Jazz em Agosto / Lisbon, August 1-10 (3/3)

By David Cristol

Days 8 → 10  (See part 1, part 2)

Different strokes for different frogs

Shane Parish. Photo Petra Cvelbar – Gulbenkian Música

Alone in front of a large audience, looking even more relaxed than the previous evening, Shane Parish tunes his acoustic guitar. He begins with Ornette Coleman’s « Lonely Woman » which also opens the album Repertoire. The performance differs from the album version, in the way the theme is stated and where the accents are placed. Most of the pieces last around three minutes, sometimes less than two ; a couple are developed at greater length. The fingers sliding on the metal strings are very noticeable in the sound spectrum, to the point that they become part of the music. Parish’s style is crystal-clear, mostly without effects, except for two specific pieces. He has a consummate sense of pace, and a keen knack for audio storytelling. Each cover has a mood of its own, from the English ballad « She Moves Through the Fair » to Alice Coltrane's « Ptah the El-Daoud » which isn't on the album – a welcome surprise! The composition is stripped down to its basic shape and melody, without embellishments. The instinctive and elastic handling of dynamics reminds of blues players. Disarmingly simple tunes are intertwined with others more demanding for both player and listeners. Interpretations of Alice Coltrane’s « Journey in Satchidananda » (enriched with oriental ornaments, suiting the atmosphere of the original), Charles Mingus's « Pithecanthropus erectus », « It's you I like » by Fred Rogers, « Serenade to a cuckoo » by Roland Kirk, all make sense. Some tracks ask for a special tuning or detuning of the guitar. A standing ovation rewards the artist. As an encore he chooses « I'm going away », a fitting title to end a show with, in the Americana vein. We’re not getting Sun Ra’s twisted « Lights on a satellite » that closes the album. A pleasant aspect is the absence of style hierarchies, each composition chosen for a reason, whether it’s a melodic line that just sounds good, or a flexible blueprint that Parish sculpts as he sees fit.

Thumbscrew. Photo Petra Cvelbar – Gulbenkian Música

It’s been a hot day, especially for musicians having a soundcheck outdoors in the middle of the afternoon, and bass player Michael Formanek, now of the Lisbon scene, appears focused on the scores. His partners are similarly absorbed. No introductory talk, no attempt at a connection with the audience, no presentation of the material. Only music, until the "end credits". The compositions are shared between members of the group (each one a leader of other projects, and frequent allies in those), yet the sound is cohesive and belongs to Thumbscrew. Much of the same material as heard at Hamburg’s Elbphilharmonie in the winter (as part of the Marc Ribot-curated Reflektor weekend) is performed, but it doesn’t feel like a repeat. Not because the season and location are different, but because the compositions are played differently, a clue as to the trio’s modus operandi which is to push the music ever forward, with contempt for routine. We’re talking about some of the most endlessly inventive and skilled musicians of our time. After some guitar loops from Mary Halvorson, we get into the melodies (unorthodox as they may be) and forms. The pedal-triggered sound warps and varied techniques of Halvorson add an extra layer of challenge for listeners to grasp the already oddly organized contours. Drummer Tomas Fujiwara plays vibraphone on some pieces, changing the color of the trio in the process. Stellar solos are set to equally astute accompaniment. A fiery drums and guitar duo brings us onto unexpected noise territory. Each new piece proves equally surprising, no small feat for a jazz trio.

Elias Stemeseder. Photo Petra Cvelbar – Gulbenkian Música

In the Grand Auditorium, more incredibleness awaits with the Austrian-German duet of Elias Stemeseder (harpsichord, p, elec), Christian Lillinger (dm) and a key third man in sound engineer Marco Pulidori to support and maybe expand on their album Antumbra. The venue is in complete darkness except for the stage. Strobing lights and projected abstractions prevent from taking notes ; all that’s left to do is to enjoy the trip. And a trip it is. The lighting and cyclorama projections make players and instruments in turn disappear and reappear in quick flashes. The visuals, courtesy of Lillinger, are made of vertical stripes, squares and other eye-confusing devices that would make Maurits Cornelis Escher proud. This is a dizzying, loss of orientation-inducing work. Are we in outer space or, on the contrary, hearing through a microscope ? How the duo can perform such uncommon and kinetic music is a challenge to understanding. Their working methods are opaque but it’s obvious that the achievement rests on their close relationship and agreement as much on their individual skills. Through a wide array of trebly keyboards and synths, and an innovative use of the drums, they have created a musical design of their own, which will be hard to imitate. Even their acoustic playing doesn’t sound of this world. Stemeseder explains : « We have six compositions, with possibilities to move things around ». Lillinger’s playing has a precision, coldness and rigidity that serves the duo’s purpose. He’s the Man-Machine, and technology struggles to keep up with him. When the curtains open to reveal the greenery behind the stage, we're stunned to see it's still daytime, having lost track of time, wrapped in the duo's galactic soundworld.

