Click here to [close]

Soft Machine: John Etheridge (g), Fred T. Baker (b), Theo Travis (ww, keys), Asaf Sirkris (dr)

Nica, Hamburg, Oct 2026

Marta Warelis (p), Sam Pluta (el), Camila Nebbia (ts), Joanna Mattrey (v), Kathrin Pechlof (h), Andro Manzoni (viz)

Schorndorf, Manufaktur, October 2026

Ahmed] أحمد: Pat Thomas (p), Joel Grip (b), Antonin Gerbal (dr), Seymour Wright (as)

Ludwigshafen, Das Haus, October 2026

Monday, November 2, 2026

Jazz em Agosto, 42nd edition 2026 (Part 1)

By David Cristol

Jazz em Agosto took place over ten days in the heart of the summer, with a bold programming that has become the norm for the manifestation. Stellar line-ups and excellent listening conditions make the festival a favorite of audiences, artists and critics. With 14 concerts and the aim of "presenting the current creative and original state of jazz" according to artistic director Rui Neves, this year's edition was another winner. 

 

Joachim Kühn. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música
The opening act was set in the big auditorium of the Gulbenkian Foundation. The supreme venue, which stage stands in front of large glass walls overlooking the Foundation's gardens with wildlife, previously welcomed ensembles by Nicole Mitchell, Nate Wooley, XT, as well as the Sylvie Courvoisier/Cory Smythe duo, and Shane Parish solo. The striking architecture gives an extra layer of grandeur to a rare solo performance by pianist Joachim Kühn, who was involved in all the developments of jazz since the 1960s. It's a celebration of the piano. He kicks things off with a 40-minute abstract improvisation. His stream-of-consciousness extemporizations initially owe more to classical music motions and impulses than to the jazz vocabulary, but prove terrific all the same, as his cavalcades of notes take the audience on a spontaneous and heartfelt journey, not relying on any trusted tricks or routines. What follows increasingly leans into free jazz territory. Kühn doesn't need a formal structure to let his ideas flow. He's not going for the spectacular either, that would be the easy route. Clear-cut melodies are eschewed in favor of waves and cells, forays into microscopic ruminations, dark lullabies and brooding ad-libs, slowly but surely leading to epic flights. The music shape-shifts, and goes in virtually any direction. No high concept, no extramusical discourse and no filler. It seems as if the fingers have a mind of their own, without ideas being filtered by the brain. As a double encore, we get two songs by Ornette Coleman : "Somewhere" and "Researching has no limits"- that title pretty well summing up the performance. 

David Maranha and Rodrigo Amado. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música
Day two starts with a duo of Lisbon-based artists, David Maranha and Rodrigo Amado. They join forces in the great-sounding auditorium 2, the indoors venue where the more experimental gigs take place in the late afternoons. Theirs is not a first encounter but a continued exploration, as evidenced on 2024's Wrecks and 2026's Desolation Row albums, both recommended to readers of this blog and with liner notes by master Stuart Broomer accompanying the newest title. An interesting tension arises from the association of Amado's jazz vocabulary and Maranha's electric organ and effects that build modal soundscapes and ambient layers for the tenor saxophonist to improvise, spout swirling motifs, throw raucous darts, focus on one repeated note or long-held growls, investigating the whole instrument's range in the spirit of freedom he's accustomed listeners to. Although the uninterrupted set doesn't seem to have a beginning, end or arc, it sustains interest throughout and is met with a standing ovation. 

Canyon. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música
Another bona fide improvised set follows on the outdoors stage. A particularly exciting one for this listener, who sees Joe Morris live for the first time, after having enjoyed his recordings, on both bass and guitar, alongside well-known players as well as young talent, for a couple decades. It's Canyon's second gig only. The New York quartet, made up of Jerome Deupree (drums, of 1990s band Morphine and a colleague of Morris since 1985), Sylvie Courvoisier (prepared and unprepared piano), Lester St. Louis (cello) and Morris (double bass), have a self-titled double CD out on Fundacja SÅ‚uchaj. Morris was the honoree at this year's Vision Festival in June of this year. Total improv is always a risky endeavour, a collective walk on a tightrope. Courvoisier and St. Louis are extrovert players, the former digging into her repository of techniques and signature moves (percussive clangs, swarms of notes, playing on the strings to get a harpsichord-like sound...), the latter supplying creaks at breaking point and harmonics-filled glissandi, while the bass and drums pair maintain a collected, counter-spectacular bearing, Deupree a paragon of restraint on his instrument and Morris quietly connecting the dots and steering the ship. The initial scattering gradually gives way to keen mutual listening from band members, intent on making each other sound good without relinquishing their distinct temperaments. Once balance is found, there is nowhere the quartet can't go, with seamless transitions from busy waves to sparse lulls, impressionnistic sequences to rhythmical ones. A piano-less trio segment also engagingly reshuffles the deck for a while.

