Ben Goldberg, Todd Sickafoose and Scott Amendola - From Here to These (Secret Hatch, 2024)

By Landon Kuhlman

Here to There is an apt title for an album that is just as interested in exploration as it is in returning home to tradition and continuing the canon of creative jazz music. Though clarinetist Ben Goldberg, bassist Todd Sickafoose and drummer Scott Amendola have played together in many forms over the years, there was still an ulterior, germinating idea that brought this particular album together: using extracted melodic bits from Thelonious Monk compositions as fuel for new extrapolations. Monk was known for many things, one of them being his ability to get so much mileage out of melodies that appeared simple, yet whose underlying oddities would always leave room to expand. This trio picks up where he left off, using these bits (from pieces such as “Epistrophy” and “In Walked Bud”) to create variations that are all their own.

Despite this concept, there is no hint of imitation on this album. All three musicians bring their own voices and ideas to each of the pieces, which are all original compositions—the Monk bits are sewn into the fabric of the music like quilt squares. To be frank, I didn't notice the Monk connection until I was researching the album. The trio's goal of adding to the tradition by being openly creative and musically honest is easily through this approach. 

Goldberg's clarinet investigations are as clear as ever. His sound is as idiosyncratic as Sonny Rollins’ the tenor saxophone. Expressive, vibrant, and as clear as a bell, his playing is the heart of this record. At times it’s fluid, at others articulate and speech-like. Amendola's drumming is equally compelling, providing the backbone as well as tasteful electronic textures that add significant depth. His "Lion Heart" series, appearing in three iterations across the album, showcases his versatility, from a sparse clarinet-and-drums duet to a more ritualistic, layered soundscape.

Something truly amazing happens on this record: you can literally hear the musicians listening to each other. The effect of their close listening is palpable to a jaw-dropping extent. This trio setting is ideal for their Monk concept and these compositions. It gives them the freedom to do what the Ornette Coleman Trio did so beautifully: make the listener forget where the writing ends and the improvising begins. With all three musicians engaged nearly constantly, rather than taking turns laying out for solos, the performances evoke the spirit of the classic Air trio recordings. 

This album radiates a quiet peace. The compositions do wander and explore, but with a calm confidence that washes away the restless energy that defines so much of modern jazz. Even at their most adventurous, the players seem to breathe together, like a single organism moving through a dream. There are moments that drift close to silence, not out of restraint, but out of trust—trust in space, in tone, in the listener’s willingness to lean in. It’s the kind of record that feels like it was recorded in a room with soft morning light, where time slows down just enough to hear every intention behind each note.

Aside from the achievements in musicianship, this album also sounds fantastic. The mixing matches the playing, with nothing being pushed to the sidelines and no instrument or sound taking ultimate precedence over anything else. A gentle dollop of echo is added to help this blend occur—just enough to add space, but not enough to blur the articulations or the truly organic feeling of this record. Even the sparse electronics fit into this puzzle with ease, as if the wiring from the machines contained their very own resonance. 

Through their deep interplay, compositional curiosity, and unique sense of space, Goldberg, Sickafoose, and Amendola offer a record that feels both grounded and searching. It’s a rare kind of album: thoughtful without being cerebral, and adventurous without being chaotic. Its approachability allows multiple listens, and its quality demands it.

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Dan Rosenboom Quartet

It's always nice to catch up with the folks keeping music alive over on the West Coast. Los Angeles, in particular, has been in the news a lot lately - from disasters both natural and unnatural - so let's take a moment to (re)focus on something undeniably much more positive. Here is trumpeter Dan Rosenboom leading a quartet with keyboardist Joshua White, bassist Tim Lefebvre and drummer Anthony Fung.

 

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Joe Fonda - Eyes On The Horizon (Long Song Records, 2024)

By Stef Gijssels

This album is a tribute or a gift by bassist Joe Fonda to his master teacher, Wadada Leo Smith. They have asked their friends Satoko Fujii to join on piano and Tiziano Tononi on drums. The four have an interesting list of mutual collaborations, creating high expectations for this quartet performance. 

In 1982 Joe Fonda and Wadada Leo Smith had their first collaboration with the Creative Improvisors Orchestra – "The Sky Cries The Blues" and in 1989 with Smith on "Procession Of The Great Ancestry". Fonda performed many times with Satoko Fujii, and released the duo albums "Duet" (2016), "Mizu" (2018), "Thread of Light" (2022), and a trio on "Triad" (2018) and "Four" (2019). With Italian drummer Tiziano Tononi they perform in several bands released on the Italian Long Song label, as is this album, with some special other releases worth mentioning such as the Allman Brother's tribute "Trouble No More... All Men Are Brothers" (2017) and even more recently on "Winter Counts (We'll Still Be Here!)" (2023) on which Fonda plays electric bass on a few tracks. Also worth mentioning is the J. & F. Band's "From The Roots To The Sky" (2018), "Cajun Blue" (2020), "Me and the Devil" (2021) and "Star Motel" (2024) And to complete the list, Smith and Fujii collaborated on "Aspiration" (2017), "Hyaku, One Hundred Dreams" (2022). That's quite a list. 

Despite the line-up and the lead voice of the trumpet, this is very much a Joe Fonda album, with a prominent voice of the bass, both plucked and arco, often setting the basic theme for the other musicians to expand on. The music has an inherent openness and freedom of movement, an environment that suits all four musicians in a very natural way. They need just the slightest hints to move the music forward with strong coherence and depth. 

A good example is the "We Need Members Opus #4", on which Fonda's rock solid bass vamp is an open invitation for the quartet to have a more than twelve minutes meditative development, with thanks to Fujii some moments of more dramatic tension, and a great bass solo in the middle section. 

