Introducing Flutist and Electronics Player Delphine Joussein

By Eyal Hareuveni

French flutist, electronics player, sound artist, and vocalist (and a professional sommelier) is a force of nature, with magnetic, commanding stage presence. She leads the trio NOUT (with electric harpist and percussionist Rafaelle Rinaudo and drummer Blanche Lafuente), plays in the FLÖJTER duo with Mats Gustafsson and in Gustafsson’s Fire! Orchestra, with fellow French drummer Edward Perraud’s Sauvages Paradis, and in the pan-European quartet Kabarila, and runs the Gigantonium label. She often plays on the theme of comfort and discomfort, and the process of building-deconstructing-rebuilding “that can take us into the best and the worst”.

Delphine Joussein CALAMITY - Calamities (Gigantonium, 2026)

Calamities is Joussein’s debut solo album, and the aptly titled name of this project captures her hyperactive essence, eager to push the flute as far as possible from its angelic-sounding image. Joussein has a mission: to extend and expand her instrument’s sonic palette with live electronics, pedals and effects, voice, and extended breathing and percussive techniques to the farthest sonic territories, possessed by an intense energy, poetic ideas, and restless need to create surprise and never limit her sonic horizons. She can match early music with free jazz, and distortion and noise with extreme metal, while using all parts of her flute. Gustafsson, who contributed liner notes to NOUT’s live album, added his liner notes here (“Watch out. Be afraid… play this album LOUD. VERY LOUD. Play it on RED. Sit back. Adjust your jaw. And SMILE. This music will hit you. It will hit you bad in-your-melted-face. The flute is back. It is alive”). The album was recorded in the fall of 2025 in the heart of a Pyrenean forest.

Joussein begins with the poetic “Balade with Olivier”, with lyrics by her late brother, Olivier Joussein (“There is far more violence in silence than in some spoken words. / Too much silence leaves not enough room for understanding…). She moves from a contemplative and mourning tone to the raw, left-off-centre song, matching her playful phrasing with the flute’s effects-heavy percussive sounds. The title piece is dedicated to Joussein’s three brothers and offers a dense and chaotic, electric, stormy wall of processed, noisy flute sounds with mutated vocals (the album was mixed and mastered by Norwegian noise master Lasse Marhaug), suddenly morphing into an acoustic melody, before ending with a brief noisy note. The following “Argent Massif” explores a similar tension between a gentle, acoustic melody and a brutal, electronics-heavy, frenzied abstraction of it. “Ma Flûte Et Mon Couteau” (My Flute and My Knife) keeps the noisy vibe and borrows lyrics from French symbolist writer Alfred Jarry (1873-1907), suggesting that the effects-enhanced flute is Joussein’s weapon. literally. Joussein deepens the revolutionary, subversive tone with fragmented, heavily processed chanting of “Sugar Chain”, now with a poem by 16th-century poet and political theorist Étienne or Estienne de La Boétie (“Tyrants, the more they plunder, the more they demand, / the more they ruin and destroy, / the more we give them, the more we serve them”). She concludes the album with an acoustic version of Charles Mingus’ iconic “Good Bye Pork Pie Hat”, compacted into her restless, intense sonic vision.

FLÖJTER - Brest Blow (Gigantonium, 2026)

Brest Blow is the second album of FLÖJTER (flutes in Swedish), the duo of Gustafsson (playing on flute, slide flute, spilåpipa, harmonica, live electronics, organ) and Joussein (on flute and electronics), following Paris Blow (Gigantonium, 2026). It was recorded live at Cabaret Vauban, during the Atlantique Jazz Festival in Brest in October 2025.

The aptly titled two pieces “Don’t forget to Die” and “Still breathing. Still breathing.” faithfully capture the uncompromising, radical commitment of these kindred spirits to exhaust all sonic possibilities of the silver flutes and melt their infinite sonic horizons into electric, high-voltage storms, psychedelic grooves, and heavy riffs. This is a passionate dance, often driven by Gustafsson’s complex love-hate relationship with the flute. It swings instantly, back and forth between innocent, reverent early music and brutal, noisy hurricanes (Marhaug did the mixing and mastering), or between free jazz, percussive usage of the flute keys, and raw noise. Joussein and Gustafsson let these sharp sonic frictions and collisions reign, dissolve, and coexist peacefully in a complete, risk-taking continuum that has its mysterious, powerful logic.

Delphine Joussein & Kit Downes - happy hurricanes (Gigantonium, 2026)

Joussein’s duo album with British, Berlin-based organist Kit Downes was recorded by pianist Marta Warelis at Luisenkirche in Berlin in February 2026. Joussein and Downes comment that when a flute and a pipe organ meet, everything is possible, but not in the way we may imagine (obviously, if you have not heard Joussein before).

As can be expected, the iconoclast Joussein and Downes (who also mixed the album) exploit not only the full sonic spectrum of their instruments - Joussein’s effects-enhanced flute and Downes’ 29 registers on a two-manual and pedal pipe organ - but also the reverberating, spacious church hall, driven by their love for the recurring theme of comfort, discomfort, comfort, discomfort, and so on until the bells ring. This is not the typical, reverent church music, but the four-part suite has its rare, seductive and lyrical beauty, often corresponding with minimalist contemporary music, punctuated by bursts of noise and surprising, brief grooves. Joussein and Downes call it an endless anthem to freedom.

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Markus Müller - Globe Unity 60 (FMP-Publishing, 2026)

By Paul Acquaro

While poring over Globe Unity 60 by FMP label head Marcus Müller, one begins to see the label itself as a central node in a larger nervous system. In his previous book, FMP – The Living Music, Müller told the story of Free Music Productions as both the chronicle of a record label and of an era marked by creative innovation and political tension. In this new volume, he turns his attention to one of the many strands extending from that center: a network that remains deeply connected to FMP while forging its own relationships and trajectories. Through it, we witness the exchange of ideas, influences, and energies that helped shape a significant chapter of European free music.