Shardik. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música
A John Zorn-produced venture, Shardik is the brainchild of guitarist/composer Matt Hollenberg (Simulacrum), and brings a punk-funk spin on the metal-jazz genre, boasting bands such as Kilter and Imperial Triumphant and of which an early incarnation were Secret Chiefs 3, of which Hollenberg is now a member. Bubbly bass, heavy riffs, more bounce than your average kangaroo tribe, and themes that owe something to Zorn's Bagatelles, Masada and Dreamers songbooks. Not surprising considering how closely Hollenberg is involved with Manhattan's main magus - most currently with the Flatlands trio. Another obvious influence is that of the Mahavishnu Ochestra. Around Hollenberg are Sana Nagano on oddly-shaped electric violin, Nick Jost on electric bass and Danny Sher on drums. At times the music gels into delicious psychedelic concoctions - only for short spells though, for the imported, competitive New York ethos means hitting hard and running to the next phase without delay. However, the outdoors setting gives the whole thing a different perspective than the same music played in a Brooklyn club; Hollenberg savours the configuration where audience and band are united as in a ritual. Indeed this is no place for superficial consumerism, and the music is lent a sacred function with attendees ready to be moved, elevated, maybe changed. The song-length tunes are tightly organized, with sharp turns and millimetric cues. An athletic feat for the performers, with plenty of challenges to tackle. Not revolutionary maybe, but damn enjoyable, with the egoless relationship between members also working in the music's favor. The full Cruelty Bacchanal album is played, plus tunes from the previous album and an improvisation as the last number. Hollenberg is surprised at the request for an encore, New York audiences seemingly having enough after shorter sets! 

Fred Moten & Brandon Lopez. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música
Next up is the politically aware duo of thinker and poet Fred Moten and bassist Brandon Lopez. Double bass with poetry reading is a rare sight, at least for European audiences, but it belongs to an age-old US tradition going back to Lenny Bruce, Jack Kerouac and the Beat poets encounters with jazzmen, from the 1940s onwards. The fact that Sonny Stitt and Zoot Sims are namechecked reinforces that connection. After all, jazz and poetry are a meaningful combination of two rebellious, social-conscious artforms. A pair of bongos stands between both artists and they caress it with the palm of the hand or give it finger taps, while also coaxing sounds from the double bass, humming along in the case of Lopez and triggering foley sounds and jazz samples from a laptop, as sound signifiers, for Moten. The lyrics are laden with references to jazzmen and jazz tunes as well as early hip-hop wordsmiths. The delivery is low-key, poised, with a slightly ironical distance. The bass adapts to the mood and rhythm of the words, and provides punctuation. The abstruse or metaphorical character of the texts makes it difficult to fully grasp their meaning in one listen. But they also work as purely sonic elements, reaching ears and minds. In addition to playing the bass in orthodox fashion, Lopez generates murmurs by polishing the wood of its body. A fearless programming choice typical of Jazz em Agosto and one of this edition's best. 

L.U.M.E. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música
L.U.M.E. aka Lisbon Underground Music Ensemble is a well-oiled machine which 20th-year celebration offers a pot-pourri of the Ensemble's history, without a perceivable unifying theme or statement of intent. It encompasses everything from early jazz to 1970s jazz-rock, disco and Steve Reich repetition, the whole thing as remote from 2026 trends as it gets, and heedless to the world's turmoil. Fine soloists bring the colorful, light-hearted, sometimes openly comedic arrangements to life, with leader/composer/pianist/keyboardist Marco Barroso conducting improvised ensemble passages with a sure hand.

Bonbon Flamme. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música
In the Fifties and Sixties, Dave Brubeck came back from world tours with a series of "Impressions" albums - from the U.S.A., New York, Japan and Eurasia. Likewise, French cellist Valentin Ceccaldi came back from a trip to Mexico with flavors, tones and textures in mind, which inspired him to found the quartet Bonbon Flamme with a team of like-minded players to serve his polychromatic purpose. What we get amounts to a European version of Tropicalia, with the help of Lisbon guitar-hero Luis Lopes, free agent keyboardist Fulco Ottervanger and jittery drummer Etienne Ziemniak. Ceccaldi also admits to a passion for Alan Shorter's Orgasm, which might give another clue as to the unlabelable hodgepodge unveiled. Feathery downtempo numbers and ecstatic rock workouts share an intoxicating psychedelic bent, that makes use of simple riffs, crackling synthesizer sounds, twangy effects, disorienting arrangements with initial structural landmarks blurring and disappearing into floriferous freeform jams. Solos are short and enmeshed in the compositions. A hypnotizing voyage, with an immaculate first half-hour, and final song "Tres Calaveras" a climax - a pensive guitar-cello vehicle, with Ottervanger's high-pitched, wordless vocals turning it into a musical cousin of Hermeto Pascoal's moody "Little Church". The charged, raspy rock forays, hallucinogenic abstractions as well as the infinitely tender pieces are nothing short of greatness. However, the spell is temporarily endangered by a couple tongue-in-cheek pieces, with cutesy synth sounds and attempts at cartoonish humor. This caveat notwithstanding, a brilliant set.

Sunday, November 1, 2026

Anthony Braxton 4tet - Live in Châteauvallon 1973

Here’s Anthony Braxton from 1973 playing with a quartet featuring the late, great trumpeter Kenny Wheeler, with Jean-François Jenny-Clark on bass and Charles "Bobo" Shaw on drums. They are performing Braxton’s compositions 23C, B and D. The first is one of Braxton’s wonderfully knotty yet hummable compositions and the rest of the band happily keeps pace.

There’s lots of space for improvisation, with Braxton playing his usual wide variety of horns. Kenny Wheeler is a delight to hear in any setting and he seems to love playing these Braxton compositions. The video gets bonus marks for Braxton’s 70s sideburns which are truly a thing of beauty.

Saturday, October 31, 2026

Antoine Chessex & Dave Phillips - Vrhaltnis (Coherent States-Krim Kram Records, 2026)

By Fotis Nikolakopoulos

Coming, both artists, from different fields of sound and audio making, one might ask why this recording is being presented here. Of course this is never an easy answer, but having to defend my choice, I’d say that the key word is improvisation. Not as a genre on its own, one that should define the sound produced by those two sound makers. Predominantly as a way of thinking, a practice that involves rethinking of old material and producing new only by being open to what will happen next.

