While fans of Thumbscrew have had plenty of opportunity to hear Mary Halvorson, Michael Formanek, and Tomas Fujiwara play together since the group’s 2014 debut, there seems to be something special about the music that arises from this particular trio setting. Perhaps the fruits of those other excursions—Fujiwara’s The Hook Up, Formanek’s Ensemble Kolossus—are distilled in this intimate context, where each musician has the space to contribute equally and which affords them the flexibility to play with the boundaries between jazz and rock, melody and noise, structure and openness. Likewise on Convallaria, developed during a two-week BNY Mellon Jazz Residency at Pittsburgh’s City of Asylum, Thumbscrew manages not only to bring us what we expect from them but also to push forward into new territory.
Halvorson notes that the album’s namesake flower is both “sweetly scented and highly poisonous… a good description of Thumbscrew.” Indeed on “Cleome,” which opens Convallaria, a gentle stop-start introduction wholly belies the distorted mayhem you’ll hear if you skip to the middle of the track—though of course the magic is in the architecture of that bait-and-switch deception, not in the extremes themselves. “The Cardinal and the Weathervane” works this way too, pivoting suddenly at the two-minute mark from a mellow, wistful melody to a bombastic heavy metal riff. The title track manages to blend light and dark at the same time with its arpeggiated theme: simple, steady, and almost familiar but not quite, tinged as it is with sour harmonies and stuttering rhythms.
As for pure “poison”… a pair of tracks from the middle of the album stand out. “Trigger” is a haunting piece. After a long bass introduction, malleted drums and crumbling guitar augment the eerie atmosphere. Unlike most Thumbscrew compositions, a stable rhythm never quite comes together, leaving the elements in suspension. Then comes “Screaming Piha,” named after a South American bird. Droning and noisy, this one’s a favorite of mine in part because of the way it suggests the discovery of a new species in Halvorson’s and Thumbscrew’s ecosystem of sound. Convallaria is more than enough to tide us over while we wait to see where the group will go next.
It’s always a delight to hear a new release from Thumbscrew, the “supertrio” comprised of guitarist Mary Halvorson, bassist Michael Formanek and drummer Tomas Fujiwara. In this case, there are two additional reasons for celebration. First, it’s a double release for the group, with Ours presenting nine pieces of the band’s own material, while Theirs is an idiosyncratic collection of covers; and second, the release represents the return of Cuneiform Records, a vital label for creative music that went on a brief hiatus for the first half of 2018 to retool for the future.
Thumbscrew – Ours (Cuneiform, 2018) ****
Much of the value in hearing these three musicians as a trio is that it puts the emphasis squarely on their identities as musicians rather than as composers. Lately all three have been utilizing larger ensembles as a vehicle to showcase their compositions: Halvorson’s septet and octet releases (2013’s Illusionary Sea and 2016’s Away With You, respectively) have demonstrated the multihued complexity of her role as a writer, and this year’s Code Girl is no different, as even her quintet on that record sounds like a much bigger band, with diverse textures and harmonic intricacies galore. Meanwhile, Fujiwara’s Triple Double, one of 2017’s highlights, was a similar effort to try out a wider range of instrumental voices and compositional strategies; and the name of Formanek’s own Ensemble Kolossus speaks for itself when it comes to the large-scale impact of his own ambitious vision. It’s nice, then, to be reminded of what these three exceptional musicians can do with a somewhat smaller canvas.
Ours gets off to a thrilling start with “Snarling Joys,” a trademark Halvorson composition built around an insinuating melody that both Formanek and Halvorson toy with throughout the piece, while Fujiwara’s crisp snare work drives the track irresistibly. Halvorson is in superb form here, with precise, fast-paced lines and her characteristically oblique refractions. Fujiwara’s “Saturn Way” relies a bit more on indirection, with a less immediately obvious melody and more room for space and indeterminacy to emerge, especially with Formanek’s arco in dialogue with Halvorson’s abstract musings. Then Formanek’s “Cruel Heartless Bastards” takes things down a rock-inflected path, with some hard-hitting chords and a churning beat that pivots between different meters. It’s quite a burst of creativity for the first three cuts, and yet while each piece has a dramatically different character, they all possess the commonality that makes these songs immediately recognizable as Thumbscrew; the collective identity of the trio is always firmly in place.
The rest of the album provides similarly interesting moments, whether on “Smoketree,” a charming folk-like melody that takes an ominous turn, or “Words that Rhyme with Spangle,” a relentless, free-ranging piece that somehow stays together despite its rhythmic and thematic complexity. What makes each of the tracks so riveting is the sense of surprise that enlivens each of them: the trio can and will turn on a dime to head off in a completely different, yet logically plausible, direction. Nowhere is this more evident than on Halvorson’s “Thumbprint,” where a loping, seemingly innocuous figure eventually opens into a semi-martial cadence under Fujiwara’s guidance, and Formanek’s nimble interjections take the energy to another level altogether, eventually blazing a trail into the unknown with rapid-fire phrases that spool out in dizzying intensity.
With nine pieces filled with intrigue and complexity, and the trio’s near-telepathic rapport, Ours is perfect in giving these three ambitious musicians a chance to scale things down. The intimacy allowed by the trio format showcases the close connection they have forged in years of working together.
Thumbscrew – Theirs (Cuneiform, 2018) ***½
Perhaps it isn’t fair to evaluate Theirs alongside its companion album, as Ours is so strong that it sets an unrealistically high bar to clear, particularly since this isn’t a trio that has specialized in playing covers. But even so, it’s a tantalizing glimpse at how the Thumbscrew logic can be applied to an interesting mix of other material. With songs ranging from jazz staples (Brooks Bowman’s “East of the Sun,” Wayne Shorter’s “Dance Cadaverous”) to more unusual choices (Evelyn Danzig’s “Scarlet Ribbons,” Julio De Caro’s “Buen Amigo”), the trio proves that nothing’s off-limits. From the first few notes of Benny Golson’s “Stablemates,” the album’s opener, Halvorson’s heavily-processed guitar lets the listener know right away that this won’t be a repertory endeavor. There’s substantial creativity here, whether through Halvorson’s swerves, Formanek’s careful balancing of swing and freedom, or Fujiwara’s restless inventiveness.
Yet when the trio performs “Benzinho,” Brazilian songwriter Jacob do Bandolim’s infectious choro tune, the group stays perhaps too true to the original to allow its idiosyncrasies to come fully to the fore. Sure, Halvorson’s solo is engaging, with all those Halvorsonian bent notes—there’s no mistaking who’s playing here. But Formanek and Fujiwara play it relatively straight, leaving one to wonder how things might go if they opened the piece to the kind of creative detours found in such abundance on Ours. The same goes for “Scarlet Ribbons”: the reverence the group displays for the tune is laudable, but there’s not quite enough “there” there to justify many repeated listenings. The running length of the tunes on Theirs also tends to be briefer, suggesting that the trio wasn’t always sure they wanted to release the shackles and take more chances. Meatier fare like Shorter’s “Dance Cadaverous,” on the other hand, are much more in the group’s wheelhouse, as Shorter’s own oblique vision dovetails much more compatibly with the trio’s own disposition. Here the sense of open-ended mystery possessed by the original is articulated enticingly, and it’s a powerful display of improvisatory prowess. Perhaps more unexpectedly, the same goes for “East of the Sun,” which has all the off-kilter craftiness we associate with these three musicians, with only the barest hint of the melody emerging fleetingly amidst a creative maelstrom. But those are the exception to the rule, as otherwise even strong material like Herbie Nichols’s “House Party Starting” tends to be governed by a relatively staid sensibility. And while the trio never mails it in—these are always engaged and focused treatments, with fine musicianship—one can be forgiven, perhaps, for wanting to hear a bit more of the group’s unique “stamp” on them.
