Monheim Triennale II: The Prequel - July 2024 ~ The Free Jazz Collective

Facing the large screen behind the stage, where typically the festival logo was projected, their backs to the audience, Shahzad Ismaily, on piano, and singer Ganavya Doraiswamy, were providing music and live commentary to the European Football Championship playoff game between Germany and Spain. It was do-or-die for the teams (Just in case: this is happening in Germany) and excitement for the game was palpable.

Shazad Ismaily and Ganavya Doraiswamy. ©Niclas Weber

"Oh, is red Germany," asked Ismaily (who at the moment had adopted the stage-name Willy) with an apparent innocence.

"Shh, shut up," shushed Doraiswamy (who was going for the moment by the name Nelsson), "you're going to get us killed!"

"Hmm. This isn't looking so good," observed Willy, "play sadder."

Willy then decided to pivot to a more populist approach and exclaimed "Fuck you Spain!" Then, sensing that perhaps there was another way, offered: "Why can't the people in red just help the people in white? You want the ball, here you can have the ball."

Nelsson, unconvinced, offered the German team a different solution, singing what she said was an Indian war prayer over Willy's now droning flute.

The moment was somewhat special. A certain bonding between the two friends on stage, who were improvising with cultural differences and musical ideas, and with an audience ready for new musical experiences as well as on tenterhooks about the game.

Amazingly, the war prayer seemed to work as Germany tied the game in the final seconds, sending the teams into overtime.

Anushka Chkheidza and Ronjin Sharafi.©Niclas Weber

The following sets were much heavier with electronics and no soccer talk what-so-ever. Anushka Chkheidza and Ronjin Sharafi are both sound artists whose main medium is electronics. Chkheidza seemed to work with textures and underlying tones while Sharafi wove danceable melodies into her soundscapes. For their duo improvisation, crinkly sounding electronics, small explosions and pulsating chords rolled along with modulating waves giving the sound roots. Irregular beats and laser wielding robots segued into an upbeat melody as the two were obviously enjoying the moment - so too was the audience, with many heads bopping along. Following them, a quartet comprised of guitarist and sound-explorer Oren Armbarchi, singer Julia Ulehla, drummer/electronics player Ludwig Wandinger and trombonist/vibraphonist Selendis Sebastian Alexander Johnson took the stage with a spooky, slowly developing welling of sound. Johnson punctured the mood with a blast from the trombone, and as the swell peaked, Wandinger began pushing the rhythm and Armbarchi made the sonic bed with organ-like tones from his guitar. The crashing of the wave sent Johnson leaping to the vibraphone and Ulehla's rhythmic chatter and short syllabic sounds morphed into a whispered monologue about what seemed to be a flood.

As the 7 p.m. concert came to a close, Spain, in the extended overtime, made their fateful play. From a monitor set up in the bridge of the river cruise ship, many watched in seeming slow motion as they set up the play and with a sudden kick into the goal, ended Germany's chance at the championship.

Oh, right, did I mention that this was all happening on a boat?

Yes There No Where by Robert Wilson

The Monheim Triennale festival is, in a sense, a Gesamkunstwerk(a total work of art) for the small city located in western Germany on the Rhein river. Situated between Köln and Dusseldorf, Monheim spent many years as a sleepy bed-room community, however, how many sleepy towns can now boast a public sculpture conceived of by American playwright Robert Wilson that incorporates a giant goose trapped in a tiny house with sound wells nearby containing readings by Monheim born author Ulla Hahn, or a Marcus Luppertz sculpture along the river front dedicated to the goose theme (which is local mythology woven into the city's culture)? The circa 45,000 resident city began reinventing itself over a decade ago through the initiative of the then 27-year old mayor Daniel Zimmerman, who, armed with a combination of low taxes for businesses and desire to reinvest back into the community, kicked off a civic transformation. For example, almost empty shopping centers in the downtown were purchased by the city for redevelopment; a focus on the arts has led to free music lessons and instruments for the students, orchestras in each school; and quality of life perks for the residents like free public transportation and city bicycles. From the looks of it, Monheim's revitalization seems to be quite a success story, and it is now even supporting a world-class international music festival.

Leda by Markus Lüpertz

To this point, in 2016, after his work with the somewhat nearby Moers Jazz Festival, director Reiner Michalke was asked by Zimmerman to help develop a new festival for the city. Feeling that perhaps another Jazz festival was not the right direction, Michalke noted "we recognized the need for a contemporary music festival of the 21st century, one that would showcase all current trends on an equitable platform within a unified context. We also concurred that the objective wasn’t to attract big names to Monheim, but rather to showcase exceptional artistry."