Both artists, Antoine Chessex and Dave Phillips, have a long history in sound making (I would like to insist in this term rather than music making) and a long standing friendship too. They have been exchanging ideas and playing together for the past twenty years. Actually the source material for the two tracks consisting this CD, dates back two decades ago from a live performance in, and some studio time, in Switzerland.

Coming to the key word for this release, one that also involves chance, this material was reworked and manipulated in such a way that what is new and what is old, in terms of sound, is impossible to distinguish. Obviously and always there’s a lot of hard work behind all this, behind trying to present something new. One could say that this release borders at what we call noise, but this is the 21 st century and who can really tell or put exact limits on what we are listening? It could also be musique concrete. When Albert Ayler was blowing his sax, wasn’t it called non-music or, even, “noise”?

The two tracks unfold in a non linear way, denying, I believe, the gestures of time keeping (“what is old and what is new” exactly) or what is normal when you listen to a recording. They tend to breathe in and out, like inhaling sounds and exhaling sentiments, morphing, as you listen more and more, into a shapeless entity that has only sound in its definition. No genre, label or whatever else pins down free expression. Totally liberated in many ways.

Listen here:
 

Friday, October 30, 2026

Sopie Duner & Anthony Coleman - Messed Up Stride (Urlicht AudioVisual, 2026)

By Sammy Stein 

Sophie Duner has released albums both as a solo artist and alongside names including Gene Ptirsker, Jeremy Harman, and Dominic Duval, as well as with the Callino Quartet. Her musical style is eclectic, and while she remains rooted in jazz, her free-wheeling and versatile talent means she can switch to almost any genre.

On her album Messed Up Stride, Duner teams with pianist Anthony Coleman, a well-known avant-garde pianist who worked with John Zorn on several projects in the 1980s and 90s. He has been in groups Sephardic Tinge and Selfhaters and has been involved in many projects across the world.

The PR describes this as a ‘fearless album,’ and it is that. It was recorded at Atlantis Studios, Stockholm, the studio behind ABBA's "Waterloo," "Dancing Queen," and "Mamma Mia."

About the recording, Duner comments, “‘ Messed-Up Stride’ is the result of a musical vision I’ve had in mind for quite some time. I’m really grateful that pianist Anthony Coleman picked up on my idea for these slightly twisted, stride-inspired tunes! We certainly had fun recording them.”

Duner has worked on some of the compositions for 15 years, and in Coleman she comments, “He really sounds like an entire group. He was exactly the pianist I needed."

The music draws on Charles Mingus, Eric Mingus, George Antheil, Charles Ives, Scott Joplin, John Zorn, Fats Waller, Marc Ribot, and more. The album delivers songs that are pointed, witty, inimitable, and memorable– and nothing that you would expect given the influences. Duner and Coleman seemingly delight in taking themes, rotating them, adding snippets from familiar jazz numbers, and adding their twist. Coleman maintains a (more or less) traditional ingredient with steadfast backing, rhythmic pattern, and some really well-worked solo work, which tempers Duner, who is often off on a journey of her own – yet, despite this, she never loses the connection with what Coleman is doing in his interpretations.

‘Mad World’ is a wonderful opener and exploration of vocal techniques and range. Duner’s character shines like a laser, while her voice soars and dips in seemingly chaotic but actually thoughtful, controlled ways. The track was inspired by the Bulgarian Voices Choir and is a story of contrasts – bitter burning sweet, and chaos finding its groove. Duner’s voice is mesmerising, but couple that with rolling, thunderous, deeply textured piano from Coleman, and it is no wonder this track hits home and engages like an electric charge to the brain. There are gentle phrases too, which contrast beautifully with the tuneful, throaty rasps that Duner delivers.

In Contrast, ‘Two Rabbits on Wall Street’ is a staccato-laced, forcefully delivered number with sudden outlets of energy and rivulets of scat, all across some hearty and well-honed boogie woogie, amongst other styles, which Coleman switches in and out of in mercurial ease. This polytonal number in 9/4 was inspired by porcelain rabbits sold on Wall Street – a meditation on the illusion of money as magic. Frenetic, polytonal, and arrhythmic at times, this is a wonderful number.

‘Better Get Hit In Your Soul’ features a solo intro from Coleman before he settles into a bluesy, rhythmic pattern, across which Duner scats and muses, across Coleman’s now stride style as he pounds left-hand rhythms across the keyboard. Those rhythms are familiar, as this number is a cover of Mingus’s work. Duner studied with Eric Mingus, so no wonder the Mingus touch is there, affected so respectfully by Coleman. Dener’s voice is shown in its instrumental glory on this number.

‘Complicated Love Affair’ is aptly named for its changeable musical concepts, but what stands out is Dener’s voice – she purrs, she slides and glides, and her range is over three octaves here – from chest voice to operatic virtuosity, she delivers with aplomb across Coleman’s empathic playing.

‘Watch Your Pitch Bitch’ is a slightly deranged number delivered with tongue-in-cheek sassiness, and Coleman definitely feels the energy on this one, delivering perfectly timed counterpoint chords, while ‘Mad Monk’ is a gorgeous play on Monkish themes, that bass line working hard, over which Duner’s vocals float like a madcap whirlwind. A brilliant number.

‘I Ain't Taking Orders From No One’ is as feisty as it sounds, and Duner delivers brilliantly, while Coleman maintains a calming influence in his gentler riffs and rhythm patterns.

‘Post Traumatic Ripoff’ was inspired by the changing world we live in and the emotional costs of being taken advantage of. Duner lets rip, duetting with herself, in this strangely cathartic number.

‘Reharmonized Boyfriend’ is sharp, contrasting with softer phrases, and was inspired by the everlasting circle of relationships and going back to routine.