 

A collection of ephemera - gems really - from several different archives fill the books structure - these being FMP's own, as well as pianist and orchestra leader Alex von Schlippenbach’s, the legendary label MPS/Saba, ECM, Intakt and more. Album art, liner notes, reviews from scathing to laudatory, along with graphical scores and hand written notes festoon the pages. These are connected by essays and insights from people who were in the orchestra to those influenced deeply by it. 

 

Careful to say that his book is only one of the possible ways into the story and history the Globe Unity Orchestra, Müller offers some historic insights into the development of the group, starting with the commission from the Berlin Jazzfest's programmer Joachim Ernst Berendt in 1966 to its evolution in the 1970s to include, if not synthesize, the influences of co-organizers Peter Broetzmann and Peter Kowald, who injected some politics into the music, whereas Schlippenbach was focused on the music. We also learn of Schlippenbach’s main influence, Bernd Alois Zimmermann, a German composer and teacher of the pianist in Cologne whose own fusion of modern classical ideas, jazz and historic motifs are foundational to the works of Globe Unity. Müller lets the artifacts do a generous amount of the talking - reproductions from the archives follow, each liner-note and reflection offering its own biased and timely explanation of the orchestra.

 

Particularly interesting is the excerpt from Wolfgang Burde’s  “Materials on European Free Jazz” from the For Example book that accompanied the FMP box set released in 1978 documenting the Workshop Freie Musiks that took place at the Akademie Der Künste Berlin from ‘69 - ‘78. In his essay, Burde traces the development of the orchestra, from its learning to really let loose to later refinement and virtuosic playing. His review stops at the end of the 70’s, but we get an update in form of a retrospective look at Globe Unity from 1975 when it reformed in a smaller configuration due to budgetary limitations, as the Globe Unity Special. Liner notes for the release of Globe Unity ’75: Rumbling (FMP, 1991), discuss how other also influenced the group, citing the compositions from Misha Mengelberg, Steve Lacy and Evan Parker as showcasing the flexibility and free-jazz chops of the group. This release (actually a rerelease of the Evidence Vol 1 and Vol 2 LPs (FMP, 1975)) also feature one of Schlippenbach’s visitation to the well of Thelonious Monk - a continual source for him to this day - in his arrangement of the song ‘Evidence.’

 

An interview with Schlippenbach by journalist Maxi Broecking serves as a centerpiece for the book and really an introduction to what the pianist alludes to as probably the final performance of the orchestra in November of this year at Jazzfest Berlin and Cafe Oto in London. In these pages, one gets a sense of the heady concepts behind Schlippenbach’s music - the 12-tone serialism, the influence of Cecil Taylor, Ornette Coleman and Monk, but also the history of composers such as Krzysztof Penderecki and the contributions of colleagues like Evan Parker, Mengelberg and many others.  

 

After this, we visit the the ECM/JAPO years with reviews of  Improvisations (1978), Compositions (1980) and Interglactic Blow (1982) by Tyran Grillo (who has published his own book of reviews focusing on ECM), all three of which featured an even more international line-up of the group, including at various times trumpeters Enrico Rava, Kenny Wheeler and Toshinori Kon⁠⁠do, as well as trombonist George Lewis. The latter, in fact, is featured in an interview with Broecking that places the orchestra’s work in historical context as well as seeing connections with the AACM, saying “It’s not the same music, but it’s about the same thing: being free and open-minded.” John Corbet’s essay recalls the 1987 appearance of the orchestra at the Chicago Jazz festival in balanced words: acknowledging the challenges of the music, sound mix and audience, but also talking about how it influenced him to release many recordings on his own labels. 

 

There is much more to experience in the book, including commentary on the later releases on the Intakt record label as well as a dip into the work of the celebrated Schlippenbach Trio with Parker and drummer Paul Lovens. In the closing reflection from saxophonist Mats Gustafsson whose own vary large Fire! Orchestra is continuing in this musical space, taking its own mix of modern classical compositions, deep-funky riffs and free jazz explosions from festival to festival in Europe today. In it he states, “Inspiration for all of us, and especially anyone working with larger ensembles as a tool. Any and every large ensemble active now owes the Globe unity. Big time.“ 

 

The book is rich in images and texts, essays and reflections, offering both the Schlippenbach fan and the free jazz enthusiast a deep immersion into the world of music that a festival commission 60 years ago sparked. Thanks to Müller, whose sensitive curation skills and deep access to source materials, Globe Unity 60 book is an important and valuable artifact in its own right. Plus, it’s available just in time for holidays!

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Markus Müller - Globe Unity 60 (FMP-Publishing, 2026)

By Ferruccio Martinotti

Autumn 1966. Commissioned by Berlin Jazz Festival, pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach reassembles Gunter Hampel quartet with Manfred Schoof quintet and Peter Brotzmann trio: Globe Unity was born and the concept of large unit in jazz was established. The debut takes place on November 3rd at the Berliner Philharmonie, while, a few months later, Saba releases its eponymous debut album, a timeless milestone along the path of the music we love. As is well known, what seemed to be an on-and-off project begins to unfold over the decades, involving ever-new musicians in a global (indeed...) mobile perimeter: Anthony Braxton, Evan Parker, Steve Lacy, Paul Lovens, Enrico Rava, Kenny Wheeler and many others. To quote the Penguin Guide: "an incomparable, free music institution." Markus Müller's book Globe Unity 60 is being released these days on the label he runs, FMP, to mark the album's 60th anniversary and we truly can't imagine a more appropriate way to celebrate that seminal masterpiece. 