It’s worth emphasizing that while most readers of this blog will find Ours the more valuable of the two releases, both are worth having. Even Theirs, although it feels more like a tentative path than an arrived-at destination, points the way toward possibilities the group may pursue even more convincingly down the road in investigating classic repertoire with its hallmark cleverness and intrepid spirit of adventure.
For Braxton's 75th birthday, Thumbscrew was invited to the Tri-Centric
Foundation’s Braxton archives over an afternoon to explore
compositions, primarily early rarely played pieces, that would fit a
guitar/bass/drums or newly added vibes (Tomas Fujiwara was late getting
to the composition selection meeting and some had already been selected
with three melody lines) lineup. All three members have played with
Anthony previously, ranging from Mary Halvorson’s appearance on
recordings spanning ten years to Fujiwara being on three recordings to
Michael Formanek being second bassist on a Knitting Factory multimedia
production. So all were familiar with Braxtonian notations and made
insightful decisions on how each piece could adapt to the Thumbscrew
imprimatur. Carl Testa, director of publishing for Tri-Centric,
assisted the trio and further pointed out that Braxton gives
interpreters free rein regarding tempos and dynamic ranges, and that
instrumental parts are changeable. From there it was off to a four week
Pittsburgh residency to arrange these as well as developing other
compositions for further projects.
Although the focus was to be on lesser known works, the opening
“Composition No. 52” first appeared on a 1982 Antilles Braxton release
with Anthony Davis, Mark Helias and Ed Blackwell entitled Six Compositions:
Quartet and on subsequent live recordings by the
Crispell/Dresser/Hemingway quartet; so some listeners might be familiar
with this. If so they'll find a more relaxed and swinging tempo here,
with Halvorson playing more fluid lead lines than early Braxton’s alto
supersaturated note explosions which, admittedly, for me was part of
the charm. Also they use ritards on alternating measures in the B
section. Two versions of “Composition No. 157” appeared on Duets,
Hamburg 1991 on Music & Arts with bassist Peter N. Wilson, much of
which is a repeated 8 note pattern on sopranino over which the bassist
improvises before some structured interplay briefly interrupts the
pattern over a seven to nine minute duration. Thumbscrew’s shorter
version loosely hints at the eight note pattern while interjecting
their own disjointed counterpoint in a refreshingly brief exploration
with Fujiwara’s drumming being particularly energized by the basketball
graphic title.
The Thumbscrew adaptation process is well illustrated on the final
piece, “Composition No. 79”, originally scored for a piano, bass
clarinet and trombone as a tribute to the Southwest territory bands of
the 30s, specifically Count Basie in Kansas City. Formanek takes the
piano’s walking bass line as a foundation, over which Halvorson's badass dissonant chords suggest taking it even further southwest to
Bob Wills electric Texas Swing bands. Then Tomas enters the mix on
vibes and plays unison lines with Mary while the bass maintains the
rhythm. It's a joyful song throughout all subsequent twists and turns,
including Fujiwara switching to drums and back, surely capturing the
composer’s intentions. A more open ended composition such as
“Composition No. 14” is based on a graphic score of geometric shapes
from which each member has a solo performance whereby their
interpretation is documented in three very different first takes.
Slightly more structured was “Composition No. 35” which was made up of
cardboard pieces with notes on them along with composition notes
specifying an order without identifying which piece was which. The
group spent a lot of time deciphering that and the end result sounds
much more coherent than it would have in the custody of less
accomplished musicians.
This album grew on me through successive listens. It's impossible for
any listener of Braxton to approach something of this nature without
preconceived expectations; in my case the early Aristas through
Crispell/Dresser/Hemingway, particularly featuring Braxton's saxophone.
So my initial reaction was it sounded bloodlessly analytic. But through
subsequent listens it became more interesting as repetition revealed
just how well the trio intricately adapted the compositions to their
format while still maintaining a Braxtonian identity. It's too bad that
public health concerns haven't allowed touring in support of this
release because performing songs repetitively during a tight timeframe
creates opportunities for further development. Lacking that for now,
I'm sure the composer is pleased with these interpretations.
For the second installment of guitar week, I am excited to be sharing some thoughts on recent releases from two great guitarists (oh hell, they're all great). From these two artists, the blog has most recently reviewed Raoul Bjorkenheim's Scorch Trio and Mary Halvorson's Ghost Loops...
By Paul Acquaro Mary Halvorson, Michael Formanek, Tomas Fujiwara- Thumbscrew (Cuneiform, 2014) ****
This trio, comprised of guitarist Mary Halvorson, bassist Michael Formanek, and drummer Tomas Fujiwara is real treat. Like on Halvorson's recent Ghost Loops, the trio format gives the guitarist's unusual chord voicing and intervallic leaps a big space to fill up. The group is tight, and as far out as they may go, they lock together tightly and deliver some exceptional music.
The opener "Cheap Knock Off" sets the stage with a lyrical opening passage and within five minutes, builds to a full throated roar. Fujiwara and Formanek create a strong foundation upon which the Halvorson builds a structure, and then proceeds to burn it down. The smarmily named "iThumbscrew" begins as a rhythmic exercise, the guitar connecting with drum's deep pockets with an arpeggiated melody. Fujiwara's drums playfully responds to Halvorson's more squirrely musical moments and deftly supporting the more muscular ones. "Fluid Hills in Pink" shows Halvorson's more subdued side, and places Fujiwara and Formanek in the spotlight for an extended and slightly mysterious sounding duet. Skipping ahead, the track "Still … Doesn't Swing" actually seems to swing as much as the other tracks. Generally, the tracks seem to be built off of composed frameworks with plenty of room for making it up as they go along, however, this one in particular, breaks down into down into some incredibly heated improvisation, with Halvorson pulling out all sorts of effects while the rhythm section digging into some deep syncopations.
Thumbscrew is a great trio, highly listenable and lyrical, but does not shy away from the tough stuff.
The eCsTaSy trio is a new all Finnish group from guitarist Raoul Bjorkenheim. This new group encompasses the fire of the Scorch Trio and improvisational power of the Kalabalik Trio with some of the orchestral vision of the UMO Orchestra's Primal Mind. Comprised of saxophonist Pauli Lyytinen, bassist Jori Huhtala and drummerMarkku Ounaskari, it's not quite the size of an orchestra but the guitarist's compositions and arrangements think expansively.
First track, "El Pueblo Unido" kicks things off in a soaring fashion. The guitarists biting tone is big and rises above the rhythm section in a tradition that I would liken to Terje Rypdal's more rock oriented output. The arrangement makes the quartet sound quite full. The next track "SOS" is festooned with groove - the soprano sax juxtaposed with Bjorkenheim's low end riffs and rapid fire unison lines beautifully frame the fiery solos - especially from upright bassist Huhtala. "As Luck Would Have It" eventually turns into another barnburner, with Huhtala taking an extended solo and Bjorkenheim and Lyyntinen delivering complex intertwining melodies. Other textures and free-playing take over in "Threshold", which reminds me of the atmospheric fusion of early Weather Report.
It's great to hear Bjorkenheim, who has been delivering some excellent power trio based recordings, add some additional sonic elements. Each piece seems carefully composed to get the most out the instruments, but leaves plenty of room for the musicians to stretch out.