What has now solidified as the festival's three year cycle began in 2020, pushing through the turbulence of the pandemic, and was brought full circle in 2022. The stages are: first a city focused The Sound, which combines public art and installations; followed by The Prequel, a workshop oriented event dedicated to bringing in musicians from outside the city and encouraging all sorts of collaborations -- not only with each other but with musicians from the schools and community; and ending with The Festival, where the invited artists showcase their signature and commissioned projects.

Now, in the second year of the second cycle, The Prequel's workshop aesthetic extended from the stages to the program, which itself was changing every day. Collaborations were developed between the musicians and the multiple curators, which included Yuko Asanuma, Jessica Hallock, Louis Rastig, Rainbow Robert and Thomas Venker. These collaborations were then presented in short 20-minute sets, while solo sets were performed in an intimate 15th-century church located directly across from the boat dock.

For the majority of the festival's performances, the RheinFantasie river cruise ship, built to host about 1000 people, was moored along the city's riverfront. Here, in the different rooms of the ship were the artist talks and performances. On the top deck, one could mingle and buy drinks between the shows and have their hat blown off by the winds that came and went with some frequency.

Peter Evans Workshop Ensemble ©Niclas Weber

Thursday's concerts began with trumpeter Peter Evans leading a workshop ensemble. Working with a set of local musicians organized by bassist Achim Tang, they performed a piece that Evans had created for the event. Beginning with an insistent electric bass and drums, Evans played a scintillating solo and then opened the space up for the other musicians. The piece ran for about 45 minutes and traversed through a number of styles, from quietly searching to confidently rocking with a violinist even adding a hint of Mahavishnu Orchestra.

Darius Jones ©Niclas Weber

This was followed by a solo set from saxophonist Darius Jones at the intimate Marienkapelle, whose acoustics were miraculously suited to all the musicians who played solo sets there throughout the week. Dry, but not dead, reverberant, but not booming, the arched space seemed to split kaleidoscopically as Jones played with repetitive and slowly morphing phrases and tones. After 30 minutes or so, Jones asked the wholly willing audience, "do you mind if I play just one more?" He then let loose with a skronking and crying meditation of extended technique.

Round Robin set, yuniya edi kwon and Darius Jones ©Niclas Weber

Later in the evening, and back on the boat, a 'round-robin' duo set provided introductions to most of the musicians. Each of the 14 participating musicians emerged individually from the side of the stage and picked-up wherever the current set of improvisers were, as the one who had been playing the longest slowly left the stage. The set began with Evans playing solo, then joined by pianist and composer Heiner Goebbels, who entered by pulling a thread through the strings of the piano while hitting chords on the left side of the keyboard. It created a dazzling mix of delicate tones and sustained bombast. As Evans left, Armbarchi segued in, followed by bag-piper Bríghde Chaimbeul. The three played for a charming moment before Goebbels exited, and so on. The format exemplified the promise of three-minute sets in free-improvisation: with no time to waste getting to know each other, there was a beauty in the severe brevity.

The Voices: Shazad Ismaily, Julia Ulehla,
Ganavya Doraiswamy, Darius Jones ©Niclas Weber

The last set of programmed concerts for the evening began at 9 p.m.. Here, the curated groups met and played for the first time. Peter Evans returned with electronic artists Sharafi and Muqata'a and drummer/electronics player Ludwig Wandinger for a beeping, whirring and buzzing set. Wandinger incorporated his drums into the electric atmosphere while Evans nimbly crafted the inorganic sounds into melodies and textural lines. Next, Goebbels and Chaimbeul tried several ideas, at one point clashing classical melodies and droning bag pipe tones before settling into a grabbing mix of inside-the-piano playing harmonizing with the reedy cyclical sound of the small bag pipes. The last group of the evening was called "The Voices" and brought vocalists Julia Ulehla and Ganavya Doraiswamy together with Jones on saxophone and Ismaily on piano. The mellifluous voices melded gently, as Jones added accents and Ismaily minimalist accompaniment. The music wandered a bit at first but then the energy focused and led to a climatic end.

Musikmachine at Sojus 7

The evening ended in a pop-up music-maker space in the newly renovated community center Sojus 7, just a few meters away on the main road running along the waterfront. Many electronic music tools and toys were arrayed in a room with live projections on the walls. There were a lot of dials and wires and the people were doing their best to create.

Armbarchi & Selendis S. A. Johnson
©Vanessa Stratmann

One thing that is easy to say is that the Monheim Triennale is full of discovery. An air of unexpectedness permeated the evolving program as well as each individual set. Artist talks, moderated by journalist Thomas Venker, introduced artists both well-known and soon-to-be known. Fun facts abounded, from Ludwig Wandinger sharing that he was inspired to become a musician from the Jack Black movie School of Rock to Johnson revealing that she has been playing the trombone for a mere two years. There were deeper ruminations as well, for example from Jones on the perception of race and audience expectations and the thoughts on sound and identity from Ulehla.