The most moving and beautiful piece is "My Song Opus #2", a gentle sensitive theme introduced by the piano, supported by Fonda's brilliant bowed bass, countered by an angular contrasting theme, full of dramatic effect, recreating the theme from the start, now more eery, more vulnerable, uncanny even. The rapid-fire pizzicato bass, the slow trumpet, the mysterious piano and the precise percussion create a wonderful sonic universe that requires great skills and artistic vision. A real treat. 

"Like No Other" is - unlike all other tracks - not dedicated to Wadada but to Bobby Naughton, the vibraphonist who passed away in 2022 and with whom both Fonda and Smith performed. The piece starts with a very dark and dramatic unison theme between arco bass and trumpet, that leads into a heartrending and moving duet, that is both ethereal and intimate. 

Boppish, angular themes act as jumping boards for bright and shiny improvisations. There is almost only light in this music, with a few exceptions. It's grand and intimate at the same time. 

The music is so great, tight and free that you wonder why these four artists never recorded together before.  I can only encourage Joe Fonda to keep the initiative. 

Listen and download from Bandcamp.

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Spindrift- Trio Studies (JazzHausMusik, 2025)

By Martin Schray

Re-reading Albert Camus and listening to Spindrift’s Trio Studies simultaneously, it occurred to me that they might have something in common. And indeed, at least the environment in which Spindrift operates (like most free jazz musicians) is similar to that of Sisyphus, as interpreted by Camus. Similarly, the situation of musicians in improvised music is absurd and they are the heroes of this world. In an increasingly commercialized world, they survive thanks to their passions and their determination to devote themselves to music. However, who are they? Spindrift is an outstanding trio of German free jazz musicians of the second generation: Frank Paul Schubert (alto and soprano saxophone), Dieter Manderscheid (bass) and Martin Blume (drums). They have little interest in the ugly consumer-oriented part of the music industry, instead they concentrate on their love of playing - and therefore of life. Every new gig means moving the stone like the Greek hero, rolling it up the mountain and climbing a slope with it again and again. But unlike Sisyphus, they do this with great ease; we experience all the human self-assurance of three perfectly mastered instruments.  

Trio Studies sets off at full speed, the first step is to get the rock rolling. Schubert sounds like a mixture of Ornette and Ayler, elegant and full of vibrato. Manderscheid pushes evenly and bumpily at the same time and Blume is the machine that gives the whole thing power. Even within the improvisation there are smaller heights to reach, here and there things slow down, you seem to need breathing space before finally reaching an intermediate goal - the end of the first climb. All in all, we are dealing here with eight sound-experimental works of art of the most exciting instant composing at the highest level. This is sometimes crystal clear, full of lightness and beauty (as in the second piece), sometimes more sluggish and tough (in a positive sense) as in the third piece. The mountain is not the same, it’s always different. The musicians are aware of this, their rock is not an enemy, it’s the symbol of the anticipation of the new, the unknown. So the fact that you can hardly earn any money with this music is not torture, but a sign of freedom. This is the whole secret joy of Spindrift and their music. Their destiny is theirs, and so is their music. They are the masters of their time. We watch them transform work into art. At any point in their playing together, the listener can hear asynchronous, weird yet beguilingly beautiful music that is the trio’s very own creation. Every gran of these lines, every sliver of this improvisation means the world to them. We have to imagine Spindrift as happy people. And because we are allowed to listen to them, we can be considered happy, too.

The album, Trio Studies, is available as a CD and as a download.

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The Free Saxophone and the Hated Music: Die Like a Dog, Live with God, etc.

Paul Flaherty - A Willing Passenger (Relative Pitch, 2025)

By Stuart Broomer

I first listened to A Willing Passenger on Bandcamp and thought it was great. When I got the CD, I realized I was missing an important component. There’s a liner note with a background narrative by Flaherty, describing an incident with a group of construction workers in the 1980s when he regularly played solo saxophone on the street. It’s a strong, if not essential, complement to the recording, as well as the source of both the CD title and the individual track titles. I don’t wish to burden Paul Flaherty’s music with the special burden of the post-Ayler saxophone’s history, perhaps even theology, but I think it’s strong enough to carry it.

One of Flaherty’s most powerful statements -- both musical and titular – is a duet recording from 2000 with drummer Chris Corsano. It’s essential music, in a couple of ways, but its title is essential too: it’s called The Hated Music. It’s out-of-print in all its forms but Bandcamp, but its ideal form is the two-LP reissue on Byron Coley’s Feeding Tube label with extraordinary cover art by Gary Panter and a certain physical mass that the music seems to demand. There’s something both brave and determined about that title, pre-emptive acknowledgement of some element of a music’s reception, free music’s edgy and complex legacy.

It’s a music sometimes tracked by madness, so out of courtesy to the masks and mouthpieces of many, I won’t go so far as to name names, but I’ll make one careful distinction that shouldn’t be ignored. Consider the late Peter Brötzmann, one of Albert Ayler’s first and greatest disciples, who dedicated to Ayler both a recording and a band named Die Like a Dog , a vision of life cruel enough to suggest even a canine shelter gassing or a KKKanine lynching. There’s a crucial difference between the sounds of Ayler and Brötzmann, even given the relative harshness of some of Ayler’s earlier recordings. It long ago occurred to me that Brötzmann’s music sounds like Albert Ayler without transcendence, without God. I know it’s a theological reading, but it’s rooted in timbre, the way Ayler, live or on any decent recording, had a sound that’s full of light, that light a matter of singing high frequencies breaking through and hovering over a sound that could suggest gauze or grit. If Ayler could, at his most enlightened, suggest angels’ wings in an updraft, Brotzmann, with high overtones barely evident in his sound, might supply a hydraulic drill attacking concrete.