This album is a beautifully delivered concept and shows how two musicians from different arenas can come together to create something special. Coleman’s sense of rhythm, alongside Duner’s eclectic but somehow cohesive music-making skills, creates an engaging sense of involvement. The recording does what so many truly good recordings do, and that is, they deliver music that offers the listener layers – first it sounds chaotic, then the realisation of the way they work in contrast and also harmony hits until the deep connection between the musicians is clear.

Wednesday, October 28, 2026

Henry Threadgill’s Zooid - Cut You Where You Was (Pi Recordings, 2026)


 
Recorded history may be a boon to humanity, but it has also benefited the privileged. How many stories have fallen silent once all witnesses have passed away? Even more troubling is the reality that many of the earliest recordings, both in writing and in audio, fell to those who were privileged enough to have access to time, education, and materials. If you were taught how to write and read, and happened to be near paper, say in 4000 BCE Asia or 150 BCE Greece, you may have had the historical honor of writing something down. In the United States at the dawn of the audio recording industry, a box of two or three wax cylinders might cost you $15 apiece, depending on what inflation calculator you use. This is to say nothing of the price of the recording or playback equipment involved. If you didn’t have the cash, you weren’t going to be recording anything unless somebody who did have the cash wanted to make a profit off of recording you.
 
And all of this only begins the discussion I think Henry Threadgill is most interested in on the Zooid’s latest release Cut You Where You Was. The notes on the Pi Recordings website say that Threadgill is fascinated by early audio recording processes. One of the most notable of these qualities is the frustratingly short duration available for each recording. You don’t think Louis Armstrong didn’t want to stretch out on those Hot Fives Chicago takes?
 
So, here we are in 2026 with digital recording and what can sometimes feel like an overabundance of preserved information. A musician who has access to these tools, has recorded numerous legendary works, has released a high-profile book on his life, and has won the Pulitzer Prize, uses his platform to explore what might happen if you have something important to say, but have limited technology to preserve that statement.
 
Cut You Where You Was, while containing two songs in the six to ten minute range, features some of the Zooid’s shortest pieces to date. Five of the ten tracks do not even reach the two minute mark. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing the first full listen I completed of the album. Seriously, I thought a glitch had occurred, because there was no way that, say “Lightnin’,” the eighth song on the album, was only one and a half minutes long.
 
What I find fascinating about this album is what it does with these self-imposed, self-conscious, music-socio-exploratory limitations.
 
Listen, for example, to a trio of works titled “Bingo.” Each track, labeled “Part 1,” “Part 2,” and “Part 3” clearly are intended to be understood as one set, three parts to one work. Threadgill, who uses his flute to spend “Part 1” interacting delicately with tuba player Jose Davila and guitarist Liberty Ellman, sounds all but cut-off when the work ends around the 2:10 mark. “Part 2” then picks up with the band approaching full tilt, with flute, tuba and guitar much more kinetic. To me, it feels like I have missed something, the development between these two sections is gone. “Part 3” then opens with Threadgill on an insistent percussive alto sax. Now drummer Elliot Humberto Kavee produces thundering rolls on toms and Christopher Hoffman saws away on cello. Where did this new energy and altered instrumentation come from? The music, beautiful as it may be, seems like it has had sections gone unrecorded until the engineer replaced the new wax cylinder or fed the new tape into the four track machine. 
 
This brevity, in turn, allows listeners to perceive just how much is missed with “Red Admiral Red Moon Rising.” Cutting the album directly in half at track number five, “Red Moon” is the most expansive of these new works and lasts over twelve minutes. The piece features gorgeously lyrical cello work by Hoffman, who uses variations of Threadgill’s intervallic compositional system to paint a single line that eventually sweeps across the sonic atmosphere until it chortles into a section of staccato bow strokes and a final downward glissando that Threadgill echoes when he follows with his own solo. So much of Threadgill’s solo speaks back to Hoffman that I wonder if large sections have been written out. If so, their voices mimic a conversation among close friends. If improvised, their voices are a conversation among close friends. Ellman then enters with a guitar solo, also closely mirroring the melodic and rhythmic material from the saxophone solo. It turns out that when intelligent voices are given a chance to speak, they have important information to relay. 
 
The eighth Zooid album, falling some twenty-five years after the band’s first recording Up Popped The Two Lips, demonstrates again just how much music Threadgill has in him and how clearly intricate and malleable the intervallic system of composing and improvising can be. This is far more than some academic exercise for a panel of Columbia jurors. Cut You Where You Was allows listeners to examine what happens when voices are silenced and to witness what is missing when these voices fully enter the conversation. And if one needs any more evidence that this is an important document, one can simply look at how many voices have been officially cut out of the conversation in the United States in just the month that has followed the record’s August 2026 release. Cut You Where You Was has already proven prescient. And, despite the trenchant insight of its art, I wish it were less so. 
 
Cut You Where You Was can be heard here: 
 

Tuesday, October 27, 2026

Wenchi Lazo and Luciana Bass - Mientras Exista (Self-released, 2026)

By Hrayr Attarian

Argentinian guitarists Wenchi Lazo and Luciana Bass are intrepid improvisers and virtuosic performers. In solo settings or in a group, both push the boundaries of musical expression and aren't afraid to experiment. is their first recorded collaboration, and it is a stimulating set of seven duets that not only demonstrates their camaraderie but also their superb individual musicianship.

The pieces are intimate and mostly contemplative. “Con Reglos”, for instance, is made up of sparse strums and single notes that echo in the intervening pauses. The tempo increases at the midpoint, but then the introspective dialogue returns to its quiet yet expectant mood. Both artists anticipate one another’s phrases and respond with poignancy and grace, even when they embrace thrilling dissonance.

