Summer Memories: Gunter 'Baby' Sommer's Sister and Brotherhood and Jazzwerkstatt Peitz

My apologies! These have been sitting in my 'to-post' pile too long now. So, as the clocks start falling back for winter, here's a little remembrance of the summer, first with a review of Gunter 'Baby' Sommer's contribution to the "Free Jazz Big Band" niche, and a photo exhibit from the Jazzwerksatt Peitz Festival.

Gunter 'Baby' Sommer's Sister and Brotherhood @ Jazz am Kaisersteg. July 22, Berlin

Gunter "Baby" Sommer. Photo by G. v. Schroeder

By Paul Acquaro

Günter 'Baby' Sommer’s big-band project brings together a stellar ensemble in what can only be described as a who's who of the Berlin music scene, paying tribute to Chris McGregor’s legendary 'Brotherhood of Breath.' With unfettered joy, the ensemble captures the spirit of the beloved musician through Sommer’s compositions, original works from the 1970s, and pieces by other ensemble members.

The musical arrangements are centered around Sommer’s multi-directional rhythms. Sitting stage left, the 80-year-young percussionist anchors the group with his dynamic drumming. The band fills the stage with a diverse, vibrant presence, while Scottish saxophonist Raymond MacDonald not only plays but occasionally takes on the role of conductor and arranger.

Standout solos by woodwind player Gebhard Ullman and saxophonist Anna Kaluza captured the audience, but in a crowd of seasoned musicians like Frank Gratkowski, Silke Eberhart, Matthias Schubert, and trombonists Anke Lucks, Marleen Dahms, and Gerhard Gschlößl, alongside trumpeters Nikolaus Neuser and Martin Klingeberg, each brought their unique flair. The rhythm section, featuring bassist Antonio Borghini and Sommer’s long-time collaborator from the classic GDR (East German) Free Jazz band Synopisis (later Zentrallquartett), added depth, dynamism, and a bit of history to the ensemble.

The setting was equally captivating. Nestled in a small green pocket along the Spree river, in the heart of a former industrial area - once one of Europe’s largest - Jazzkeller69's 'Jazz at the Kaisersteg' offers a powerful connection between the audience and the music, bringing jazz from the clubs into the open park. Here, newcomers might stumble upon free jazz, feel inspired, and come back wanting more. Experiencing Sommer’s Free Jazz Big Band is like taking a bite-size crash course in Free Jazz history, while enjoying a showcase of some of the city's best established and emerging musicians.

Jazzwerkstatt 61. August 2024, Peitz, Germany 

I wrote the snippet below about the Jazzwerkstatt Peitz Festival on the occasion of its 50th anniversary in 2023:

Affectionately called Woodstock am Karpfenteich, the nickname of the Peitz festival captures the spirit of the time. In the GDR, it was a moment for the younger generation to get together and express themselves in a closely watched political system. Going back to the programs from the festival's start from 1973 until 1982, when it was shut down by the authorities, is pretty mouthwatering. Names like Peter Brötzmann, Johannes Bauer, Conny Bauer, Leo Smith, Peter Kowald, Günter “Baby” Sommer, Harry Beckett, Harry Miller, Louis Moholo, John Surman, Barre Phillips, Barry Guy, and so many more, ring a Pavolvian bell for the the free jazz fan. Fortunately, much of the music was recorded and has been - and still is being - released by Uli Blobel on his Jazzwerkstatt label. Starting in 2011, the festival started up again in Peitz, with a just as rich line ups - if not more so - of musicians.

This year, founder and long time curator Uli Blobel handed the reins over to his daughter Marie Blobel, who organized the festival's 2024 edition. On hand was frequent Free Jazz Collective collaborator Cristina Marx who valiantly photographed the entire three day festival often in the blazing sun. Here is some of what she captured:

ØKSE

Peter Evans' Being and Becoming

Monk's Casino

Carl Ludwig Hübsch’s Longrun Development of the Universe

 

Mette Rasmussen & Sun-Mi Hong

Willi Kellers The Circle

Willi Kellers with Jazzpreis Brandenburg (sculpture by Helge Leiberg)

Etienne Nillesen

Schnellertollermeier

Mieke Miami’s Birdland

Daniel Erdmann – Aki Takase

Pospieszalski - Andrezejewski

Paula Rae Gibson - The Roles We Play To Disappear (33 Xtreme, 2024)

By Sammy Stein

The Roles We Play To Disappear will be released by acclaimed artist Paula Rae Gibson on Fri 1st of November on 33 Xtreme label.

It is an album of experimental songs, and electronica written and produced collaboratively with electronic musician and trumpeter, Alex Bonney and award-winning pianist, Kit Downes with notable contributions by Rob Luft on guitar and Matthew Bourne on piano, cello, and synth.

The album was already featured at an exhibition of Paula's portraits of emotion, ‘Be Alive With Me’ – a photographic tribute to her late husband, British film director Brian Gibson – which exhibited Tuesday 1st– Sunday 6th October 2024 at Fitzrovia Chapel, London, W1T 3BF.

Gibson has the gift to transfer emotion from her heart and soul into the music she creates and here she excels. This album is a stark, deeply emotive song cycle and the way Gibson puts sounds and musicians together and how the music has been produced could be compared to several others but in truth, it is pure Gibson, and the sound is uniquely hers. The press office informed me this album was ‘brilliant and utterly beautiful’ and they were right. This is the embodiment of ensemble work across which vocal lines pitch and pivot to capture and deliver specific and intimate emotions in a beautifully worked manner. Completely immersive, this music gets to your soul, traversing genres and delivering heartfelt, soul-warming music.