The FJC gave due prominence to the extraordinary Free Music Production-The Living Music (here and here), the unmissable compendium of a label that not only reflected the zeitgeist but also helped define it. Readers are therefore encouraged to jump on our colleagues' unsurpassed articles, perfectly suitable to pave the way for this brand new book. A brief note on the author. We're naturally accustomed to associating Müller with FMP, but it's worth highlighting the senior roles held at some of the most important international cultural institutions: the Venice Biennale, the Berlin Biennial, Documenta, the Paris Triennale, MOMA, and Expo Dubai, to name just a few. 

The mindset of such a high-profile curator shines through in this latest editorial project as well. The book kicks off with the genesis of the Globe Unity, offering a timely historical-cultural contextualization of those days, following it in its artistic and geographical development: then Globe Unity ‘67 + ‘70; 1968 - 1978 Wuppertal; the Japo period and the twentieth anniversary; the crucial liaison with Chicago (John Corbett's notes are here essential, as usual); the Intakt and the 40th, 50th and 60th anniversaries. The interviews with George E. Lewis and Alexander von Schlippenbach are worth the price of admission alone, while of great interest is the focus placed by Müller on the Berlin musician's two most relevant projects besides Unity: the trio with Paul Lovens and Evan Parker, the duo with Sven-Ake Johansson. The documentary content is rounded out with liner notes, albums’ and concerts’ reviews, while the iconographic richness is impossible to resist: pictures, studio notes, posters, record covers, flyers and scores are sheer, jaw dropping bonanza. Could Mats Gustafsson be left out? Certainly not, and up to him are the final notes that cap off this peerless book, an absolute gem, not only for compulsive completists, but for every genuine music lover. 

 

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Tania Giannouli & Nik Bärtsch - Metakosmos (Fuga Libera, 2026)

By Stef Gijssels

When the two worlds of pianists Tania Giannouli from Greece and Nik Bärtsch from Switzerland meet, musical fireworks can be expected. Giannouli has been praised before on this blog, and more specifically for her recent collaboration with the Amir ElSaffar's New Quartet. Her musical style is very lyrical, meditative and gentle, and the quote “This music invites the listener to dream of eternity" captures her music's essence well. Bärtsch has a totally different approach, very percussive, repetitive, reductionist, and the quote "Ecstasy through asceticism" suits his style well.

The collision of these two approaches leads to something phenomenal on this album: deeply eclectic, working with musical legacy of classical, folk music and jazz, their minimal approach, their technical skills on their instruments create a kind of musical universe of rhythmic lyricism in which both musicians feel fully at ease, despite the incredible complexities of the pieces they play. 

Bärtsch likes to describe his compositions as a musical space, with clearly defined boundaries yet in which the improvisor can move freely: "The music shows a close affinity to architecturally organized space and is governed by the principles of repetition and reduction as well as by interlocking rhythms. A piece of music can be entered, inhabited like a room. It moves forward and transforms through obsessive circular movements, superimposition of different meters and micro-interplay. The listeners attention is directed toward minimal variations and phrasing". 

The result is intoxicating—not only because each of the eight tracks possesses such a distinct character, but also because of the seamless way their voices blend together. The music moves from the meditative Willow Wind to the playful Intonal, from the sensitivity of Electric Sea to the drama of Then When, and from the hypnotic repetitions of Glass Labyrinth to the sheer intensity of Door 13/Pink Athens. Yet despite this remarkable stylistic range, the album remains strikingly cohesive, with a sound entirely its own that captivates from beginning to end.

This music is special. It is not jazz or free improvisation, but it requires the right ears to fully appreciate, and those ears are found on this blog. 

Enjoy!

Listen and download from Bandcamp. 

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Jazz em Agosto, 42nd edition (Part 2)

Anna Webber 5Tet. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

By David Cristol

Sometimes music comes alive, well, live. The complex compositions by Anna Webber (tenor sax, bass flute), making ample use of just intonation, are presented in a way that makes them palatable, open and fetching rather than amounting to a dry musicological treatise. It's the same quintet as on the Shimmer Wince album from two years ago: Adam O'Farrill (tp), Mariel Roberts (cello), Lesley Mok (dm), Elias Stemeseder   (keys) serve the leader's weird orchestrations from that album as well as new ones in the same vein. There is something Threadgillian (as in Henry) about Webber's studies in rhythmical, timbral and tonal relationships, resulting in out of tune instrumental associations that challenge listeners' habits and perception. Stemeseder's crispy synth bass lines help holding the edifice together, in a discreete but essential role, while Mok's beats unfold without ornaments or a trace of eccentricity. It's up to the winds and cello to give flexibility to the whole affair with sagacious solos that manage to sound both relaxed and intense. An atmospheric tour-de-force starts with the imitation of a foghorn by tenor and trumpet and evolves into a slowly mutating creation. A piece is titled after the ecological concern of water - a legit worry further explored in Webber's recent It's Easier to Imagine the end of the World... album. Her finger firmly on the pulse of the times, she also resorts to extended techniques, and her construct is apt to please those enamored with the notated page as much as aficionados of the free religion. 

