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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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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Tom Challenger & Evan Parker - May Spring Last A Lifetime (False Walls, 2026)

By Dan Sorrells

I won't spend much time describing the sound of May Spring Last A Lifetime. It is a searching, bursting 53 minute duet of tenor saxophones, one of which is played by Evan Parker, recorded in pristine clarity in Ramsgate. It may be worth noting that, at 81, Parker's had a long enough recording career that this isn't the first (or even fifth) tenor duet put to tape, Parker having spared with other tenors wielded by the likes of Anthony Braxton, Joe McPhee, John Tchicai, Hans Koch, and Urs Leimgruber. Here, his partner is Tom Challenger (quite a surname given the context!), a significantly younger musician who is a familiar face on the London scene, playing with musicians like Olie Brice and Kit Downes and in groups like Brass Mask. Challenger is an admirable match for Parker, and both players stick closely to each other through gradual turns of technique and dynamics. Above all, there is space for things to develop.

In the five or so years between Challenger and Parker's first meeting and the recording of May Spring Last A Lifetime, the two developed an informal process where they would meet with their tenors, pausing between bouts of playing to talk about their instruments and the music they were making. In the extended and wonderful conversation in the liner notes between Challenger, Parker, and False Walls label head CJ Mitchell, Challenger says that what felt significant about their duo was that, having "no goal of performance" for so many years, it felt like practice. Parker points out that "practice" is a "complicated" word, and what concerns the two is not practice in the sense of repetitively mastering the "how" of playing the instrument, but rather in approaching the "how" of playing together. Challenger characterizes this practice as the "joint activity" of "discover[ing] that you're not in control," "playing something when you're not really sure of what you're doing" and trying "to figure out what the hell that is."

As the conversation winds on, something possibly controversial is revealed: May Spring Last A Lifetime is not a single take of a herculean imaginative feat. It captures a typical meeting between the two, but has the pauses, the conversations, the breaks to change reeds removed. And not only are these gaps omitted, but Challenger has then rearranged the musical pieces. In an era where the perennial debate about the legitimacy or authenticity of recordings of improvised music has largely receded, and where there are more recordings than any one lifetime could survey, I'll admit to still bristling at this revelation. (For his part, Parker also seemed skeptical at first—or at the very least, like such an idea simply wouldn't have occurred to him). As I read on, Challenger's explanation was compelling, so much so that I think the choice becomes one of the most interesting things about May Spring Last A Lifetime. It stipulates that, yes, of course fidelity to a long-since-evaporated musical event is out of the question. But what if that's somehow more true to our experience?

Put plainly, Challenger says that the "purest perception" he has of recording with Parker, "of that event, is my memory." Only in the first order experience of the music in the moment that it happened can one be said to (maybe) have some sort of undiluted access. Even that is as evanescent as the notes themselves, immediately mediated. Everything after each vanishing instant is memory: inevitably shuffled, reordered, rendered diffuse. "The cool thing is that you can just change that perception in your head," says Challenger. This is how we engage with our memory. To alter the order of the music "isn't so problematic, because actually, when I think of it, I think of that memory, [and] I'm still reordering it all the time."

Sitting here, listening to a recording released long after the players vibrated the air in a room half the world away, I wonder what it is about Challenger's reconstruction that even caused the question of authenticity to enter my mind. Was it because I had a romanticized assumption about what I was hearing, and then the illusion was shattered? Do I really value something more about continuity or stamina than I do the actual engagement and creativity reflected in the music? Am I imposing some condition of purity on this document to assuage the guilt of having to encounter the music in this form? "You had to be there." But I wasn't. Is there something about Challenger reordering the pieces but concealing their seams that exhumes some dusty old bugbear, that maybe we haven't assimilated the troubles with recordings of free improvisation so much as repressed them?