This song cycle explores deep emotions including some of the darker facets of commitment to a relationship like breakdown, and entrapment and Gibson creates a sense of intimacy as she reveals layer after layer of her inner self. Yet, despite the emotional energy the music contains, Gibson retains pitch and control of tone and volume and there is clearly a deep resonance between the music supporting the voice and the vocal lines. The musicians are given places to shine too and one of the characteristics of this recording is the quality of the ensemble work. Gibson occupies the periphery of the music at times, while emerging from its core at others, creating a sense of ethereal, spiritual connection.

There is urgency, a sense of not understanding yet also at other times deep insights into the soul, memories, and the transforming power of time, peace, and above all, connective love. It is difficult to put into words the emotional charge that feels contained within the songs and lyrical lines and the music perpetuates this instinctively with arrangements that soar and rise at the perfect moments.

‘Heart Off The Hook’ is deeply moving with Gibson’s vocals strikingly atmospheric across the delicately placed percussive background. At times, the whispering eeriness of Gibson’s voice is so moving it deftly embodies the lyrical narrative of the number. The story is of giving oneself, ‘no one gets invited to my heart for very long’ yet listen further and you realise– they surely did. The echoed piano notes in the final phrases offer a sense of a void into which those emotions are being tipped.

‘Ashes As Confetti’ develops from the backdrop of electronic soundwaves with Gibson asserting vocal lines across the top. The warping keys and intricate percussive rhythms vie perfectly creating a density of sound Gibson’s ghostly voice rises phantom-like above.

‘Necessary Drama’ is lighter, airy and features stringed effects and chorded delights, across which Gibson flits and dips, her rich, warm voice questioning the meaning of love and leaving. The shocker of the final line, ‘She buried her son, her friends, her husband, her everyone’ sums up the atmosphere and heartfelt depths of the number.

The beautifully worked ‘The Silence and The Shadow’ is a perfect vehicle for highlighting the talents of Alex Bonney’s trumpet as it drops in periodically, releasing temporarily the genie that wafts across the surreal lines of voice and background.

Gibson is adept at using her voice to encapsulate profound thoughts, sometimes sad and often with deeper meaning. From the brooding dark energy and gorgeous harmonics contained in ‘My Hope’s Back’ to the brightness of ‘Necessary Drama’ and the twists and turns (as that number is not on a light subject) that surprise and capture the listener.

The easy, relaxed essence of ‘Fall Into You,’ about the uniting of souls, and the interesting noises in the background belie the charged emotions of the track. The short ‘Lover Two Takes You To Lover Three’ is worth its 48 seconds because this track evolves into ‘Makes No Difference to The Trees’ which is a delight of spoken and sung voice, electronic atmospheres, and intricate rhythms, that seem to capture energy like an intake of breath that is held and then exhaled in waves and ripples of sonic delight. The contained energy builds and builds. ‘I Am Not’ is simply glorious with a wonderful deep ‘cello voice pitted against Gibson’s breathy, vocals.

Many of the tracks seem to carry a pulse, like a heartbeat and this maybe encapsulates the life force that feels like it works its way through this music.

The eerie, surreal ‘3 Am Always’ morphs into ‘Ashes as Confetti’ reprise which in turn develops into an energised, slightly unbalanced number that closes this album perfectly with male and female voices pitched across a percussive background, topped by warping strings, among them a wonderfully deep bowed ‘cello line. The final spoken words are ‘I can’t save you’ but this album does just that. It saves us from complacency, and despair because, while there is music like this, there is hope. This album is a thing of beauty, period.

Kalaparusha Maurice McIntyre - Rivbea Live! Series, July 12, 1975 Volume 1 (NoBusiness 2024)

By Martin Schray

In the late 1970s, New York City seemed to be on its last legs. Faced with economic stagnation, industrial decline and the threat of financial bankruptcy, the city was forced to lay off employees and cut municipal services, affecting waste disposal and schools. The already high unemployment rates in the city continued to rise. Violence increased, the crime rate rose rapidly, arson and theft were commonplace. Manhattan was not the gentrified playground for the super-rich like today, prostitution and open drug dealing dominated even the area around Times Square. The Lower East Side was actually a no-go area. Crime series and films such as Kojak, Shaft and Superfly depicted this atmosphere, the action always supported by soundtracks that are sometimes iconic today. But if a director had made an unsparing film about the city, his soundtrack would have had to be music from the loft scene, which was emerging at the time - wild free jazz, uncompromising and raw. The center of the storm was Sam Rivers’ Studio Rivbea located at 24 Bond Street. On July 12, 1975 saxophonist Kalaparusha Maurice McIntyre played there with his quartet comprised of trumpeter and AACM alum Malachi Thompson, drummer Alvin Fielder, and electric bassist Milton Suggs - and their music would have been the ideal imaginary soundtrack for that film.

McIntyre began his musical career in Chicago and became a member of the Association for the AACM, he was even one of its public voices in the 1960s. In the 1970s, he moved to New York City and played frequently at Rivbea Studios, as well as teaching at Karl Berger’s Creative Music Studio. This album here also dates from this period. His career seemed to be on the rise, as in 1974 he received the Rising Star Award in the clarinet category of the Down Beat Polls.