In contrast, “Porción de Sigio” is more mellifluous and serene. The shimmering exchanges build a darkly abstract ambiance. At times, the blend of ethereal sounds and lyricism gives the tune an otherworldly, lullaby-like aura. The result is a haunting and poetic conversation, or rather an overlap of two complementary yet distinct monologues.

At times, the improvisations grow fiery, and the interplay between Lazo and Bass becomes delightfully riotous. “Si Lo Zamarrea el Chucho” is a dense and passionate soundscape, with each guitarist taking their turn weaving twangy lines and blistering chords into a provocative, spontaneous creation. The mood is spirited and exciting, with hefty doses of both angst and whimsy.

The album closes with the haunting and futuristic “Poncho Gradual”. Here, the pair uses silence as a third band member, carefully positioning their melodic fragments for a memorable effect. Thus, the track feels like a theme for an eerie, transcendent ritual and the perfect conclusion to this brilliant, absorbing recording.

Mientras Existais a beautiful work that is not self-indulgent, even though it demands close listening. For those who are willing to surrender to its charm, however, it makes for an intensely rewarding experience.

Monday, October 26, 2026

Sunny Murray/Sabu Toyozumi - Sun’s Blessings (Nobusiness Records, 2026)

By Ferruccio Martinotti

Ah, what gifts music offers us! Forgive such a banal intro, but it's the first thought that comes to mind just by having an album like this in our hands, even before listening to it. We're faced with a true Clash of the Titans, or rather, a Clash of the Eras that gives rise to a historical moment. The date is April 4, 1999, and the host of this "Rumble In The Mountain" is Hokkaido, Sapporo's Zippy Hall, a small venue with a capacity of 130 (lucky them…) people. 

On one side of the ring, from Idabel, Oklahoma, James Marcellus Arthur "Sunny" Murray, embodying the Classic Period of our music and the incredible epic that permeated it. Among the first, along with Milford Graves, to unchain the drums from purely rhythmic tasks and push them to explore uncharted timbral textures, Murray was the sword arm of Cecil Taylor and Albert Ayler, with whom he recorded At The Café Montmartre and Spiritual Unity, two albums that moved The Clock forward 20 years, to which it is ontologically impossible to attribute any star. His collaborations with Archie Shepp, Dave Burrell, Arthur Doyle, and David Murray are extraordinary, while his hyper saturated solo release Sonny’s Time Now, (Ayler, Cherry, Grimes and Worrell to complete the monstrous line-up), is in the Hall of Fame of our all-time favorites. “One of those crucial figures in jazz who appear just when they are needed”, said Val Wilmer about him. 

On the opposite side of the square, from Yokohama, Japan, sits Yoshisaburo “Sabu” Toyozumi, an affiliate, together with Kaoru Abe, Masayuki Takayanagi, Masahiko Togaghi, Masahiko Sato and Mototeru Takagi, with the Sonic Terrorists Squad that pushed free music where no one thought it was possible. We've always liked to think that, if the Free of the '60s was the punk of jazz, the subsequent European school was its hardcore declination, but from the Land of the Rising Sun they pulverized even this, going further, much further. Since you're here, this is probably a redundant suggestion, but if by chance you haven't already, by all means get Soejima Teruto's book Free Jazz in Japan: A Personal History, an unmissable account of that period and those fearless characters. In 1971, Toyozumi became the first non-American member of the AACM and in the following years actively participated in inviting some of his Masters, such as Broetzmann, Bailey, Mengelberg, and Murray himself, to play in Japan. The Clash of Sapporo, which unfolds through two songs, "Mischievous Saga" and "Brave Warriors," is not wrestling, it's a real fight between top-notch Heavyweights, punching with nothing but their drums and cymbals, no other instruments, no post-production. 

While we'd listened to (without being too keen on) a few solo drums records, an outfit like this represents an absolute novelty for us, one that has won us over unconditionally. Don't get misled by figuring out an individual, sterile show of strength, since here we have by both the contenders, the clear, shared aim to join forces to generate a brand new Mega Rhythm. It would be perhaps a sterile exercise to talk about interplay between two drummers, but what emerges from the album in an absolutely compelling way is the willingness (there's no need to waste a single syllable on their skills, obviously) of the two Champions to mutually find common ground, within dynamics that are sometimes seismic, sometimes more delicate (relatively speaking...), or to leave part of these spaces to the other, in a smooth and natural way, without the listener feeling like one of them is putting down the drumsticks for a while. 

Not easy listening for sure, but Forum’s readers will certainly have no problems tackling this 65 minutes of challenging music from a one of a kind, extraordinary album. No ifs or buts. 

 

Sunday, October 25, 2026

Lao Dan and Vasco Trilla @ Old Heaven Books

While doing a little browsing about the NoBusiness record label's website, this video jumped out - a performance by the masterful musicians Lao Dan and Vasco Trilla (woodwinds and percussion, respectively). The duo released a recording together on the label called New Species in 2025 and this performance was captured at Old Heaven Books in Shenzhen, China. 

The first two video's of the performance are shared here, in which we first encounter Lao Dan playing a traditional Chinese clarinet-like instrument, followed by part two where he switches wooden flute. The later links to parts 3 and 4 lead to Trilla's Youtube channel where the saxophone come into play.

 

 Part 1

 

Part 2

See: Part 3 & Part 4 

Saturday, October 24, 2026

Ivo Perelman and Matt Shipp - Duologues 7: Distillation (Squid Note, 2026)

By Sammy Stein

Pianist Matthew Shipp and tenor saxophonist Ivo Perelman have developed a three-decade-long musical relationship where both musicians explore improvisation in a collaboration that continues to develop. Each of them plays with different musicians and continues on their individual musical journey, but when they come together, the distillation of the experience results in an ever-developing relationship and one where each allows the other to bring whatever new ideas they have to the table, no matter if these are predictable or unexpected, disruptive, and revelatory.

