Saalfelden Jazz Festival 2024 (1/3)

By Sarah Grosser

Day 1: Friday, 2024-08-23

Not their first rodeo - this was to be the 44th Saalfelden Jazz Festival, and one could tell by the scale of the production that this time it was going to be enormous. The hand-flyer summed up its gargantuan pitch: 4 DAYS - 60 CONCERTS - 200 ARTISTS - 13 LOCATIONS - 1 APP.

This reporter arrived on Friday and only managed to make it to 3 DAYS - 14 CONCERTS - 54 ARTISTS - 7 LOCATIONS - 1 APP, and even having only experienced a quarter of what the festival had to offer, it was still exhausting. Thankfully the Mainstage VIP, Press, & Guest area provided warm catering and a number of open bars, but with the aforementioned 200 artists roaming freely and mingling amongst the patrons, adrenaline and excitement does tend to lower the appetite. One thing that never gets tiring however, is playing “Where’s Waldo (Festival Edition)” with the likes of, say, James Brandon Lewis or Jim Black. No matter which show you would go to, there would always be a musician peeking in and watching over your shoulder. For jazz trainspotters, just another dash of fun amidst an already dense program of musical activity. 

 

LEÏLA MARTIAL & VALENTIN CECCALDI

Short Cuts Stage

 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Leïla Martial – voice

Valentin Ceccaldi – cello

Boris Darley – sound

Entering the balcony floor a couple minutes late, the Short Cuts Theatre was hot, dark, and full. Black walls made it virtually impossible to determine whether or not you were standing next to a wall or another person. Despite this and an obscured view, the performance was a breathtaking cello and voice duo. Leïla Martial sounds like an operatic mix between Beth Gibbons of Portishead and Susanne Sundfør. She has the brilliance and power of a pop singer, but also the very delicate, tiny, and minute emotional tones of someone older and wiser. She pairs this with some very subtle effects that she masterfully incorporates with an avant-garde flair. Not just singing, but making physical sounds with her mouth and incorporating instrumental tools as diverse as a slide whistle and a music-box hurdy-gurdy thing, looping effects, and reversing. All the while, the constant heartbeat of Valentin Ceccaldi's appropriate and reduced baseline and melody back her up. Combined, they make a very delicate and warm duo. They performed a song called "Cold Song," the temperature of which was certainly not the case inside the theatre, due to an uncharacteristically hot day over 30 degrees Celsius.

MONA MATBOU RIAHI - “NEBULIFT”
Main Stage

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Mona Matbou Riahi - clarinet, fx
Dorian Concept - synthesizer, electronics
Manu Mayr - bass, fx
Lou Zon - visual art

The Main Stage floor seats around 450, with press & VIP on a balcony with glass railing; perfect for views from above. The press are everywhere. Swarms of photographers line the front row, at least fourteen of them. The room is silently listening, save for the odd shutter snap. The photographers soon have their shots and Mona begins her cool, weird clarinet wail. Gradual descending bass fills the space. It’s dreamy, like a soundtrack, reverb heavy, and pretty. Deep, subconscious, distant, meditative, introspective, reflective, subtle. Lou Zon’s visuals glow like breathing shimmering opals. Eventually making way for an oscillating beat with more focus, imaginative and evocative - very easy on the ears, welcoming and relaxing.

The visuals of trees and leaves blowing are zen-like and ambient. Mona feels every slice, every pulse. The great sound system annunciates beautifully and along with a lot of sub bass nuances, the mix is really satisfying. Playing two horns at once creates a train sound that crescendos. It’s captivating, engaging, cathartic, focussed, special. Mona is possessed.

When the synth builds, it's like a beatless trance record from 1999. Samples from traditional Palestinian singing add to the transcendental vibe. It's great chemistry. Mona’s clarinet is a tether to the mortal realm; a trip sitter holding our hand through the chakra-cleansing voyage. Peaceful, occasionally disturbing, but in a good way, like asking yourself a difficult question. When you know the answer, it's not an easy truth to face. But you also know you can't go back, and it's a new chapter.