It occurs to me that I've already encountered a version of all of this—and with Parker, to boot. Many years ago, I attended a performance of Parker, Nate Wooley, and Joe Morris that was later released as Ninth Square on Clean Feed. When I put that CD on, I recognize none of the music despite being mere feet from the players as it happened. My memories of the event have more to do with the setting and a sort of charged air of anticipation than with any kind of musical content. Ninth Squarehas six tracks—much like the six segments Challenger arranged into May Spring Last A Lifetime —and while several run one into the next, I couldn't possibly tell you whether those tracks accurately represented any portion of the two sets that were played that evening. What Challenger asks us to recognize is that these ambiguities and distortions are true for the people who make the music, too. We are all forced into reencounters that render things differently and newly. For all of us who weren't with Parker and Challenger in the Arco Barco studio, we're invited through Challenger's edits to partially occupy the perspective of one of the music's creators as they also turn it over in their mind.

Thinking about May Spring Last A Lifetime sent me to the bookshelf, where I pulled down David Grubbs' Records Ruin the Landscape,which delightfully mucks about in the same quagmire . I'm ruminating about these questions here because now, in a world awash in recordings of improvised music, a world where many listeners engage more frequently and more deeply with recordings than with live performance, there are very few albums that seem to dare us to contemplate how we engage with this music. The pleasures of sharing in what Parker and Challenger created together have little to do with chronological integrity. They are also not limited to those conveyed by physical presence. You don’t need to be aware of any of what I’ve discussed to partake in them. And if the way we encounter the music on May Spring Last A Lifetime is not quite true-to-life, it remains true to the spirit in which it was created, and—just as in Challenger's memory—the journey of two tenor saxophones becomes a contoured and nuanced surface and not merely the straight line between a start and a stop.

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Gianni Gebbia - Petrichor (objet-a, 2026)

By Ferruccio Martinotti

“To have seen Italy without having seen Sicily is not to have seen Italy at all, for Sicily is the clue to everything”. (J.W. von Goethe)

If there's one artist who embodies the layered, cultured, and restless soul of Sicily, it's Gianni Gebbia. But beware, his musical lexicon is never a regionalist language, but always an extraordinary, challenging, universal Esperanto. Born in Palermo in 1961, he taught himself jazz by gaining experience in numerous Sicilian groups and orchestras and participating in jam sessions with passing American musicians. Like all men from the islands, he couldn't resist the call of the Horizon Line, and in 1980 he moved to New York, where he experienced the "no wave" movement and the last glimmers of the loft scene. During those same years, he attended the legendary University of the Streets on the Lower East Side, directed by saxophonist Muhammad Salahuddeen, before moving to Paris in 1984 to study with Jean-Claude Forenbach and Alan Silva. In 1990, he performed solo at the FMP “Total Music Meeting” in Berlin alongside musicians such as Steve Lacy and Lindsey Cooper, and since 1991, he has collaborated with German percussionist Guenter Baby Sommer and double bassist Peter Kowald, thus reuniting one of the most telluric duos of European free jazz. In 1993 he formed the folk-improv project “Terra Arsa” along with Vittorio Villa and singer Miriam Palma. In recent years, performances have been frequent alongside contemporary and butoh dancers (Masaki Iwana, Tadashi Endo, Antonio Carallo, Julie Stanzak, Yves Musard), poets (Alberto Masala), videomakers (Salvo Cuccia), film and theatre directors (Raul Ruiz, Roberto Andò, Jerome Savary, Guido Chiesa, Vanessa Redgrave, Heiner Goebbels, Aurelien Bory, Stefania Casini, Davide Riondino, Luca Guadagnino, Pina Bausch), visual artists (Toti Garraffa, Nicola Console, Martha Keller, Georgina Starr) and circus artists (Francois Chat, Vera Mormino). The collaborations in the musical field are impressive: Heiner Goebbels, David Moss, Zu, Otomo Yoshihide, Fred Frith, Anatoly Vapirov, Vladimir Tarasov, Jean Marc Montera, Dominique Regef, Louis Sclavis, Pino Minafra, Jim O' Rourke, Lee Ranaldo, Glen Velez, Benoit Delbecq, Noel Akchoté, Antonello Salis, Sergey Kuryokhin, Henri Kaiser, Michel Doneda, Takaoka Daysuke, Shin'ichi Isohata, Reiko Imanishi, Garth Powell, Evan Parker, Francesco Cusa, Domenico Sciajno, Butch Morris, Lukas Ligeti, Elliot Sharp, Shin'ichi Isohata, William Wynant, Satoko Fuji, Dominique Regef, Benoit Delbecq, Lawrence Butch Morris, Wadada Leo Smith, Milford Graves, to name some. Gebbia's ongoing projects in recent years include “Trionacria” alongside Roy Paci on trumpet and Francesco Cusa on drums,“Switters” with Francesco Cusa and Vince Vasi, and “Zen Widow” with Californians Garth Powell and Matt Goodheart. His solo work has continued steadily since 1990. In 2011, he played with Eiko Ishibashi, both in a duo and a trio with bassist Daniele Camarda. In 2013, he formed a new band, “Magnetic Trio”, with which, for his own label “objet-a”, he reinterprets all the compositions created from the 1980s to the present, as a sort of compendium of all his musical experiences. In 2020, he formed the open project "The Fruitful Darkness”, which features Massimo Pupillo and Tony Buck. In 2024, as “The Mayfield” (Heiner Goebbels, Willi Bopp, Cecile Lartigau, Nicolas Perrin, and Camille Emaille), he released an extraordinary album with Intakt Records. In recent years, he has begun studying and using Indian bansuri flutes in his performances, and he cultivates his study of Indian music, having attended courses with the renowned Maestro Hariprasad Chaurasia and his students Debopriya and Suchismita Chatterjee. This interest led to the solo albums “Vapor” and "Calor”, where Gebbia primarily uses the bansuri flute, and the same occurs in Petrichor. Titled with a neologism that combines the Greek words "Petra" (boulder, stone) and "Ichor" (sap), referring to the scent of rain on dry earth, the album unfolds across 11 tracks, all under three minutes, suspended between ambient atmospheres, micro-variations of sound, and sensorial perceptions. The textures of Indian wind instruments and electronics play with Eastern influences without folkloric shortcuts or implausible xerox-effects, but rather through a unique interpretation by someone who has embraced those cultural styles in their soul, even before than in their musical technique. In a single track ("Metabolico"), Gianni returns to the soprano saxophone, while the 11 minutes extended bonus track ("Zazeela") pays homage to Marian Zazeela (April 15, 1940-March 28, 2024), a New York-based artist and musician, member of the experimental music collective "Theater of Eternal Music," known for her collaboration with her husband, composer La Monte Young. For those who dug Shabaka's shakuhachi period but a really great record per se.