Rivbea Live! Series, July 12, 1975Volume 1 consists of three untitled pieces and begins with a melody line by the two reedists that displays a quirky funkiness. However, McIntyre and Thompson quickly lose themselves and play around each other. McIntyre’s style is definitely reminiscent of the late John Coltrane, spiritual themes shimmer through, but they are repeatedly broken up. Added to this are Fielder’s free playing and, above all, Suggs’ pumping, wobbly electric bass. The cleverly arranged rhythmic chaos is always cut through by razor-sharp brass solos, creating a harsh tension in the music that reflects the violence present in the city. This is countered by rare, calm melodic heads, which only feign harmony for a short time. Staccato chords, arpeggios, solo appearances and dry funk rhythms destroy the idyllic scenes. The music then drives forward again, it’s restless and nervous. All three compositions on this album are robust vehicles that have to withstand the hard centrifugal force of the improvisations of all four. Sadly, this band was relatively short-lived, although the musicians were passionate and eager to play, masters of their craft to boot - McIntyre’s and Thompson’s solos alone are worth listening to it closely in their sheer brilliancy and captivity.

Unfortunately, Kalaparusha McIntyre did not have the career that was actually predicted for him, most likely prevented by his drug addiction. With his contribution to the opening track of the first of the legendary Wildflowers compilations, he once again had the opportunity to take off. Between 1977 and 1984, he recorded seven albums, four of them as a leader. On the last one he is a member of the wonderful Ethnic Heritage Ensemble. All these albums are excellent. After 1984, Kalaparusha Maurice McIntyre disappeared for almost 15 years. From 1998 onwards, new recordings emerged every now and then, unfortunately never quite at the same level as before, his musical power seemed to have died out. He passed away impoverished in 2013. These recordings from his best period in the early 70s are a surprise and a treat. The fact that this is Volume 1 gives hope for a Volume 2 in the not too distant future.

Rivbea Live! Series, July 12, 1975Volume 1 is available as a CD and as a download. You can listen to “Unidentified Title 1“ and order the album here.

Kris Davis Trio – Run the Gauntlet (Pyroclastic Records, 2024) *****

By Don Phipps

Combining improvisation and formalism, the music on the Kris Davis Trio’s Run the Gauntlet sizzles and pops with creative flair. Davis (piano), Robert Hurst (bass) and Johnathan Blake (drums) bring their A game to the studio, and over the course of the album’s ten compositions, nine by Davis and one by Blake, the trio work their magic in dynamic artistic fashion.

Davis, who composed nine of the ten tracks that grace the album (the one exception is the beautiful Blake ballad “Beauty Beneath the Rubble”), uses a combination of blues infused modal architecture to catapult her explorations – journeys that contain elements of boisterous and energetic free playing side by side with soft poetic flourishes. Listen to the rotational structure evidenced in “Little Footsteps,” where her music sounds almost circular – as though one is tripping down a set of stairs in slow motion. And her technique – centered on a precise touch of the keys – adds to the emotional element, whether she is playing full chords, free running motifs, or single notes. Then there is her head-nodding “Heavy footed,” where at one point she creates a series that is almost harp-like. Or the aggressive and pushy “Knotweed,” which highlights her ability to propel abstractions along as though they were wild horses galloping across open land. And one should not miss the title cut, where she mixes modal and free playing to create a stunning, jumpy, driving dance.

Hurst adds his plucks and bowing to create interest within the structures of the compositions. On the title cut and on “Little Footsteps,” listen to his agile bass solo, which creates a strong element of surprise while remaining firmly planted within the compositional flow. Or his dreamy opening on “Softly, As You Wake” and “Beauty Beneath the Rubble,” an intro that sets just the right atmosphere for the trio’s bluesy poetic ambiance. And on “Knotweed,” where his racing lines feel so fluid, they sound like the musical equivalent of water rollicking down a mountain channel.

Blake’s drumming is simultaneously warm and forceful. His cymbal work contributes on almost all of the tracks in unexpected and startling ways. For example, the way he uses cymbals to create the equivalent of gentle ocean spray on “Beauty Beneath the Rubble Meditation.” And on the title cut, “Little Footsteps,” “Heavy footed,” and “Knotweed,” how he plays off Davis’s rolls and strolls with lively and impressive - but never heavy-handed - all-over drum work. His off-beat pulses are particularly notable on the title cut (where his solos are not to be missed) and “Coda Queen.” And even on short passages, like the opening of “Knotweed,” you can hear the meticulous way he shapes his forceful expositions.

Beyond the outstanding music, what makes Run the Gauntlet significant is its varied use of tempo and how it is used to create pieces that soar with spirit while remaining coupled to structure. Think of a kite that sways along in the wind while tethered to a string. On Run the Gauntlet, Davis and her bandmates invite us to glide, float, and spin along her compositional universe. And what a special head-nodding universe it is! Highly recommended.

Harri Sjöström - Sunday Interview

© photo Uwe Bley

1.  What is your greatest joy in improvised music?

To play with others in intensive-concentrated-listening and open-to-risk collectives. I particularly like everything from duos – sextets, but occasionally there had been some really enjoyable larger groups as well.