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters gets straight down to business upon entering the stage, blasting open the portals to hell. Turntablist Mariam Rezaei and piccolo trumpeter, modular synth wizard and vocalist Gabriele Mitelli stand behind an elevated table, with alto saxophonist Mette Rasmussen and merciless drummer Lukas Koenig (also using a synth) closer to the audience. Mitelli spouts echo-drenched vocals. The clear, elongated wails rising from Ramussen's sax make her appear as a residual voice of humanity amidst outstanding urban chaos, struggling to make sense and stay sane against a barrage of madness, rage and information overload, searching for the truth among media fog and widespread confusion. She also provides the main jazz element through her phrasing, and dances with a hand-held shaker. Although TSORPM's sets are improvised, some of the material previews the quartet's new album Reason, recorded prior to the Lisbon date but released after, on Chicago label Corbett Vs. Dempsey. Mitelli's staccato outpourings and Rasmussen's soaring lines are sampled in real time by Reazei and fed back into the mix. A measure of the group's loudness is the fact that the planes flying low over the stage, a minor nuisance at other gigs, aren't even noticed. A few bejewelled patrons flee in terror. It's not all punishing noise though, and short, sporadic lulls point to an interesting direction that could be explored further. 

Pat Thomas. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

After seeing Pat Thomas in a variety of groupings - notably at Jazz em Agosto, on piano or electronic devices - this solo performance feels like a pared down, distillation of his concepts. Without an introduction, the pianist proceeds to tap into his fertile imagination, his display of musical poetry quickly drawing everyone in. The feel is spontaneous, although part of the repertoire seems to originate in the 2025 album Hikmah. Thomas's style is wonderfully idiosyncratic, even as echoes of Monk, Ellington, Waldron are heard. The gaze is focused on the keys. We're led through an absorbing saga, and from the first note to the last the audience holds their collective breath, soaking in the sounds and designs, from pearly pushes to novel strains, delicate left and right hand flurries to forceful two-fisted clusters. The ostinati cells Thomas deploys are considered rather than obsessive or stubborn. His expressive music has a literary quality, if such a thing is possible. It is in turns or simultaneously rhythmic, abstract, spiritual, down-to-earth, and visionary. One doesn't encounter such beauty every day. An undisputed highlight, after Kühn's markedly different but equally enthralling solo piano set. 

The most in-demand drummer/vibraphonist of the past 15 years, Ches Smith is heard in two quartets, both on the outdoors stage. First, he brings his celebrated Clone Row project to play music from the 2025 album and its upcoming follow-up, and then, he appears as a key performer in a multikulti grouping by Tomas Fujiwara. 

Clone Row. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

Around Smith, Clone Row is Liberty Ellman and Mary Halvorson on guitars, and Nick Dunston on bass and sci-fi sounds toy. The guitar-knitting, both together and separately, astounds. The complicated writing is played with the utmost precision. Halvorson uses her trademark wavy effects with more temperance than a few years ago. It's a treat to hear Ellman live; a member of Henry Threadgill's Zooid and author of worthwhile albums in his own name, he's too rarely seen on European stages. Players' faces are absorbed by the scores, the eyebrows frowned. Seasoned performers all, but concentration remains paramount with every new venture, especially in a field where pushing the boundaries and broadening the spectrum of possibilities is part of the ethos. Over devilish electronic beats, Clone Row offers tight rhythmic structures (odd or straight-ahead depending on the piece), busy melodic lines and changes, ligntning-quick interactions, and manages to emerge with a completely organic feel. Clone Row is a monster that necessitates multiple listens to fully grasp (read Aloysius Ventham's review for enlightenment). The future is now. 

Dream Up. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

Dream Up is an unusual quartet that, in Lisbon, has Kaoru Watanabe on taiko drums, high-pitched Japanese flutes and yodel, Ches Smith on vibraphone and congas, Kweku Sumbry (heard with Charles Lloyd) on djembe, balafon, kora, whispering and singing, and leader Tomas Fujiwara on "jazz" drum set. It's a much quieter and reflexive affair than Clone Row. A quadrilogue of percussion and wind instruments from various continents, drawing upon distinct traditions - from East, West, South, and more. Each player uses a specific set of tools, sticks, materials, that result in as many timbres; each one gets plenty of opportunities to shine, alone and in diverse manners of associations. The vibraphone's resonance brings an ethereal, otherwordly quality while other instruments evoke an earthly grounding. Well-delineated rhythmic ideas and a modal approach are often favored. Tuned skins, wood and metal participate in the melodic enunciations of the flute and vibes. Fujiwara's felt sticks are applied to the drums with infinite care, while Watanabe's huge taiko drums are hit with indomitable strength. Talkative frogs from the pond behind the stage blend in just fine with music that speaks to the cosmos as much as to the audience. 

Chicago Underground Duo. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

Since the launch of Chicago Underground duo in 1998, Chad Taylor (drums, mbira) and Rob Mazurek (trumpets, vocals, electronics) have reconvened in this and other formats : trio, quartet and larger bands such as Pharoah and the Underground, which two albums were recorded live at Jazz em Agosto. For this program dubbed Hyperglyph, video backdrops are projected on a big screen, jumpy images of rivers and rain, plant life, fast moving shadows and shapes, pixellated landscapes complementing the music. Mazurek alternates between bouts of blowing (catchy riffs and melodic fragments rather than elaborate developments), chanting, and crafting bass patterns, rudimentary chords and stiff beats from a plugged device, which Taylor fleshes out. The DIY modus operandi aims for immediacy, and the rather flimsy material is made up by sheer energy deployment. So far, so diverting but we're in for a surprise, as an unannounced James Brandon Lewis appears from behind the curtain. The tenorman made a stop between engagements in Sienna and Oslo, and endeavours to solo and trade lines with Mazurek in the incandescent fashion he's known for, giving the set a literal and figurative second wind. Lewis is of course familiar with Taylor who's a member of his quartet. Maybe establishing a tradition of having guest performers join them, the duo invited Darius Jones and Gerald Cleaver to be part of their Jazzfestival Saalfelden date a few days later. 