It should also be stressed that the musicians were not presenting their own projects, developed meticulously over time, but rather interacting with each other essentially for the first time. For the audience, these interactions could make one rethink the instruments, the musicians, and even how music is made. Perhaps something you would not have considerd 'your thing' could get recast in a new perspective. This seemed to extend to the musicians themselves.

Heiner Goebbels, who had requested to work exclusively in duo settings, seemed to be able to bring out something special in each situation. During Friday's sets, he and electronics player Muqata'a engaged in an absorbing duet that saw the pianist equally working on the keyboard as well as directly with the strings. Deliberately played melodic phrases and stabs of chords combined, clashed and cohered with the pulsating electronic and sampled chants, and the acoustic and electric vibrations exuded a nuanced sound, replete with small dissonances and welcome resolutions. Another connection that stood out was the set with Goebbels and Doraiswamy - and a surreptitious Ismaily, camouflaged in a dark hoodie in the recesses of the stage, adding light electronic textures. For most of her appearances, Doraiswamy's singing flowed effortlessly in a sinuous stream, however for the first time during the Prequel, something about the interaction with Goebbels seemed to lead the lyrical singer into a more syncopated, even a little rougher, direction. A fascinating contrast.

The solo shows at the Marienkapelle, however, were a different thing altogether. In these showcases, the musicians were presenting their meticulously crafted art in its most fundamental. Jones, whose set was described earlier, created music that seemed to alter the shape of the space, while Chaimbeul's bag-pipes turned the air to crystal. Her interpretation of a Philip Glass piece had a hypnotic effect with its relentless drone and the traditional folks songs helped break the spell. Peter Evans, who often plays solo, lifted everyone in the church just a little closer to their god during his set. Most likely there simply had to be another trumpeter hidden behind the altar helping with the thrilling counter melodies and breathless runs. Finally, yuniya edi kwon filled the small chapel with an effusiveness that was hard to describe. She appeared from behind the altar, playing a lithe melody on violin, smiling beatifically. Then, the combination of her whistling, singing in multiple languages and reciting poetry in which she spoke - most likely - of her own journey of acceptance was touching and the dramatic flair of the 'conversation' between the feminine and masculine sides of her person was gripping.

The next instance of the Triennale is the Festival, in which the artists are invited back with their own choices of projects. These may be groups that they work with outside of the Monheim groupings, or could very well be projects that emanated from the workshop atmosphere of the Prequel. One of Friday's concerts seemed to be leading to such a new signature project.

The Horns Trio, Shannon Barnett on trombone, Darius Jones on saxophone and Peter Evans on trumpet, already held a bit of an all-star aura, and they did not disappoint. They began with a deconstructed arrangement of the Jimmy Dorsey standard "I'm Glad There is You," in which Evans and Jones outlining the tunes tonal center while Barnett sung the lyrics. The second piece saw Barnett on trombone and the trio in a more chaotic mood. The next song began with a defiant melody from Evans while the two others provided syncopated accompaniment. Both Jones and Barnett broke out with solo moments, Jones' following an arc from sweet to sour and Barnett improvising a catchy melodic solo.

kwon, Jones, Ismialy, Wandinger, Chkheidze

If there is a criticism to be leveled, it could be that many of the plentiful, short sets tended to be a bit on the reserved side. Of course, considering that the musicians were just getting the feel of working together, there is a bit of politeness shaping the interactions to be expected. However, on the final day of the festival, one set seemed to shake this notion. The quintet featuring Chkheidze, Jones, yuniya edi kwon, Wandinger and Ismaily (this time on electric bass) simply shook the poop-deck with an infernal blast of sound. Starting with an explosion of free-jazz noise, the group then lurched into its fiery set with Kwon and Jones providing a tonal edginess and Wandinger hitting the drums with animalistic fervor. Ismaily introduced an urgent and pulsating bass line that provided a bit of structure, while Chkheidze's electronics provided a recessed sound-texture in the mayhem. So, while a whole festival at this decibel level would evoke other criticism, as a bit of spice, it was perfect.

Kulturraffinerie K714 under construction

For the upcoming third rotation of the cycle, The Festival, the creative and physical landscape will be changing. The roster of artists will be larger, with the 16 musicians from this cycle bringing in their own projects. Apparently the concerts will extend into other locations and places in town, including, possibly, the now under construction "Culture Refinery," a 4500 audience capacity arts venue built into the facade of an oil refinery built in 1914. Interestingly, the contaminated soil from the refinery was turned into an artificial mountain with a promenade of palm trees leading up to it - certainly something to explore further (though maybe not dig deeper into) in 2025.