We listen to music for many reasons: to relax, for inspiration, to connect
to feelings both held deeply within and shared among others—the reasons are
manifold. The critically-praised works of Thumbscrew have offered
satisfaction in all these ways and more, and they continue to build on
their impressive oeuvre with a sixth album of all-original compositions
titled Never Is Enough. A widely-revered trio of diverse artistic
statements and virtuosic playing, drummer Tomas Fujiwara, bassist Michael
Formanek, and guitarist Mary Halvorson each contribute three pieces to this
album, recorded during the same sessions that resulted in their brilliant
tribute The Anthony Braxton Project (Cuneiform Records, 2020).
Fujiwara’s “Camp Easy” begins the album by conjuring visions of strolling
through a grassy meadow, but with a kind of wobbly giddiness imparted by
Halvorson’s signature slippery sound. The rhythm has a lumbering
propulsion, and folksy melodies feel like warm sunlight on your face. The
second track, composed by Halvorson, takes us into driving rock territory,
delightfully askew with discordant harmonies from the guitar and a melodic
line anthemically declared by Formanek’s electric bass. His excellent
double bass playing is frequently featured on this project through inspired
soloing, sound mixing that puts his instrument prominent and clear, and the
judicious use of electric bass on a couple tracks widens his sonic palette
in service of the song. A mesmerizing example of the latter is his brooding
composition “Scam Likely,” which has us drifting in an extra-terrestrial
sonic drone, sparsely punctuated by sundry percussive taps and textures
from the masterful Fujiwara. When Halvorson enters with chiming notes that
announce and uplift, the percussion gradually combusts before the song
eventually returns to the hazy electric space from which it arose.
Never Is Enough
can be challenging in all the satisfying ways that devotees of creative
music crave, but its occasional touchpoints in rock’s rhythm and structures
will give it an appeal to a wider audience. This music is beautifully
communal, with each member equally sharing their unique voice to create an
artistic statement that indeed may never be enough.
I was surprised to see that we had not reviewed these gems, but not
surprised to see that I was the one who’d promised to review them. Mea maxima culpa. There’s tons of music I’ve not reviewed this
year, but only these three have I been listening to with incessant
fascination. I think I have been reluctant to wrap my thoughts around them.
One of the joys of This Kind of Music is the way it can evoke things
without having to articulate them. Sometimes, in a review, I find myself
trying to articulate things, and thereby diminishing them. Perhaps I’m over
thinking this.
Nate Wooley - Ancient Songs of Burlap Heroes (Pyroclastic Records 2022)
Wooley sets his theme in the accompanying text. His own words:
This album is dedicated to those who recognize living as a heroic act:
the occupiers of sunup barstools; the cubicle-planted; the ghosts of
Greyhounds; the reasonably sketchy. A burlap hero is one who
marches—consciously or not—back to the sea in hopes of making no
splash, who understands and embraces the imperfection of being, and in
that way, stretches the definition of sainthood to fit.
Wooley and crew—himself, trumpet; Susan Alcorn pedal steel; Mary Halvorson,
guitar; Ryan Sawyer, drums; Trevor Dunn, bass on track 4; Mat Maneri, viola
track 2—present us with what I’m interpreting as three movements. These are
punctuated (beginning, middle, and end) with transitions named as extended
ellipses (……………), or they could be many many periods.
Wooley celebrates quotidian heroism as Homeric. Beginning and ending at the
sea, with a “catastrophic legend” at the center. This is earnest music,
without an ounce of irony, evoking the sea in all of its dark, menacing,
comforting, brooding power. The structure of the legend is such that the
voices build slowly, layering chronically, and finally break loose.
Wooley’s trumpet is anthemically clear at points. Halvorson and Alcorn are
uncannily good, woven throughout like indispensable threads.
Julie Tippetts and Martin Archer - Illusion (Discus 2022)
Every track on this long two CD set is immediately discernible as great and
engaging, but the sprawling majesty of the two suites is something that
reveals itself over ime. In those moments when I stop thinking
about what I want to listen to, and start feelingbehaving what I
want to listen to I have been reaching for Illusion.
There’s an abundant creativity to the lyricism, here. So many ideas come
out so effortlessly. It’s like a Jack Kirby drawing, bursting with intrigue
and spectacle. Everything Tippetts is great at is encompassed here, couched
in British free jazz progressive music, art song, aleatoric music,
electronica, and the sort of singer/songwriter eccentricity that led to
Joni Mitchell or Robin Holcomb. Tippett’s, among other things, is an
extraordinarily facile vocalist.
“Circle of Whispers” is a set of contrasting smaller pieces, illuminating
each other in relief. “Illusion” is a genuine suite, seven parts of
continuous music. The ensembles are recombinated into various small groups,
and the overall structure is guided by chance procedures. The mixture of
intent and emergence is striking.
Mike Formanek is the kind of the freebop hard swinging, hip walking, “goin’
down the street and passing out wolf tickets” kind of bass line, and I
don’t even know if it’s close. That’s the vibe this disc starts on, and it
proceeds as it begins. If there’s a story here, it’s kind of dark and also
funny.
Thumbscrew is Formanek, Mary Halvorson (guitar), and Tomas Fujiwara (drums,
vibes). They ran into each other by accident seven albums ago and have been
a genuinely cooperative trio ever since. They share composing duties, and
cover a wide repertoire of “others” work. 2020’s Anthony Braxton Project pretty much destroyed me. The shifting
relationships and pairings mean every player is rhythm and lead, in turns
and simultaneously.
Multicolored Midnight
features eleven originals, varying levels of composition and improvisation.
Mary Halvorson’s guitar again shines. Between this and the Nate Wooley I
just talked about—and every other thing she’s done this year—would make her
my free jazz MVP, if we had such a thing. Fuliwara’s drums are fleet and
unexpected, but his vibes really stick out, for me. I’m actually obsessed
with his vibes.
It was only a matter of time for this group, with Mary Halv orson and Tim Berne, to happen. Before they all appeared on Formanek'sEnsemble Kolossus release, they'd had their fingers in each other's recorded pies. Formanek and Berne have worked since Bloodcount in the 90s, and the bassist and Halvorson make up two thirds of Thumbscrew. Berne has worked in small groups with Bill Frisell, Nels Cline and Marc Ducret so the genre bending Mary should be an intriguing guitar foil for his insistently probing syncopated lines. Also it's almost impossible to imagine their paths having never crossed in venues like The Stone or at festivals. So clearing busy schedules with other working groups led to this.
I was fully expecting to like this just fine for an initial statement from three musicians I enjoy, while still wanting it to have the more-than-the-sum-of-the-parts synergy that comes from extended interplay as a working group. This disc is truly Even Better than that; a fully mature sounding statement as a collective entity. Formanek composed all the pieces, except for Scott LaFaro's "Jade Visions" closing cut, surely with knowledge of how the lines would sound as played by the other two. And how each has the ability to maintain the rhythm in a drumless trio giving free rein for the others to venture hither and yon while veering away from a chaotic mess.
Things get off to a rousing start on "Suckerpunch" with Formanek and Halvorson playing a stop and go syncopated uptempo line before Berne enters with a slower counter melody which Mary joins up with before they go their separate ways, none stating the original motif but not straying completely away from it either, before ending it with a satisfying return. "Two Pillars" might refer to the saxophonist and guitarist framing the opening with parallel long tones. Berne has long had a haunting tone effectively employed on slower tempos and in this setting it's nicely augmented by the guitar through parallel fragile clear notes, or smeared with delays or shimmering reverb laden chords.