SML.Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

And it's already the last day in convivial Lisbon before returning to the French furnace. SML - for Small Medium Large - hail from L.A., benefit from a fair amount of hype and already are a festivals' favorite (they played Paris' Sons d'hiver in January and will be opening Poland's Jazztopad next). The repetition-minded, cosily groovy quintet provides the edition's closing act. Drummer Booker Stardrum, electric bassist Anna Butterss, synth player Jeremiah Chiu, saxophonist Josh Johnson and guitarist Gregory Uhlmann form a musical commune, outside of traditionally hierarchical organizations and song structures. Their seemingly leaderless approach appears consistently equalitarian, each member operating in the service of the whole, with no one attempting to single themselves out. Tellingly, there are no solos. The procedure bears similarities with Joshua Abrams' Organic Music Society, without the spiritual decorum. The elements gel in sync, evolve almost imperceptibly, the head-nodding aesthetic relying on laid-back, unobtrusive bass lines, detached, characterless sax emissions and restrained playing from all. It succeeds at what it aims to do, which is already a measure of success, with a lack of urgency, divergence or surprises as the downside. Without much in the way of changes, the slick surface appeal of the rhythm-led jam stagnates and only sustains momentum and interest for halfway through its excessive 80+ minutes duration. Concertgoers should check SML out however and forge their own opinion. Jazz em Agosto offers such a scope of acts - and as many musical strategies - that a diversity of assessments on the receiving end is inevitable, which is a good thing, a basis for debate and a weapon against rampant attempts at standardizing culture.

See Part 1 here 

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Jazz em Agosto, 42nd edition 2026 (Part 1)

By David Cristol

Jazz em Agosto took place over ten days in the heart of the summer, with a bold programming that has become the norm for the manifestation. Stellar line-ups and excellent listening conditions make the festival a favorite of audiences, artists and critics. With 14 concerts and the aim of "presenting the current creative and original state of jazz" according to artistic director Rui Neves, this year's edition was another winner. 

 

Joachim Kühn. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

The opening act was set in the big auditorium of the Gulbenkian Foundation. The supreme venue, which stage stands in front of large glass walls overlooking the Foundation's gardens with wildlife, previously welcomed ensembles by Nicole Mitchell, Nate Wooley, XT, as well as the Sylvie Courvoisier/Cory Smythe duo, and Shane Parish solo. The striking architecture gives an extra layer of grandeur to a rare solo performance by pianist Joachim Kühn, who was involved in all the developments of jazz since the 1960s. It's a celebration of the piano. He kicks things off with a 40-minute abstract improvisation. His stream-of-consciousness extemporizations initially owe more to classical music motions and impulses than to the jazz vocabulary, but prove terrific all the same, as his cavalcades of notes take the audience on a spontaneous and heartfelt journey, not relying on any trusted tricks or routines. What follows increasingly leans into free jazz territory. Kühn doesn't need a formal structure to let his ideas flow. Clear-cut melodies are eschewed in favor of waves and cells, forays into microscopic ruminations, dark lullabies and brooding ad-libs, slowly but surely leading to epic flights. The music shape-shifts, and goes in virtually any direction. No high concept, no extramusical discourse and no filler. It seems as if the fingers have a mind of their own, without ideas being filtered by the brain. As a double encore, we get two songs by Ornette Coleman : "Somewhere" and "Researching has no limits"- that title pretty well summing up the performance.

David Maranha and Rodrigo Amado. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

Day two starts with a duo of Lisbon-based artists, David Maranha and Rodrigo Amado. They join forces in the great-sounding auditorium 2, the indoors venue where the more experimental gigs take place in the late afternoons. Theirs is not a first encounter but a continued exploration, as evidenced on 2024's Wrecks and 2026's Desolation Row albums, both recommended to readers of this blog and with liner notes by master Stuart Broomer accompanying the newest title. An interesting tension arises from the association of Amado's jazz vocabulary and Maranha's electric organ and effects that build modal soundscapes and ambient layers for the tenor saxophonist to improvise, spout swirling motifs, throw raucous darts, focus on one repeated note or long-held growls, investigating the whole instrument's range in the spirit of freedom he's accustomed listeners to. Although the uninterrupted set doesn't seem to have a beginning, end or arc, it sustains interest throughout and is met with a standing ovation. 

Canyon. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

Another bona fide improvised set follows on the outdoors stage. A particularly exciting one for this listener, who sees Joe Morris live for the first time, after having enjoyed his recordings, on both bass and guitar, alongside well-known players as well as young talent, for a couple decades. It's Canyon's second gig only. The New York quartet, made up of Jerome Deupree (drums, of 1990s band Morphine and a colleague of Morris since 1985), Sylvie Courvoisier (prepared and unprepared piano), Lester St. Louis (cello) and Morris (double bass), have a self-titled double CD out on Fundacja Słuchaj. Morris was the honoree at this year's Vision Festival in June of this year. Total improv is always a risky endeavour, a collective walk on a tightrope. Courvoisier and St. Louis are extrovert players, the former digging into her repository of techniques and signature moves (percussive clangs, swarms of notes, playing on the strings to get a harpsichord-like sound...), the latter supplying creaks at breaking point and harmonics-filled glissandi, while the bass and drums pair maintain a collected, counter-spectacular bearing, Deupree a paragon of restraint on his instrument and Morris quietly connecting the dots and steering the ship. The initial scattering gradually gives way to keen mutual listening from band members, intent on making each other sound good without relinquishing their distinct temperaments. Once balance is found, there is nowhere the quartet can't go, with seamless transitions from busy waves to sparse lulls, impressionnistic sequences to rhythmical ones. A piano-less trio segment also engagingly reshuffles the deck for a while.