2. What quality do you most admire in the musicians you perform with?

Generally speaking: the profound/convincing ability of deep listening, selflessness playing, joy of sharing, “jumping into cold water”.

3. Which historical musician/composer do you admire the most?

Oh dear, there are more than one…: Anton Webern, Edgar Varèse, Iannis Xenakis, Eric Dolphy, John Coltrane.

4. If you could resurrect a musician to perform with, who would it be?

I would like to play with Fred Frith and Lori Freedman, playing with Lori is coming up soon.

5. What would you still like to achieve musically in your life?

Ha! Concerning me as an artist I wish to maintain a continuous healthy stream of creativity and an ongoing openness towards changes along the road.

Concerning contemporary improvised music I would like to see -in general- better recognition of the many merits of this music. Among other things, significantly improved performance opportunity in good venues such as acoustically suitable concert halls Philharmonic halls would contribute to this. I founded the ongoing “SoundScapes – Festival” 2016 to support the contemporary improvised music scene to achieve some of these aims.

6. Are you interested in popular music and - if yes - what music/artist do you particularly like?

My musical background includes a fair variety of popular, rock, blues and soul music for sure. I can still enjoy many of the artists from the Woodstock period, perhaps Jimmy Hendrix especially.

7. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Well, I’m working on to learn more about keeping my body in good condition and my mind in good spirits.

8. Which of your albums are you most proud of?

Quintet Moderne - Wellsprings (2004)

Sestetto Internazionale - Due Mutabili (2023)


Milano Dialogues - Windows & Mirrors (2022)


Milano Dialogues - More Windows & Small Mirrors (2023)

Milano Dialogues - Flight Mode Live in Berlin (2024)

9. Once an album of yours is released, do you still listen to it? And how often?

Yes, I listen every now and then but I can’t say it’s really regularly. My listening concentrates on new material under work in mixing etc. for the releases. This occupies a lot of time.

10. Which album (from any musician) have you listened to the most in your life?

It's hard to pin down one particular because it’s related to different periods of my life.

Probably the album I’ve heard the most was “complete webern * boulez”.

Actually I don’t listen that much to albums, I prefer visiting live concerts.

11. What are you listening to at the moment?

The latest music I listened to has been Frank Gratkowski's Mature Hybrid Talking and Entrainment, Concerto for Violin and Symphony Orchestra's Auseil and Veli Kujala - Concerto for Vi.

12. What artist outside music inspires you?

Sources of inspiration outside music lay in abstract painting, contemporary photography, contemporary theatre.

Harri Sjöström on the Free Jazz Blog:

Cecil Taylor Quintet - Lifting the Bandstand (Fundacja Słuchaj, 2021) ****

The Balderin Sali - Variations (Leo Records, 2019) *****

New from FMP

Cecil Taylor: Corona / Conversations with Tony Oxley

MOVE - Hyvinkää (uniSono, 2017) ****

Essential Listening: Alexander Hawkins’ Desert Island Picks

Photo (c) Cristina Marx

By David Cristol

At festivals in Italy and Portugal in March and May of this year, I met and talked about music with Oxford pianist, organist, composer, bandleader and teacher Alexander Hawkins, who was premiering his new quintet and playing with Michael Formanek, Ricardo Toscano and Tim Berne. An avid record listener and fan, with tastes ranging from classical to global, soul, jazz and beyond, this passion led him to hosting the weekly radio program “Break a Vase” starting in 2023 (on mixcloud then reprised on the online radio station OneJazz), where he talks about favorite tracks selected for audiences to get acquainted with or revisit. Before he embarked on a series of dazzlingly diverse gigs in the US, from San Francisco to Ann Arbor, and then more shows in Europe, he agreed to browse through his shelves and extract seven discs that mean a lot to him, for any reason, be it influential pianism, production qualities, pure listening pleasure or composed works he finds baffling. 

Alexander Hawkins:

I love this type of interview where I get to choose records to talk about them because, ultimately, I’m a music fan as much as I am a musician. I think the two are part of the same thing. It’s also horribly difficult to talk about albums. Being asked to talk about albums is a little like free improvisation: it’s not as free as you might think; this is a different interview – but that’s one of the reasons why I personally steer clear of completely free improvisation in my own practice. The point is that the choices are so varied that there’s a bit of a brain freeze involved. And just like a compositional prompt helps me to be freer in a musical context, I almost like to impose parameters on myself when choosing records. So, for example in this selection I’m going to leave apart some albums which are simply part of my DNA, that I’ve known since I was so little that I just have a non-critical love relationship to them. If I were a robot, these would be pre-installed software. I’m thinking here of things like the Art Tatum trio album with Red Callender and Jo Jones, or the Tatum/Ben Webster record, or the Rex Stewart/Duke Ellington small group session from July 3, 1941 where they play Menelik (The Lion of Judah) and Poor Bubber... Albums like this I’ve known for so long that I just can’t think critically about them, although I love to talk about them. And then, I would love to talk about, you know, what about “five albums I don’t understand” , because that’s an interesting conversation too, or “don’t like but feel I somehow should” , or “ five favorite pianists” or “five albums by living musicians” . In the end what I’ve done this time around is just going to my shelves and pulled some things off because I understand that at some point I’m passionate about whatever I’m listening to, maybe even in a positive or negative way because I feel one of the things I’m getting better at is learning from music that I’m not into, you know, why is that? what do I learn about my musical identity from that fact? and so on. 

