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