But kudos to the nominal leader (there's no "apostrophe s" as his group, per se, but he's obviously top billed) for these compositions enabling a blending of distinct talents while ebulliently holding up his end on bass. I've been a fan of Formanek for around thirty years but lately he seems to have reached a new plateau. In the last year and a half I saw him with Thumbscrew and a duet with his son, Peter; in both settings his bass was more aggressively out front, in a good way, than I'd previously recalled. But seeing the Elusion Quartet with Tony Malaby, Kris Davis and Ches Smith, where they transformed the compositions on their disc into something different and better, was the real stunner. Hopefully the Very Practical Trio can find time to tour and try to do something similar to this already very enjoyable release.
Shane Parish. Photo Petra Cvelbar РGulbenkian M̼sica
Alone in front of a large audience, looking even more relaxed than the previous evening, Shane Parish tunes his acoustic guitar. He begins with Ornette Coleman’s « Lonely Woman » which also opens the album Repertoire. The performance differs from the album version, in the way the theme is stated and where the accents are placed. Most of the pieces last around three minutes, sometimes less than two ; a couple are developed at greater length. The fingers sliding on the metal strings are very noticeable in the sound spectrum, to the point that they become part of the music. Parish’s style is crystal-clear, mostly without effects, except for two specific pieces. He has a consummate sense of pace, and a keen knack for audio storytelling. Each cover has a mood of its own, from the English ballad « She Moves Through the Fair » to Alice Coltrane's « Ptah the El-Daoud » which isn't on the album – a welcome surprise! The composition is stripped down to its basic shape and melody, without embellishments. The instinctive and elastic handling of dynamics reminds of blues players. Disarmingly simple tunes are intertwined with others more demanding for both player and listeners. Interpretations of Alice Coltrane’s « Journey in Satchidananda » (enriched with oriental ornaments, suiting the atmosphere of the original), Charles Mingus's « Pithecanthropus erectus », « It's you I like » by Fred Rogers, « Serenade to a cuckoo » by Roland Kirk, all make sense. Some tracks ask for a special tuning or detuning of the guitar. A standing ovation rewards the artist. As an encore he chooses « I'm going away », a fitting title to end a show with, in the Americana vein. We’re not getting Sun Ra’s twisted « Lights on a satellite » that closes the album. A pleasant aspect is the absence of style hierarchies, each composition chosen for a reason, whether it’s a melodic line that just sounds good, or a flexible blueprint that Parish sculpts as he sees fit.
Thumbscrew. Photo Petra Cvelbar РGulbenkian M̼sica
It’s been a hot day, especially for musicians having a soundcheck outdoors in the middle of the afternoon, and bass player Michael Formanek, now of the Lisbon scene, appears focused on the scores. His partners are similarly absorbed. No introductory talk, no attempt at a connection with the audience, no presentation of the material. Only music, until the "end credits". The compositions are shared between members of the group (each one a leader of other projects, and frequent allies in those), yet the sound is cohesive and belongs to Thumbscrew. Much of the same material as heard at Hamburg’s Elbphilharmonie in the winter (as part of the Marc Ribot-curated Reflektor weekend) is performed, but it doesn’t feel like a repeat. Not because the season and location are different, but because the compositions are played differently, a clue as to the trio’s modus operandi which is to push the music ever forward, with contempt for routine. We’re talking about some of the most endlessly inventive and skilled musicians of our time. After some guitar loops from Mary Halvorson, we get into the melodies (unorthodox as they may be) and forms. The pedal-triggered sound warps and varied techniques of Halvorson add an extra layer of challenge for listeners to grasp the already oddly organized contours. Drummer Tomas Fujiwara plays vibraphone on some pieces, changing the color of the trio in the process. Stellar solos are set to equally astute accompaniment. A fiery drums and guitar duo brings us onto unexpected noise territory. Each new piece proves equally surprising, no small feat for a jazz trio.
Elias Stemeseder. Photo Petra Cvelbar РGulbenkian M̼sica
In the Grand Auditorium, more incredibleness awaits with the Austrian-German duet of Elias Stemeseder (harpsichord, p, elec), Christian Lillinger (dm) and a key third man in sound engineer Marco Pulidori to support and maybe expand on their album Antumbra. The venue is in complete darkness except for the stage. Strobing lights and projected abstractions prevent from taking notes ; all that’s left to do is to enjoy the trip. And a trip it is. The lighting and cyclorama projections make players and instruments in turn disappear and reappear in quick flashes. The visuals, courtesy of Lillinger, are made of vertical stripes, squares and other eye-confusing devices that would make Maurits Cornelis Escher proud. This is a dizzying, loss of orientation-inducing work. Are we in outer space or, on the contrary, hearing through a microscope ? How the duo can perform such uncommon and kinetic music is a challenge to understanding. Their working methods are opaque but it’s obvious that the achievement rests on their close relationship and agreement as much on their individual skills. Through a wide array of trebly keyboards and synths, and an innovative use of the drums, they have created a musical design of their own, which will be hard to imitate. Even their acoustic playing doesn’t sound of this world. Stemeseder explains : « We have six compositions, with possibilities to move things around ». Lillinger’s playing has a precision, coldness and rigidity that serves the duo’s purpose. He’s the Man-Machine, and technology struggles to keep up with him. When the curtains open to reveal the greenery behind the stage, we're stunned to see it's still daytime, having lost track of time, wrapped in the duo's galactic soundworld.
Patricia Brennan Septet. Photo Petra Cvelbar РGulbenkian M̼sica
And now for something completely different. Yet, with some minimal digging, connections can be found. Both Mark Shim (ts) and Adam O’Farrill (tp) have taken part in the Stemeseder-Lillinger universe, the first one on the Antumbra album, the second in a live performance by the duo at the Bezau Beatz festival a couple of days before the Lisbon date. For her first tour as a leader in Europe and oozing more energy than Tesla, Vera Cruz-born Patricia Brennan (rippling vibraphone with electronics) leads a septet of six men plus herself. The line-up is the same as on the lauded Breaking Stretch album, except for Dan Weiss on drums (replacing Marcus Gilmore) and Cuba’s Keisel Jimenez on percussions (that include sacred bata drums) instead of Mauricio Herrera. Kim Cass on bass and the ubiquitous Jon Irabagon (alto & sopranino saxophones) round out the group. Brennan’s latin-jazz isn’t necessarily avant-garde, but her drive and jubilant arrangements are hard to resist and the players are solid gold. The leader’s mallets double as conductor’s batons.
This is for the most part percussion-heavy, hot, danceable music. The front line of horns play unisons and entwined lines on top of the rhythm workouts. A piece is nostalgia-tinged but still dynamic. « Earendel – the Morning Star » refers to Brennan’s passion for astronomy, the main source of inspiration for her next album, Of the Near and Far. On tenor, Shim seems to channel the ghost of Joe Henderson, which should come as no surprise since Shim’s early albums included covers of 1960s Blue Note tunes by Henderson and other young giants of the era. After a few days of brain-boggling music, this was the feasty ending we needed.
The Haus der Berliner Festspiele is a mid-century modern split-level architectural gem and it is more than a stones throw away from the typical environs for Berlin experimental jazz, like the scrappy Soweiso or Donau115, or even the slick Radial System V, host to the annual A'Larme Festival. But for a long weekend this month the Jazzfest Berlin successfully transformed the posh address into a destination for daring music.