This first album I chose is the Smithsonian Folkways recording of the “Mbuti People of the Ituri Rainforest”. It’s this absolutely stunning polyphonic choral music which I suppose many people will be familiar with. It’s one of the recordings that was actually sent into space as an experience and example of culture to friendly aliens. And I love this music on a very surface level because it’s incredibly beautiful; it inspires me because it has a mysterious quality. I understand what is happening on a technical level, that it’s a music of yodeling and rapid transpositions, a music of hocketing, interlocking parts, and yet even knowing this, it has this mystery and elusiveness quality to it. I feel about these recordings much the same way I do about music of, for example, Bach: astonishing organization and almost because of this degree of order, a great degree of mystery to what’s going on, beautiful and endlessly inspiring, because I don’t quite get it to some level. There’s also by the way an incredible book written by Colin Turnbull, called “The Forest People”, and it was he who collected these recordings in Congo.

Second album comes from the classical section of the shelves. On a million occasions I have expressed my deep passion for Maurizio Pollini, a genius pianist who we sadly lost earlier in the year. What I love is that he has this absolute clarity of vision, refusal to compromise, lack of histrionics and a perfect simplicity to his playing. Well, the same is true of the pianist in this selection, which is Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli , one of my heroes on the instrument. One of the recordings I love is that on Deutsche Grammophon, of him playing the Chopin “Mazurkas” . I initially didn’t love Chopin because I have a block against romantic music, I loved the structuralists, Bach and XXth century musicians, and then I frankly got over myself because I realized there was a lot of weirdness and counterpoint and structure in romantic music. Chopin carried around a copy of Bach’s “Well-tempered Clavier” with him repeatedly, and you can hear it in the organization of a lot of his music. The Mazurkas are possibly my favorite among his pieces. They’re often very short, folk-influenced, and epigrammatic in a certain way. What’s beguiling to me about Chopin is that on a surface level it can be very beautiful and that can give it a sheen, a gloss that sometimes I don’t find attractive, and people like Pollini or in this case Michelangeli stripped that away. There is no prettiness, it’s in a sense an ugly beauty, to paraphrase Monk. One producer talked about Michelangeli having a baffling coldness to his playing, and that intrigues me, that coldness is almost like a white heat of interpretation, it goes so far, and it makes these pieces epigrammatic in a weird and stripped back way, and you then focus in on the materials and realize that some of them are deeply strange, very dark pieces. The Mazurka opus 68 n° 4, at the end bears the mark – well, not at the end, this is the point – da capo senza fine, it’s a conceptual piece before the event, it means go back to the top and just keep going ‘round, there is no end. It’s very odd, he’s out-Satied Satie, out- As Slow as Possible John Cage.

 Staying with the classical music, one of the record labels I collect is Supraphon. I love Czech music, am a Leoš Janáček junkie, and happily Supraphon made lots and lots of records and you can always find them very cheap. The Czech orchestras had an incredible sound, especially in the 1960s there was a very distinctive woodwind sound which is just perfect for the Czech repertoire. Janáček is a composer who I love because of his complete parcimony. He would repeat something doggedly without variation to hammer home the point, Roscoe Mitchell-style. There is no dressing up, no elaboration, it’s the pure distilled architecture of the music. And the album I have chosen is a Supraphon recording of “The Diary of One who Disappeared” , an extremely cryptic piece, a song cycle effectively. And it’s the version recorded in 1956 by Josef Páleníček on the piano and operatic tenor Beno Blachut and contralto Štěpánka Štěpánová. This music is an incredible mix of the extremes of expression. Janáček was a master of using the voice at its extremes to convey the emotions. Listen to the last song of this set, it’s a little like those moments where Curtis Mayfield disappears into the top of his falsetto, it’s got this expressionistic thing which is kind of reminiscent of Albert Ayler, and yet this same last song is basically constructed of three notes. It shows me how the music can be both extremely rigorous, cerebral and extremely expressionist or emotive. There is no distinction and there’s been this constant dichotomy in a lot of music criticism between the cerebral and the more heartfelt somehow. This distinction is not in my lexicon.

I mentioned Curtis Mayfield just then. How could anybody choose one Curtis Mayfield record? So, I’m torn. I would love to choose the album “Curtis” itself, a masterpiece of production. I’m obsessed with The Impressions; there’s one song called I loved and I lost [penned and produced by Mayfield on the “We’re a Winner” album] where I could write an essay about this one brass figure in the backing which I’m obsessed about. But forced to rescue one album from the flames, let me say “Curtis Live”, an amazing stripped back album played all there in the room. It’s like listening to Monk in a way, the economy of what’s going on. There’s not a single note which isn’t needed – apart from a bit of feedback on the recording which isn’t needed, but the economy of expression is incredible. The simplicity and directness with which Mayfield is able to convey things allied with his incredible subtlety and shading and inflection of every note. One of the things that people don’t talk about is that Curtis Mayfield is also one of the most incredible guitarists. There is an almost Brandon Ross-like ability to play the space as much as the sound. I love this record!

