KONZERT IM RUDERBOOT: MATS GUSTAFSSON & NATE WOOLEY
Mountain Tracks
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Mats Gustafsson – saxophone
Nate Wooley – trumpet
The Saalfelden lake can be found just a short 800m walk from the Main Stage, and is directly opposite the festival camping grounds. Past undulating hills and tucked away, surrounded by a vast panorama of glorious rocky mountains and grazing cattle, a strange quacking echoes from somewhere in the distance. The rowboat performance is a long-standing festival tradition occurring at 8:30 AM and it seems like the whole town comes out to watch. Fold-out chairs line the perimeter of the lake, and - is that ‘Where’s Waldo’? No, it’s James Brandon Lewis again! Everyone’s gathered to see Mats Gustafsson & Nate Wooley imitating wild game as they gently float around in circles on the glassy body of water. The improvisations are carried beautifully across the surface of the lake and can be heard echoing through the mountains from miles around. Some of the louder bursts even echo with delay. Most onlookers are fairly silent, but some are (understandably) giggling at the bizarre sights and sounds. Yes, it’s impressive, but I'll be damned if it’s not adorably funny, even cute, watching Mats and Nate gliding merrily along, making duck calls in a damn row boat. Brilliant concept, totally worth waking up early, and a great way to get some fresh, cool air in the lungs after the blistering heat wave of the previous days.
The Saalfelden lake can be found just a short 800m walk from the Main Stage, and is directly opposite the festival camping grounds. Past undulating hills and tucked away, surrounded by a vast panorama of glorious rocky mountains and grazing cattle, a strange quacking echoes from somewhere in the distance. The rowboat performance is a long-standing festival tradition occurring at 8:30 AM and it seems like the whole town comes out to watch. Fold-out chairs line the perimeter of the lake, and - is that ‘Where’s Waldo’? No, it’s James Brandon Lewis again! Everyone’s gathered to see Mats Gustafsson & Nate Wooley imitating wild game as they gently float around in circles on the glassy body of water. The improvisations are carried beautifully across the surface of the lake and can be heard echoing through the mountains from miles around. Some of the louder bursts even echo with delay. Most onlookers are fairly silent, but some are (understandably) giggling at the bizarre sights and sounds. Yes, it’s impressive, but I'll be damned if it’s not adorably funny, even cute, watching Mats and Nate gliding merrily along, making duck calls in a damn row boat. Brilliant concept, totally worth waking up early, and a great way to get some fresh, cool air in the lungs after the blistering heat wave of the previous days.
OLI STEIDLE & THE KILLING POPES
Otto Gruberhalle
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| Photo by Matthias Heschl |
Dan Nicholls - keys, electronics
Keisuke Matsuno - guitar
Justus Rayem - keys (absent)
Oli Steidle - drums midi controller
The Host is BACK. This time he’s making jokes in German about "Killing
Popes on a SUNDAY." Ha ha haa.. good one. He’s the man.
There’s just three popes today - Popes Lite! Things kick off with blips,
ploinks, water droplets and quick diverse selective drumming, hints of
drum & bass on the tempo, and a reverberant lead synth on an
interstellar exploration. One particularly windy synth sounds like an
ancient flute. It’s totally groovy, infectious... funky, even. This must
be around show number 6 for Oli, but save for a few beads of sweat on
the brow, from the accuracy of his form, one could never tell he’s been
so busy. He's just that professional. Oli was even one of the
participants in the Saturday morning “Jazz Hike,” which was, according
to him, "really great." It was unfortunate to have had to skip it due to
scheduling conflicts, but this was a recurring theme at Saalfelden: with
so much talent on offer at all hours of the day, there were often
clashes resulting in difficult sacrifices. Dan has a deep, descending
whirr going during a particularly trippin' breakdown while Keisuke
exudes charisma on the git. Oli is a man about broken breakbeats. Each
piece is deliberate, really infectious, creative, and always topped off
with a killer, out-of-nowhere fill. Such exciting musicians to watch.
You never know what's going to happen next; an addictive act!
The Halle is dense with bodies, but still plenty of space to boogie,
which some people do. Jim Black can be spied nodding, counting along to
Oli’s great drumming. A spontaneous tempo switch has feet tappin’ all
round and locked in music-lovers are bouncing fast, and smiling at the
riveting pace. One guy is grinning and shaking his head in disbelief at
the magic and musicianship unfolding onstage. His partner and friend are
deep in it too. Today is a good day for them. One woman walks past with
a Popes record, no doubt to keep the party rockin’ later on.