It was fantastic mix and mash of media and personalities: at the opening night concert there was a cyclops playing a triangle, a kiosk where you could mash up your own music, a woman poised with a translucent globe out on the front lawn, and more music than one could possibly hear. The festival spread itself out both physically into the neighborhood and thematically, including a focus on Chicago and Europe, an artist in residence from New York City, as well as panel discussions on various topics. But first and foremost, the festival positioned itself in opposition to the forces that are fast at work pulling apart the post-war order that we have relied on for 70 years. Opening the festival was a speech by Dr. Bonaventure Soh Bejeng Ndikung, who is, according to his bio, an independent curator, art critic, author and biotechnologist, and whom attempted to answer how in fact can jazz can actually be poised to 'do' something.
"We are caught up in these dire moments, gripped in the claws of the extreme political and socio-economic exigencies of our times … Times in which the shift to the extreme right, the resurrection of proto-fascism, the fortification of authoritarianism is no longer just a fear of something to come, but a reality— as we witness racists, misogynists, xenophobes and neo-liberals democratically elected in the USA, Brazil, Italy, Poland, India, England or Cameroon, and the rise of far-right political movements in Germany or England." I'm now paraphrasing terribly, but in times of such stress, Ndikung explained, people create visions of Utopias. Jazz, he suggested, could help people imagine how it could be, and in doing so, provide a space to share vulnerabilities, a place to regroup and galvanize their forces (read it here). It was a provocative talk and provided a context for the festival - where it was possible to immerse oneself in a musical utopia and share in a day long " 360° Multi-channel Installation / Live Processing Installation & Happening/Party" with the aforementioned cyclops, visit panel talks like "Afrofuturismus & Empowerment", and take a walk through the neighborhood and hear intimate concerts at a hair dresser and someone's living room.
Fittingly, the speech was followed by flutist Nicole Mitchell's Black Earth Ensemble playing the music from her "Madolra Awakenings II" album, which itself is a soundtrack to a story of a not so unimaginable future in which a technically sophisticated egalitarian society - the last place untainted by pollution, corruption, famine, and war - exits isolated on an island. Mitchell kicked off the concert by poking at the screen of her iPod. This was soon followed by a percussive groove colored by the bassoon and splashes of guitar. As the tempo picked up, Mitchell joined in on her flute, playing along with exotic trills from the wooden flute. The loose groove ended in a pregnant pause and then was slowly revived by the shamisen (a Chinese stringed instrument) and the crystalline plucks of the harp. The role of the iPod also became clear as electronic noises appeared, sometimes helping, sometimes clashing, with the musicians. After alternating sections of light hummable melodies, deep pocketed rhythms, and open exploration, vocalist Avery R. Young joined. His speaking/singing parts layered on other meanings and were tinged with gospel accents and invocations, climaxing by declaring "we're just doing the same thing over and over again."
Thumbscrew
By the time the final song ended, I had already absconded upstairs to the upper foyer where the trio Thumbscrew - guitarist Mary Halvorson (the festival's artist in residence), drummer Tomas Fujiwara, and bassist Michael Formanek - were set up and ready to hit, which they did when the applause from the main hall subsided. Dressed sleek in black and grey, and poised stylishly against the stone walls, the group dug onto their complex compositions, beginning with "Snarling Joys" off of their recent album 'Ours'. A glitch with Formanek's bass pick-up introduced a bit of extra drama while Halvorson's patented pitch bends, coupled with reverse loops, provided even more urgency to the tunes. In fact, her solo seemed to have an extra edge to it, perhaps in reaction to the bassist's growing frustration with the equipment. The chemistry between the musicians was obvious, and the devilish lines and sophisticated arrangements of the tunes shined through effortlessly. About halfway through the set, sound problems addressed, Formanek dedicated the set to city of Pittsburgh which had just suffered a horrific, racist mass shooting in a Synagogue. They followed with a melancholic and beautiful song featuring an impassioned solo by the bassist.
Trio Heinz Herbert
Tough choices followed, as competing concerts were scheduled on opposite sides of the venue. I chose the Swedish group, Trio Heinz Herbert, who have just released a live album on Intakt records. The shaggy trio's psychedelic pastiche of space sounds, rock oriented explosions, and acoustic/electronic sonic textures was captivating and equally energetic and exploratory. Egged on by the array of analog electronics and heavy keyboards, I imaged this like being at an early Soft Machine concert, where the intersection of jazz, rock, composition, and improvisation was being explored with inventive fervor. The mixture of slide guitar, somewhat random percussion, and unpredictable keyboard playing made sure that nothing felt pre-planned. The group, overall, was more about pulse and texture than melody and several times they rode their spacey explorations to throbbing climaxes.
Satisfied, I wandered over to the main stage for the final event of the night, American cornetist Rob Mazurek's Exploding Star International: Chicago - Berlin, a mix of both his large group concept "The Exploding Star Orchestra" and more than a handful of Berlin musicians, including the keyboardists Magda Mayas and Elias Stemeseder, and vibraphonist Els Vandeweyer. The group began with Mazurek conducting the group with the percussive clatter of the shell shaker. As the music formed, Mazurek picked up his cornet and blew a few notes directly at the table full of electronics, then essentially ceded the brass work to trumpeter Jamie Branch whose laser like tone cut through the roil of percussionists Chad Taylor and Hamid Drake. Towards stage left, vocalist Damon Locks was scribbling along with the music before picking up an old fashioned telephone receiver and delivering evocative and charged vocal screeds. The group spent at least 20 minutes building up - the tension was great - and it seemed like something was ready to burst. A tense moment passed where it sounded like rain falling on glass, then it comes: the band hits a chord and Drake takes a short but powerful drum solo. Then another chord, increasing in pitch, and Drake takes his mallets to the floor toms. Another hit, the pitch is climbing, then someone plays an off-kilter melody, and then *poof* it's gone, no explosion. At least not yet. Instead we are treated to wonderful musical moments where Mazurek's arrangements burst in colors, making synesthetes of us all. Powerful passages, like Branch's solo riding on a powerful musical riff, or Stemeseder's distorted solo on the Fender Rhodes, or Vandeweyer's solo on vibraphone, were spine-tingling, however, there were also some long meandering points that made the piece about 20 minutes too long. Regardless, it was easy to leave the first night of the event, slightly tired from all of the input, but incredibly charged by the music.
On the second night there was less to decide. With focused attention on the main stage, the evening began with the political and social justice bend of Irreversible Entanglements. It began with a klang, saxophonist Keir Neuringer with the percussive shells, and vocalist Camea Ayewa (aka Moor Mother) with basic electronics, a rattle of percussion from Tcheser Holmes on drums, a rumble of bass from Luke Stewart, and some atmospheric swishes from trumpeter Aquiles Navarro. The band is the right band for the times, as Ayewa's poetry and politically charged words are urgent and revolutionary. They invoke timeless oppression and emotional opposition and feel like an unending call-to-action as the group weaves fiery free jazz and energy under and around the kinetic words. Their debut album on International Anthem was a hit and it's a pleasure to see them on the international stage.
Following, Camea Ayewa and saxophonist Roscoe Mitchell performed an intimate duo set. Two strong personalities on stage - Mitchell with his focused seriousness, and idiosyncratic musical language, and Ayewa with her evocative, serious lyrics, and powerful delivery - played off of each other successfully. Mitchell's high pitched soprano cry, supported by his circular breathing, is a dominant sound, and Ayewa matches it with her intensity. Her lyrics here seemed to touch on a more personal level, invoking images of family and traditions, while Mitchell provided a musical thread for her to hang the words on. The two engaged in a dynamic conversation, alternating dynamics, pitches, and timbres, sometimes reacting and sometimes ignoring each other.
