The Brian Patneaude Quartet: Brilliance in Motion

By BradQuan Copeland.

On the third Thursday of the month, I parked my car and pressed my way through the brisk autumn wind of a hushed, dusky evening to the Stella Pasta Bar and Bistro, where the Brian Patneaude Quartet was set to take the stage at the adjoining Van Dyck Music Club. I couldn’t help but admire the building upon first sight: a 19th-century Federal-style brick structure with a hint of Victorian influence. Resting at the weathered roof’s tip lay lush emerald climbing ivy—the cherry atop a romantic sundae, further adorned by sprinkles of iron-walled lanterns. 

I entered a relic and was met with the saturation of clamored chatter amid an atmosphere of elegance. Dark, richly toned mahogany took residence throughout the dining hall. Surrounding me were impeccably polished pillars, dim lighting fashioned by the glow of a chandelier, and along the bar’s interior wall shelves sat portraits radiating a modern-expressionist allure. 

Once 6:30 p.m. hit, showgoers began to line up and make their way up the black staircase lined with a gold-diamond-motif carpet into the Van Dyck Music Club room. Laid out like a private bar and restaurant, the space exuded exclusivity. I took my seat at a black wooden table as acclaimed saxophonist Sarah Hanahan played through the mounted speakers, setting the tone for the night. 

I ordered a pasta dish and made light conversation as time dwindled with graceful haste. Suddenly, it was seven minutes to showtime, and the bassist made his way onto the stage to tune his axe. Bearing Nikki Sixx–tinted glossy black hair, he swiftly yet confidently set himself for the night as the others made their way onstage. 

The quartet was draped in sleek, minimalist chic. Their blacked-out attire radiated pure vigor, with no need for flair, matching the laid-back sophistication of the bohemian crowd. They began smoothly, introduced by their personable and wholesome saxophonist and bandleader, Brian Patneaude. Alongside him were bassist Jarod Grieco, drummer Danny Whelchel, and pianist Rob Lindquist—who, interestingly enough, once served as my music teacher at Myers Middle School some years ago. 

Their opening set draped the room in a contemporary hue of urban limelight. I couldn’t help but envision brownstone buildings on a sunny afternoon, leaves trickling from above as pedestrians wrapped in light coats treaded the pavement with cups of warmth in hand. This was a dope night. 

They only raised the bar as the mood shifted to that of light rainfall—the kind where you sit at home on your sofa, wide blinds half-drawn, admiring the natural glow of daylight through the window as droplets race downward, merging into larger beads before falling into restless puddles. These guys were in a flow state: furrowed brows, feet tapping, heads nodding, and the gentle silence of dancing lips melting into proud smiles as the crowd applauded. Entranced in tunnel vision, I noticed nothing in my surrounding sight—only the presence of the forward light of brilliance in motion. 

The presence of soul was hefty as they blessed the crowd with a lulled angst that stirred an undeniable hunger for more. Each piece told a story—a modern classic of family and societal struggle unfolding in real time, slowly unveiling the vitality that breathes within its timeless frame. The unison of the quartet felt undeniably familial, with three of the four having known each other for over twenty years and the bassist once a student of the saxophonist. 

Following the show’s completion, the lively pulse of communal warmth bloomed with full force. Band members were congratulated by a heartily fed and pleasantly buzzed crowd of admirers, as well as their families. Before heading out, I got the opportunity to interview my former teacher, pianist Rob Lindquist, for some further insight. 

Interview with Rob Lindquist 

RRX: When I saw the flyer for tonight’s show, I noticed your name and instantly remembered you as my teacher during my middle school days. It made me curious about the evolution of your craft. Do you feel that same fire you passed and still continue to pass on to your students, or has the passion taken on a new form for you? 

RL: Hmm … a passion for playing, you’re talking about? 

RRX: Yes sir. 

RL: Absolutely. No, I think it’s grown. It’s maybe changed over the years, and it’s become—I guess it’s matured as I’ve matured. So, different things drive me now. Maybe I wanted to do one specific type of thing back then, and now I try to branch out into other styles of music. I started out more with jazz, and now I’m getting into more funk-related stuff, more Latin influences—different things in the music. 

RRX: I love that. 

RL: Yeah, gospel too—a lot of different music. I think I listen to a lot more music than I used to. 

RRX: So it’s expanded your range? 

RL: Yeah, it’s kind of expanded it. By getting into other styles, it keeps the interest going. It keeps the passion alive. 

RRX: Absolutely. They say jazz lives between control and chaos—what does that space feel like when you’re inside it, your fingers gliding across the keys as you shape sound in real time?

RL: Yeah, so it’s very freeform. Kind of like speaking—you don’t have to prepare what you’re going to say; you just say what you’re thinking at the moment. So, it’s a matter of trusting yourself and letting go at the same time. Trusting right now, and then trying to, to some extent, forget—you know, just play. Not think, “I’m gonna do this here, I’m gonna play these exact notes.” You just kind of enter a place where you let go, feel connected to the people around you, and try to create something nice. 

RRX: Given your years of teaching music, along with your present ability to perform it in such an elevated yet intimate way, how do you think the act of teaching has shaped the way you play? 

RL: I like that—“the act of teaching.” Being an active teacher, how does that affect my music outside of school? So, I guess … there are certain ways of learning. With different students, students learn in different ways. It’s all about breaking things down. For kids, sometimes I have to break things down a certain way for them to get it. And for myself, I’ve learned how to maybe practice a little bit better because I understand—okay, I’m actually a lot like some of these kids. I can’t understand something unless I approach it a certain way. So how can I slow down what I’m doing? I think teaching strengthens what’s important about what I need to learn: rhythm, slowing down, not rushing through things. That’s also helped me in my own playing—focusing on good rhythm, good pitch, good feel, and being aware of it through active listening. I actively listen to kids play, and that awareness translates back into my own musicianship. 

RRX: I love it. My next question—what does a night like this mean to you? Performing in a space like the Van Dyck, surrounded by your hometown crowd and your family? 

RL: It’s great. I mean, I used to play here occasionally. I’ve seen a lot of shows here—a lot of famous people have come through. So whenever I get a chance to play here, whether it’s a jam session or a full gig, it’s always an honor. This is a legendary place. A lot of great musicians have played here and enjoyed playing here. It’s an honor to play here, and it’s great to see the place up and running again, doing the music, and supporting the local scene. 

RRX: Rock and roll! And my final question: if jazz could speak in words instead of notes, what story do you think tonight’s set is trying to tell? 

RL: Oh, that’s interesting. I guess you’d have to talk to Brian about his music—it’s all his compositions. But it seems to be based on his life experiences, his family. Each song has its own kind of personal message for him. It’s nice to see, and nice to be a part of helping bring his vision to life. 

RRX: Understood, man. I really appreciate you. 

RL: Yeah, dude—come on out again!

RRX: Will do! And you’ll be here with your own band when?

RL: The third week of December. It’s the third Thursday we’re doing. 

RRX: Nice. Yeah man, I’m looking forward to it. If I can, I’ll definitely swing by again—I’ll bring some guys along with me! 

RL: Yeah, yeah—absolutely. It’ll be great! It was nice talking with you, man.