Paul Flaherty’s music is deeply rooted in the work of Albert Ayler -- vocalic, impassioned, explosive -- which can be a blessing or a curse. Any close listener of free music will know, or perhaps at least suspect, that it regularly inspires both the greatest and worst of music from profoundly spiritual and existential orations to the most clownishly vacuous exuberance one will ever hear. The style’s explosive core can mask distinctions only so long before the poles of the practitioners get sorted out. It’s a music I’ve been around in various forms for 60 years. Along with Coltrane and Sanders [together] and Albert Ayler, I even managed to hear Charles Gayle in 1966, long before he became memorable. I have heard prophets and poseurs. In case I’m somehow mistaken, I make a practice of never writing about those I consider the latter, unless circumstances make it unavoidable and then its brief, suspecting that the low level of rewards in the field make them at least sincere poseurs.

Flaherty’s opening “Do You Know” defines the recording’s level of intensity. It’s a dirge, beginning in funereal melody, but one that will stretch to the tenor saxophone’s expressive limits – high-pitched squeals to overblown fundamentals in the lowest register that then become multiphonic blasts that cover multiple registers at once, then phrases that range suddenly from contorted to lyrical to circulating lines that stretch amongst all of those boundaries – avatars of music’s ultimate range.

“Would you like to take a ride?” is superbly lyrical alto saxophone, every technique subservient to expression, like Flaherty’s ability to mutate tone from note to note, bending from interjective squawk to sudden illumination in long recirculating lines embodying an essential lyricism.

“Oblivious to Surroundings”, taken on tenor, initially suggests a refraction of something Coltrane may have played but soon proceeds with a distinctive Flaherty mode, a pattern in which a lyrical phrase is then remodelled, clean pitches turned to ambiguity and multiphonics, smooth tone turned to abrasive wail. In the case the exploratory passages become tremendously intense, suspended

The title track is another fine alto performance, the identification based as much on register as tone, for Flaherty has the same breadth of sound on alto that he possesses on tenor, following the same imagination. The work again follows that rapid route from the lyrical to the expressionistic ultimately compressing them into single phrases – moving from torture to sweetness and vice versa.

“Small Lonely Looking Cloud”, on alto and just three minutes long, has an extended melodic exposition that suggests the uninterrupted transfer of image from a vision in nature to a single expository line with expanding sympathy and resonance, recalling certain shakuhachi recordings.

“Almost Finished”, is a powerful envoi on tenor, as expressive as one might be, and a reminder that in this particular field, the intensity of conviction, the depth of expression, is form itself.

A Willing Passenger is, clearly, often harsh, but it’s always vital. Much of it, most of it, has its own intense lyricism. Its greatest strength may be its immediate emotional intensity which in Flaherty’s mind, hands and breath becomes form. Even when there is a sense of developed melody (and virtually everything here is melody), it’s the keening emotional input and a corresponding attention to nuance that defines the shape of individual notes and short phrases. It is as human a document, with as substantial an emotional punch as a recording by Son House, (say “John the Revelator”) or Blind Willie Johnson (maybe, “God Moves on the Water”).

There’s a fine on-line interview with Flaherty where he talks, among many other things, about playing with massed frogs and a train. It’s a great introduction: https://15questions.net/interview/paul-flaherty-about-improvisation/page-1/

There’s also a fine account by Nick Metzger on Free Jazz Blog of Flaherty’s previous Relative Pitch solo release, Focused & Bewildered, from 2019. 

 

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Jukka Pekka Kervinen & Kevin Miller – Primordial (Ramble Records, 2025)

By Guido Montegrandi

The music  on Primordial is marked by fractured sounds and noises that produce in the listener (at least in me) a kind of restless expectation that is never to be fulfilled. It is as if the focal point of each piece is shifting into a blurred horizon. What we can hear are fragments that recreate new shapes each time - deceiving, stimulating, provoking.

Kevin Miller (electric guitar) and Jukka-Pekka Kervinen (electric bass, electric guitar, trumpet and electronics) developed their collaboration on the long distance exchanging files between NYC and Finland thus creating a music that thrives in-between, in the recording gap in time and space of playing-listening-overdubbing.

Just some fragmented impressions to try to give and idea of what their music sounds to me – anyway as it is often the case, this music requires a dedicated listening to let it develop its full potential and once you do so you are rewarded with a ear and brain enriching experience.

'Dark Mantle' opens the album with an energetic guitar duo that develops assembling layers of sound that seem to fray just to recreate themselves in a new shape

'Icy pool' sounds like trio made of two people with the bass and the almost-percussion-like electronics overdubbed by the electric guitar

The closing guitar duo of 'Broken Hands' focuses on the production of contiguous spikes of sound that merge and disassemble to create changing patterns that make me think of crystal formations in collision.

As usual, for better comprehension and to form your own judgement, here is the Bandcamp link to the album.

For more information about Kevin Miller: https://www.youtube.com/@kevinmiller124, https://kevinmillerguitar.com

For more information about Jukka Pekka Kervine: https://www.facebook.com/jkervinen

Now, and I really want to thank both Kevin Miller and Jukka Pekka Kervinen who were so kind to answer some questions about their work together, here is what they said:

Guido Montegrandi: How did the idea of Primordial develop?

Kevin Miller: The music heard on Primordial comes from a duo that Jukka and I have been working on for several years. Jukka and I have actually never met or played music together in-person, and have always created music through file-sharing. Almost every track on Primordial was completed through an extremely simple process which involved Jukka sending me an improvisation, followed by myself adding an improvisation to his improvisation via the process of overdubbing.