They were followed by Jamie Branch, who also burst onto the musical world recently with her International Anthem album Fly or Die.Branch and her group launched into their epic musical journey, which book-ends wandering through dark musical passages with catchy and up-tempo and memorable riffs. The cello and bass combination in the rhythm section is perfect for this type of exploration, and when they finally coalesce around a strong riff, Branch climbs the musical peaks with precision. Throughout, she navigates the free exploratory stretches with an identifiable and focused tone. Towards the end she says "we play this music in hopes of peace" and asked the for the audience's help to invoke the names of Michael Brown and Sandra Bland - two African Americans who were the victims of police violence in the US. At first, it seemed like a disconnect, but then, thinking about the musical darkness and light just witnessed, the promise of justice seems to be something both far away but hopefully on the horizon ... something to dream about together.
The night ended with a highly anticipated set by the Art Ensemble of Chicago. Nicole Mitchell, who also performed with the ensemble, introduced them reminding the audience that their last performance in Berlin was twenty seven years ago. Last summer, the ensemble performed at the Jazzwerkstatt festival in Peitz, located a few hours outside Berlin. That concert turned out to be a bit of a disappointment, but their return to Berlin was a different story. At Peitz the group had been a sextet with two bassists, cello, sax, trumpet, and percussion, however here, the ensemble had expanded to eleven pieces. Retaining the core of Roscoe Mitchell, trumpeter Hugh Ragin, percussionist Fomaudou Don Moye, bassist Jaribu Shahid, and cellist Tomeka Reid, the newer faces included violist Eddy Kwon, violinist Jean Cook, bassist Silvia Bolognesi, percussionist Dudu Kouate, vocalist and electronics Christina Wheeler, and flutist Nicole Mitchell. The first half of the show saw Roscoe Mitchell conducting the group. After a soft trumpet introduction, and a response from the flute, Camea Ayewa joined the group on stage. She delivered syncopated and spiky vocals, which connected quite well with the groups music. The focus then shifted to Wheeler's electronic Mbira and vocals, after which the pulse picked up as the spotlight moved to the percussionists and then to the strings, and finally back to Ayewa. Mid-way, Mitchell shifted from conductor to player and delivered a fleet uptempo solo. Next, Nicole Mitchell wrapped the en rapt audience with a slinky metallic line and the band shifted into traditional jazz after a long brainy trip. As the music morphed and changed, each player bringing briefly a new focus and sound, and after contributions from Ragin, and Shahid on a bass ukelele, the band settled into their ending theme and closed the night triumphantly.
Sunday, November 4th
Saturday found the festival spilling out of the confines of the Haus into the neighborhood, including the nicely appointed A-Trane and Quasimodo jazz clubs. Sunday began with the Kiez Spaziergang - a collection of intimate concerts at secret neighborhood venues which I would have liked to have attended but was too slow to realize that one needed to have prearranged their access. I am sure that hearing Ingrid Laubrock and Susan Alcorn in the wild was a nice way to start a Sunday.
I rejoined the festivities for “Melancholy Sunday” back at the Haus in the large hall - crowded to capacity. The night began with a large ensemble led by Norwegian guitarist Kym Myhr. With four guitarists and three drummers, there seemed to be a lot of possibilities. The first of the two songs hinted at this promise with large sweeping soundscapes of strummed guitars and building tension hinted at coming storm, as drummer Tony Buck played an excellent extended solo. However, they seemed to pull back before going over the edge, and the second song couldn't seem to break free from a rather uneventful strumming pattern.
Next up was the Mary Halvorson Octet. It has been interesting seeing and hearing this band develop over the years. An early concert, before they recorded "Away with You", it had been shaky but pointed to where they were going. A series of shows at the Village Vanguard seemed to have cemented their sound, and here they played an exciting and original set, which seemed ready to point Jazz in a new direction. The set began with the lonesome wail of Alcorn's pedal steel guitar. While called a 'guitar', it really is it's own musical beast, and Alcorn's unusual chord voicings and shimmering notes make for an excellent partner to Halvorson's piercing slippery bends. The real joy of this band however is how Halvorson writes for the horns - the excellent saxophonists Ingrid Laubrock and Jon Irabagon, trumpeter David Ballou, and trombonist Jacob Garchik. Each member had their chances to shine with ample solo opportunities and with the composed passages that ranged from Raymond Scott-like to the Ellingtonian. Halvorson herself laid back and took only a few spotlight moments, one being a playful and powerful duet with Alcorn.
The Octet was followed by a solo set from Bill Frisell. Drawing from his recent "Music Is" recording, he began with a light folksy tune deliberately plucked out on the telecaster. It is solid ground for the guitarist who has always embraced 'Americana' in his music and this latest album, and performance, is a recasting of his music in a solo setting. Rethinking older songs and stripping back his tunes to their skeleton, he seems to be finding new momentum. The most successful tune of the night was 'Baboucar' from his 2003 album The Intercontinentals and mid-set a bunch of Thelonious Monk tunes appeared which fit Frisell's approach perfectly. The encore with Mary Halvorson was a nice summation of the night, but it was also a little bit of a let down. Perhaps the contrast between Halvorson's approach and Frisell's austere lines is still a little too broad, but nevertheless, they played the title track from their new duo recording on Tzadic Maid with the Flaxen Hair to enthusiastic applause.
Overall, it was a satisfying closing night to an overall exciting festival, and one which answered affirmatively a question posed during the opening night by Dr. Ndikung when he asked "if jazz died in Berlin, could Berlin also be a point of revivification?". While my experience at the festival was just a sampling of the the whole thing, it was enough to take a look towards the future, rooted in the accomplishments of the past, and if the crowds here mean anything, they seemed pretty enthused to checking out where jazz is headed.
After John Zorn in 2022 and Bill Frisell in 2023, the Reflektor event,
which gives established artists, often associated with the jazz scene but
whose skills stretch well beyond that genre, the opportunity to present a
wide range of current and past projects, it was guitarist Marc Ribot’s turn, whose guitar sounds have
bridged the underground and the popular, to make his strings resonate in
the Elbphilharmonie. The unparalleled construction houses a hotel,
restaurants, bars, shops, wide spaces and terraces with spectacular views
over the city, port and river. Its architecture is as impressive as the
acoustics of its music venues: an elevated shrine for listeners who gather
to hear the man who helped shape the sound of Downtown New York from the
1980s onward. The program was made up of eight concerts, six by the master
of ceremonies and two by bands featuring friends and colleagues, plus a
listening session.
First Evening
Photo by Daniel Dittus
Things start off with a set of solo acoustic guitar, the
only time when sounds from the audience (coughing, sneezing, foot tapping…)
are heard along with the music, without ruining the experience though. Such
are the acoustics of the Kleine Saal that, when low-volume music is
presented, the slightest movement from anyone can be perceived across the
whole room. No need to worry though, as the next shows prove of the
immersive and room-filling kind. The venue is in complete darkness, except
for the light descending on the artist from the ceiling and some abstract
projections on the black curtains at the back of the stage. Ribot’s face is
bent towards his instrument, a posture which we’re used to seeing him adopt
and which he seldom deviates from, except when he has to sing in the
microphone. While a good chunk of the set seems improvised, it is announced
to be based on new material from an upcoming solo album, the next entry in
a series that started with
Plays Solo Guitar Works of Frantz Casseus
in 1993 (reissued in 2021 with extra tracks), some of which is performed
tonight. The set oscillates between Hispanic meditations, remakes of Albert
Ayler and John Coltrane (the rarely played “Amen”), clear-cut recitations
accompanied by flexible tempi… Everything weighs in the balance: melody,
texture, resonance, and that includes the space and the audience, all a
part of the present moment’s proceedings. Ribot remains faithful to the
song form, even when endeavoring deconstructions and alterations. His sound
and touch are unique, his timing immaculate, setting the tone for things to
come.