Patricia Brennan Septet. Photo Petra Cvelbar – Gulbenkian Música

And now for something completely different. Yet, with some minimal digging, connections can be found. Both Mark Shim (ts) and Adam O’Farrill (tp) have taken part in the Stemeseder-Lillinger universe, the first one on the Antumbra album, the second in a live performance by the duo at the Bezau Beatz festival a couple of days before the Lisbon date. For her first tour as a leader in Europe and oozing more energy than Tesla, Vera Cruz-born Patricia Brennan (rippling vibraphone with electronics) leads a septet of six men plus herself. The line-up is the same as on the lauded Breaking Stretch album, except for Dan Weiss on drums (replacing Marcus Gilmore) and Cuba’s Keisel Jimenez on percussions (that include sacred bata drums) instead of Mauricio Herrera. Kim Cass on bass and the ubiquitous Jon Irabagon (alto & sopranino saxophones) round out the group. Brennan’s latin-jazz isn’t necessarily avant-garde, but her drive and jubilant arrangements are hard to resist and the players are solid gold. The leader’s mallets double as conductor’s batons.

This is for the most part percussion-heavy, hot, danceable music. The front line of horns play unisons and entwined lines on top of the rhythm workouts. A piece is nostalgia-tinged but still dynamic. « Earendel – the Morning Star » refers to Brennan’s passion for astronomy, the main source of inspiration for her next album, Of the Near and Far. On tenor, Shim seems to channel the ghost of Joe Henderson, which should come as no surprise since Shim’s early albums included covers of 1960s Blue Note tunes by Henderson and other young giants of the era. After a few days of brain-boggling music, this was the feasty ending we needed.

Jazz em Agosto / Lisbon, August 1-10 (2/3)

By David Cristol 

Days 4 → 7  (see previous)

Próspero’s books

Luís Vicente Trio. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

The Luís Vicente Trio is a fully Portuguese band for the trumpeter (who adds bells, whistle, kalimba, bottles and other toy-like instruments to his arsenal), after some time touring and recording with William Parker, Luke Stewart, Hamid Drake, John Dikeman, Mark Sanders, Onno Govaert and the Ceccaldi brothers. The trio with Gonçalo Almeida (b) and Pedro Melo Alves (dm, perc, objects) has two albums out on Clean Feed and was previously heard at the first edition of the neighboring Causa Efeito festival with Tony Malaby as their guest. The spirit and ideas of fire and open music innovators such as Don Cherry are an obvious influence. Several tunes promote hymn-like themes, followed by heated playing. Vicente alternates between elusive flurries and assertive, longer lines. He however doesn't try to be a virtuoso in either the Peter Evans or Wynton Marsalis molds. It’s about the music, not the trumpet. It’s about the people he plays with. It’s about interacting and sharing. Alves has a great sound (and his own albums come recommended). Almeida is on top form, propelling the jams, fully committed whether he holds a rhythm, soloes with a big strong tone or engages in wordless chanting. An elegiac melody soars over unruly and busy playing.

João Próspero Quartet. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

Inspiration can come from anywhere, and some musicians find it in the works of painters, authors, activists as much as among their peers and mentors. Think of Myra Melford and her frequent references to artists unrelated to the music world, from writer Eduardo Galeano to painter, photographer and sculptor Cy Twombly. For the work titled Sopros, Porto’s composer and bassist João Próspero finds its muse in the writings of contemporary Japanese author Haruki Murakami. The quartet, made up of Joaquim Festas (elg), Miguel Meirinhos (p) and Gonçalo Ribeiro (dm) can be credited with original compositional ideas. The approach is definitely on the quiet side, the quartet unlikely to break a string or wake up the neighborhood. Prettily floating in the air, the light-as-a-feather music from the romantic four sounds unconcerned by the world’s commotion. On the encore, the combined influences of Ryuichi Sakamoto and Michael Nyman are felt.