Jukka Pekka Kervinen: It was quite simple. We have collaborated with Kevin quite a lot, I think this is our 5th album. Kevin just sent a message if I would be interested of making a new album, and I started right away. There were no titles or theme, I recorded my parts of improvisations one by one, and sent them to Kevin after finishing.

GM: To me, the music on this record inspires a sense of urgency and the titles you choose evoke a kind of precariousness. Did you decide to focus on specific themes and atmospheres or did it just happen to develop that way?

K.M.: I think one of the things I like about the particular chemistry that Jukka and I have together is that sense of urgency. I can’t speak for Jukka, but I definitely feel that the urgency and precariousness you picked up on is something I always cherish in the process of “real” improvising, where you feel like the mechanics which are allowing you to make sound with your instrument are almost separate from the part of you which is a witness to what is happening.

Nothing related to the improvisations was pre-conceived, and the titles are honestly just completely random and from a source that has absolutely nothing to do with this recording or music in general. That being said, I completely get what you’re saying about them sort of informing that sense of precariousness in some way.

J.P.K: Your impression sounds quite exactly what is happening in this album. I work in the edge of the chaos, construct systems I am not able to control, sometimes completely chaotic, mostly non-deterministic, many times so complex that I know beforehand that I am not able to control the system. That applies to instruments as well, I play several, too many to learn them “properly”, so I am focusing to produce sounds rather unconventional manners. The last gig in here Finland I played alto trombone, which I got four days before the gig, not much time to learn the instrument (I have played other brass instruments). But experimenting as much as possible, I always find something interesting, and during to gig I am so focused that I invent even more.

GM: What is your attitude when improvising and was it modified by being, in this case, in different places and time in the process of creation?

K.M.: I think my attitude when improvising always comes down to an acknowledgment that the improvisational process will always work better for myself if I try to surrender to the moment as much as possible. So, in essence, I basically just tried to shut my brain off and listen to Jukka while allowing myself to make sound with guitar. I think, if you have chemistry with the person or people you’re playing with, that’s all you have to do.

For myself, this attitude when improvising wasn’t modified by the fact that we weren’t playing together in real time since my whole mode of being was just listening and reacting to Jukka.

J.P.K.: I have done that a long time, lots of collabs where we are different places. It is somewhat similar to playing together in real life, only different thing is extended time lag, it is not fractions of seconds, it is hours, days, weeks. If Kevin sends me something, I don’t prelisten to it, I decide the instrument or electronic/digital system, and play along and record all in first take, like in real life. When sending the base/first track, I try to imagine the other one there, leave the space, create the atmosphere, something where to continue.

GM: To J.P.K.: As you are also a visual artist and the author of the beautiful cover of this work, what is your opinion about the relation between music and visual expression, do you consider it relevant to your work?

J.P.K.: Sometimes there is a relation, many times they are separated completely. Nowadays, as I mostly work only digital images, I just focus the image not thinking it relations to anything. It depends quite a lot what kind of tools I am using. I write most of the software I use myself, to make music, texts, visual images. Sometimes I use same algorithms for creating sound and images, just adjusting parameters and (digital) materials to different dimensions (time to X-axis, amplitude/events/pitches/etc. to Y-axis, for instance), others might have more open connections, or no connections at all. I have also done quite a lot of “visual music”, graphic scores not meant to be played (there are no instructions), but somewhere between imaginary visual and sound world(s), the see the sound, to hear the visual element.

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Jazzdor Berlin 2025

By Paul Acquaro

One of the most compelling aspects of the Jazzdor festival in Berlin lies in its discovery potential. Each year, the program includes several well-established artists while simultaneously introducing less familiar talent - at least outside of French circles. The end result is usually a small collection of newly acquired CDs and a list of new names—evidence of the festival’s capacity to surprise and inspire through its curation. In fact, this year, it seems that the festival went even further in this direction, offering nearly a full program of 'premieres,' and in several cases, full on festival 'creations.'

 

For example, on the third night, three such 'premiers/creations' took place, pairing French and Polish musicians who had never played together as part of an initiative between curators Philippe Occhem from the Strasbourg, France based Jazzdor and Karolina Juzwa, from the Adam Mickiewicz Institute based in Warsaw, Poland.

 

Jazzdor has, of course, engaged in other cross European collaborations in recent years, notably in Hungary with the Budapest Music Center (BMC), which has resulted in festivals in Budapest and CD releases across both organizations' record labels. What was a bit different is that this time musicians were paired and given a few days to organize and develop their program before performing in the third night of the festival. Before we get to ahead of ourselves, let's circle back to the beginning.

Tuesday, June 3rd

Tuesday's opening began with a passing of the torch. Jazz journalist, festival programmer and organizer of the Paris Jazz Club initiative, Vincent Bessières is taking over from Occhem, who has directed Jazzdor for the past 36 years. The announcement was heartfelt and short, and then led quickly to the opening concert of the festival, guitarist David Chevallier's Time Machine.

 

David Chevallier - The Time Machine 

 

The Time Machine. Photo by  Ulla C.Binder

 

An absolutely unique concept to kick off the festival in which the set of French musicians each played a 17th-century ancestor of their modern instrument. Thus, guitarist David Chevallier played theorbo, trombonist Rose Dehors played the tenor sackbut, pianist Etienne Manchon was on harpsichord and cellist Atsushi Sakaï played the bass viol. Each instrument had characteristics of their current versions, but often with a dryer tone (except the bass viol, with six strings sounded like several string instruments at the same time). The contemporary composition followed the plot of H.G. Wells' The Time Machine from 1895, a first in the dystopian post-apocalyptic science fiction genre, and the music captured both the idle and the dark conflict in the work. Delivered on the renaissance era instruments, the metaphor extended from the conceptual to the perceptual. Maybe most striking is that the old instruments often lack the sensitivity of their modern equivalents, thus entirely contemporary classical passages, as well as the rockier ones, were enveloped in the sounds of antiquity. It was quite a striking concept.