Ceramic Dog. Photo by Daniel Dittus.
Ceramic Dog is a resolutely rock trio, in which there are
few to no elements of jazz, even by a broad definition of the term, except
for their shared revolutionary, life-affirming values and quest for social
justice. Ches Smith and Shahzad Ismaily
are both on drums at the start, before the latter switches to saturated
electric bass, Moog keyboard and smaller odd instruments. The program is
titled Connection, also the name of the trio’s latest effort. This
Dog is frontally clawing and tearing at the home and foreign U.S. policies
of the current era, with each guitar chord, bass note and drum hit
vigorously, even aggressively carried out, an unrelenting sonic assault.
The same goes for Ribot’s lyrics and declamatory style. The
more is more
approach does not always allow to understand the lyrics. This is crushing
tribal punk rock with a vengeance, a transmutation of anger into music. One
would imagine this level of energy to be the preserve of the rebellious
youth. Not so for the septuagenarian, and there is no denying that the
loudness option is consistent with the message, which doesn’t fail to draw
cheers from the audience. Contrast and nuance will have to wait. The
decibels go down a good notch during an atmospheric instrumental piece, a
quasi-concrète score that stood out stylistically from the rest of the set,
with strobing sound effects and a leaning towards the avant-garde. After
which it’s back to familiar territory with yet another irate rock item and
two encores, the first a heated western ride, the last a cover of Bob
Dylan’s “Mr Tamborine Man.”
Second Evening
Hurry Red Telephone Quintet. Photo by Daniel Dittus.
The Hurry Red TelephoneQuintet is a
continuation of 2005’s Spiritual Unity project inspired by the
music of Albert Ayler and initially comprising of Roy Campbell on trumpet,
Chad Taylor on drums and a recently rediscovered and
erstwhile Ayler colleague Henry Grimes on bass, later a trio without
Campbell after the brass man’s passing in 2014. On bass,
Hilliard Greene
bears a physical resemblance to Grimes, down to wearing a sweat band and
showcasing a similarly unconventional, forceful playing. Greene is the
obvious anchor for the group. The guests turning the trio into a quintet
are Mary Halvorson bringing a second guitar to the roster,
and James Brandon Lewis. Their blend of free jazz and free
rock involved poetry, acid-infused flights, shuffling rhythms… A
multi-stylistic brew akin to some Aylerian afro-beat. Hunched over his
guitar, Ribot kicks the gates of hell loose, before retreating to silence
to let the quartet riff in the aftermath of his release of molten lava. The
music is based on simple riffs and anthems, and a ballad has the sonorous
Lewis at his most lyrical. Halvorson’s guitar is oftentimes drowned in that
company. She makes the best of the situation and avoids entering into a
competition with Ribot. The intensity increases as the show goes on and
Coltrane's "Sunship" is delivered in a rapid-fire unruly version. A
thunderous drum solo has everybody, on and off stage, turn their eyes
towards Taylor. Here’s hoping for a studio or live recording.
Red Lily Quintet. Photo by Daniel Dittus.
It’s James Brandon Lewis’ night as he plays two sets and
heads one, which takes some stamina – and he has in it spades. The presence
of the Red Lily Quintet, on its third date of a 14-shows
tour of Europe, makes sense as Lewis is an occasional guest of Ribot, on
Songs of Resistance and Ceramic Dog’s Connection. The
Quintet performs material from the To Mahalia, With Love album.
Mahalia Jackson’s exaggerated vocals and god-fearing repertoire isn’t my
cup of bourbon, but the hefty tenor’s take manages to make the – mercifully
wordless – gospel songs a joy to listen to, unlike the original versions
bathed in none-too-subtle Hollywood strings. Focusing on the spirit rather
than the letter, Lewis and the band deliver acoustic jazz of the highest
order, like they did when opening the 2024 edition of the Jazz em Agosto
festival. A change in the line-up has Lily Glick Finnegan
on drums instead of Chad Taylor, bringing the band to three women (with
Tomeka Reid on cello and Silvia Bolognesi
on bass) and two men (Karl Berger’s disciple Kirk
Knuffke on cornet, in addition to the leader). After the revelation
that was Bolognesi in Lisbon, newcomer Finnegan also impresses, always
forging ahead. Maybe the closed rectangular venue had a different effect on
the band than the summertime outdoors amphitheater, as the music felt more
compact this time, while retaining the same qualities such as the seemingly
effortless interplay between Lewis and Knuffke (who likes to growl and
quote from early jungle jazz), some inspired soloing and the delightful
communication between the two string players. It’s Christmas already and
the quintet takes us to church with a series of pieces often based on a
single chord or revolving around a single bass note or repetitive line. New
life is breathed into the spirituals, and the last piece exemplifies how
much music can be summoned out of the flimsiest material.
Los Cubanos Postizos. Photo by Daniel Dittus.
Los Cubanos Postizos’ material is culled from the band's
two albums from 1998 and 2000. The main influence is that of Arsenio
Rodriguez, from whom a good part of the repertoire is lifted, as seen
through the lenses and culture of a North American player, ever displaying
a biting energy, helped by his original cohorts consisting of
Anthony Coleman
on portable organ, Brad Jones on bass,
Horacio »El Negro« Hernandez
on drums and EJ Rodriguez on percussion. This show takes
place in the main concert hall, aka the magnificent Großer Saal
with its stage surrounded by curved and irregularly shaped balconies, with
peculiar walls reminiscent of beehive cells (actually
“10,000 individually micro-shaped drywall plates to disperse sound
waves”
, according to Wikipedia). The party-like music is well-suited to the room,
more accustomed to symphonic orchestras. Ribot delivers short and cutting
solos, interspersed with rhythmic workouts. This music never gets old,
these salsa reworkings already ageless when they first came out. The simple
and effective pieces are performed in succession, oblivious to the
applause. Ribot could have carved a career out of this style, choosing
instead to explore other areas and challenges, from contemporary to film
music, and a lot of sideman work. Every note emanating from his guitar is
trebly, dirty and undisciplined, but the overall feel here is that of
relaxed grooves, with band members clearly enjoying themselves. In the
higher mezzanines, a woman starts dancing, soon followed by other people,
which the music certainly encourages. A nostalgia-tinged piece is a
throwback to Ribot's playing with Portuguese band Dead Combo, live and on
record. Each note is loaded with either the blues or saudade. A
new crowd-pleaser on two chords allows the percussionists to shine, and
we’re sent home after “Horacio in Havana,” not played in 17 years.
Final Day
Photo by Daniel Dittus
The Listening Session opens the last day and is expertly
and quietly moderated by Tom R. Schulz, Ribot proving a more talkative
interviewee than Bill “man of few words” Frisell
[review of Frisell's Reflektor Festival (in French)]. This is a welcome bonus to the concerts, allowing to share a
moment with an artist listening to particular tracks on selected LPs and
telling anecdotes or explaining how they were influential to them. Unlike
Frisell, who focused entirely on U.S. records from the first half of the
1960s, Ribot chose a good chunk of records he took part in, or from artists
he was inspired by and collaborated with. Emergency of expression appears
as the common denominator here.