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Summer Bummer in Focus

At the end of this summer, the Free Jazz Blog will be heading to Antwerp to check out the Summer Bummer festival. Held over the last weekend of August, it's been on our 'bucket list' of festivals over the past few years as its reputation has leaked across the ethers. Today, we present an interview with programmer Koen Vandenhoudt, about the festival's origin and concept ... but first a short impression of event from the festival itself:

Paul Acquaro: How did the very first edition of the festival come into being?

Koen Vandenhoudt: The first edition of Summer Bummer came into being as the celebration of 25 years of Freakscene, my radio show at Antwerp’s Radio Centraal, so originally it was Freakscene’s Summer Bummer. But even then it was a combined effort of music enthusiasts, supportive artists and a lot of volunteers that made and still make it happen.

PA: What do you think distinguishes your festival from others in Europe?

KV: We work purely by content, and though we pioneer many artists and give chances to lesser known and emerging artists, we go less by trends or commercial choices. At Summer Bummer we often present artists in constellations that have never happened before or that are brand new. That’s super exciting but hard to promote. People want the hear and see things before hand. So to see people coming from all over the world to witness this musical adventure, gives us a good feeling. It’s a trust kind of thing built over the years.

Another important thing is that we never do overlaps. We use multiple stages but always make sure that people can see all the shows -- and very important, it’s a community thing, where people can hang out, meet the artists, participate in an installation, enjoy some nice homemade food or score some excellent records.

PA: What guides your programming choices from year to year?

KV: We would like to say the artists and the ever changing amazing music they make. The international network and knowledge we built from within our Sound in Motion organization - volunteers, professionals, artists and like minded organizations - over all the years is pretty vast. This means that from all over the world we are continuously fed with the ins and outs of the music world.

On top of that, we support musicians over the long term, from the early stages, where the artist is new and unknown, to the moment where the international stage starts noticing.

PA: How do you decide when a project is “right” for the festival?