Shardik. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

A John Zorn-produced venture, Shardik is the brainchild of guitarist/composer Matt Hollenberg (Simulacrum), and brings a punk-funk spin on the metal-jazz genre, boasting bands such as Kilter and Imperial Triumphant and of which an early incarnation were Secret Chiefs 3, of which Hollenberg is now a member. Bubbly bass, heavy riffs, more bounce than your average kangaroo tribe, and themes that owe something to Zorn's Bagatelles, Masada and Dreamers songbooks. Not surprising considering how closely Hollenberg is involved with Manhattan's main magus - most currently with the Flatlands trio. Another obvious influence is that of the Mahavishnu Ochestra. Around Hollenberg are Sana Nagano on oddly-shaped electric violin, Nick Jost on electric bass and Danny Sher on drums. At times the music gels into delicious psychedelic concoctions - only for short spells though, for the imported, competitive New York ethos means hitting hard and running to the next phase without delay. However, the outdoors setting gives the whole thing a different perspective than the same music played in a Brooklyn club; Hollenberg savours the configuration where audience and band are united as in a ritual. Indeed this is no place for superficial consumerism, and the music is lent a sacred function with attendees ready to be moved, elevated, maybe changed. The song-length tunes are tightly organized, with sharp turns and millimetric cues. An athletic feat for the performers, with plenty of challenges to tackle. Not revolutionary maybe, but damn enjoyable, with the egoless relationship between members also working in the music's favor. The full Cruelty Bacchanal album is played, plus tunes from the previous album and an improvisation as the last number. Hollenberg is surprised at the request for an encore, New York audiences seemingly having enough after shorter sets! 

Fred Moten & Brandon Lopez. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

Next up is the politically aware duo of thinker and poet Fred Moten and bassist Brandon Lopez. Double bass with poetry reading is a rare sight, at least for European audiences, but it belongs to an age-old US tradition going back to Lenny Bruce, Jack Kerouac and the Beat poets encounters with jazzmen, from the 1940s onwards. The fact that Sonny Stitt and Zoot Sims are namechecked reinforces that connection. After all, jazz and poetry are a meaningful combination of two rebellious, social-conscious artforms. A pair of bongos stands between both artists and they caress it with the palm of the hand or give it finger taps, while also coaxing sounds from the double bass, humming along in the case of Lopez and triggering foley sounds and jazz samples from a laptop, as sound signifiers, for Moten. The lyrics are laden with references to jazzmen and jazz tunes as well as early hip-hop wordsmiths. The delivery is low-key, poised, with a slightly ironical distance. The bass adapts to the mood and rhythm of the words, and provides punctuation. The abstruse or metaphorical character of the texts makes it difficult to fully grasp their meaning in one listen. But they also work as purely sonic elements, reaching ears and minds. In addition to playing the bass in orthodox fashion, Lopez generates murmurs by polishing the wood of its body. A fearless programming choice typical of Jazz em Agosto and one of this edition's best. 

L.U.M.E. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

L.U.M.E. aka Lisbon Underground Music Ensemble is a well-oiled machine which 20th-year celebration offers a pot-pourri of the Ensemble's history, without a perceivable unifying theme or statement of intent. It encompasses everything from early jazz to 1970s jazz-rock, disco and Steve Reich repetition, the whole thing as remote from 2026 trends as it gets, and heedless to the world's turmoil. Fine soloists bring the colorful, light-hearted, sometimes openly comedic arrangements to life, with leader/composer/pianist/keyboardist Marco Barroso conducting improvised ensemble passages with a sure hand.

Bonbon Flamme. Photo by Petra Cvelbar - Gulbenkian Música

In the Fifties and Sixties, Dave Brubeck came back from world tours with a series of "Impressions" albums - from the U.S.A., New York, Japan and Eurasia. Likewise, French cellist Valentin Ceccaldi came back from a trip to Mexico with flavors, tones and textures in mind, which inspired him to found the quartet Bonbon Flamme with a team of like-minded players to serve his polychromatic purpose. What we get amounts to a European version of Tropicalia, with the help of Lisbon guitar-hero Luis Lopes, free agent keyboardist Fulco Ottervanger and jittery drummer Etienne Ziemniak. Ceccaldi also admits to a passion for Alan Shorter's Orgasm, which might give another clue as to the unlabelable hodgepodge unveiled. Feathery downtempo numbers and ecstatic rock workouts share an intoxicating psychedelic bent, that makes use of simple riffs, crackling synthesizer sounds, twangy effects, disorienting arrangements with initial structural landmarks blurring and disappearing into floriferous freeform jams. Solos are short and enmeshed in the compositions. A hypnotizing voyage, with an immaculate first half-hour, and final song "Tres Calaveras" a climax - a pensive guitar-cello vehicle, with Ottervanger's high-pitched, wordless vocals turning it into a musical cousin of Hermeto Pascoal's moody "Little Church". The charged, raspy rock forays, hallucinogenic abstractions as well as the infinitely tender pieces are nothing short of greatness. However, the spell is temporarily endangered by a couple tongue-in-cheek pieces, with cutesy synth sounds and attempts at cartoonish humor. This caveat notwithstanding, a brilliant set.

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Anthony Braxton 4tet - Live in Châteauvallon 1973

Here’s Anthony Braxton from 1973 playing with a quartet featuring the late, great trumpeter Kenny Wheeler, with Jean-François Jenny-Clark on bass and Charles "Bobo" Shaw on drums. They are performing Braxton’s compositions 23C, B and D. The first is one of Braxton’s wonderfully knotty yet hummable compositions and the rest of the band happily keeps pace.