First LP on the turntable is an Albert Ayler record I had never seen
before, Swing Low Sweet Spiritual, a February 1964 Quartet
recording released in 1971. It was Ribot’s initial exposure to Ayler, on a
friend’s advice,
“Not pretty music but ritualistic and transformative, for the musicians
as well as the audience.”
A lengthy intro of exploratory abstract sounds and what sounds like a
harpsichord eventually lead to a free fanfare with shrieking saxophone and
hi-flying trumpet. The connection here is bass player Henry Grimes, who was
part of this Quartet, and was much later called on to join Ribot’s “Ayler
tribute band” Spiritual Unity, soon after Grimes reappeared on the scene
after having disappeared for decades.
Next is soul music with a proto-drum’n’bass rhythm, courtesy of a classic
track by Wilson Pickett, a carbon copy of the James Brown style of the
1960s, shouts and all. It’s coming from
The Exciting Wilson Pickett
LP (Atlantic), an album Ribot owned in his youth. He explains later playing
with Pickett, which he describes as “a violent man”, as well as
Eddie Floyd and Carla Thomas. Ribot talks about the structural closeness of
country music and soul, which is an interesting reveal.
We switch to the contemporary era with an excerpt from Carla Bozulich’s
Evangelista. The chosen song is ominous, with strings and
unidentifiable instruments, with a feverish recitation, somewhere between
Patty Waters and Patti Smith.“Political life in the U.S. has collapsed”,
says Ribot. “But we have the church of Carla, Iggy Pop, Wilson Pickett”.
On to Ornette Coleman Prime Time, a forever influence on Ribot, with a
track off the rarely spotted Of Human Feelings (why aren’t Prime
Time records reissued?). The hurried tune, both funky and out, evokes the
hustle and bustle of the streets of New York. Drummer Calvin Weston was
heard alongside Ribot in Zorn’s Asmodeus band (The Book of Angels vol.7)
as well as in The Young Philadelphians with Prime Time bass player
Jamaaladeen Tacuma and Mary Halvorson.
“Coleman was transforming pop music, like jazz has always done”
, finger on the pulse of the times.
Poetry comes next with an excerpt from the Hal Willner-produced
The Lion for real
by Beat author Allen Ginsberg. The track “Aunt Rose” has Ginsberg’s spoken
word coupled with violin and Ribot’s guitar. The weekend’s honoree evokes
both his Jewish roots and his deceased pal Hal Willner, a producer who
built a priceless series of thematic albums with stellar line-ups, covering
the songbooks of Marc Bolan, Charles Mingus, Nino Rota, Thelonious Monk…
Last but not least, Ribot chooses a song (with lyrics by Daniel Johnston),
“King Kong” from Tom Waits’ Orphans. Waits seems to be making all
sounds, from the human beatbox to the hallucinated preacher narration,
apart from Ribot’s funky licks and searing blues interjections.
The listening session:
Film music
Shadows Choose their Horrors. Photo by Daniel Dittus.
Jennifer Reeves' Shadows Choose their Horrors is a half-an-hour
black and white arthouse film that inserts silent-era film footage into
newly shot scenes of a fragmentary gothic tale that remained outside of
this viewer's understanding but involved poppy seed consumption and
vampirism. The images were built from various techniques and effects, such
as burning celluloid, scratches, short sequences in stop motion... Ribot’s
love affair with film isn’t new and it was a nice touch to have included
this side of his work in the program. He released records in the Film Music
series on Tzadik, contributed to many of Zorn's own Filmworks
(live and on record), scored feature films (France’s Gare du Nord
is one) and released an album called Silent Movies. Ribot’s
longtime friend and associate Anthony Coleman drew
harpsichord and organ sounds from his vintage-looking keyboard, and the
whole thing was on the exploratory side, enhancing the nightmarish pictures
on the big screen. No clue was given as to why Ribot chose this particular
cinematic work.
Thumbscrew. Photo by Daniel Dittus.
Thumbscrew has issued eight albums on the Cuneiform label
since 2014, up until this year’s Wingbeats. The program is titled
Multicolored Midnight which is the name of the trio’s previous
record. The generous set of complex, angular pieces proves gripping from
start to finish, and some of the jazziest of the weekend (swing is a part
of Thumbscrew’s equation), from the busy yet airy drumming of
Tomas Fujiwara
(who alternates with the vibraphone) to the warm, supple and unifying
double bass of Michael Formanek and the chiseled,
impossibly fast and spidery guitar playing of
Mary Halvorson, who used her trademark effects sparingly. All members contribute
compositions, without a trace of repetition or complacency. Hard to tell
which piece was penned by whom, with the possible exception of Halvorson's
tracks as some of the quirkiest compositions on display had much in common
with that of her Code Girl project – which both other members have been a
part of. The trio played without interruption or saying a word, facing
abundant sheet music. Their tense, focused faces indicated that this is
demanding music to play. And it is rewarding to listen to and marvel at the
ideas and execution. Like with James Brandon Lewis’ Quintet, Thumbscrew was
on tour, and the connection between Halvorson and Ribot allowed the trio to
fit nicely in the program.
Shrek. Photo by Daniel Dittus.
Two electric guitars (Ribot and Ava Mendoza), two
drummers (Ches Smith and Chad Taylor),
and Brad Jones on acoustic and electric bass make up this
revisited and revised version of two 1990s Ribot bands. The first tune has
Smith on piano, not a common sight. Rootless Cosmopolitans
recorded two albums, in 1990 and 1992. Ribot has lost the charts of the
material which hasn’t been played in 37 years, and tells us that this show
“took more work than all of the other shows combined”. Less famous
but just as interesting, Shrek was an immediate follow-up
to the Cosmopolitans, in an aesthetic continuum – rougher and with a
different line up. The eponymous 1994 album ended with a version of Ayler’s
“Bells” and their live performances had some material overlap with the
Cosmopolitans, as shown on a 1999 live release. The tunes are more
painstakingly arranged than on the recordings of yore. The once messy
downtowners are now seasoned pros, and Mendoza looks very serious indeed.
It’s a tight unit. Like with the Cubanos, Ribot didn’t continue working with
these bands for long, preferring to embark on new projects – until Ceramic
Dog was launched, which in retrospect is the band with whom he toured and
recorded the most. It’s rock at the core but letting other genres seep in,
notably harmolodic funk. Best of the set and likely part of the Shrek
repertoire, is a lengthy experimental piece, drumless, with grainy and
choppy guitar emissions like intermittent radio buzzing, or dueling guitars
throwing bursts of noise at each other, unlike the mostly song format of
previous acts. We’re in guitar heaven. Ribot didn’t have a chance to look
back on his past exploits before the Hamburg invitation, so we’re lucky to
be in attendance and witness the results. Some negative remarks are heard
from some in the audience as it didn’t sound a bit like the Rootless of the
past, but this reporter was instead enthused by the artful and mighty
update. More surprise awaits at the encore, with Ribot playing the E-flat
horn.
A few days after the event, a short documentary with snippets of music and
short interviews with the artists was released:
The 2025 series “Jazz at the Phil” will include Joe Lovano’s Paramount
Quartet featuring Julian Lage, Asante Santi Debriano, Will Calhoun on
January 30; Tyshawn Sorey Trio on February 11; Allison Miller & Myra
Melford’s Lux Quartet on March 27; and Art Ensemble of Chicago on May 14.