 Let me talk about Sonny Rollins. I am obsessed with Sonny Rollins, he pretty much fits into the musical DNA part of my listening alongside Tatum and Ellington and Parker and so on, but I feel I don’t talk about him as much as I would like to. So, I’m choosing “Volume 1” on Blue Note. It could have been any Rollins record frankly. Yes, even the ones from the 80s which people hate on a little bit, but I love them all almost unconditionally. Sonny Rollins is interesting to me conceptually when thinking about freedom in music, because you understand that freedom is related to your own sensitivities, proclivities, abilities. Nothing to me is more free than listening to Sonny Rollins play a million choruses on I got rhythm [actually Rollins’ composition Oleo based on chords from the Gershwin tune] . He has such facility that this endless flow of melody, you know when you listen to the Rollins recordings with Don Cherry at the Village Gate, it’s interesting because the so-called free improvisations kind of sound a little bit stilted to my ears, and the freest stuff is when he’s playing tunes. Other than conceptually, it’s his sound, we all have improvisers whom we feel are speaking to us, for me Rollins is that guy, he just plays and each note is at once the sound of surprise and of complete inevitability. His melodic/rhythmic flow, his humor, his kind of brawling sound quality is mind-blowing, but also, he can kill you with a ballad like How are things in Glocca Morra? on this record: classic Rollins, but not a tune that many people play.

I first heard Geri Allen when I was quite young and it would have been for sure on an album with Ornette Coleman. I loved it and I love almost anything she touches. But I discovered this interesting solo album, “Homegrown”[Minor Music, 1990], a little bit later. It was actually on one of those occasions when you hang around with friends and you’re blindfold-tested with something, and it was my friend Kaja Draksler, the incredible pianist, who played this record, and I did pick it was Geri. The album is like a Rosetta Stone, you hear it and suddenly you understand where basically almost anything that anyone is doing on the instrument today comes from. The music has a remarkable clarity of purpose and of concept in the way that Monk does, but also a – roughness is the wrong word with such accomplished playing but – a willingness to investigate the gritty spaces in between notes, the angular intervals, also a mix between this and the vernacular, you know, groove, she’s not afraid of groove, but also the ugly side of the music. You can tell about the way I’m not expressing myself massively clearly about this album the level with which I identify with it really. It’s difficult to articulate why but it’s magical. And it does provide an amazing way to understand what many contemporary pianists are doing. Geri was really prophetic in that sense.

Now let me pick one more record – Henry Threadgill’s “Too much sugar for a dime” [Axiom, 1993]. Threadgill is a musician whom these days I love unconditionally. Even when he does something that I’m unsure about, I’m so fascinated by it, I assume that it’s on me, that I don’t get something rather than he’s missed the target. When I first heard him, I didn’t get it. But it was magnetic, I was intrigued and gripped by it, partly because I’m gripped by music I don’t understand. I love to analyze and always try to understand music, and a certain point you get good at analyzing and understanding music, and when there’s something that I don’t get I’m intrigued because I want to know why. This is how it was when I first heard Threadgill, I think it was the Sextett and in it you can hear the legacy of small-group Ellington, you can hear Mingus in there, you can hear some of the harmonic language of Cecil Taylor ballad playing even, but I didn’t quite get what was going on. This sensation was only magnified when I came across the Very Very Circus group. On the one hand, it’s in-your-face and grooving like nothing else you ever heard, on the other hand there’s something otherworldly about the language, which you couldn’t mistake for anything else. There’s something distant and alien while at the same time it is urbane and banging, and this album bears this out. There’s a track featuring a Venezuelan percussionist where the Very Very Circus band is sort of spelled by this interlude of singing and traditional drumming, and it’s completely disorientating. You don’t really know how it works until the end of the song when the two elements come together quite brilliantly. I love musical puzzles that do that, that’s something that Bach and many other composers would do, it doesn’t make sense until the end when it’s glued together. And that is something which I love in a group like Ornette’s Prime Time, which I had a similar experience upon encountering that group as with Threadgill’s. On the one hand, I was attracted to it and intrigued, on the other hand I didn’t quite understand it, in spite of the fact it’s a mostly in-your-face funky thing which should make it accessible and does have that vernacular element, that kind of James Brown, P-Funk thing to it and yet this unbelievable weirdness. Back to Very Very Circus, I love it because it represents the music which I have to work out and spend time with to understand and get into the depth of it, and when you get there you then come to love it unconditionally. Have you read Threadgill’s biography which came out last year? You should, it’s a great one.

The list could go on and on and on, and that’s the beauty of it. I hope the chosen discs will give an entry window into my listening.

Further listening:

Alexander Hawkins on Intakt Records:

“Uproot” (quartet co-led by Elaine Mitchener, 2017)

“Iron into Wind (Pears from an Elm)” (2019)

“Shards and Constellations” with Tomeka Reid (2020)

“Togetherness Music” with Evan Parker + Riot Ensemble (2021)

“Soul in Plain Sight” with Angelika Niescier (2021)

“Mirror Canon” by the Break a Vase Sextet (2022)

“Carnival Celestial” with Neil Charles & Stephen Davis (2023)

“Musho” with Sofia Jernberg (2024)

Other selected releases:

“Guts & Strings” Ingebrigt Håker Flaten & Paal Nilssen-Love (Sonic Transmissions Records/PNL Records, 2023)

“At Earth School” with Nicole Mitchell (Astral Spirits, 2023)

“Fatrasies” with François Houle & Kate Gentile (Victo, 2024)

“You can't stand still” with Patrick Wolff & Louis Moholo-Moholo (Phenotypic Records, 2024)

“People” Roberto Ottaviano Eternal Love (Dodicilune, 2024)

Upcoming Live Dates:

Jazzfest Berlin, Oct. 31: Decoy with Joe McPhee, John Edwards and Steve Noble (Berliner Festspiele).

