We thought this may be of interest - Anthony Braxton's Sonic Genome project, which is also the opening of the Jazzfest Berlin, will be live streamed today. The event begins at 7:30 p.m. CET... and right now that means it's 5 hours earlier in NYC (DST ended last weekend in Berlin).
The event is happening at the stately Gropius Bau museum where Braxton will be joined by 60 musicians from Australia, Germany,
UK and US and for six hours, they will transform the museum into a
cosmos of musical experience.
So, come back and check it out when it's happening for you!
The Blog will be providing coverage of the festival, check out the program here.
[Lauren] Elizabeth Baba returns with a new imagining of what
theBABAorchestra can create, and how she as an orchestrator and conductor
can push the group even further tonally, rhythmically, and communally.
Marigold is the latest release from composer, conductor and bandleader
[Lauren] Elizabeth Baba performed by theBABAorchestra, a 17-piece
experimental big band based out of Los Angeles. Marigold follows 2017’s
release Another Ride on the Elephant Slide with an even stronger sense of
group unity, vision and identity.
This is a 4 part continuous, unedited performance finding its origins from
the immigration story of Baba’s family from Greece and Syria. Their
tenacity is brought into the now by exploring one’s journey of
self-discovery, inequality, immigration, and the reality that juggling all
of this can lead to a breakdown. While highlighting that realness, Baba
makes sure we understand that the largest theme which rises above is the
indomitable pursuance of creativity. And there is nothing that is going to
get in the way of the power of this sound on this record.
The album starts off with space and time in the forefront. A repetitive
pitch is played by the piano and gradually spreads itself throughout the
entire orchestra into the opening theme of the first movement. From there,
listeners will go into a gradual escalation into powerful territory full of
heavy groove, free playing and tight lines. Throughout the work, Baba holds
on to themes and distributes them throughout the ensemble in multiple
layers and adaptations. With this fiery melange, freedom with the ensemble
and as individual players remains. Each of the 3 takes (you are hearing
take 3 here) all venture into different areas with movements changing based
off of how the group is making sense of them at that moment. Because of
this, the group has to move together in order to survive. Much credit is
due to Baba’s leadership here, but also the trust and understanding of
everyone in the ensemble to immerse themselves into the music and to create
something together that is bigger than themselves.
Marigold shows that [Lauren] Elizabeth Baba understands the inherent power
and harmonic potential of the big band format. She honors the history of
this medium while also pushing what it can do, reinforcing its relevance as
a vehicle of the avant-garde and creative music.
This is music of a higher purpose. Of 18 artists’ unhinged passion and
energy. Art that captures this dynamic and soul is worth experiencing,
celebrating and leveraging.
The Nikolas Skordas and Alexandros Aivaliotis duet develops his music on a path where west
meets east. Skordas plays soprano sax but also traditional flutes, tarogato
(a woodwind instrument rooted in Hungarian and Rumenian folk music, but
also in free jazz – Peter Brotzmann and Evan Parker occasionally played it)
and percussion. Aivaliotis plays the Shakuhachi (Japanese and Chinese
longitudinal bamboo flute used among other things for the practice of
suizen – or blowing meditation).
The name of the duet is a clear declaration of intents, in Greek ‘on’ is
the sentient being, the same phonetics in Japanese means sound as the
original form of frequency creation through air. The ideogram which stand
for this sound, is composed by two other ideograms meaning ‘stand up’ and
the ‘’sun’ viz the rising of the light.
And music is exactly what you can guess: an exploration of sounds, an
interchange between the two players which produces evocative minimal
soundscapes. The sax and the flutes interact creating a rich interplay
which develops in the twelve pieces with a sense of continuity without
being repetitive. The sound of the shakuhachi in the solo piece “The Joy of
Loneliness” is clearly evocative of an eastern path but the blending with
the sax an original sound which appears well represented in the track “on”
where Skordas and Aivaliotis begin as solos to joins their music in the
third part of the piece.
The last track “Farwell” introduces a new element, the chant of Sophia
Koroxenou and the sound of the voice creates a natural interaction with the
blow of the winds somehow closing the circle.
To listen to the point of view of the artists look at the short film
“Facing Infinity”
On Memphis, Roberts displays a vision of the past, the memories of a young woman whose parents were killed by the KKK, a story handed down to her by her Memphis-born grandmother. Roberts structures this story on the basis of a sequence of weekdays, at first the atmosphere seems idyllic and peaceful - from the child's point of view everything is rather jaunty, symbolised in the repeated phrase “I am a child of the wind / even daddy said so / we used to race and I would always win and he said / run baby run / run like the wind / that's it, the wind / the memory is the most unusual thing / peace be still“. However, in “All Things Beautiful“ this phrase gets a deeper, dramatic meaning, because the playful context is suddenly gone, everything becomes deadly serious: the little girl has to run for her life, because the family is hunted down by a racist mob. The girl manages to escape in the woods but is never to see her parents again.
Apart from the multidisciplinary aesthetics and narrative power Roberts has used on the previous Coin Coin albums, she has also presented different compositional approaches - she calls this “Panorama Sound Quilting“ -, the music arrangements ranged from big band to sextet to solo. Her music has mostly been categorized as free jazz but in reality it’s more like a cacophonous soundtrack consisting of a loud bouquet of horns, ouds, jaw harps, mouth organs, violins, guitars and vibraphones. That’s why Memphis is reminiscent of Gens de Couleurs Libres, like on the first part of the series, Roberts uses blues, Latin American music, and gospel motives, she even quotes jazz classics (here “St. Louis Blues“ in “Fit to be Tied“). In the longest piece (the album consists of 13 tracks but is rather one long suite), “Trail of the Smiling Sphinx“, Roberts layers bluegrass fiddles, freely improvising wind instruments and dark rhythms on top of each other, a fascinating mess of styles that points out that the blacks and whites in the South were clearly separated (“the house of god, they say, was no place for the mixing of races“, the child remembers someone say at the end of the track).
In a nutshell: Coin Coin Chapter Four: Memphis is the next element of Roberts’s contribution to 21st century liberation music, oscillating between meditative evocative explorations, jazz tradition and free improvisations. Without any doubt my album of the year.
Coin Coin Chapter Four: Memphis is available on vinyl (180g LP), CD and as a download. You can buy it from the label.