MOPCUT with Moor Mother. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

The international MOPCUT trio comes to Lisbon with the two guests from their latest effort, RYOK. Ace vocalist Audrey Chen's whimpers introduce the set in tune with the garden’s pond frogs, to which Moor Mother adds ruminations of her own. Drummer Lukas König initially opts for extremely peaceful playing, while Mother chugs into a harmonica with single notes bursts. This results in a kind of dark ambient, which transforms into another beast when Julien Desprez tumbles onstage spraying venomous drops from his Gatling gun guitar. Mother intones her first verses while shaking a rattle and dancing. Desprez kicks off a steady rhythm, MC Dälek throws irate rapping to the menacing bass notes from his synth, with König fleshing out the beat. The noise-meets-improv-meets-hip-hop fusion feels like a jam session, pleasant enough but rather stagnant and directionless between intermittent flashes of brilliance. A fine moment has Moor Mother delivering paranoid verses in her portentous voice, making more sense than Lee Scratch Perry.

Edward George. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

After a series of relatively accessible acts from the finest protagonists of the era, the stakes are raised a few notches with artistic statements of a courageous, perhaps visionary nature. As the fest enters its final run, it throws uncompromising, hard to grasp music at the audience, more puzzling than it is immediately enjoyable. In particular, yet another meaningful, awe-inspiring project featuring pianist and electronics magus Pat Thomas in his fourth successive appearance at the festival, after being part of the Evan Parker ensemble, [Ahmed] and The Locals. The X-Ray Hex Tet has an album available, but listening to it doesn’t give a proper idea of the tense and stimulating experience it is to hear them live, with a superlative sound and no distraction. The sextet appears in the dimly lit auditorium and treats listeners to a considered but harrowing experience. It is somber, resorts to silence and hushed emissions, gets sonorous at times but never veers into overdrive. XT’s, [Ahmed]’s and jazz critic Seymour Wright favors short and coarse notes on the alto saxophone. Add two drummers, Crystabel Riley and Paul Abbott and, almost unseen, Billy Steiger on violin and the rare celesta. Finally and crucially, writer, broadcaster and spoken word artist Edward George reads excerpts from a pile of books and resorts to samples related to the politically aware and consciousness-raising subject matter : academic responsibility in the validation and perpetuation of mistreatments based on racial prejudice such as slavery, phrenology, hangings and colonization. It's not fun to listen to, but is for sure arresting, and the present-day implications give the listeners food for thought. The reader’s voice is clear and neutral, neither passionate nor angry, the facts dreadful enough without need for overstatement. The fragmentary display of the texts means that words are just one element of a patiently built whole. The gloomy tone doesn't lend itself to rapturous applause ; it leaves the audience stunned. An impressive work from a decidedly inspired group of artists from the UK.

Aleuchatistas 3. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

Who needs categories when Aleuchatistas 3’s fast-moving music rocks at full steam, copious with ideas, twists and turns ? Odd time signature riffs are played at breakneck speed. The structures are tight and likely tricky to execute, but the delivery seems effortless. Of course Trevor Dunn (elb) and Shane Parish (erstwhile Shane Perlowin, on electric guitar and originator of the trio over 20 years ago) are no slouches when it comes to tackling difficult material. The discovery here is drummer Danny Piechocki. His contribution is central to building the inescapable architectures of the song-length compositions. Each track goes straight to the point. No fat around the edges. Parish appears as the most laid-back person to ever walk on a stage, his unfazed demeanor at odds with the somewhat obsessive-manic aesthetics of the music. I had lost track of Ahleuchatistas after their pair of albums on Tzadik – no wonder they pleased John Zorn’s ears, as the trio’s fierce focus and quick about-face have much in common with the New York manitou’s own leanings over the years. At one point, Parish plays alone, a preview of his solo set on the next day. He gives his regards to the full moon, looming behind the audience. The songs, lifted from the trio’s current album, are intricate yet engaging. On « What's your problem » Parish settles for high-pitched washes over an insane workout from the rhythm team, oddly reminiscent of the JB’s at their peak.

Jazz em Agosto / Lisbon, August 1-10 (1/3)

By David Cristol  

The 41st edition of the festival taking place at Lisbon’s Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation fulfilled and exceeded expectations, with a display of some the most exciting current musical acts. The open-air amphitheatre was home to the evening concerts, while most of the late afternoon shows were set in the great-sounding small auditorium. Three memorable sets were presented in the large auditorium with its enchanting transparent stage wall overlooking the Garden’s plant and animal life. Day after day, it was heartening to queue with fans and visitors who came to witness avant-jazz performances, in venues replete down to the last seats. In many respects, Jazz em Agosto is utopia made real.

Days 1 → 3

Other planes of there

Heart Trio

William Parker. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

 « The Heart Trio is special because we're playing all kinds of acoustic instruments. I play some drum set and frame drum. William is playing the guembri and reeds, and Cooper-Moore is playing his own self-created banjo, harp and so forth. It is different from In Order to Survive, another group the three of us play in together. In the Heart Trio, Cooper-Moore is not playing any piano. Same guy, completely different music. » (Hamid Drake in the Free Jazz Collective, April 25, 2025).