Jazzfest Berlin, Nov. 3: Musho with Sofia Jernberg (A-Trane)

Nov. 8 to 21: tour with Mulatu Astatke (Italy, France, Switzerland, Norway)

More info at: https://www.alexanderhawkinsmusic.com

John Butcher @ 70: Berlin Weekend

All photos (c) Cristina Marx/Photomusix

By Paul Acquaro (text) and Cristina Marx (photos)

In advance of his 70th birthday (October 25, 1954), British saxophonist John Butcher performed for three consecutive nights at the recently renovated experimental music space KM28 in Berlin's lively Neukölln district. The musical program featured six different configurations, with Butcher being the main connecting element, although his long history with the city certainly played a role as well.

Each night of the residency followed an intentional pattern. As Butcher explained, "I wanted each night to start with a duo. It's the most intimate situation for both the players and listeners and I like the clarity of intention one usually hears. Then the trios and quartet, which generate very different dynamics of interaction."

The series kicked off with Butcher and pianist Magda Mayas, who also was co-organizer of the event, who along with photographer Cristina Marx (whose photos are featured here) made the birthday concert residency a reality. Butcher and Mayas' performance, which, although they have played together in different combinations over many years, was their first as a duo. The set was captivating, built on fluttering and fleeting harmonics and overtones of Mayas' prepared piano and Butcher's unique musical language. 

All of the sets were unique, building on old and new collaborators, all drawing out different sides of Butcher's playing. Butcher further elaborated, "it was primarily based around my relationships with Berlin based musicians - some going back 25 years (Axel & Werner) - but adding Angharad (who herself has strong Berlin connections) and Xavier (so we could present The Contest of Pleasures - the one "regular" group). It principally involved musicians I had a history with, although it was the first time I'd played with Andrea and only the second with Emilio.

"The duo with Magda, the trio with Emilio & Liz, and the quartet were all first time combinations, " he continued, and "the duos with Angharad and Tony have been very occasional, perhaps 2 or 3 times."

The end result of all the arrangements was a musically rich event, with Butcher seemingly drawing on ever refreshing sources of inspiration and a very happy birthday party for all involved.

Thursday, Sept 12:

MAYAS & BUTCHER
Magda Mayas (piano) & John Butcher (saxophone)

 

THE CONTEST OF PLEASURES
Axel Dörner (trumpet), Xavier Charles (clarinet) & John Butcher (saxophone)

The Mayas and Butcher set was followed by a reconvening of a long standing "Contest of Pleasures" with trumpeter Axel Dorner and french clarinetist Xavier Charles. The trio's music was telepathic and episodic, one musician introducing an idea and the others quickly reacting to it, sometimes in harmony and other times with harsh dissonance. Extended techniques were plentiful, with the group employing many out of the ordinary approaches to playing their respective instruments.

Friday, Sept 13

BUCK & BUTCHER
Tony Buck (drums) & John Butcher (saxophone)

 

Opposite of the tonal experiments of the first night, the duo opened the night in a more rhythmically syncopated and melodically straight-forward way. Buck used each limb to play a different instrument (chimes, shaker, bells and bass drum) in interweaving times. Butcher followed his melodic muse, first on tenor sax and then on soprano, his freely improvised lines flowing around the polyrythmic percussion. Traces of his highly personal approach to the saxophone - fluttering, chirps, and resonant tones - adorned the music as the two barrelled through a short but complete set.

 

ALLBEE, GORDOA & BUTCHER
Liz Allbee (trumpet), Emilio Gordoa (vibraphone, percussion) & John Butcher (saxophone)

The trio began agitatedly, Gordoa furiously bowing a cymbal, Albee deepening her sound with a mute, and Butcher leaning into signiature multiphonics. Experimental playing, from a bowed beer can to blowing through the trumpet's spit-release valve, abounded as the trio tacitly followed and pulled the musical strands that connected them.

Saturday, Sept 14

 

DAVIES & BUTCHER
Angharad Davies (violin) & John Butcher (saxophone)  

The first set of the last evening began with saliva gurgling in the mouthpiece of the sax as an atonal melody slowly emerged from the violin. Then, the centrifugal forces formed from the circular intensity of Davies playing, which seemed to amplify Butcher's humming and vibrating melodies. Roles then reversed, but the musical tensions stayed strong until the end of this gripping set.

BUTCHER–NEUMANN–DAFELDECKER–BEINS
John Butcher (saxophone)
Andrea Neumann (piano, electronics)
Werner Dafeldecker (double bass, electronics)
Burkhard Beins (percussion)

The final set was with Polwechsel members Werner Dafeldecker and Burkhard Beins, along with Andrea Neumann. The quartet, a deep representation of the Echtzeit musik scene of Berlin (Neuman, Beins and Dafeldecker were all early participants) covered the sonic possibilities from extreme quiet to extended techniques (i.e. steel wool on drums) to train like chugging taking the group to energetic peaks.

Two Gems from Gordon Grdina

By Nick Ostrum

This is becoming a pattern on FJB. Gordon Grdina drops a few albums, and we cover them, usually with high praise. This review will continue in that trend.