As they continually circle back to each other and record, the language of their music changes in subtle ways. Both musicians have played alongside and collaborated with many other musicians, while they remain powerfully individual; their shared knowledge shines through in their collaborations.

What comes of three decades or more of collaboration is an immediacy of reaction and interaction – a kind of musical telepathy that is difficult to capture but is apparent to the listener. Neither always leads nor always follows, but both revel in shifting emphasis, nuances that only come from playing with someone over time. This is reflected by the way one will introduce a new idea, or pathway, and the other will reflect the same idea, not as imitation but as recognition – a deep, intuitive echo.

Their playing has become not so much a conversation, as is often the case between improvising musicians listening intently to each other, but is more of a shared delivery, a unanimous development of ideas shared with the listener.

Both have worked in larger configurations, but the saxophone-piano duo reveals each at their most exposed and far from the prosaic. Their previous projects have shown their duo evolution from different perspectives, demonstrating how freely improvised music can acquire coherence not through predetermined structure but through accumulated trust, memory and intense listening.

Duologue 7: Distillation sees Perelman and Shipp back in the exposed, elemental setting of just piano and sax and one-take sessions of completely improvised recordings that give enough material for two CDs. There is no need to explain; there is just the music and the melodic fragments, insertions of traditional tunes alongside completely improvised phrases, silence (which is used so effectively), rhythmic pattern changes, sudden register switches, and a duologue that at times is expressed almost as voices rather than music, as both musicians find the full range of their instruments.

With Shipp and Perelman, there is no revisiting history, no repeating of anything that has gone before, but a new dialogue each time, bringing with it the familiar rhythmic intensity, changes, and multi-register expression, but also new ideas, perhaps picked up in the time they spend apart in other projects, and they challenge, support and improvise alone as feels right, communicating their deep and long-lasting collaboration but also offering the listener a new take on just how good music can be with no score.

The two-CD set comprises nine tracks on disc 1 and ten on disc two, numbered, as ever, track 1-9 (disc 1) and 10-19 (disc 2), and there is something for every Shipp or Perelman aficionado – or anyone with a love of freely improvised music. From the gentleness and conversational tone of track 1, where the music evolves from a to and fro to a gentle, swingy back and forth with fewer spaces between responses, to the classical-meets-improvised styles on track 3, or the intensity and depth of Track 4, the playfulness of track 5 or the divergent parts of Track 9, there is a lot to take in. On Disc 2, the explorative quality of the music is more evident, with Perelman setting up ideas more on this second part of the release. On Tracks 10 to 14, Perelman travels some unconventional roads on tenor sax with Shipp supporting, and then in Track 15 it is Shipp who dictates the atmosphere and thematic tone of the number.

Distillation is a CD set that invites exploration and several listens. You can hear the classical leanings of both musicians, but also the application of known musical concepts to create improvised music that comes not just from an idea in the brain but is coupled with a sound understanding of how tonality and relativity of the notes and parts affect the outcome.

This is improvised music in its truest form, not so much a musical relationship, but an ever-evolving force.

Friday, October 23, 2026

Other Galaxies : an interview with DoYeon Kim

DeYeon Kim. Photo by Hyun Park
By David Cristol

Following in the footsteps of traditionnally-trained, pioneering female Asian artists such as Japan's Michiyo Yagi and Miya Masaoka (specialists of the cumbersome koto) and China's Min Xiao-Fen (pipa, known for her duets with Derek Bailey) playing hard-to-tune instruments in free music contexts, DoYeon Kim has been a consistent presence on the scene in the past few years. A rigorously-educated virtuoso of the gayageum, a silk-string zither and variant of the Chinese guzheng, the Seoul-born musician moved to the USA to study and perform under the guidance of Joe Morris at the New England Conservatory. The acclaimed bassist/guitarist and educator helped open her ears and heart to the great wide world of contemporary composition and improvisation, from Anton Webern to Anthony Braxton, and encouraged her to find her voice. Her appetite for encounters, stunning-sounding instrument, intense vocals and theatrical flair took the scene by storm. She's played and recorded with a wide array of key artists : Cooper-Moore, Peter Evans, Satoshi Takeishi, Cyro Baptista, Brandon Lopez, Lesley Mok, Sonia Belaya, Tomas Fujiwara, Matt Mitchell, Michael Bisio as well as Europeans Elias Stemeseder & Christian Lillinger (on Intakt's "Umbra" and Plaist's "Antumbra"), these searching minds eager to marry their sounds to the distinctive ones of that most singular of apparatuses, performed by such a powerhouse individual. 2026 saw Kim's visibility increase, with performances at major festivals and the release of her debut album as a bandleader, on jazz label Tao Forms. On stage, seated cross-legged in traditional robes, she makes audiences feel like taking part in a ritual. Amidst a hefty touring schedule, the artist tells the Free Jazz Collective about her journey so far. 

Photo by Hillel Kim
Could you start by telling our readers about your instrument and training?

The gayageum has been used in both court music and folk traditions. The 12-string court gayageum and the 12-string sanjo gayageum are different in their construction, playing techniques, and musical traditions, even though both have 12 strings. There are also modernized versions such as the 18-string and 25-string gayageum. I attended the National Korean Music High School, a specialized high school for Korean traditional music, and later majored in Korean traditional music at Seoul National University, so I was trained to play and understand these different forms of the instrument.