There’s lots of space for improvisation, with Braxton playing his usual wide variety of horns. Kenny Wheeler is a delight to hear in any setting and he seems to love playing these Braxton compositions. The video gets bonus marks for Braxton’s 70s sideburns which are truly a thing of beauty.

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Antoine Chessex & Dave Phillips - Vrhaltnis (Coherent States-Krim Kram Records, 2026)

By Fotis Nikolakopoulos

Coming, both artists, from different fields of sound and audio making, one might ask why this recording is being presented here. Of course this is never an easy answer, but having to defend my choice, I’d say that the key word is improvisation. Not as a genre on its own, one that should define the sound produced by those two sound makers. Predominantly as a way of thinking, a practice that involves rethinking of old material and producing new only by being open to what will happen next.

Both artists, Antoine Chessex and Dave Phillips, have a long history in sound making (I would like to insist in this term rather than music making) and a long standing friendship too. They have been exchanging ideas and playing together for the past twenty years. Actually the source material for the two tracks consisting this CD, dates back two decades ago from a live performance in, and some studio time, in Switzerland.

Coming to the key word for this release, one that also involves chance, this material was reworked and manipulated in such a way that what is new and what is old, in terms of sound, is impossible to distinguish. Obviously and always there’s a lot of hard work behind all this, behind trying to present something new. One could say that this release borders at what we call noise, but this is the 21 ^st century and who can really tell or put exact limits on what we are listening? It could also be musique concrete. When Albert Ayler was blowing his sax, wasn’t it called non-music or, even, “noise”?

The two tracks unfold in a non linear way, denying, I believe, the gestures of time keeping (“what is old and what is new” exactly) or what is normal when you listen to a recording. They tend to breathe in and out, like inhaling sounds and exhaling sentiments, morphing, as you listen more and more, into a shapeless entity that has only sound in its definition. No genre, label or whatever else pins down free expression. Totally liberated in many ways.

Listen here:
 

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Sopie Duner & Anthony Coleman - Messed Up Stride (Urlicht AudioVisual, 2026)

By Sammy Stein 

Sophie Duner has released albums both as a solo artist and alongside names including Gene Ptirsker, Jeremy Harman, and Dominic Duval, as well as with the Callino Quartet. Her musical style is eclectic, and while she remains rooted in jazz, her free-wheeling and versatile talent means she can switch to almost any genre.

On her album Messed Up Stride, Duner teams with pianist Anthony Coleman, a well-known avant-garde pianist who worked with John Zorn on several projects in the 1980s and 90s. He has been in groups Sephardic Tinge and Selfhaters and has been involved in many projects across the world.

The PR describes this as a ‘fearless album,’ and it is that. It was recorded at Atlantis Studios, Stockholm, the studio behind ABBA's "Waterloo," "Dancing Queen," and "Mamma Mia."

About the recording, Duner comments, “‘ Messed-Up Stride’ is the result of a musical vision I’ve had in mind for quite some time. I’m really grateful that pianist Anthony Coleman picked up on my idea for these slightly twisted, stride-inspired tunes! We certainly had fun recording them.”

Duner has worked on some of the compositions for 15 years, and in Coleman she comments, “He really sounds like an entire group. He was exactly the pianist I needed."

The music draws on Charles Mingus, Eric Mingus, George Antheil, Charles Ives, Scott Joplin, John Zorn, Fats Waller, Marc Ribot, and more. The album delivers songs that are pointed, witty, inimitable, and memorable– and nothing that you would expect given the influences. Duner and Coleman seemingly delight in taking themes, rotating them, adding snippets from familiar jazz numbers, and adding their twist. Coleman maintains a (more or less) traditional ingredient with steadfast backing, rhythmic pattern, and some really well-worked solo work, which tempers Duner, who is often off on a journey of her own – yet, despite this, she never loses the connection with what Coleman is doing in his interpretations.

‘Mad World’ is a wonderful opener and exploration of vocal techniques and range. Duner’s character shines like a laser, while her voice soars and dips in seemingly chaotic but actually thoughtful, controlled ways. The track was inspired by the Bulgarian Voices Choir and is a story of contrasts – bitter burning sweet, and chaos finding its groove. Duner’s voice is mesmerising, but couple that with rolling, thunderous, deeply textured piano from Coleman, and it is no wonder this track hits home and engages like an electric charge to the brain. There are gentle phrases too, which contrast beautifully with the tuneful, throaty rasps that Duner delivers.

In Contrast, ‘Two Rabbits on Wall Street’ is a staccato-laced, forcefully delivered number with sudden outlets of energy and rivulets of scat, all across some hearty and well-honed boogie woogie, amongst other styles, which Coleman switches in and out of in mercurial ease. This polytonal number in 9/4 was inspired by porcelain rabbits sold on Wall Street – a meditation on the illusion of money as magic. Frenetic, polytonal, and arrhythmic at times, this is a wonderful number.

‘Better Get Hit In Your Soul’ features a solo intro from Coleman before he settles into a bluesy, rhythmic pattern, across which Duner scats and muses, across Coleman’s now stride style as he pounds left-hand rhythms across the keyboard. Those rhythms are familiar, as this number is a cover of Mingus’s work. Duner studied with Eric Mingus, so no wonder the Mingus touch is there, affected so respectfully by Coleman. Dener’s voice is shown in its instrumental glory on this number.

‘Complicated Love Affair’ is aptly named for its changeable musical concepts, but what stands out is Dener’s voice – she purrs, she slides and glides, and her range is over three octaves here – from chest voice to operatic virtuosity, she delivers with aplomb across Coleman’s empathic playing.