To understand this album, one must understand its setting. Panthalassa is
the ocean that surrounded the ancient supercontinent Pangea. It was
immense, deep, and, with the onset of the Cambrian explosion for which the
Paleozic Age is best known, rich with life.
Panthalassa
starts as a soundscape shimmering, but desolate soundscape. A panoramic of
haunting Lost-in-Space hums flutters in a desolate wind. An inconsistent
ring seems to keep time as wooden creaks and scrapes drag the first track,
“Paleozoic Dawn,” to its ends. The second track, “Bone White Moon,” then
redeploys the soundscape to a dreamy backdrop over which Fraser lays his
clarion nga taonga puoro – his assortment of Maorian wind instruments. This
track has a pulse to it that the more skeletal, almost lifeless “Paleozoic
Dawn” can only hint at. “Rorqual” returns to the welling atmospherics, but,
again, in a more compelling manner than the first track. It is richer and
glistens with activity and distinctively human sounds. Tracks such as the
growling “Echolocation,” the eerily pacific, guitar-laden “Glacial
Imprints,” spectral vocal-track “Hinatore,” and the funereal “Whale Time”
do so as well, in their own distinctive ways. And this is quite fitting.
The album is a journey from the abandoned and sterile to the increasingly
organic and anachronistically anthropocentric world of wafting melodies and
energy agglomeration and release. The crescendo is unsteady. Instead, the
album rocks between absence and intervention, as if the more conventional,
acoustic instruments (those focused on melody and those most deeply
connected to the history of music) are fighting to break through the
electronic haze. Then, with the “Mesozoic Extinction,” the life of the
album comes to an end in a bittersweet return to the near-barrenness of the
inorganic sonic-world that preexisted it. The extinction is catastrophic,
though the song reflects the graduality of the dying-out, rather than the
sudden rupture of a cataclysm. The soundscape fades and the hollow
pattering from the background, almost rhythmic, carry the track to its
final, silent end.
Reflecting the presumably strange diversity of the Paleozoic stew of life, Panthalassa is an odd concoction that comes into its own when the
abstract synthesized ambience combines with the instrumentation, at times
Maorian horns and other tools, at others bass, guitars, ocean harp, and
vocals. It is these instances that this album rises about the more
conventional morass of sonic landscaping, the pre-organic dawn and the
ultimate extinction, and lets a glimmer of life shine through. This is an
album that captivates in its contemplative subtleties rather than
aggression or sheer novelty. And, indeed, if you have the attention to pay
it and the open ears to hear it, it is well worth the close listen.
Is it possible to create meaningful music with only percussion? The answer is clearly yes. But the challenge to keep non-percussionists motivated to keep listening is high. The absence of any lyrical or harmonic instruments is a barrier to many. But I recommend to listen to some of the following albums, released in the last year: some solo albums and some duo albums, and one that is even not only percussion but one that still might fit in this overview.
In the last few years, we have seen how progressive music opened towards more open sonic environments, offering a new world of sound in which texture and timbre become more important than rhythm and harmonies. This increases the opportunities to explore, because the boundaries are gone, and it allows for musicians to deepen the possibilities and potential of their instruments. I assume that especially for percussionists, this opens new aural vistas, as you hear on the following albums.
Various Artists - Free Percussion (Tsss Tapes, 2019)
Let's start with the most exclusive one: a wonderful compilation of what modern percussionists have to say with their instruments. The artists are - in this sequence: Claire Rousay, Rie Nakajima, Chris Dadge, Håkon Berre, Ted Byrnes, Tim Daisy, Will Guthrie, Simon Camatta, Kevin Corcoran, Skyler Rowe, Francesco Covarino and João Lobo. Each one of them performs on one track, and as the liner notes say, using:"Snares, bells, sticks, cymbals, pinecones, rattles, brushes, bass drums, mallets & other objects that make a sound if you hit them, stroke them, let them bounce". Each artist has his or her own approach, yet all music is thoughtful and carefully paced, creating sonic environments rather than rhythmic explorations in which percussive sounds merge with silence, scrapings, stretched tones, combining minimalism with more expressive moments. A mixed tape for sure, but with unity. Listen and buy from Bandcamp. Tim Daisy - New Works For Solo Percussion (Relay, 2019)
Chicagoan drummer Tim Daisy is of course well known to the readers of this blog. He has performed with musicians such as Ken Vandermark, Steve Swell, Dave Rempis, Jeb Bishop, Mars Williams, Jaimie Branch, and many more across the continents. It's no wonder that he is in such demand. He is a drummer with skills and ideas, which he already sufficiently demonstrated in his many collaborations.
On this album, he takes the time to share his own thoughts on new possibilities. He combines different styles and types of drumming, sometimes rhythmic, playing different instruments at the same time. The long opening track demonstrates it all: marimba, toms, crotales, woodblocks, cymbals and gongs create a sonic universe that oscillates between tension and fun, between intensity and calm, between pyrotechnics and tenderness. I think especially drummers will revel in the new approaches that are presented here, yet there's sufficient variation and innovation to keep non-drummers interested.
Michael Zerang – Assyrian Caesarean (Holidays, 2019)
Michael Zerang is mentioned in no less than 52 articles published on this blog, often in ensembles with Brötzmann, McPhee, Rempis, Swell and other free jazz luminaries. To my knowledge, this is his first solo album.
Zerang switches between percussive moments and sonic explorations by generating lengthened noisy sounds from his instrument, by rubbing the skins of his toms, or the sides of his cymbals with a variety of tools. His "Song for Mourners" is a good example of the latter, and it demonstrates the percussionist's skill to generate expressive sounds with varying pitches out of his drum kit, by itself already an interesting feat, yet it also has artistic value, as it offers a weird and unusual listening experience, one that you can get lost in, as in "Threnody for a Desert Storm", a multilayered piece full of tension and foreboding. On "Capitalism's Last Shred", the noise is utterly irritating, but I guess that's the point considering the track's title.
If you prefer straight drumming, the listener will definitely enjoy compositions such as "Assyrian Caesarean", a rhythmic delight full of shifting patterns played on his toms with just a few hi-hat sounds for contrast. The most complex percussive piece is "The Swift and Sordid Purification of Jimi Jihad", a rumbling improvisation full of variety and dozens of little things happening at the same time.