Does your playing in free music situations maintain a link to the traditional ways of playing the gayageum? Do you see it as an expansion or a departure from those traditions?

It could be seen as an expansion of tradition, or perhaps even as exploring new territory, but I don’t really think about it that way when I play. What I focus on is what I want to say, what it means to me, and how I can communicate it as clearly and honestly as possible. For me, it’s simply a way of expressing myself through the instrument. Whether that is an expansion of tradition or a departure from it, I’m not sure. Either way to perceive it, from a listener's point of view, is valid.

Are you composing and reading from Western sheet music writing conventions, when playing the gayageum?

Yes. I read Western staff notation, usually using the grand staff. I also compose using Western notation when I write for the gayageum, although I sometimes adapt the notation to capture certain nuances of the instrument and my playing technique. I started out learning the piano and reading from scores, and am still studying scores by XXth century composers, from Bartók to Morton Feldman. 

At Joe's Pub, NY, 8 July 2025. Photo by Melanie Mor

Are your vocals connected to the Korean tradition, or does it come from another influence?

Honestly, I’m not sure. I never had any formal vocal training, so I just sing according to what I hear, feel, and imagine. I don’t consciously think about whether it comes from Korean tradition or free jazz. It’s probably a combination of all the music I’ve heard and experienced, and ultimately I just try to follow my own instincts. While in middle and high school, whenever we finished a midterm or final exam, my friends and I would go to karaoke to release all the stress. I would just scream my heart out - maybe that was part of my vocal training after all.

This year you played at New York's Winter Jazz Fest, Vision Festival, Jazztopad New York edition, Knoxville's Big Ears, and released your first album as a bandleader. How do you handle all the activity?

I feel grateful for all of it. And I don’t think any of this could have happened through my efforts alone. Whit Dickey and Steven Joerg at Tao Forms have believed in my music and supported me a lot, which made it possible for my first album as a bandleader to come into the world. And with Tyshawn Sorey, Mat Maneri and Henry Fraser, who play on the album, my ideas and what I wanted to express came through fully and honestly. My manager Matt Merewitz has also been working hard behind the scenes to promote my music, along with many other people who have helped me along the way. All of the opportunities have come from people who have believed in my music and invited me into their spaces. I’m deeply grateful to everyone who has trusted me enough to invite me to be part of festivals and communities. And thanks to all of this, I’ve been able to meet so many wonderful new people - I’m grateful for these unexpected and precious connections that music continues to bring into my life.

My favorite track on your album is the epic Linear System. You seem connected with nature and the elements, from the album cover to song titles. Where does your inspiration come from?

That means a lot to me. Human beings are part of nature, and that idea is deeply connected to the way I think about the gayageum. If you look inside the sound box of the gayageum, the backboard is traditionally associated with the sky, the human, and the earth. Isn’t that beautiful? The sound feels like it connects the sky to the earth, with the human being the bridge between them. I think of music in a similar way—as something that is part of this larger natural world and connects us to something beyond ourselves. That’s why, as you noticed, the album cover also has this image of the sky, the human, and the earth. The river in the photograph is actually the sound box of the gayageum, and the snow reflects both the sky and the earth. Everything is connected. After the pandemic, I started thinking a lot about making music that wasn’t only about myself, but that could connect me to the world around and other people. As I followed that thought, I began to feel that music and the natural world were somehow one and the same. 

Isn't there a tone discrepancy between the gayageum and Western instruments - and did you call on Mat Maneri because he's an expert of micro-tonalities and would bridge the two worlds?

The first time I heard Mat play, his sound felt incredibly familiar. The way he plays around the pitch, bends notes, and moves between different shades of sound felt natural to my ears. Beyond that, his energy, charisma and expressiveness always move me deeply. So I didn’t really choose him simply because I thought he could bridge the tuning systems of the gayageum and Western instruments. I wasn’t thinking about the relationship between the two tuning systems that much, but about Mat as a person and as a musician. His music is so compelling to me, and I simply wanted to make music with him. I felt the same way about Tyshawn and Henry. I wasn’t choosing them because they could solve a particular musical problem. I was drawn to who they are as musicians and people, and wanted to hear what would happen when we played together. 

Photo by Alex Joseph

Rhythm is often neglected or discarded by free improvisers, but is definitely present in your work. What's your relationship to rhythm and music genres that have a lot of rhythm?

Because I pluck and strike the strings with my right hand, there’s naturally a very percussive quality to the sound of the gayageum. The physical act of playing the instrument itself creates rhythm, so rhythm has always been very deeply connected to the way I play. For me, rhythm actually comes before melody. Rhythm is one of the most fundamental and instinctive forms of human communication. Before we even have words or melodies, there is something very powerful about a pulse, a repetition, a gesture, or a physical movement that allows us to connect with one another. So I see rhythm almost as a natural human language. Rhythm feels fundamental to me, whether I’m improvising freely or working with repetition, grooves, or other rhythmically driven music.

Last summer you played in New York and toured Europe in a trio with Kris Davis and Tom Rainey. How did that go?

Touring with Kris and Tom was an incredible experience. I learned a lot from them, felt very alive on stage and felt a sense of infinite possibility in the music. Kris created a supportive environment that allowed me to focus on the gayageum and explore what I could do with it. As both a bandleader and a mentor, she gave me a lot of generous advice and encouragement. The tour became something I will never forget. European audiences were warm and open, people seemed to genuinely enjoy the music and were very curious about it. The meaningful conversations we had made me feel that we were connecting as human beings, through the music, reminding me why I make music in the first place.