This edition starts off with a gathering of elder statesmen, connected with the Vision festival/Arts for Art scene and reaching further through multiple collaborations both in the US and Europe. The youngest, Hamid Drake, turns 70 two days after the Lisbon concert. With the Heart Trio, the African-American roots of jazz and the spirit of improvisation are feted. No law says that musicians have to limit themselves to playing a single instrument. Tonight William Parker doesn’t have a bass, the instrument he’s famous for. This allows him to switch from various instruments to his heart’s content, such as the ngoni, the duduk, the guembri and the hunting horn. Not a first for the shepherd of the New York free jazz community. Cooper-Moore has enjoyed performing on self-built instruments to great expressive effect since decades : today a xylophone, an odd flute, the diddley-bow and more. Only Drake has his usual kit. Sitting center-stage, Parker initiates the colors and tempis of the groove-based improvisations. A spiritual atmosphere pervades the set. It’s about sounds and rhythms, and the primeval or childish joy of trying things and seeing what happens. It wanders quite a bit and doesn’t always ignite. When it works, they keep going at it for a while. Here a hi-life rhythm emerges, with Parker on a wooden flute emitting a single gravelly note like a didgeridoo ; there Drake launches a breakbeat, with Parker humming and repeating a pattern on the guembri. A ramshackle blues proves satisfying. To maintain the trio’s balance, Cooper-Moore holds back more than usual, which seems counterintuitive for an artist known for his eccentric outbursts, an edgy character who thrives in busy situations. He however manages to insert his sense of humor into the proceedings. Drake is his usual reliable self, available to every change of direction and suggesting some of his own – a reggae beat, or a soulful vocal invocation accompanied by the lone frame drum. At the end, Parker the wise grabs the microphone to encourage « the heart to be yourself », « the heart to fulfill your dreams », « the heart to never give up », « the heart to listen… ».

Rafael Toral. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

The two solo concerts of the edition celebrated the guitar, used in wildly opposing fashions. With Spectral Evolution, Rafael Toral unleashed electric orchestral soundscapes on a grand, almost operatic scale. A lush sound fills the room. A Theremin stands alone, which Toral uses from a distance, to influence the sounds triggered by the guitar. Which actually sounds more like a church organ than your average six-strings. Broad and precise movements of the arms and hands are activating the eerie characteristics of the Theremin. Toral plays the two instruments at the same time, linked together to create the sound he’s after. The cover of the album corresponding to tonight’s music features the very same image of a bird as seen projected behind the artist, and in the Summer 2025 issue of We Jazz, Toral appears in the same position, with the same visual backdrop. The slow chords, partly inspired by 1930s jazz arrangements, are immersive, the waves and layers seductive. The ending – or so we think – has the artist unlit, a dark silhouette in front of the image, coaxing static sounds from the guitar, with added digital bird sounds. It is not the end, however, for Toral returns to the same layering that has occupied most of the set, the majestic soundscapes we’ve heard before. Finally, he puts the guitar aside to show off his prowess on the lone Theremin, which seems like an unnecessary conclusion. Some people get fidgety, phone screens start to light up like scattered firelflies. The duration, however, is no mere whim but stems from the choice to present the album in its entirety. Interviewed in the summer issue of We Jazz, Toral states : « I’m enjoying everything that is variable in live playing, but I’m basically performing the album as a composition. I usually don’t do that, but I felt I had to offer that experience, as the album became so strong. The show benefits from the album’s structure, and the live expansion worked so well that it receives lots of listening love with a very enthusiastic reception every time ». 