Guitarist and oudist Grdina has become a singular voice over the years, whether as a solo artist or in various larger ensembles, whether performing his own compositions, those of Tim Berne and other composers, or just improvising. Although he is tirelessly active, he is deliberate about what he releases on his Attaboygirl Records. These tend to be albums, in the sense that they each are thoroughly inspired and, despite the improvisation, to drive toward singular overarching impressions.

Gordon Grdina’s The Marrow with Fathieh Honari (Attaboygirl Records, 2024) 

 

Dedicated to the late Persian-Canadian musician Reza Honari, The Marrow with Fathieh Honari is a case-in-point. Already with two releases under their belt, the core of The Marrow (Mark Helias, Hank Roberts, Hamin Honari (Reza Honari’s son), Grdina) have been at it for a almost a decade. Here, they are joined by the elder Honari’s wife Fathieh Honari on vocals.

It begins with a somber duet between Grdina, on oud for the entire album, and Fathieh Honari. Then come the drums (Hamin Honari) and Helias and Roberts’ strings, which transform the initial incantation into a processional jaunt with oud and cello doubling and Honari and Helias steadily driving from behind. Soloists briefly sprig out wispy tendrils, but the core remains tight. Fathieh rejoins and, as with Emad Armoush’s contributions to Grdina’s Arabic-inspired Haram ensemble, carries the project to a realm ethereal. Persian is beyond me, but that might just add to the mystery that The Marrowevokes. Indeed, when Fathieh ululates, she elicits tinges that go beyond the flesh and bone, to the marrow.

I am tempted to take that analogy further. In contrast to Duo Work (below), Marrow is based around a center, based on Middle Eastern scales and, presumably, song structures. It evokes the intangible: memory, sorrow, hope, fantasy (at least in its inscrutability to this listener), phantoms, and simply being. That is a tall order, but the shaken percussion that inaugurate the second selection, Raqib, the syncopated vamping of Break the Branch, the dreamy drone of Qalandar (which becomes genuinely joyful after the first two minutes), and the simultaneous fullness and fogginess captured in each of these pieces all speak to a state of meditation, either a deeply interior or out-of-body cognitive trip. Even in a succession of strong releases The Marrow with Fathieh Honari stands out. 

Gordon Grdina and Christian Lillinger – Duo Work (Attaboygirl Records, 2024)

Duo Work is another album in the sense of vision and coherence though, aesthetically, it is altogether different from The Marrow. None of Duo Work is composed (as far as I can tell) or calming, sentimental or mystical. Rather this is free-form fusion rock n’ roll noise, through and through.

The overwhelming impression I get from Duo Work(with Christian Lillinger with whom Grdina has worked in Square Peg and with Mat Maneri on Live at the Armory), is a delicious mix of late 60’s Frank Zappa (with more overdubbing and effects) and late career Sonny Sharrock pared down to a duo format with a drummer miraculous endowed with an extra arm or two. All the things one loves about Lillinger are here: his unassailable precision, his unique sense of rhythm within rhythm within rhythm, his strangely alluring time-keeping, his big sound. From Grdina, one hears his precision (of course!) but also his apparent roots in the more experimental reaches of fusion. This is Interstellar Space for guitar and drums, segmented, stripped of the modal celestial appeals and strewn about with a playful urgency of John Zorn’s early crossovers into metal and grindcore. Or maybe it’s a truncated Shut Up and Play Yer Guitar, cut, glitched, modernized, and performed all at once by a band of two. Either way, it is one of the most exciting releases I have heard all year.

I am not sure which, but at least one of these albums is going to be on my year-end list.

 

The Necks - Bleed (Northern Spy, 2024)

By Paul Acquaro

You must not skip ahead to minute 39:30 of Bleed. Let it build, or rather, let it kind of sizzle expectantly until the aforementioned, sublime final three minutes. These closing moments, where guitar, piano and bass truly meet in total agreement is something you need to earn. The ideas are simple, notes from the guitar's middle register ring out singularly, though sometimes overlapping, while the piano plays a slow sequence of bright open-ended chords and the bass lays down sparse deliberate anchoring tones.

In some magical convergence, this final passage draws the 39 minutes and 30 seconds of music that leads up to it to a logical finale. Until this, the music has been trickling slowly, like gentle drops of water dripping from craggy rock formations in a subterranean cavern, sometimes collecting into streams, but mostly single drips of sound. Tony Buck's drums offer ephemeral statements, and his guitar playing injects new textures. Chris Abrahams' piano, generally the source of the drip, leaks single, pure notes to the cave floor, which form into small, reflecting pools, while Lloyd Swanton's bass vibrates throughout, generating ripples in the surface tension.

It takes time, as music from the Necks typically does, to form. In fact, those three shimmering final moments are the second most 'formed' that Bleed contains. However, this formless structure is absolutely absorbing. Do not jump to minute 14:30 either, where the percussion wells between the layers of trickling piano and the bass sways pendulously. Definitely make sure, too, that you do not start listening at the 20 minute mark when inquisitive arpeggios from the piano are punctuated by the bass, seeming to be announcing the discovery of a new musical vein, which they may (or may not) reach eight minutes later with Buck's help. No, Bleed is a single piece, meditative and beautiful, quietly demanding that you hear the natural beauty in both the notes and the overtones.