Joe Temperley & Brian Kellock, Festival Theatre, Edinburgh,

Rob Adams THREE STARS

When Joe Temperley describes Brian Kellock as his favourite pianist it's no small compliment. In a career that took him to New York some fifty years ago and into the major jazz orchestras of the time, Temperley has played with many of the best.

His own musicianship is held in such high regard that, next month, the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra will play a concert - and a new concerto written in dedication to Temperley by Winton Marsalis - in his honour. So New York citizens may yet be treated to an "a' the way fae Lochgelly" introduction, as we were here, from this son of Fife.

Temperley's admiration for Kellock is well placed. In a couple of sets that included several visits to Temperley's former boss, Duke Ellington's catalogue, Kellock, who's not unfamiliar with Ellington's work, it's true, seemed to lend a suggestion at least of the Ellington horns alongside Temperley's baritone saxophone.

Now eighty-five Temperley might be excused for faltering occasionally because long experience has given him characterful phrasing that conveys real meaning. His sound on baritone can still be a thing of wonder and he solos with guile as the duo's playful swing through Thelonious Monk's knotty Rhythm-a-ning confirmed.

A switch to bass clarinet let Temperley demonstrate the virtues of ultra-slow pacing and controlled vibrato on Mood Indigo, where Kellock's harmonic creativity and grasp of the Ellington style shone, and if Temperley's bass clarinet reading of Send in the Clowns was a little functional, his return to baritone for My Love is Like a Red Red Rose made significant claims for Robert Burns as a blues poet.