KV: That’s a very subjective process and impossible to pin-point exactly. We sometimes set out a kind of wish list or some minor themes but this very often gets overruled by the sheer quality of surprising offers or by the fact that every day is a day of potential musical discovery. Being able to keep this flexibility, this room to manoeuvre is crucial...

PA: How do you balance presenting established artists with discovering new voices?

KV: Since the first Summer Bummer edition and also in our nomadic concert series, our Dropa House residencies and our Dropa Disc label, we always balanced the older generation with established artists and the up and coming generation. In an age where pioneers of improvised, adventurous and experimental music are rapidly forgotten and disappearing, it’s super important to stage these different generations together. Sometimes we can combine them, like Peter Brötzmann with Farida Amadou and Thurston Moore, or Cel Overberghe with Adia Vanheerentals and Ornella Noulet (60 years of age difference), and Joe McPhee with Mette Rasmussen and Dennis Tyfus is also a good intergenerational and genre defying example. 

And sometimes it’s exemplary of how the past is still more than relevant and moves into the future, like the trio of Barry Guy, Evan Parker, Paul Lytton or the historic duo of Fred Van Hove and Brötzmann. As said earlier we support musicians over the long term. Therefore some artists who are considered established these days still have a strong bond with Summer Bummer and Sound in Motion as an organization. Being able to show how these artists evolve is something very beautiful and exciting to witness. 

This year we have some beautiful examples of this with the world premiere of Rodrigo Amado, one of the hardest working reed players around, in a trio with the legendary bass player/icon Joëlle Léandre and the genre hopping genius drummer and electronics manipulator Gerald Cleaver, not a trio we requested but a proposal by the artists themselves. 

And what to say about one of the all time greats, Alexander von Schlippenbach, who will play this years Summer Bummer in a duo with phenomenal drummer and one of the most prominent representatives of the scene Paal Nilssen-Love, another request by the artists themselves and super exemplary of everything we stand for. And maybe the ultimate example of mixing up generations, gender, established and new artists is the passage at Summer Bummer in 2024 of Fire! Orchestra CBA and Fire! Orchestra CBA Youth. Mindblowing and very inspirational indeed.

PA: Are there artistic boundaries you intentionally avoid—or intentionally cross?

KV: Crossing artistic boundaries is inherent to the invited artists. Creating the platform to cross potential boundaries is the essence of Summer Bummer as a festival and to Sound in Motion as an organization. Just look at this years program and you know what we mean.

PA: What do you hope musicians experience here that they might not elsewhere?

KV: We once published a book with the title Food For Thought asking the artists how they experienced playing for Sound in Motion. One of the answers was: 'Feeling at home away from home.’

We like to think and hope that we are part of a handful of organizations and festivals that actually make this happen. That we can create the perfect environment for artists so they can focus 100% on their craft and artistry.

PA: What do you hope audiences experience here that they might not elsewhere?

KV: That there’s more than just mainstream music, forced upon everyone by mainstream media. And that, unlike mainstream channels will make you believe, it is not by definition difficult music. Even alternative channels struggle with this, shying away or being apologetic when music is abstract or noisy or not following known paths, as if there’s something wrong with it. No, embracing the unknown and enjoying it full on is the way to go.

PA: How do you see the festival’s role within the local music community?

KV: By showing the international dynamic of adventurous, improvised and experimental music and putting local musicians in the spotlights, introducing them first hand to international mainstays the Summer Bummer Festival tries to open international doors and opportunities.

PA: What is one thing that we didn't ask you that you think we should have?

KV: Sound in Motion is a nomadic organization, how does that relate to the concert series and the festival, and what's the importance of this within the field of improvised and experimental music and free jazz?

Sound in Motion uses a "nomadic" model that fundamentally shapes both its ongoing concert series and its annual festival. In fields like free jazz, improvised, and experimental music, this structural fluidity is not just a logistical choice—it is an aesthetic and philosophical necessity. Experimental and improvised music has historically suffered from being ghettoized either as purely academic or overly elitist. By refusing to stay inside a traditional, high-art institution, Sound in Motion actively de-academizes the genre. Bringing free jazz into a rock club one week, a community art space the next, or a cultural center the week after meets diverse audiences where they already are, embedding avant-garde sound into the community fabric.