‘Watch Your Pitch Bitch’ is a slightly deranged number delivered with tongue-in-cheek sassiness, and Coleman definitely feels the energy on this one, delivering perfectly timed counterpoint chords, while ‘Mad Monk’ is a gorgeous play on Monkish themes, that bass line working hard, over which Duner’s vocals float like a madcap whirlwind. A brilliant number.

‘I Ain't Taking Orders From No One’ is as feisty as it sounds, and Duner delivers brilliantly, while Coleman maintains a calming influence in his gentler riffs and rhythm patterns.

‘Post Traumatic Ripoff’ was inspired by the changing world we live in and the emotional costs of being taken advantage of. Duner lets rip, duetting with herself, in this strangely cathartic number.

‘Reharmonized Boyfriend’ is sharp, contrasting with softer phrases, and was inspired by the everlasting circle of relationships and going back to routine.

This album is a beautifully delivered concept and shows how two musicians from different arenas can come together to create something special. Coleman’s sense of rhythm, alongside Duner’s eclectic but somehow cohesive music-making skills, creates an engaging sense of involvement. The recording does what so many truly good recordings do, and that is, they deliver music that offers the listener layers – first it sounds chaotic, then the realisation of the way they work in contrast and also harmony hits until the deep connection between the musicians is clear.

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Henry Threadgill’s Zooid - Cut You Where You Was (Pi Recordings, 2026)

By Brian Earley

 

Recorded history may be a boon to humanity, but it has also benefited the privileged. How many stories have fallen silent once all witnesses have passed away? Even more troubling is the reality that many of the earliest recordings, both in writing and in audio, fell to those who were privileged enough to have access to time, education, and materials. If you were taught how to write and read, and happened to be near paper, say in 4000 BCE Asia or 150 BCE Greece, you may have had the historical honor of writing something down. In the United States at the dawn of the audio recording industry, a box of two or three wax cylinders might cost you $15 apiece, depending on what inflation calculator you use. This is to say nothing of the price of the recording or playback equipment involved. If you didn’t have the cash, you weren’t going to be recording anything unless somebody who did have the cash wanted to make a profit off of recording you.

 

And all of this only begins the discussion I think Henry Threadgill is most interested in on the Zooid’s latest release Cut You Where You Was. The notes on the Pi Recordings website say that Threadgill is fascinated by early audio recording processes. One of the most notable of these qualities is the frustratingly short duration available for each recording. You don’t think Louis Armstrong didn’t want to stretch out on those Hot Fives Chicago takes?

 

So, here we are in 2026 with digital recording and what can sometimes feel like an overabundance of preserved information. A musician who has access to these tools, has recorded numerous legendary works, has released a high-profile book on his life, and has won the Pulitzer Prize, uses his platform to explore what might happen if you have something important to say, but have limited technology to preserve that statement.

 

Cut You Where You Was, while containing two songs in the six to ten minute range, features some of the Zooid’s shortest pieces to date. Five of the ten tracks do not even reach the two minute mark. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing the first full listen I completed of the album. Seriously, I thought a glitch had occurred, because there was no way that, say “Lightnin’,” the eighth song on the album, was only one and a half minutes long.

 

What I find fascinating about this album is what it does with these self-imposed, self-conscious, music-socio-exploratory limitations.

 

Listen, for example, to a trio of works titled “Bingo.” Each track, labeled “Part 1,” “Part 2,” and “Part 3” clearly are intended to be understood as one set, three parts to one work. Threadgill, who uses his flute to spend “Part 1” interacting delicately with tuba player Jose Davila and guitarist Liberty Ellman, sounds all but cut-off when the work ends around the 2:10 mark. “Part 2” then picks up with the band approaching full tilt, with flute, tuba and guitar much more kinetic. To me, it feels like I have missed something, the development between these two sections is gone. “Part 3” then opens with Threadgill on an insistent percussive alto sax. Now drummer Elliot Humberto Kavee produces thundering rolls on toms and Christopher Hoffman saws away on cello. Where did this new energy and altered instrumentation come from? The music, beautiful as it may be, seems like it has had sections gone unrecorded until the engineer replaced the new wax cylinder or fed the new tape into the four track machine. 

 

This brevity, in turn, allows listeners to perceive just how much is missed with “Red Admiral Red Moon Rising.” Cutting the album directly in half at track number five, “Red Moon” is the most expansive of these new works and lasts over twelve minutes. The piece features gorgeously lyrical cello work by Hoffman, who uses variations of Threadgill’s intervallic compositional system to paint a single line that eventually sweeps across the sonic atmosphere until it chortles into a section of staccato bow strokes and a final downward glissando that Threadgill echoes when he follows with his own solo. So much of Threadgill’s solo speaks back to Hoffman that I wonder if large sections have been written out. If so, their voices mimic a conversation among close friends. If improvised, their voices are a conversation among close friends. Ellman then enters with a guitar solo, also closely mirroring the melodic and rhythmic material from the saxophone solo. It turns out that when intelligent voices are given a chance to speak, they have important information to relay. 

 

The eighth Zooid album, falling some twenty-five years after the band’s first recording Up Popped The Two Lips, demonstrates again just how much music Threadgill has in him and how clearly intricate and malleable the intervallic system of composing and improvising can be. This is far more than some academic exercise for a panel of Columbia jurors. Cut You Where You Was allows listeners to examine what happens when voices are silenced and to witness what is missing when these voices fully enter the conversation. And if one needs any more evidence that this is an important document, one can simply look at how many voices have been officially cut out of the conversation in the United States in just the month that has followed the record’s August 2026 release. Cut You Where You Was has already proven prescient. And, despite the trenchant insight of its art, I wish it were less so. 

 

Cut You Where You Was can be heard here: 

 

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