Sleeping Animals

Sleeping Animals. Photo by  Ulla C.Binder

Billed as a 'creation' on the Jazzdor website, the quartet of Sleeping Animals was comprised of Sarah Murcia on double bass, Bruno Ducret on cello, Christophe Lavergne drums with violist Mat Maneri. The description of the project, written before the actual creation of the group, said that the project blends micro-tonality, polyrhythms, and influences from free jazz to punk rock, blurring boundaries between written composition and improvisation. The group's general 'chamber jazz' approach was supported by compositions that stretched often in opposite directions, melody and countermelody creating strong musical tensions. Sometimes, there was a tentativeness to the parts, which however dissipated entirely during the solo spots. Murcia was a standout, and with a musican like Maneri sitting 5 feet away, this is quite a feat. Hopefully, we will be hearing more from this group.

 

Wednesday, June 4th

Outside, along the cobblestone street that runs through he middle of the former brewery complex, a cover band was doing a yeoman's job of entertaining a small crowd at an open air beer garden. Inside the large metal doors to the Kulturebrauerei's Kesselhaus space, a larger crowd had filled-in the seats. The room is large and unadorned, the venue itself is fine example of "raw industrial charm," which throughout the year hosts dance parties and musical events.

Grégory Dargent - Soleil D’hiver 

 

Grégory Dargent. Photo by  Ulla C.Binder

 

The evening began with a solo oud set incorporating electronics and video to tell an impressionistic story of a journey through nostalgia and culture. Oudist Grégory Dargent's journey starts in Algiers, which his father had left in 1962. Beginning on a boat, he then travels over land, through the city and far beyond. He is also tracing the culture of the Oud and his travels then take him through northern Africa to the Middle East. Between the grainy video and the full sound of oud, enhanced through electronics and effects, Dargent presents a pathos laden journey that is in a sense timeless - yes, there are indicators of time like the automobiles or such, but that is hardly the focus, rather it is people, buildings, landscapes, the very things that remain embedded hazily in memory. The playing was at times melancholic as well as urgent and violent. An extended section of just electronics provided an interlude of sorts, before returning to an intense ending with images of lovely sunset. The overall effect is a story that is somewhat unresolved and questioning.

 

Orchestre National De Jazz - With Carla

 

ONJ. Photo by Ulla C.Binder

 

Every year of the festival, the Orchestre National de Jazz, a jazz big band supported by the French government, has presented a new program, along with new members and often a guest musician. Last year, American saxophonist Steve Lehman presented Ex machina, a gripping combination of the orchestra with artificial intelligence processing. This year, the program was much more organic, and under the musical direction of flutist Sylvaine Hélary, presented arrangements from the late composer Carla Bley. The selection had a tilt towards Bley's more cabaret and carnivalesque pieces, drawing pieces from early works across, such as Tropic Appetites, Musique Mecanique and European Tour '77, to some later pieces. The group's sound is powerful, and each member had a chance to contribute to the expansive, cinematic work. The first solo of the night came from Hélary, a beautiful contrast between the low strings and her clear, crisp flute. Generally, the arrangements exuded a lot of motion and energy, however they also felt slightly rigid at times. At the encore, half the band left the stage, leaving mostly the strings and Hélary playing a lithe, romantic piece that then segued back to the full band performing the campy, but crowd pleasing, 'Very Very Simple' from I Hate to Sing. (You can hear a broadcast of the performance on Deutschlandfunk Kultur radio here.)

Thursday 

Karolina Juzwa and Philippe Occhem. Photo by Ulla C.Binder

Thursday was the aforementioned collaboration between French and Polish musicians, and an absolute highlight of the festival. The 'Soiree Franco-Polonaise' night recognized Poland's leadership of the European Union this year as well as the burgeoning music scene in Poland. 

 

Dominik Wania & Christophe Monniot Duo

 

Wania and Monniot.  Photo by Ulla C.Binder

The concerts began with two consummate musicians, pianist Dominik Wania from Poland and saxophonist Christophe Monniot from France. Wania's discograpy is slim, but features an album on ECM and Monniot is a celebrated player who has released numerous albums featuring across variety of styles. Together, they delivered a powerful set that was both ruminative and powerful. They began with an interpretation of a composition from the 16th century. Romantic and gentle, Minniot's melody was sharp but not harsh, angular but still gentle. Wania provided disciplined accompaniment, filled with subtle harmony and light unsettled chords. The second piece provided a stark contrast, much more intense pulsating energy from both musicians, quick melodic runs from the sax and rhythmic jolts from the piano. The two pushed each other until the ending, which took a fragile, questioning turn. The music was not all convincing, some more saccharine passages crept up in a later, but one such tune was rescued with the mash-up into Bill Frisell's 'Strange Meeting.' This set was a pleasant meeting, by all means!

 

Äether

 

 Äether. Photo by Ulla C.Binder

 

This string quartet was the surprise of the festival. Another 'creation' of the curators, the group was the collective of violinists Amalia Umeda and Aleksandra Kryńska, violist Maëlle Desbrosses and cellist Adèle Viret. The young musicians began with barely a sound at all. They scratched at the strings and produced incidental notes, as their playing slowly gained traction. Each were lobbing staccato knots of sound at the others, slowly cohering, finding a common voice. Soon, striking intervals were slicing the air. The next piece had an airier feel with a folksy component that swirled to a climax. Following pieces featured droning backgrounds ethereal vocalizations that formed haunting clouds of sound. Elements of New Music were interwoven with classical counterpoint, culminating in a final piece—a spirited burst of free jazz that had several members rising from their seats as they bowed with fervor. 