Zerang, himself of Assyrian descent (Iraq/Iran), creates a haunting, personal story that is both musical and political: thanks to his skills and inventiveness he transcends the natural limitations of his instrument, expanding its range and musical potential while at the same time evocating the pain and destruction in the Middle East.
Peter Orins - Happened By Accident (Circum, 2019)
We've come across Peter Orins as the drummer of French-Japanese Kaze quartet or in some of Satoko Fujii's Orchestras, as well as being a member of th French Circum Grand Orchestra. Classically trained, he takes his music even a step beyond jazz on this solo album. He explores textures and sounds, influenced by minimalism yet at the same time - as on the first piece - creating quite a dense and warm multilayered sound that shifts in intensity. Other tracks are built around silence with the percussion instruments expressing themselves in unheard languages, chirping or twittering, scraping or whistling, or once even a deep bass resonance coming from who knows where (as on the fourth track). The title refers to the unexpected nature of his music, where things happen by chance, by accident even. The result is mesmerising. Listen closely and you will be amazed that all these sounds are the results of percussive instruments, but even that no longer matters. The sound stands on its own, regardless of the instruments used. It's almost become ambient, the sounds of life, nature and civilisation, both equally unpredictable, captured in little sonic capsules with a high level of abstraction that is paradoxically also very physical.
Norwegian percussionist Emil Karlsen is based in Leeds at the moment, and becoming part of the avant-garde music scene. As far as I could find out, this is the third album on which he performs, and the choice to produce a solo CD is quite unusual. The album consists of twelve relative short pieces, on which he demonstrates the versatility and variety of his musical vision. The pieces are called "Waves", "Changes", "Air", "Flow", "Rain", indicating that the music is either evocative or inspired by nature. "Air" for instance, offers a spacious soundscape of individual cymbal sounds that resonate through silence, occassionally alternated with a slight beat on a tom. "Flow" starts quietly, but gradually gathers intensity and density, with many percussive sounds adding power like a mountain river that swells with the falling rain.
His music is crisp and crystal clear.
Eric Thielemans - Bata Baba Loka (Oorwerk, 2018)
Eric Thielemans is a Belgian drummer and percussionist, whose new release "Bata Baba Loka" is already his sixth solo album. His instrument is the drum kit. His approach is exploratory but with a strong emphasis on rhythmic changes and patterns, deeply rooted in jazz and African polyrhythms, but making them branch in various new directions. It's a treat.
Eric Thielemans & Billy Hart - Talking About The Weather (Oorwerk, 2019)
And this one is even a better treat: Eric Thielemans invites his former teacher and master drummer Billy Hart for an unusual album, a collage of real conversations - about the weather to start with - and drumming, and often unusual drumming at that. It's a meeting of approaches, of inventive interaction, with different set-ups of the percussion instruments. Thielemans, no longer the student, and Hart, no longer the teacher, go for it, creative, subtle, determined, powerful, supple, not there to impress, but to enjoy the moment, to enjoy each other's technique and ideas and then to merge and co-create with a like-minded spirit, a rare moment for percussionists. You hear them smile to each other during the performance. You hear the respect and the appreciation and the admiration. Some pieces are minimal, some exuberant, but always rich.
The album comes with a 64-page booklet with all the conversations in full.
Jay Rosen & Brian Willson - The Mystery Brothers (Not Two, 2019)
Jay Rosen (Trio X, Cosmosomatics, ...) and Brian Willson (Ivo Perelman Trio, Pauline Oliveros, ...) have an equally intimate conversation between drum kits on this album. The wonderful recording puts each musician on one audio channel (Willson on the left, Rosen on the right), so you can hear how the interaction develops, often seemingly playing as one in these four lengthy improvisations.
For two artists who know their instruments so well, and who are so competent and skilled, the fact of having this opportunity to speak the same language appears to be infectious. They are not all over the place, quite to the contrary: the music is focused, and even if unplanned, it develops with its own logic and sense of direction, like stories unfolding. The long last track is called "Unity". And that's what you get.
Eventless Plot - Percussion Works (Dinzu Artefacts, 2019)
Eventless Plot is an ensemble a little bit in its own universe. Their approach is minimalistic, with at least one or a few sustained tones that give the music a strong horizontal linearity, acting as a shifting foundation for the percussion to emphasise, contrast and disrupt. The trio, consisting of Vasilis Liolios, Yiannis Tsirikoglou and Aris Giatas, limit themselves to percussion on this album, in contrast to the use of piano and guitar on their earlier work. They are joined by Louis Portal for additional percussion. On the second track, Stefanos Papadimitriou joins with his viola, emphasising the sustained tones of bells. Evelina Krasaki sings - wordless - on the third composition. The main instruments are percussion, crotales, sound plates, singing bowls, cymbals, objects with the support of electromagnetic mics, contact mics, bows, sine tones, electronics Max/MSP.
Despite this line-up, the composed work is slow-paced, light-textured and ethereal. The collective effort of the musicians results in a sonic world of strange intensity. Despite its apparant calm, the music is rich and full of dramatic moments, and often of an eery beauty. Of all the albums reviewed in this list, it's possibly the least 'percussive' in the traditional sense, but at the same time it again reveals that with ingenuity and musical vision more can be done with less.
Last year, Japanese master drummer Tatsuya Nakatani released already his ninth solo percussion album. Nakatani is known to us for his collaborations with amongst others Peter Kowald, Gary Hassay, Asif Tsahar, Michel Doneda.
His approach to his instrument is a very physical one, highly energetic, even when he is using extended techniques as can be seen on the video below. On several of his previous solo albums he collected a number of different pieces, recorded at various intervals, but the approach on this album is different, as it consists of one long track of 45 minutes. And this approach works. Nakatani creates his sound art which requires time to develop, to build a sonic narrative that is full of intensity and an inherent level of violence and power.
Claire Rousay - various solo albums
To finish this list, I would like to refer to two albums already reviewed by Keith Prosk last month, but still worth mentioning in this series.
In conclusion, it's amazing that percussion only albums are proliferating. The musicians listed above have taken this unique form to a higher level, demonstrating that even in a very limited setting, many new sounds can be explored and created. I'm sure there will be something for anyone's taste.