---

"I first heard DoYeon Kim when we played an informal trio session with Tom Rainey at my practice studio. We clicked immediately musically, and I was struck by her energy, joyfulness as a player, and the command and expressive range she has on her instrument. I looked for an opportunity to include her in a project and invited her to guest on my record "Spirit, Fire Fact". At first, I had envisioned her as part of the centerpiece, Splitting Silent Stars, which I hold dear because it was composed in memory of my father, who passed away in 2024. The piece is very much about the knottiness of grief and letting go, and it is speech-like in parts. DoYeon Kim’s playing seemed to have just the right combination of wild abandon, spirituality, and gentleness that I needed. Once we started working on it, I enjoyed it so much that she became part of the rest of the album as well—often doubling the guitar to create a kind of augmented string instrument. I have since played DoYeon’s music as well, which is visceral, guttural, and elegant at the same time. I look forward to more opportunities to work together." (Ingrid Laubrock)

---

DoYeon Kim, Chris Tordini, Anna Webber, Ryan Easter, Ingrid Laubrock, 
Yuma Uesaka, Ches Smith, Mary Halvorson, David Virelles. 
Photo by TF Huff (Intakt Records)

How did you meet with Ingrid Laubrock and first played together?

During the pandemic, I discovered Ingrid’s music through her album Blood Moon (Intakt, 2020) with Kris Davis, and became interested in her playing. After I moved to New York, I started going to her performances, and eventually had an opportunity to play with Tom Rainey, which led to meeting Ingrid.

How did Ingrid adapt to the specifics of the instrument, when composing?

I think she approached the piece in a special way. Rather than focusing primarily on the specific characteristics or limitations of the gayageum, she trusted me as a musician and wrote for me as DoYeon. In a way, because she didn’t try to fit the composition into a specific “gayageum framework”, I had more freedom to express myself and bring my own musical language to the piece. It felt less like adapting the instrument to a composition and more like creating a space where the instrument, the music, and I could meet naturally.

Can you tell us about the upcoming "Spirit, Fire, Fact" album, and how do you feel about playing those compositions live?

I feel honored to be part of that new album by Ingrid, it still feels a little surreal to me. The album carries the care, passion, and love of every musician who was involved in it. Tom Rainey, Brandon Seabrook, and Shawn Lovato are all musicians I admire and love listening to, and it was a great pleasure to make music together. Everyone was deeply committed from their own position, and ideas could emerge freely among us. Ingrid, as a leader, was open and flexible in receiving those ideas, while at the same time being extremely clear about her own foundation and what she wanted the music to be. Watching her lead with such flexibility and clarity taught me a great deal. I also love that the energy of the music changes when we play it live. Something new happens between the musicians and the audience in the moment. I’m thrilled to bring this music to Switzerland [at the unerhört festival in Zürich] and experience what happens with it live. Ingrid’s playing is extraordinary, of course, but I also like that her character and humanity are enclosed in her compositions. I had listened to her music and looked at her scores before, but playing her music and experiencing it from inside the ensemble allowed me to feel those qualities on a deeper and more personal level.

At the same festival you're scheduled to do a workshop.

It will be my first time visiting Zürich and meeting the students at the University of the Arts. I hope I can share something from my own experience with them, and learn new perspectives from them as well. I will also be performing some of the pieces from "Wellspring" with them.

What are your next projects and collaborations?

I’m thinking about four projects right now. The first is an expansion of the DoYeon Kim Quintet. I’ve already written music around the Five Stages of Grief, and I’d like to develop that material into a much larger project, with choir, tuba, trombone, trumpet, violin, cello, bass, percussion, gayageum, and voice. I’d also love to make a video alongside the recording, so that the project can exist not only as an album but also as a visual work.

The second project is quite different. I'm planning on creating music using electronic sounds with gayageum, drums, and voice. I think you’ll hear a completely different energy and another side of my musical world.

The third is a string trio I’ve started with Gabby Fluke-Mogul and Lester Saint-Louis. This group is focused on improvisation.

The fourth is a collaboration with a string quartet called The Rhythm Method. They commissioned me to write a new piece for gayageum and string quartet, which we’ll perform next year. What makes this project exciting is that it won’t just be about playing music — the performance will also include acting, singing, and movement. I’m looking forward to exploring how all of these elements can come together on stage.

What musicians are you listening to at the moment and can you name one you'd like to play with?

I’m currently listening to Thomas Strønen’s music, whom I recently had a chance to play with. I’m also a big fan of Barry Guy, whom I had the chance to play with in Barcelona in 2019, and I remember being completely captivated when he played his solo. He played so beautifully that, for a moment, I almost forgot that I was also performing. Given the opportunity, I would love to play with him again.

---

Latest releases :

DoYeon Kim - Wellspring (Tao Forms, 2026) 

Anna Webber - It's easier to imagine the end of the world... (Intakt, 2026)

Ingrid Laubrock's Grammy Season - Spirit, Fire, Fact (Intakt, 2026) (December)

---

Live :

Mark Dresser Gradience Quartet

Oct 23 : Angel City Jazz Festival, Los Angeles (US) 

Oct 28 : University of California, San Diego (US)

Nick Dunston's Spider Season

Nov 10 : Stony Brook Festival, New York (US)

DoYeon Kim solo

Nov 14 : Rockit Festival, Groningen (NL)

DoYeon Kim & Sun-mi Hong

Nov 16 : Pocket Concerts, Utrecht (NL)

DoYeon Kim Quartet

Nov 21: Jazztopad Festival, Wroclaw (PL)

DoYeon Kim & Workshopband ZHdK

Nov 26 : unerhört! Jazzfestival, Zürich (CH)

Ingrid Laubrock's Grammy Season

Nov 27 : unerhört! Jazzfestival, Zürich (CH)