Overheard in German, "This is definitely TOO experimental." Perhaps for some, but for others it’s brave, ambitious, and a success on all fronts. Dorian's loop layering is euphoric and unique. For seasoned jazz fans maybe it's too far out, but for lovers of experimental electronica, a rare delight. Thank goodness for "too experimental" bands.

BOTTICELLI BABY
City Tracks Stage

Photo by Rosario Multari

Marlon Bösherz - bass, vocals

Max Wehner - trombone

Thomas Rieder - trumpet

Christian Scheer - saxophone

Jörg Buttler - guitar

Lucius Nawothnig - piano

Tom Hellenthal - drums

I only got the chance to hear Botticelli Baby for a brief moment while exploring the other stages of the festival. Their brass-heavy seven-piece performed on the public City Tracks stage to a completely packed audience of families and casual festival-goers. Their feelgood melodies captivated the entire park. Marlon Bösherz has the look and charismatic performance style of IDLES Joe Talbot, if Joe had taken a couple of pre-show chill pills. They’re cute and cool – everyone is enjoying them. They also offered a staggering range of some of the most impressive merchandise in the scene, including this Botticelli Baby soccer-fan scarf .

KRIS DAVIS TRIO

Main Stage

 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

 

Kris Davis - piano

Robert Hurst - bass

Johnathan Blake - drums

Another swarm of photographers all huddle the stage to get their snap during the solo opening piece. Götz Bühler, the host in white suit jacket is… everywhere! It seems like he is announcing every single performance of the festival, on every stage. His enthusiasm and charisma are contagious, and his passion for remembering the names of each individual musician and pronouncing them correctly is disturbingly professional.

Pyroclastic Records chief and star pianist Ms. Kris Davis performs pieces from "Run the Gauntlet." Davis announces it’s their first performance in Europe, and the next one: "Little Footsteps" is written for her son.

Mary Halvorson and Tomas Fujiwara are standing right behind me - holy guacamole.

Johnathan Blake's drums are FLAT! All low, and angled parallel to the floor. He is all ride. Surely this offers him more control over the volume, but it also gives the audience an uninterrupted view at his precise, effortless drumming. Robert Hurst plays deliberate, intentional bass with solid groove & unmistakable funk. The rhythm section are clearly feelin' it, both musicians nodding along to their rhythms in occasional syncopation with each other. It's easy to spot the musicians in the crowd, because they are in similar sync, grooving with the band. Most everyone else is just watching, still.

Kris's fingers dance over the keys like a spider meticulously spinning its web; precise and methodical, as if by nature. Beams of light illuminate the stage in long sticks that compliment the quieter, more reduced, ballad-y moments of the set.

Mary & Thomas have left but now Tomeka Reid is kickin' it in the back, locked in to the performance.

Kris' soft piece is thoroughly composed as the band reads off of sheet music. A galloping bass solo is met with huge applause – captivating, with just a lil' slap, (or maybe a "love tap") here and there. When the band lifts it up a bit, it's the kind of jazz you could listen to forever. Groovy and interesting, it's like a delicious meal you don't want to finish.

The compositions are such fun, watching them swing, as they really spring into life doing what they could probably do in their sleep. A walking bassline and a ring-a-ding ride are classic, but done so well. Kris dives down into the keys like a flock of seabirds diving into the ocean from the sky, spearing their fish for dinner. The lights are absolutely beautiful. If jazz is to be played in a concert hall, this is precisely how it should be honoured. Props to the stage design team. It looks great.

DANIEL ERDMANNS “THÉRAPIE DE COUPLE”
Main Stage  

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Daniel Erdmann - saxophone
Hélène Duret - clarinet/bass clarinet
Théo Ceccaldi - violin
Vincent Courtois - cello
Robert Lucaciu - bass
Eva Klesse - drums

Götz Bühler, the host with the most, is back to introduce the sextet… Love that guy.