In 1967 Gato Barbieri's album on ESP In Search of the Mystery had a
profound effect on a young fellow South American tenor player - that player
was Ivo Perelman. Now, Perelman himself has recorded with the same label
and includes Bobby Kapp the same drummer who was on Gato's album. Alongside
Bobby Kapp, Perelman has enlisted bass player William Parker and his
long-time collaborator Matthew Shipp on piano. Each of the musicians brings
their own distinctive avant garde style to this recording and although
Parker and Shipp have made multiple albums with Perelman, and each has
played together before, their interplay remains fresh .
Ineffable Joy opens with 'Ecstacy' which announces itself with deep piano
and bass before Perelman's tenor sings across the top line, rich,
multi-registered themes emerging whilst the drums emphasise the varied
licks and quibbles introduced. Parker's bass lines emerge from the depths,
adding layers of resonant support and at times where piano meets bass, the
lines created are liquid, like flowing rivers. The track builds to a
crescendo which then descends to a gentle quietude. 'Ineffable Joy' is a
lovely track with all musicians adding their quirky, definitive
characterisation to the music, a mix of staccato, from piano and bass over
which Perelman's sax sings, sighs and wavers , underpinned by percussion
which is light yet fearsome and emerges into a drum solo which is heavy,
rhythmic and glorious before the sax and sawn bowed bass take over and
bring the track to its harmonic end.
'Jubiliation' sets out in a swinging style, the rhythm set out by the piano
and bass in beautiful counter rhythms with each other creating a joyous
free-bop introduction. There is a lovely descent from the piano chords,
under which the bass and percussion provide solid support before the tenor
of Perelman joins to add to the layers and lifts the octaves, sailing over
the top, part altissimo, part lower registers. Regular interwoven themes
come together and depart in different directions through the track,
creating earworms which prevail. 'Ebullience' defies the title with its
gentle melodic tenor theme over the top of gentle percussion and pervasive
gravitas bass lines at the outset but works towards a regular beat section
with bass and sax working together whilst the piano line offers contrasting
harmonics in the chords.
'Bliss' is a lively affair with the musicians diversifying almost
immediately , each travelling their own distinct path, coming together,
then veering off in energetic pathways, which occasionally cross. Perelman
here is intense and fractious in his delivery, creating a pivot around
which the others work - and work well. The middle section is a contrast
with open , lighter harmonies and a delicate percussion which serves to add
accents and emphasis before the final, piano-driven section which sees bass
and piano working the lower levels together whilst drums continue the pulse
and Perelman drops out before re-entering on even more ferocious terms.
Glorious. Again, there is a contrasting drop to quietude at the end.
'Elation' begins with soft piano over which the percussion skitters and
plays before the tenor introduces a melodic theme and the bass fills the
gaps in the extended chordal lines. The rhythm does not seem to establish
in this track, and it feels a little lost for a while before the piano
asserts a slow but insistent cadence which is carried to the end.
'Rejoicing' contains different patterns from each musician, coming together
to create a patchwork of sound which melds into a comprehensive, yet
characterful interlude, with roughly bowed bass adding yet more texture and
friction to the mix. A set of repeated chords from the piano offers
Perelman an opportunity to counter with a melodic ascent - and he take it
with relish. The drum and bass conversation in the middle section is clever
and luxuriously laden with echoes and crossovers as the deep reverberations
are picked up by the bass, which emerges in its own line, picked up and
extended by Perelman's tenor. 'Exuberance' tops out the CD with all the
musicians coming together in expressive expression of the freedom that this
music allows. Complex melody lines are interwoven and combined with
dazzling dexterity and Perelman's tenor sax shines on this track.
This is a CD which uses the characters and distinctive styles which each
musicians brings to the table, yet also combines them in many places to
create new and different expressions. There is an exploration of ideas and
different patterns throughout. A brave man is Perelman, bringing together
musicians who each have such a distinctive style, this CD is an example of
how it can work, and work well.
Personnel: Ivo Perelman, tenor saxophone;
Matthew Shipp, piano;
William Parker, bass;
Bobby Kapp, drums.
Eleven years ago, Australian artists Simon Barker on drums and Scott Tinkler on trumpet released "Lost Thoughts", an album that I really enjoyed. In the years in between, both musicians kept performing together and releasing albums in various ensembles, frequently also in the company of pianist Mark Hannaford.
It is good to have a duo album again. Both musicians are eclectic players, using elements from jazz, classical, avant-garde, carnatic and other Asian music. They know each other very well, and you can hear that. The interplay is strong, intense and with moments in which each of them takes a step back to let the other musician play a solo piece. And it must be said, the instrumental mastership of both musicians is not only stellar, the way they interact is even stronger.
Barker is a professor at the Sydney Conservartorium of Music, and has written about rhythmic and polyrhythmic traditions of various cultures, which can be heard in his playing, which is unusual and highly inventive. Tinkler's tone has at times a purity of sound as in the best classical trumpet tradition, but with the intensive freedom that is expected from this more adventurous genre. There are moments of such technical complexity, ferocious power and breathing control that the emphatic listener is guaranteed to be out of breath too.
Their combined music is expansive, jubilant, exuberant even at times, despite the limits of the small ensemble. There is an inherent joy in their interplay, a need to sing and dance that is uncanny, with the energy to keep things moving forward. Even in the calmer moments, the power of their attack does not diminish. In contrast to many bands, they have no obvious interest in extended techniques or timbral explorations, yet they dig deep into the original - intended - sound of their instruments and take this a level higher.
Frequent readers will know that I am a fan of the trumpet-percussion duo, and this one is very high on my list. You don't need to be a trumpeter or a drummer to fully appreciate what's happening here. Despite the technical brilliance and subtle interplay, the format is one of pure simplicity, of the ancient coupling of percussion and singing, of fresh authenticity and direct expressiveness.
Made To Break is the most fertile and active outfit from Ken Vandermark in
the last decade, and as we all know, Vandermark leads or co-leads at least
ten more outfits simultaneously. F4 Fake is already the 9th album from Made
to Break, recorded in November 2017 after concluding a short European tour
at the Primitive Studios, Vienna.
The title of the album refers, obviously, to today’s troubled populist
politics, but the three extended compositions relate to Vandermark’s common
interests - art, cinema, fiction, songwriting and how it all
corresponds with his musical ideas and language. Made to Break features
Vandermark on reeds, fellow Chicagoan, drummer Tim Daisy, Austrian Christof
Kurzmann who plays on the ppooll software and electronics, and Dutch Jasper
Stadhouders who mostly focuses on the
electric bass, though can be heard contributing some guitar as well.