 

Ciechelski, Dabrowski, Drabek, Ber

 

Ciechelski, Dabrowski, Drabek, Ber. Photo by Ulla C.Binder

 

The last group of the evening was the very promising premiere/creation of a quartet featuring saxophonist Léa Ciechelski, trumpeter Tomasz Dabrowski, bassist Kamila Drabek and drummer Samuel Ber. The group rumbled to life in the form a welcome 'classic' free-jazz ensemble, with the always exciting set up of sax and trumpet on the front line and a piano-less rhythm section. Dabrowski and Ciechelski exchanged small melodic snippets, while Drabek and Ber provided a lively, driving rhythmic pulse. More composed pieces followed, each member of the group contributing to the writing, and each tune offered an exciting contrast to the last. While the playing was excellent, it felt like the total energy slipped a bit as evening grew late.

Friday, June 6th

Samuel Ber - Eggs, Stairs & Shells

 

Eggs, Stairs & Shells. Photo by Ulla C.Binder

 

Although I was not able to attend the final night of the festival, I did have eyes and ears on the ground. However, even those eyes and ears were not able to be at the first set of the night, so I cannot speak with any certainty to Eggs, Stairs & Shells from drummer Samuel Ber, saxophonist Bo Van Der Werf, bassist Felix Henkelhausen and keyboardist Elias Stemeseder on what was their German premier. My initial thought, looking at the list of names, is that it would be a good show. I hope that indeed was the case. 

 

Hélène Labarrière - Puzzle

 

Hélène Labarrière's Puzzle. Photo by Ulla C.Binder

My source caught most of French bassist Hélène Labarrière's project Puzzle, with clarinetist Catherine Delaunay, saxophonist Robin Fincker, guitarist Stéphane Bartelt and drummer Simon Goubert. The report was that the combination of composed sections and explosive improvisations worked very well, each musician adding a distinctive voice to the group. This set also happened to be a release concert for the album of the same name, and surprisingly was the only group of the whole program with a directly related recording - quite an unusual circumstance, but one that attests to the adventerous spirit of the festival this year. 

 

Pascal Niggenkemper - The Ocean Within Us

 

The Ocean Within Us. Photo by Ulla C.Binder

 

The festival closed with a concert by bassist and this past year's Jazzdor artist-in-residence, Pascal Niggenkemper. The bassist, known for his creative compositions and free playing, created a group that combined German, American and French players entitled The Ocean Within Us. On stage, the group, drummer Gerald Cleaver, keyboardist Liz Kosack, and saxophonist Sakina Abdou, along with Niggenkemper, took their time building the suspense, from snippets of spoken word and samples and some unusual instrumental tools - Niggenkemper deployed his industrial metal light bulb covers and Kozak had a keytar! - to a finally reaching a riveting climax of sound and tension. You can see a short video that captures their spirit here.

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Torche! - 8 Notions De D​é​tente (Circum Disc/Tour de Bras, 2025)

By Stef Gijssels

A little over seven years after their debut album, the French-Canadian-Austrian quintet Torche! release their second album. The band consists of Xavier Charles on clarinet, Michel Côté on percussion and synth, Franz Hautzinger on amplified trumpet, Philippe Lauzier on bass clarinet and alto sax, and Eric Normand on electric bass, objects and loudspeakers. Readers familiar with the music of "Dans Les Arbres" and other minimalist electroacoustic ensembles will definitely like this music too. 

All musicians perform the eight improvised pieces as a group, creating sound sculptures based on minimalist sonic bits. The short and slow-paced sounds coalesce to something coherent and - strangely and miraculously - with a good sense of direction. Their art is organic in the double meaning of the word: it arises spontaneously, yet it also gives impression of being alive, like the sound of unknown creatures and plants even, growing and interacting on each other's space. 

The album's title means "six notions of relaxation", the song titles translate as "impression of outside", "subarctic manatee", "retting", "collecting ashes", "water-repellent", "spun light". The word "Lamarissage" does not mean anything, and the last title "Ronde à Retard" does not mean anything either. 

They demonstrate absurdity, impossibility or surreal images, reflecting the light and serious playfulness of the music, its inherent tension and irrational relation to reality. It stands on its own, without the need to be founded somehow in our world. It has its own logic, dynamics and meaning. It is "L'Art pour L'Art" (art for art's sake) in its purest form, without necessary reference to anything else than itself. 

It forces the listener to stop thinking, to stop looking for meaning, but to become part of the music itself. Appreciate what you hear, let yourself be overwhelmed by what you hear. Be the music. 

Intense music. An intense listening experience.

Listen and download from Bandcamp.

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Sven-Åke Johansson (1943 - 2025)

Photo by Cristina Marx/Photomusix

By Martin Schray

Only a drum kit stood on the wooden floorboards. Sven-Åke Johansson, as always dressed like a gentleman (which is how he saw himself) in an elegant three-piece suit and with his hair neatly combed back, began his “The Cucumber Piece” with what has become standard extended percussion playing - until he reached for two cucumbers hidden under a dish towel. Like a merchant in a Bertolt Brecht drama, he weighed them in his hands and gently slid them over the drumhead. Then he gently struck both cymbals, which trembled softly and reverently. There are many excellent drummers in the improvised music scene, but there was only one Sven-Åke Johansson. Now the great sound explorer, percussionist, avant-gardist and personified all-round artist has died somewhat unexpectedly.