Free jazz and free improvisation are built on the rejection of rigid frameworks, fixed charts, and predictable patterns. As a nomadic organization, Sound in Motion mirrors this artistically. When an organization is not connected to a physical building, it avoids the institutional inertia that forces venues to book "safe," commercially viable acts to cover high overhead costs.The organizational structure is as improvisational, adaptive, and high-risk as the music itself.

Because we must constantly collaborate with different physical venues and artistic spaces, Sound in Motion inherently builds an inter-connected infrastructure. We do not guard our audience; instead, we aim to cross-pollinate with the crowds of the partner venues. This creates a robust safety net for touring experimental musicians, making Belgium a vital European hub for artists who rely on agile, grassroots bookers to sustain their careers.

 Find out more about Summer Bummer here.

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Ensembles with electronics: rewiring the imagination

By Stuart Broomer

These are recent and distinguished bands united by the extent to which they’re refined, defined and expanded by electronics, harbingers not of the future but of the immediate present, multiplying and expanding through degrees of transformation, each a legitimate heir to the kinds of informed complexity pioneered by musical outsiders like John Benson Brooks and Sun Ra and literary outsiders like Brion Gysin and William S. Burroughs.

Alexander Hawkins -- No Nation but Imagination (Intakt, 2026) 

 

Pianist/composer Alexander Hawkins has already covered a broad musical spectrum in his career, from Togetherness Music for Sixteen Musicians featuring Evan Parker to Carnival Celestial, his brilliant reinvention of the piano trio with bassist Neil Charles and drummer Stephen Davis. No Nation but Imagination may be his most striking work yet, with a trans-Atlantic quintet that links Chicago-resident flutist Nicole Mitchell and drummer Hamid Drake with British musicians Rhodri Davies, here playing harp and electronics, and turntablist/sound artist Matthew Wright. That’s not a predictable combination, and it immediately lives up to that promise of the unlikely: it’s music that can find a groove, but it’s a groove that hasn’t exactly happened before, suggestive in some ways of the unpredictable musical culture of Intakt label-mates Elias Stemeseder and Christian Lillinger and their Umbra series of recordings.

Liner note author Peter Margasak has traced the project’s complex lineage and associations, beginning with Hawkins’ enthusiasm for the Mandingo Griot Society, a band that Drake played in in the 1970s with Gambian kora master Foday Musa Suso. Mitchell has played with a kora master more recently, the Malian Ballaké Sissoko. Those associations with the harp-like kora triggered the inclusion of harpist Rhodri Davies, who has also worked extensively with electronics, also the arena of Matthew Wright. The resultant ensemble bears a certain resemblance to Wright and Evan Parker’s Trance Map in its integration of acoustic and electronic instruments and processing, the result here a mix of live and studio recordings with further processing.

It’s music that has covered tremendous ground just coming into being, and it’s fascinating how the most exotic of technological procedures admit of a certain alien prettiness, a provocative banality, evident here from the opening “Solo Way Far Gone”: mysterious electronic piano tinkling, at once bearer and judge of the merely pretty, is here elevated by degrees of mystery and alien artifice. The first real group track, “Resolution Each and Every,” suggests that some 1950s exotica by Martin Denny (e.g., “Quiet Village”) has been recovered by some distant and unknown civilization (perhaps Kurt Vonnegut’s refined Tralfamadorians), then altered, expanded and broadcast back to earth, with Mitchell’s flute assuming multiple identities amidst the complex percussion and a certain general wobbling of harp and synthesizer, with the music stretching far beyond the merely exotic. So too does “Mirror No Border”, which bristles with Hawkins’ percussive piano flurries and Mitchell’s alternately piping and soaring lines.

The more extended pieces create increasingly complex spaces. “Lullaby Much Further” combines near silence with a dauntingly mysterious collection of sounds and a complex web of connections, while “Hocket Fierce Peaceful” achieves the contradictory character of its title by setting a flute of almost unearthly tranquility amidst a maze of abstract and decorative electronic keyboards. 