F4 Fake begins with “Aäton”, dedicated to the great director-actor-writer
Orson Wells, and titled after the Aäton film cameras, invented by
Jean-Pierre Beauviala, who passed away earlier this year. Its strong funky
vibe is disturbed by the subversive electronic sounds of Kurzmann who
forces Vandermark, Stadhouders and Daisy to alter their rhythmic sense and
eventually open the interplay to totally alien sounds and abstract,
spacious dynamics. But patiently, Vandermark, Stadhouders and Daisy
integrate Kurzmann’s electronics interventions into their funky groove.
This kind of interplay is suddenly interrupted again by the angelic sounds of
Kurzmann who leads the quartet towards a chamber-like coda.
The second piece, “Meccano Number 7”, dedicated to the Argentinian writer
Julio Cortázar and titled after an expression from the counter-novel
“Hopscotch”. The atmosphere is still
rhythmic, but lighter than “Aäton”. Here Kurzmann employs his ppooll
software as another reed instrument with weird, fragmented sounds that
enriches the dialog with Vandermark and pushes him to some wild, ecstatic
outbursts, but also, again, to delicate chamber interplay.
To begin with my conclusion: I think this is a stunning recording, which
merits repeated listening. Actually, it requires repeated
listening to reveal the patterns that unfold and the textures that Susan
Alcorn (pedal steel guitar), Bill Nace (guitar) and Chris Corsano (drums)
develop in an energetic interplay. So far as I know, this is the first time
that these three have performed together, on September 5, 2018, at Rotunda,
Philadelphia. It sounds, though, as if they have frequently played together
and of course, all are familiar to readers of The Free Jazz Collective. I
imagine the Rotunda is a conducive environment for musicians; at least, it
seem to me that the venue has made its own textural contribution.
The first few times I listened to this (the vinyl version), I realised that
I was playing it too quietly. I’m not suggesting that it should be turned
up to 11 (one could try) but it certainly benefits from a good turn of the
dial. It start with what I can best describe as shimmer of sound announcing
the three musicians who immediately establish themselves in unison:
reacting, challenging, cooperating. The opening rolls into a blizzard of
sound that simultaneously evokes a cognitive and a visceral response. The
pattern of music that emerges is like the weather outside just now:
sunshine, giving way to darkening skies and then a heavy downpour. Just
when it seems the rain cannot get any heavier, the music calms to reveal
the distinctive elements that each contribute. There is no recording
information to indicate whether this is the whole concert or if it has been
edited, In any event, side two seamlessly continues the pattern. There is a
relatively lengthy passage of calm with Alcorn shimmering away then turning
to staccato passages, like a beacon through the gathering rain. Corsano
maintains a steady presence with Nace contributing an incessant low
vibration that builds and swirls. And then, the rain arrives, the tempo and
volume increases. No musician gets lost or over dominates, unless it’s in
service of the music. Finally, the music ebbs again into a remarkably
rhythmic finale of stutters, pedal steel melody and percussive wash. Calm
arrives. We are dry and happy.
By
Martin Schray
German drummer Christian Lillinger’s The Meinl Sessions is a
20-minute-EP based on a video shooting at the cymbal manufacturer Meinl in
2019, a company whose products Lillinger really likes. The session was
produced over the course of two days: on the first day with a band and on
the second in a solo setting. As a result, The Meinl Sessions is
like a condensation of Lillinger's musical philosophy. The album consists
of brief characteristic fragments, which display the way in which he uses
structures, phrasing and articulation. The tracks are like small parts of a
collage, in which ideas are only hinted at but if you consider the EP as
one composition they make up a wonderful piece of art. Especially the seven "Settings", the solo tracks, are like samples which represent Lillinger’s
compact language: beats, cymbal overtones, varied material applied to the
instrument, complex and polyphone rhythms. He calls it "improvised beats
containing several layers and countless ghost notes creating a sound behind
the sound."
As interesting as the solo tracks are (which stand nicely alongside other recent solo drum albums, e.g. from Rudi Fischerlehner
,
Eli Keszler
and
Paal Nilssen-Love
), the tracks with the band are more exciting. “COR“ is a piece Lillinger
also recorded with GRUND. But while GRUND is a band with seven musicians,
the line-up here is reduced to drums, bass (Petter Eldh and Robert
Landfermann) and synthesizer (Elias Stemeseder), which extrudes tighter, drum’n’bass-like characteristics from the composition and turns it into
something which could be called weird fusion. “A.S.G.“ goes back to “Als
Sozialist Geboren” from the first Amok Amor album (another Lillinger band)
and again the track is full of changes and expansions, however - compared
to the version of Amok Amor - it sounds like played behind a wall of fog.
The saxophone (Otis Sandsjö) is more blurred, the basses are darker and
more present. “Kali Koma“ is originally from Petter Eldh’s album Koma Saxo, but here it is less funky and more abstract leaving
Otis Sandsjö more space for improvisation. The key track is “Plastic“,
which is based on a highly complex melodic and rhythmic structure of
several comprised bars. The track culminates in collective
solos, through which the form gets stretched and expanded. Plasticity (or
plastic) is one of Lillinger’s favourite terms representing his quest for
the perfect sound.
The Meinl Sessions
is a perfect introduction for beginners who want to explore Christian
Lillinger’s music. It’s presents an excellent overview of his oeuvre so far
because it highlights the most important ideas of his musical universe. And
once you’re hooked, I promise you want to get deeper into this cosmos.
The Meinl Sessions
is available as a CD and as an LP. The vinyl has been cut at half speed to
prevent loss of treble frequencies.
“Chiasm,” from the Greek letter chi, our X, literally a
“cross,” has numerous applications: it can refer to literary patterns built
up of two different grammatical structures, e.g., ABBA, a device employed
in Hebrew poetry and present in the Bible; also the place in the brain
where the optic nerves cross; further, a crossing of tendons. Chiasm may
have numerous significances here. It’s the intersection of two musical
units: saxophonist Evan Parker and the younger Danish trio, Kinetics,
consisting of pianist Jacob Anderskov, bassist Adam Pultz Melbye, and
drummer Anders Vestergaard. The CD consists of four tracks drawn from two
performances presented in that ABBA pattern: London, Part 1; Copenhagen,
Part 1; Copenhagen Part II; London, Part II.