Kris Davis Trio. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

The Kris Davis Trio appearing in the outdoors amphitheater consists on the leader on prepared and unprepared piano, Robert Hurst on double bass and Johnathan Blake on drums. Davis had performed on the same stage at the 2022 edition with the Borderlands Trio (Stephan Crump and Eric McPherson). And a few days before in New York, Davis was part of yet another trio, with drummer Tom Rainey and Korean gayageum player DoYeon Kim. Hurst, whose career is firmly grounded in mainstream jazz, and Blake are the players on Davis’ « Run the Gauntlet » album, dedicated to six women composers. They perform a selection of pieces from that record, penned by each of them, as well as new compositions yet to be recorded. We’re not on free jazz territory but the skillful and clear-cut playing of Davis reconciles upholders of the jazz tradition and supporters of the creative vistas. Blake, also a member of the current Ben Monder trio, has the drum elements placed very low in front of him. The playing is mostly unshowy, Davis electing to play two-note chords when three notes aren’t necessary. Some tunes are punchy and highly rhythmical but never yield to speed intoxication. Not one for long statements, Davis has a taste for concision, but likes good strong clusters on occasion, as on the album’s titular piece. Hurst's elegant playing and Blake’s effusiveness complement each other well. Introspection and turmoil go hand in hand, sometimes simultaneously. A ballad, gentle but full of unusual angles and developments, resembles what Herbie Hancock and Wayne Shorter were composing in the mid-sixties. Beneath the stoic surface, could it be that Davis' music is funky at its core ? The less is more approach is an element of that feel, as are Blake’s contributions. Towards the end, Hurst adds an electronic effect to his bass, his notes doubled an octave higher, unexpected in this acoustic setting. The NYC-cellars-bred aesthetic translates well to the opulent spaces of the Foundation. 

Mariam Rezaei. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

UK turntablist and The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters member Mariam Rezaei gets lone billing on the program. It makes sense in that she’s a frequent solo performer (she was seen in May at Toulouse’s Le Vent des Signes, turning a sold-out [Ahmed] LP to shreds), and tonight’s show has her alone on stage for close to half an hour before she’s joined by MOPCUT’s Julien Desprez on electric guitar – although calling him a guitar player is open for debate – and Lukas König on drums. Turntablism originates in hip-hop culture, and scratching is still very much a part of it, but it has evolved into varied strands. Turntablist Christian Marclay, a favorite of art museums these days, turned his cut-up methods to film. With a style all her own, Rezaei’s use of the turntables allows her to tap into a well of near-infinite possibilities. Like Desprez’ guitar is his chosen tool for unleashing sonic blasts and electric uppercuts, Mariam’s decks and records are a key to unlocking and transforming samples stored in a computer, and other sound-altering gear is also put to use. Harsh electronics open the set, followed by trumpet. Rezaei is versed in jazz culture past and present, and likes to use sounds from people she performs with, either from albums or expressly recorded to that end. Mette Rasmussen’s sax and Gabriele Mitelli’s trumpet are mixed in a fictional dialogue. Later, pre-recorded saxophone phrases from Sakina Abdou are thrown into the brew. Punky vocals and chaotic rumors are deployed – a fitting soundtrack for the hellish 2025. Fingers move nimbly on the boards and knobs. When her French and Austrian friends come on stage, the noise factor increases. König is the one with the more traditional approach to his instrument, albeit with two sticks in each hand for more firepower. Desprez dances on the pedals and shoots crackling arrows across the venue. A few frightened patrons flee as fast as they can, but that’s par for the course at many a Jazz em Agosto gig and the vast majority sits tight to enjoy what’s coming at them. For Desprez, this collaboration also seems like a logical continuation of his solo work and with the Abacaxi trio. A cathartic aggregate, approved by a cheering audience. 

Darius Jones. Photo by Petra Cvelbar/Gulbenkian Musica

Composer and alto sax player Darius Jones, sporting a Howlin' Wolf and Muddy Waters t-shirt, returns to the Jazz em Agosto stage after last year’s performance of his fLuXkit Vancouver (i̶t̶s̶ suite but sacred) work. For tonight’s Legend of e’Boi (The Hypervigilant Eye), the personnel is the same as on the album. Gerald Cleaver (dm) and Chris Lightcap (b) are both favorite associates of many an avant-jazz explorer. The six pieces from the album are played, in a different order. It’s, again, a high point of the festival. Over a seriously cooking rhythm tandem, the alto initially throws sparse notes and brief riffs in the air. Jones’ alto is simultaneously raw, dissonant and warm, reminiscent of Henry Threadgill’s. The music is composed, yet the execution sounds open. Each member has a lot of space for expression, but no one takes the lion’s share. Jones announces that « We inside », a vehicle for Lightcap, will be played at a low volume, and invites the audience to come close and sit around the band. Slowly, one, then three, then fifty young listeners respond and carefully climb on the stage. All tracks demonstrate depth beneath the formal simplicity. « Motherfuckin’ Roosevelt » is a dedication to the composer’s uncle who encouraged him to play the saxophone. « No more my Lord » originates in a recording by archivist Alan Lomax at the Mississippi penitentiary ; this quietly burning version has a tribal beat on the toms, a droning arco in the lower register of the bass, and the gloomy alto lamentation turns into a feverish incantation, maybe a prayer to the devil for help. The scream becomes Aylerian and Cleaver breaks loose : a gripping affair ! A great trio, and another major entry in Darius Jones’ fascinating itinerary.