“Couples Therapy” are a colourful bunch: Eva Klesse is hunched over the kit in a signature stance. Robert Lucaciu is on upright bass, sporting two sleeves of tattoos. Theo Ceccaldi’s funky pants steal the show. Erdmann, with his soft, floppy hair, is wearing the only tie I have seen in 2024 and that's perfectly fine. He can also play the saxophone, and his performance is certainly animated, shuffling from foot to foot. Although he is the leader, it’s not a particularly sax-heavy performance. It’s dramatic, suspenseful, and string heavy, with a bass & cello standoff, going tremolo.

The melodies are thoughtful, even kind of fun, but still original. Tasteful. Not catchy, but lovely and palatable. Upbeat. All the while, it's so hard not to watch that delightfully bizarre drummer!

Ceccaldi (in the good pants) is sporting the Human League haircut: the classic Phil Oakey. It suits him. One particularly wild violin solo elicits a "Wow!" from somewhere behind me. He’s quite the showman, thrusting his mop all over the joint. He's a madman. They're all mad. It's rare to see a bass clarinet, even rarer to see one played as soulfully and passionately as Hélène Duret. It soars through the night.

The strings are brilliant. Classical interludes amongst the jazz are like a drizzling of warm, spiced honey. At one point, Ceccaldi plucks his violin like a lil' ukulele. Vincent Courtois’s cello solo is intense and high pitched reaching moments of pathos. The bass clarinet is so breathy and deep in contrast to the higher pitched notes of the cello. It’s a great dichotomy, whereas normally these roles are reversed: the clarinet’s timbre traditionally plays the higher frequencies, well above the lower tones of the cello. Lucaciu’s bass solo is patient, harmonic, resonant, commanding, building, and thunderous.

THE END - “Why Do We Mourn?”
Main Stage 

Photo by Matthias Heschl

Sofia Jernberg - voice

Kjetil Møster - clarinet, tenor sax, electronics

Mats Gustafsson - flutes, baritone sax, live electronics

Anders Hana - baritone, bass guitar, langeleik

Børge Fjordheim - drums

Dominant electric bass plus more rocky drums with two brain-melting saxophonists. This is free jazz pure. Throwing the sax skywards, Mats is an exhibitionist. Anders Hana has longish, rock-star hair, which is fitting for an electric bassist. Sofia Jenberg joins in unison with sax #2, providing an organic, textural element which compliments the quartet naturally and logically.

Her singing is full of dramatic scats, wails, and cries. But it is much more controlled- she is invoking some kind of wild spirit, but she is a vessel for its song.She translates their otherworldly message as a human interpretation, presenting it for us mere mortals that we may attempt to comprehend.

The saxophone squarks and her bird-like calls are a fitting match for each other. At one point the combination of bass sax and clarinet together imitate the sounds of a bowed upright bass.

The music verges on metal in its rough, doom-like nature. Hints of Black Sabbath on some of the darker riffs are complemented by the red and black light show. The electric bass also contributes heavily to the overall grit and grunt of the vibe. Great for headbanging and throwing devil horns with the hands. Fitting that they are called "The End." Apocalyptic. Instrumentally, this group is a great match with each other – certainly not a band for the casual jazz enjoyer. This stuff is HEAVY. Occasionally Sofia's voice ventures into the realm of child soprano, fragile but trained. It's a gift to be able to switch into this timbre of innocence. Not something that can be taught.

It's been a long day and some people are starting to feel the weight of the intensity. The melodic lap steel and crescendoing electro effects, combined with malletting drums and harmonica are too much for some. Granted it's 12:30 AM. Some of the slower songs are a bit lethargic after such a hot day, and while they are still resonant, and well executed, it’s a bit sleepy. Nothing against the performers or the work - some folks are rocking to the beat and even tapping their feet along, so it's certainly connecting with those with which it is meant to connect.

Again, the bass sax is hurled skyward, producing a screech straight from hell; harrowing, and genuinely frightening. The mood is foreboding. It's certainly powerful, but it's a lot, this late at night. Now they bring out the flute and for some people this is the breaking point. For those who leave, someone from the perimeter swoops in and steals a front row seat.