One might go further, into the multiply chiasmic structures of Parker’s
music and the ways in which they arise here. Parker’s art and innovations
have proceeded on two axes, one roughly horizontal, one (yes, roughly)
vertical. The horizontal is linear, developmental, melodic and is typified
to some degree by the tenor saxophone and his work in groups like
Schlippenbach Trio; the vertical is simultaneous, multiphonic and
characterized by his solo soprano performances and work with his
Electro-Acoustic Ensemble and various electronic musicians (the recent Crepuscule in Nickelsdorf by Parker and Matthew Wright’s Trance
Map + [Intakt] is a fine example).
The two patterns are always active to some degree (we act in time, time our
opportunity and cross) but they emerge here in sometimes fascinating
juxtapositions. “London Part I”, at over 18-minutes almost half of the
38-minute CD, begins with a few near-electronic sounding arco bass
tones, then some looming bass notes in the piano’s lowest register, then
the quartet is off, in classic free jazz mode, with Parker’s characteristic
compound sound, somehow melding the woolly gruffness of Coleman Hawkins and
the metallic glow of John Coltrane, his line a brilliant, expressive,
pushing-ahead of unchained-if-not-unhinged melody, his partners assembling
their own momentum, the current liberated point of the
tenor-with-piano-bass-drums in a continuum that might be traced from
Hawkins and Lester Young through Dexter Gordon, its most abstract (Warne
Marsh) and visceral (Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis) forms, to Rollins and Coltrane
(say with Monk) and then say Joe Henderson and Sam Rivers (the last two
ideally with Andrew Hill at the piano). In the sonata curve that is,
however, common to so much free jazz form, the ballad comes as an insert in
the middle of a piece, and, chiasm within chiasm, Parker shifts from the
dominant horizontal axis to his vertical, the ironic “timelessness” of
circular breathing and fluting cyclical harmonies, before the trio takes it
out with some finely turgid rhythmic emphasis in which bass and piano seem
to drag themselves insistently forward while everything they do seems also
to be dragging them back.
It’s at this point that the second form of the chiasm begins to appear with
“Copenhagen Part I,” tenor and piano rustling in the firmament, the lines
moving steadily upward with the increasingly active tenor and piano with
active bass and energizing, insistent drums joining in until they find
repose on a sustained note. “Copenhagen Part II” centres the tenor’s
circularity, the circular breathing and the cycling patterns of the
increasingly interlocking line, beneath them a rising cloud of dense bass
register piano that will rise with the pattern. In the concluding “London
Part II,” the music begins with a strong solo tenor moment; once joined by
the band, Parker alternates the two dominant patterns, the reaching line
and the circular pattern, each growing increasing in power and intensity
until it concludes, things withdrawing into luminous piano tones and
sparkling metallic percussion.
These movements, among two essential approaches, suffer in any verbal
description, a reductive blow-by-blow making all punches equal, some just
exaggerated; in practice, the segments vary in any number of ways,
particularly in dynamics and kinds of interaction. Kinetics is highly
responsive, often inspiring, creating a distinct group music with Parker in
the process, while the editing and sequencing create another structural
order, the chiasm creating a further dialogue among parts and processes.
Regardless you like or not, reviewing a solo recording can be troubling
even problematic some times. Any solo recording can be revealing very
personal thoughts and ideas. Those that lie on the thin line that expresses
the inexpressible. There are times that I feel I am the recipient of
messages that oblige me to listen carefully and respond accordingly.
Putting out anything of your own (and only that) self expression is, even
in today’s social media driven society of spectacle, a strong message by
itself. You have to, you really want to say something. And the only
suitable way to do that is by leaving no other to mediate your message that
yourself.
Catherine Sikora, with Warrior, has something to say to us. I haven’t met
Catherine in person or had the luck to catch her live. I live in Greece you
see. We only have exchanged some emails. Warrior seems like a part of her,
as it resembles some of the thoughts Catherine shared with me on those
emails about her music. Warrior is about women, dedicated to the struggles
of all of them in our so called modernized societies. I would dare say,
once more I guess, also for the lack of them in the world of improvised
music.
But do not expect Warrior to be a protest album per se. It is mostly
associated with feelings coming from deep inside. Or, possibly, on the
disgust for the normalization of inequality in the 21st century. Sometimes Warrior delves deep into the free jazz tradition to form, on some
of the tracks a cry, as angry as possible. In other parts of this almost 40
minutes recording, the love Sikora has for melody and the blues formulates
a Braxtonian bridge between instant improvisation and written material.
The symbolism of the title alone-women as warriors-is polarizing our
societies today because, as always, those who are most privileged (straight
white males indeed) feel most threatened by it. I wouldn’t mind if Sikora
used her sax the way A. Shepp did back in the day. As a weapon for the cry
of his people to be heard. Sikora’s breathing, the melodic lines she uses,
even the times she instantly changes a direction, follow a more symbolic,
more internal path. Instead of the, always necessary if you ask me, raised
fist, there’s a gesture of a hand that touches and holds another hand. An
act of unity, power and togetherness. I find Sikora’s music, and Warrior of
course, through this gesture.
What is the link between jazz and cats? Is it the animal's free spirit, its independence and unpredictability? Is it to do with its sense of precision and purpose? In any case, the cat staring from the cover of this album looks exactly like my cat when I was a kid.
Luckily that has no influence on my appreciation of this music, a duet between pianist Magda Mayas and drummer Tony Buck, both based in Berlin and performing as a duo since 2003. This is their third recording - next to a trio with Damon Smith on bass - and it contains two 20' minute tracks, designed for a vinyl production, called "Magnetic Island" and "Sway".
The two musicians create sound environments with pre-recorded elements from live performances with multi-speaker and multi-layered audio, on which they act and react. The music expands slowly and with precision. Despite the various layers, the texture is light and fragile. Every sound counts and has a value of its own in a larger space that still resonates with the traces of previous sounds. The calmness betrays an inherent intensity of contrast and anticipation. The variety of techniques they use to approach their instruments may be resulting in noise according to some, but in fact it's the exact opposite. It is sensual, elegant and refined. Once you immerse yourself in this beautiful and carefully crafted sonic universe, everything else will sound like vulgar noise afterwards.