TOMEKA REID QUARTET
Main Stage
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| Photo by Matthias Heschl |
Tomeka Reid – cello
Jason Roebke - bass
Mary Halvorson - guitar
Tomas Fujiwara - drums
Slowly wrapping things up for the weekend, the soundcheck isn't quite
finished when they open the doors. It’s not a worry, nobody is fussy,
especially when it gives a glimpse into the wonderful show that’s ahead
of them. Sparse pitter-patters of Tomas's soft brushes meet the distant
harmonics of Tomeka’s soft cello. Mary comes in with her glorious
affected, reverberant guitar like a rainbow through the clouds,
illuminating the sombre piece. (Again, the photographers swarm…)
The piece in question has a nice, shuffley swing to it. Tomeka and Jason
play a main melody in unison an octave apart from each other. There's an
unmistakable soul. Is this what it means when they talk about that "New
York Jazz?” Tomas's plays an explosive little solo with a beautiful,
natural fluidity.
Among other creative and unorthodox playing techniques used sparingly,
Tomeka uses a “pressing” technique to elicit a rubbing sound. The
playoff between Mary and Tomeka is complementary and conversational.
There is hardly a seat free in the house. At one point Jason leans in
and blows into the hole of his upright bass to produce an amplified,
well, blowing sound. Tomeka accompanies with eccentric experimental
plucking and creaking methods. Mary joins with feather light plucks and
Tomas adds the occasional spattering of cymbal. Soon the instrumentation
evolves slowly into a shifty jazz ballad, it's complicated but not to
the point of being unpalatable. In fact, it’s quite enjoyable. Tomeka's
cello harmonics whistle softly and the bass brings it all home.
POST KOMA FEAT. SOFIA JERNBERG
Main Stage
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| Photo by Matthias Heschl |
Petter Eldh - bass
Sofia Jernberg - voice
Jonas Kulhammar - saxophone
Kaja Draxler - piano
Lukas König - drums
Petter explained the entomology of Post Koma: Koma Saxo is the original
but Post Koma is with whoever he wants to play. Petter’s bone-dry stage
banter is hilariously cheeky: "Normally we have Christian Lillinger –
today we’ve got a better drummer, Lukas König.”
Petter rips a gorgeous bass solo and is joined by Kaja – it’s
wonderfully melodic. In some groups it’s not always so obvious to the
onlooker who is in charge, but with Post Koma it's clear that Petter is
the leader. The basslines are frequent; involved and busy, and beyond
that there's plenty of bass features accompanied only by drums or piano.
Sofia's sweet high voice provides a fitting top layer to round out the
sound. The concept is established and confident. The compositions are
tight. Sofia gives accents reminiscent of a powerful singer over a 90s
club track. Love that.
Petter’s epically dark stage banter continues: ”This is a WORLD
premiere. This song has a Swedish tone, by a Swedish man. I won't
mention his name because he doesn't deserve it. Anyway, he’s dead.” So
far Petter is just about the only artist to have any real jokes between
songs and it's so funny.
Throughout the show there are some really cool percussive interludes in
interesting shifting measures that have you counting along and keep you
guessing. Again, the hall is packed, this time the balcony even more so.
So far this is one of the most crowded shows, certainly due to the
caliber of the musicians but probably also due to the bad weather and
the rest of the festival having already packed up and called it a
weekend.
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| Ches Smith (with "The Throw"). Photo by Matthias Heschl |
Speaking of which, it would have been an absolute delight to have
indulged in Erik Friedlander’s “The Throw”, closing out the festival, as
I am such a fan, but the intensity and overload of program dictated to
me and my exhausted mortal hull that this was not to be. Which is
terribly unfortunate, because aside from the New-York-based quartet
being highly reputable, world class musicians in their own right,
according to the photographs, Ches Smith wore a pair of white knee
socks. Oh well. You snooze, you lose.
Saalfelden Festival runs a tight ship, and it’s obvious why people keep
returning after 44 years in a row. Its success can be attributed to the
professionalism of its co-ordinators, diversity of its artists, the
variety of its different sized stages, and the overall great mood of
seemingly everyone involved. It’s a testament to the festival that the
artists were so present and happy to hang around the site among the
festival-goers, but the blessing of great weather and a wide range of
different food and entertainment options meant that there was never a
dull moment. Yes, it was exhaustive, but perhaps the more seasoned
Saalfelden attendee would be less overwhelmed the second time around.
The only way to find out is to invite me back to next year’s Saalfelden
#45, as I am already daydreaming about getting down to that sweet little
mountain town, strolling over the valley at dawn, and enjoying some new
set of glorious weirdos, floating around, gently down the stream,
merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily torturing their musical instruments
in a dingy.
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