Born in Mariestad, Sweden, in 1943, Johansson began as a drummer in dance bands, but turned to jazz early on and played in groups around Bobo Stenson from 1965 onwards, as well as with the American pianist Ran Blake in Spain and France. Above all, however, he quickly established contacts with the rapidly developing German free jazz scene. Johansson was involved in the first recording of the Globe Unity Orchestra and in 1967 he became a member of Peter Brötzmann’s trio with Peter Kowald, with whom he recorded For Adolphe Sax and later he also played in the saxophonist’s octet on the seminal Machine Gun. In 1968, he moved to Berlin and was involved in the development of the European version of free jazz and free improvisational music with all the alpha dogs there: Peter Brötzmann, Peter Kowald, Manfred Schoof, and Alexander von Schlippenbach. With the latter he often played in a duo, a project that lasted for a very long time. Additionally, Johansson played the accordion and recited spontaneous poetry. He was among the first percussionists who used extended materials for percussive effects. In the 1980s he was part of the Bergisch-Brandenburgische Quartett (BBQ) with Ernst Ludwig Petrowsky, Hans Reichel, and Rüdiger Carl. Carl Reichel, Wolfgang Fuchs, Radu Malfatti, Maarten Altena, and Norbert Eisbrenner, among others, were members of his Northern European Melody and Improvisation Orchestra. With Ulrich Gumpert and Axel Dörner and lots of other musicians he played in his Ol’ Man Rebop Ensemble.

However, it would be far too simplistic to reduce Johansson to his work as a free jazz drummer. He was much more interested in sound in general, calling what he explored and performed with insatiable curiosity “new new music.” To this end, he sprinkled peas on the drums and banged cardboard, he demonstrated the graininess of sandpaper and its ability to crunch, he drummed his way through the world on telephone directories and sang some of his beautiful, intricate and quirky songs with his own unique accent to the accordion strapped on backwards. He showed everyone who loves or hates ordinary drum solos that the most exciting sounds are not the ones which are played, it’s the ones that are left out, the ones we have to create ourselves. His 1996 concert for twelve tractors in Leipzig, which was performed again in 2013 at Klangspuren in Schwaz/Austria, is legendary. Together with Alexander von Schlippenbach, he initiated “Über Ursache und Wirkung der Meinungsverschiedenheiten beim Turmbau zu Babel” (On the Cause and Effect of Disagreements in the Tower of Babel), and he also created musical productions such as “Die Harke und der Spaten” (The Rake and the Spade). He has composed pieces for wind turbines, for cardboard boxes, and one of his compositions from 2020 is entitled “Komposition für 10 + 1 Eierschneider” (Composition for 10 + 1 Egg Cutters). He gave precise instructions on how to pluck them or play them with a plectrum while placing them on a wooden box open at the front. Together with Jan Jelinek, a musician and producer of electronic music, he had a duo that symbolized the successful connection between the old free jazz school and a new generation of electronic and noise musicians. As a total concept artist, Johansson tried to steer the audience’s perception in a certain direction using various means, only to then confront them with an unexpected twist in the musical or visual events. The fact that his performances always radiate into the visual realm is part of his concept. One could go on and on about him and his art. Apart from all the things mentioned he was also a photographer, a designer and a label owner (SAJ).

Sven-Åke Johansson’s oeuvre is full of outstanding music, music that has helped to define improvised music in the last 60 years. The above-mentioned For Adolphe Sax (BRÖ / FMP 1967) and Machine Gun (BRÖ 1968 / FMP 1972) belong to the European free jazz canon. His duo recordings with Alexander von Schlippenbach on FMP are superb: If you ask me I would choose Live at The Quartier Latin (1976), Kung Bore (1978), Drive (1981) and most of all Live 1976/77 (2001). His duo with saxophonist/clarinetist/accordionist Rüdiger Carl shows a different musical side of him,“Intermezzo für zwei Akkordeons“ on Fünfundreissigvierzig (FMP, 1986) is folk music in a weird and wonderful sense. With Schlippenbach, Carl and Jay Oliver on bass he recorded jazz classics, another one of his unexpected interests. Night and Day (FMP, 1985) is pure joy and a bow to the classics of the genre. A lesser known album is E.M.T.’s Canadian Cup Of Coffee (FMP/SAJ, 1974) with Alfred Harth on saxophones and clarinets and Nicole van den Plaas on piano, a very beautiful and humorous recording. The Bergisch-Brandenburgisches Quartet with Hans Reichel, Rüdiger Carl and Ernst Ludwig Petrowsky Free Postmodernism - BBQ with Fred Frith - USA, 1982 (SAJ, 2020) was only released a few years ago, but especially this album is a great discovery from the wild and outer fringes of free jazz at the beginning of the 1980s. Of his newer releases, Stumps (Ni-Vu-Ni-Connu, 2022) with Pierre Borel on sax, Axel Dörner on trumpet, Joel Grip on bass, and Simon Sieger on piano is worth being mentioned. For each track the “Stumps“ theme is repeated four times, forward then backward, a typical Johansson idea. Also, Rotations (Trost, 2025), his trio with Ignaz Schick (turntables) and Franz Hautzinger (trumpet) is a nice summary of Johansson’s interest in sound exploration. Finally, I’ve always liked his collaboration with Jan Jelinek, maybe because it’s very unusual for the man’s music (then again, the word “unusual“ does not really fit for Johansson’s art). Puls-Plus-Puls Edition Moers (Moers Record Store Schallplatten, 2021) is my favorite of the two albums they released.

With Sven-Åke Johansson, improvised music loses a consistent and distinctive voice that has significantly expanded the understanding of sound, form, and artistic expression over decades. It’s hard to imagine the musical world without him.