We can only hope that the duo will release with a higher frequency in the future.
... and yes, they are free-spirited, independent minds with a high dose of unpredictability, as well as a sense of precision and purpose. Like cats. But you already expected this, of course.
Stephan Crump will always be associated in my mind with guitarists. The
first time I saw him play was with his Secret Keeper duet with Mary
Halvorsen. Admittedly I was there primarily to see how she got those
squiggly bendy notes that are part and parcel of her precociously trademark
sound (as a non guitarist I still didn't have a clue how she did it but she
made it look real easy) but while I was doing that was also thinking "that
bass player guy is pretty good". So good that I subsequently went to see
his Rhombal quartet and trio with Ingrid Laubrock and Cory Smythe; in all
settings he added his unique musical personality while seamlessly fitting
into the group sound to the point that seeing his name on a recording puts
it at the top of the must listen to pile.
So if one guitar is good then two must be better, right? Because that's
what you get with the Rosetta Trio featuring Liberty Ellman on acoustic
guitar and Jamie Fox's electric, a group existing since 2004 which Crump
formed as a one off to record material he felt strongly personally about
for the Rosetta release under his name. But then the group assumed
a life of its own and the guitarists began contributing works of their own
and after Reclamation and Thwirl we have the current release.
If you're already enamored with the group there's plenty more to feast upon
here. For those of you with an aversion to a drummerless trio of un
firebreathing instruments, you might want to reconsider. The title piece,
the core of which came to Crump in the back of a tour van in Europe,
establishes the groove early after which the participants break away into
slightly asymmetrical orbits which never escape the central gravity before
finally getting back in sync. Synapse provides a scaled down arena
rock feel of two guitars swirling around a propulsive bass figure, minus
the drums and cacophonous volume.
When Stephan released Rhombal with a different quartet dedicated to his far too prematurely deceased
brother, Patrick, it was accurately reviewed here as a joyous celebration
of his life. Two songs were held back from that session specifically for
this group. Dec 5 was Patrick's first birthday after his passing
and the piece poignantly expresses the sense of yearning for what was lost,
particularly in Fox's crystalline melodic notes. Middle March, the
last time the brothers were together, is an uplifting tribute to his still
vibrant spirit.
Liberty Ellman created Cryoseism, an intricate trading off of
sprightly motifs by all three players, initially for Thwirl but
the musicians weren't happy with how the piece had developed. Subsequent
rehearsals and tours prodded and pushed it to a level they were satisfied
with and here it is. That's how the entire disc is: well developed
interplay between three simpatico players. Listening to it repeatedly as
the weather was changing into cool autumn seemed very fitting.
First, a brief history. Henry Kaiser and Wadada Leo Smith have collaborated
before, most notably on their Yo Miles! Project, as well as in various
other settings. In fact, Smith had actually written “Wind Crystals” for
Kaiser’s first recording for Eugene Chadbourne’s label…and the seeds of
this recording were planted. Forty years later, Chadbourne and Kaiser
decided to pay homage to Smith by recording several of his compositions for
dual guitar/strings and rerecording the piece that started it all (with
“it” meaning this four-decade triangle of on-off [and recently mostly off,
it seems] collaboration).
Wind Crystals
begins and ends with contending versions of the title track. The first is
the 1977 version. The last, the 2017 one. The first is sparer and captures
the spirit of windchimes. The second is one of the most active pieces on
this album, and possibly one of the best. All sounds are acoustic, but
there are times in the latter piece that I hear howls and hums amidst the
frolicking dialogues. What a fine and different interpretation.
Other tracks are similarly off-kilter but focused. Pieces such as
“Shabazz,” “Blue Lightning Blue,” and “Blue Case” run replete with bluesy
undertones. Even more, however, they disassemble the tradition, using its
pieces as a sort of spolia with which to build a new, warped edifice or
sonic fragments with which to construct an aural collage. (Yes, Derek
Bailey seems a major influence, though the tracks here have somewhat more
melody and rhythm than Bailey ever let slip.) Other tracks, such as
“Pacifica” have a twangy vibe and are in striking contrast to, but also in
awkward continuity with, the version on Spiritual Dimensions. At
points, they even capture the trills, runs, and even the cavernous
qualities of Smith’s horn, albeit in a more sinuous, skrony, broken
bluegrass sort of way.
In short, these are inventive and absolutely compelling interpretations of
these compositions. If you are a fan of Wadada, I would recommend checking
this out if for no other reason than to experience some of the alternate
potentialities of his music. If you are a fan of Dr. Chad and the Kaiser,
you already know what you are in for: craggy guitar music played to explore
strings, vibrations, resonances, and spaces, rather than muffle them into
something mellifluous and smooth. Even considering the catalogues of all
three musicians/composers party to this project, Wind Crystals, in
its dedication to the acoustic avant-garde, is really out there and a real
triumph of invention, resourcefulness, and composition. One of the best
albums I have heard all year.
Six Moving Guitars
is the musically and conceptually ambitious debut record from
composer/guitarist Fredrik Rasten. The recording was made by Rasten and
five collaborators -- both musicians and dancers -- at a church in Norway
in 2018. The performance is an interactive sonic exploration of the space
in which it was recorded, each performer wielding an acoustic guitar tuned
in just intonation, a manner of tuning wholly different than how
instruments are typically tuned. A choreography is played out with the
guitars, which was developed as a way to link the unique sound of the
guitars in just intonation and the space they were being played in. Rasten
developed material and various playing techniques that are played out by
both musicians and non-musicians. This is intentional, as Rasten refers to
the music as "
a study in how people, without necessarily being trained musicians, can
act together in a musical situation based on awareness of listening and
spatial orientation."
Musically the record is filled with seemingly simple plucked and
strummed guitar patterns. The six voices bounce small ideas off one
another, thoroughly in conversation, and ultimately create a complex
fabric of sound. It is slow moving, steady and consistent, breathing
gradually and moving between sections. Before you know it the music has
reached a new section, bled into from what came before it. This is
music that very successfully invokes elements of Minimalism, and nearly
New Age.
Rasten has created a hypnotizing, beguiling listen, both in part to the
aforementioned way the music unfolds, as well as the textures coming
from the non-traditionally tuned guitars. Overtones abound -- they
wobble and throb, and often it is hard to place from where a sound
came. There is a spareness to the recording but the sound is
nonetheless full, aided in part by the waving. encompassing chordal
textures.
