricizations and re-orchestrations reshape instrumental designs into expanded vocal-orchestral forms. The material is structurally reframed. Tradition provides the blueprint, but the rooms are remodeled.

Elling has described the project as a “sonic palace,” an image that proves more than metaphor. The orchestra functions as a constructed space: sectional chambers opening and closing, corridors of transition, vaulted climaxes supported by harmonic scaffolding. Unlike earlier recordings in which big band textures appeared intermittently, here the ensemble operates as central architecture. Recorded over multiple days in Studio 4 in Cologne, the controlled studio environment allows dynamic contour and sectional balance to be shaped with deliberation rather than captured live.

In the Brass Palace unfolds with an ear toward proportion: how themes are introduced, how solo space is carved and contained, how climaxes are positioned for structural impact. Across its six works, a recurring architectural logic—exposition, interior expansion, ensemble reinforcement, recalibrated return—remains audible. That logic persists across four arrangers and varied source material, pivoting around Elling’s placement within the form.

In Michael Abene’s “Steppin’ Out,” a full-ensemble introduction establishes the frame through unified hits. Elling’s entrance stabilizes that gesture into thematic proportion. When the arrangement opens into improvisation, Elling occupies the first expansion chamber, with ensemble figures layered beneath rather than withdrawn. Paul Heller’s tenor saxophone solo extends the arc before Hans Dekker’s drum feature, full of momentum, signals the big band return. Elling’s return aligns with increased density, transforming the head from restatement into reinforcement.

Bob Mintzer’s arrangement of Thad Jone’s “Desire” compresses the arc. A call-and-response introduction sets sectional dialogue in motion; Elling’s entry consolidates it. Rather than isolating instrumental solos as expansion engines, Mintzer supports beneath and around the vocal line. Reinforcement arrives through cumulative layering rather than a bounded shout chorus. The head reasserts itself within thickened voicings, its stability shaped by gradual build. Elling’s phrasing acts as an organizing axis through shifting sectional weight.

Jim McNeely’s “My Very Own Ride” presents the album’s clearest reinforcement model. After groove-based exposition, Elling initiates the interior span before the tenor saxophone extends it. A drum feature accelerates the form directly into a defined shout chorus. Elling’s absence during that surge clarifies its structural function: vertical reinforcement following layered expansion. His re-entry restores proportional balance. The sequence—foundation, vocal expansion, instrumental extension, percussive pivot, ensemble mass, stabilized return—appears here in concentrated form.

The ballad designs adapt the same principles at a slower rate. In “I Like the Sunrise,” Elling’s opening statement defines pacing and scale. Andy Haderer’s flugelhorn solo occupies the expansion zone before the ensemble thickens into a climactic swell, substituting for a traditional shout block. The return arrives heightened in contour, and the rubato coda releases accumulated energy. Reinforcement remains present, reshaped through orchestral gradation rather than sectional burst.

Similarly, “Current Affairs” begins with woodwind colors before Elling’s entrance establishes thematic ground. Mintzer’s tenor and Ruud Breuls’ trumpet solos extend the interior span; orchestration follows clear shapes. Brass mutes are removed, and orchestration is increased, a signal reinforcement without isolating a shout chorus. Elling’s re-entry aligns with expanded texture. The resolution unfolds through coordinated ensemble framing. Where McNeely accelerates toward collective assertion, Mintzer elongates and diffuses reinforcement.

Tim Hagans’ arrangement “They Speak No Evil” bridges these approaches. A post-bop introduction leads into Elling’s thematic statement, followed by vocal development on Wayne Shorter’s solo in a vocalese and a trombone solo by Andy Hunter. Only after these expansion zones does the ensemble gather into a defined shout chorus, compressing directly into a powerful cadence. The pacing differs, yet the underlying arc remains intact.

Elling establishes or stabilizes the head and frequently re-enters at reinforced ensemble weight. His cadential points coincide with density shifts, suggesting conductor-shaped coordination rather than incidental overlap.

The blueprint is neither rigid nor repetitive. It flexes in tempo and pacing. Some tracks accelerate toward mass; others thicken by degrees; some compress the return, others elongate it. Yet the macro-logic persists: foundation, interior span, reinforcement, stabilization. Room by room, the palace is constructed as a proportioned design.

In the Brass Palace defines itself through construction. Canonical compositions are recast within a shared large-ensemble logic. Identity emerges from proportion: how themes are established, how expansion is paced, how reinforcement is positioned, how returns are stabilized. Differences in groove and pacing articulate variation within a unified floor plan. Distributed authorship operates within consistent structural language.

Elling functions as a structural axis. He establishes thematic ground, initiates expansion, and re-enters at reinforced ensemble weight. Under Mintzer’s direction, density shifts and sectional articulations align with formal need. Vocalist and orchestra operate as interlocking elements of the same edifice.

With six extended tracks, In the Brass Palace unfolds architecturally rather than episodically. Escalations are supported. Climaxes are proportioned. Returns are stabilized.

The palace stands because its beams align.