Watch the short and very insightful documentary with Johansson and the two Danish improvisers August Rosenbaum and Lars Greve:

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Louis Moholo-Moholo (1940 - 2025)

Photo by Peter Gannushkin

By Martin Schray

It’s difficult to imagine the situation for black musicians in South Africa in the 1960s today. Apartheid, the racist system of legal separation between blacks and whites, determined people’s lives, including art and music. Black and white musicians were not allowed to perform, rehearse, or travel together. Concerts in mixed ensembles were illegal. Politically charged music - such as African rhythms and free jazz - was considered “subversive” and many musicians were monitored by the state, their music banned or restricted. Black musicians needed special passes to move around their own country. International tours were hardly possible, and when they did happen, they were mainly for privileged white artists. Many black musicians therefore lived in poverty and had no professional platform for their art. Louis Moholo-Moholo had to deal with this reality at the beginning of his musical career, which is why he and his band, the Blue Notes, decided to leave the country in order to be able to perform freely. It was not until a little over 40 years later that he returned to his homeland, where he has now passed away at the age of 85.

Tebogo Louis Moholo-Moholo grew up in a township in Cape Town. In the vibrant jazz scene of this neighborhood, music became a place of expression, resistance, but also joy and hope. There, Moholo-Moholo met Dollar Brand (Abdullah Ibrahim), among others, and was a co-founder of The Blue Notes, a band that soon became the artistic spearhead of South African modern jazz. The Blue Notes consisted of black and white musicians, which was forbidden. Public performances were therefore dangerous, their music, which opposed restriction and racial segregation, was increasingly seen as provocative. In 1964, the band fled into exile in Europe, officially under the pretext of participating in the Antibes Jazz Festival in France. In reality, it was an escape from censorship, police surveillance, and oppression by the apartheid state. From South Africa, they traveled via France to London, where they sought and ultimately found asylum. “We played because we wanted to live - and we lived because we could play,” the drummer said in retrospect about this time.

Soon, Moholo-Moholo became part of the British free jazz scene, playing with Chris McGregor and his Brotherhood of Breath, with Dudu Pukwana, Evan Parker, Keith Tippett, and many others. He formed a particularly close musical friendship with Irène Schweizer, the Swiss pianist. In Europe, he played with all the important free jazz musicians, and several of his recordings with the West German FMP label are considered classics. His playing was explosive yet melodic, rhythmically rooted in African tradition but open to anything experimental. He combined township grooves with European avant-garde jazz - a musical act of decolonization. Logically, however, he was never “just a musician.” He understood his art as a political act, which was almost inevitable given his background. Apartheid, exile, the loss of his homeland – all of this resonated in his music. He refused to provide “entertainment”. His concerts were acoustic manifestos - loud, raw, demanding. In 2004, he received the Order of Ikhamanga in Silver, one of South Africa’s highest cultural honors, and in 2005, after more than 40 years in exile, he returned to Cape Town on a permanent basis. There, he taught, played with young musicians, and continued to fight for cultural and social justice.

Louis Moholo-Moholo was at home in all kinds of formations, and his characteristic drumming always enriched any group he played with. This makes it difficult to single out any particular albums from his extensive oeuvre. However, the first two Blue Notes albums, Blue Notes for Mongezi (Ogun, 1976) and Blue Notes in Concert Vol.1 (Ogun, 1978) are definite must haves. Almost everything he published on FMP is outstanding: The Nearer The Bone, The Sweater the Meat (FMP, 1979) and Opened, But Hardly Touched (FMP, 1981) with Peter Brötzmann on saxophones and clarinet and fellow expat Harry Miller on bass, are spectacular albums and only due to Miller’s untimely death there are just these two recordings by this trio. In general, Moholo-Moholo was great in duos with pianists - with his friend Irène Schweizer on their self titled album (Intakt, 1987), which includes “Free Mandela!“ and “Angel“, signature compositions of the two. In this context one must also mention No Gossip (FMP, 1982), a piano duo recording with Keith Tippett, and Remembrance (FMP, 1989) with the great Cecil Taylor. Messer (FMP, 1976) and Tuned Boots (FMP 1978), his trios with Irène Schweizer and Rüdiger Carl on saxophone, must not be forgotten either. A personal favorite of mine is Tern (FMP, 1983), his trio with Keith Tippett and Larry Stabbins on saxophone. But what is more, he was a great bandleader as well. Among his many recordings, Spirits Rejoice! (Ogun, 1978) certainly stands out. It’s his octet album with Harry Miller and John Dyani on bass, Keith Tippett on piano, Evan Parker on saxophone, Kenny Wheeler on trumpet, and Radu Malfatti and Nick Evans on trombone - a killer lineup that delivers everything it promises. A perfect example of his interest in teaming up with younger musicians is his quintet Five Blokes with Alexander Hawkins on piano, John Edwards on bass, and Jason Yarde and Shabaka Hutchings on saxes. Uplift the People (Ogun, 2018) is just a great album.

On June, 13th, the exceptional man died after a long illness. With this extraordinary drummer the last surviving member of the legendary Blue Notes has died. So, this also marks the end of a musical era. “Louis was more than a pioneering musician - he was a mentor and a friend. As a drummer, composer, and fearless voice for artistic freedom, Louis inspired generations through his groundbreaking contributions to South African and global jazz,“ the Moholo-Moholo family said in a statement.

“Spirits Rejoice!” the family concluded - a reference to the legendary octet album and a tribute to a life that has linked music and political resistance like few others. May he rest in peace.

Watch Louis Moholo-Moholo live with Irène Schweizer at the 29th outfit of the Unlimited Festival in Wels/Austria in 2015:

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