Though separated into five tracks, Six Moving Guitars is
really one long piece. Consistent throughout is the footsteps and
incidental noise generated from the movement of the performers. This
becomes an essential part of the recording, an element not unlike the
clinking of glasses of music recorded at a club. It acts as well as a
near percussive drone, shuffling under the guitars like a quiet cymbal.
The pulse really only changes during the fourth piece "Running," during
which the choreography seems to be the namesake for the piece, as
rhythmic running steps beat quickly in time, achieving a tone different
than what came before. A phasing effect is even subtly achieved, as the
steps come closer and drift further from the mic. The effect is
mesmerizing.
When listening to Rasten's record one may recall the music of the late
guitarist Rod Poole (as well as Poole's Acoustic Guitar Trio with Nels
Cline and Jim McAuley), a master practitioner of the guitar tuned in
just intonation. Though of a different overall aesthetic and intention,
there is indeed a comparison. Both make shimmering, ringing acoustic
guitar music, that achieves a feeling of boundlessness among many sonic
worlds. Rasten has released a beautiful debut record, and I'm excited
to see what comes next for him.
Louis Moholo-Moholo does not need an introduction here and still – here it
is. Originally, from Cape Town he left South Africa with the racially mixed
Blue Notes and finally settled in London. There he continued to play with
the various bands around Chris McGregor, especially the Blue Notes and the
Brotherhood of Breath. First prominence as leader was achieved with
“Spirits Rejoice”, just rereleased as LP on
Otoroku
– a freejazz classic featuring the cream of British residing musicianship
as Evan Parker, Kenny Wheeler, Keith Tippett, Johnny Dyani, Harry Miller
and Nick Evans. He continues the tradition of the Blue Notes’ style of
African melodies with free-jazz outburst until today, now with the extended
name of Moholo-Moholo, which he took up after resettling back to South
Africa in 2005.
This constant tension filled with joy is probably the most special feature
of this music. I month ago I had the chance to catch the “Five Blokes” live
(with Tobias Delius instead of Shabaka Hutchings) in Holland during the
yearly Jazzcycle festival around Groningen (
Zomerjazzfietstour 2019
– a trip highly recommended for readers of this blog). The saxophones shout
the joyful melodies, piano and bass provide a solid bass and change the
roles with the saxophones while the leader on the drums succeeds in
providing both stomps parallel to complex patterns reflecting joys of
African pop songs and the history of free drumming. It is the latest
release of Ogun records, the label that opened the ears of the world to
this free-form African music since the 1970s. Highly recommended, available
as CD and
download
.
You can wonder about the value of a review for an album that all fans are already aware of and cannot but appreciate. Since the band's first album in 2008, Angles have kept the same unique high level of performance, adding members from a sextet to a nonet over the years, with a trio in between.
The current nonet are Martin Küchen on alto and tenor saxophones, Eirik Hegdal on baritone saxophone, Goran Kajfes on cornet, Magnus Broo on trumpet, Mats Äleklint on trombone, Mattias Ståhl on vibraphone, Alexander Zethson on piano, Johan Berthling on double bass and Andreas Werliin on drums.
At the first tones of the album, you already feel that this is good. The theme is as infectious as before, the band moves as one, the vibes offer a refreshing contrast to the powerful horns, the rhythm section including the piano drive the action forward relentlessly. As said before, this is not music to be heard through headphones, but to be enjoyed in a live setting, where you are as the audience close to the action, if not part of the action. This is marching band music, this is street music, designed to be close to everyday sentiments of joy and sadness, and a little indignation to for the way things unfortunately are. This is communal music, to be enjoyed collectively. It is also political music, designed to rally the forces of the people to overthrow the unjust rulers of our society.
But since headphones are the next best thing, you are sucked up in the action, and you feel part of something grander and more significant.
Despite the fact that this is the band's seventh album (taking all configurations into account), the musical vision that Martin Küchen developed from the start is still entirely intact. And yes, it would be easy to identify this ensemble's sound in a blind test, even if it would be hard to say from which album, because they have stayed so close to their core concept.
"U(n)happiez Marriages" starts with beautiful piano, in a slow very boppish mode and respective harmonic structure, leading to yet again a wonderful theme, sad and moaning, recognisable and yet so inventive, as the backbone for heartrending solo work by the trombone and the trumpet. But the even more wonderful is the freedom of all musicians to colour outside the lines, even when participating in the theme, leading to a weird sense of controlled freedom, which sets this wide apart from any form of traditional jazz, as if the imperfections and the deviations make it more real and authentic.
"Samar & The Egyptian Winter" is dedicated to the Syrian author and journalist Samar Yazbek, and by extension refers to the refers to the Arab Spring that has been quenched by the Sissi government in Egypt and by Assad in Syria. It starts with a sad solo sax intro, leading into a dramatic theme, accentuated by the vibes. Drums and bass lay the perfect ground work for the theme played by trumpet, cornet and baritone, tearful and sad, then for the cornet to improvise over calm piano chords, arco bass and it becomes even sadder, and the when the entire band starts again with the theme, the emotions the music evokes and the empathy you can feel with the Egyptian people are brought to their zenith.
"Against the Permanent Revolution" starts with a piano and baritone sax intro, sonically reminiscent of the Ethiopian music of Mulate Astatke, for an incredibly exuberant and jubilant piece of marching revolutionaries. The title refers to a term - permantent revolution - used by Marx and later by Trotsky to describe how the proletariat should take over power without any compromise for opposing views. What the title actually means, we should ask Küchen himself.
The album ends with "Mali", a high energy, uptempo piece, driven by Werliin's kinetic drumming, and leading into a wild theme, that could be the soundtrack for a 70s action movie (but then of the better kind). It is a maddening romp with unexpected changes and stops, including a two-sax vamp that brings the audience to shouts, after which the other musicians join in utter chaos and according to unknown principles and directions ... the audience cheers when piano and trumpet take over and again the other instruments join, first chaotically, then the whole massive sound coalesces again into the main dubbel-layered theme, ending with a massive stop to the enthusiastic cheers of the audience.
The performance was recorded live August 25th, 2018 at the Zomer Jazz Fiets Tour, The Netherlands.
Fun and sadness guaranteed, together with a good level of admiration for the compositional power and musicianship.