 

Sofia Borges - Rieko Okuda - Peter Van Huffel -- Lagrangian Points (4daRecord, 2026) 

Equally mixed in its combinations of the acoustic and the electronic, Lagrangian Points differs significantly in being a documentary recording of a live performance from Berlin’s Morphine Raum, all the electronic processing going on simultaneously with the acoustic. Sofia Borges plays drums. percussion and electronics; Rieko Okuda, piano, keyboards and electronics; Peter Van Huffel alto and baritone saxophones and electronics.

According to the liner note “ Lagrangian Points are zones of delicate balance where forces align and bodies can remain suspended. In that sense, the trio forms a system of its own: each voice holds and is held by the others, maintaining a moving equilibrium, with enough space left open for the imagination to drift beyond its edges.” That particularly double identity is linked to the presence of electronics employed by each trio member, to the extent that instrumental identities can blur into one another.

The opening “Ghost Currents” initially seems to emphasize Okuda’s electronic keyboards and Borges’ percussion, but within moments the music’s distinctive complexity is apparent, many of the sounds traceable to their acoustic origins, but nonetheless operating in a transformative state, the three elaborating waves of sound that might suggest a wholly electronic extension of an improvising ensemble akin to Cecil Taylor’s trio with Andrew Cyrille and Jimmy Lyons.

“Parallax” introduces a subtle world of discreet electronic distortions, near-invocations of piano strings and metallic percussion all of these combining to suggest alien transmissions from space as well as a distinctly human music. Just as Alexander Hawkins’ electronic webs on No Nation But Imagination can make Nicole Mitchell’s flute seem alien, Van Huffel’s alto here might be purely acoustic at times, yet his aptitude for abstraction is such that his alto suggests something quite different, almost a harmonica, its voice swimming in an electronic maze, until electronic alterations to the saxophone draw it wholly into an intermediate zone floating between the acoustic and the electronic.

With the final track, “Hypnopompia”, Van Huffel’s saxophone initially provides an acoustic line in an alien soundscape, but as the surrounding sound grows increasingly menacing (there is a suggestion of hybrid alien predators), his sound gradually mutates, becoming closer and closer to the world that surrounds him, achieved with a brilliant combination of acoustic and electronic techniques. As Van Huffel moves further towards the electronic, Borges briefly inhabits the acoustic role, but the ultimate group movement will be almost wholly electronic.

These two remarkable recordings together articulate a new terrain, reflective of an increasingly mediated world, one in which the likelihood of deception conditions interpretation, one in which art and its appreciation might increasingly stretch both creative and interpretive acts toward surveillance.

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Ballister + Luke Stewart - Clocking the Wheel (Aerophonic Records, 2026)

By Martin Schray

When their latest album Smash and Grab came out, I cheekily claimed Ballister might be the best band in the world. I still stand by that statement, and what could be more fitting for Dave Rempis and his Aerophonic label than to celebrate their 50th physical release with a new recording by that outfit? The only question that came up beforehand possibly was what to do to make it special? The answer was relatively simple: You bring in a real powerhouse to give the whole thing even more momentum. And what could be more natural than inviting a bassist for that? Luke Stewart (of Irreversible Entanglements fame) was practically the obvious choice. However, that also means that the expectations for a recording like this are incredibly high.

For Clocking the WheelBallister could have done what we all love them for: simply mixing up their famous cocktail of high energy music, speed metal, free jazz, and brutalistic power, slap it right in our faces, and everyone would have been happy. And of course they do deliver this mix - but they also present another side. Especially in the first part of this double CD, “Carpet Joint,” Dave Rempis (as always on different saxes) and Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello) trade off so effortlessly for three minutes that you’d think you were at a chamber concert. What is more, they leave room for solos, for example for percussionist Paal Nilssen-Love, who presents rhythms with a Latin American flavor, laying the groundwork for two ballad-like interludes - something we’re not used to hearing too often from the band. However, you immediately find yourself wishing they would do that every now and then. The icing on the cake is an almost Evan-Parker-esque solo by Rempis and a one-minute nod by the band to themselves, to one of their catchiest riffs (if such a thing even exists in this kind of music). In this piece, which the band performs as a trio, we are once again reminded of what makes Ballister so unique: it’s the combination of these very different styles and sounds, the way the dynamics flow into one another, that they so effortlessly blend into a cohesive whole.

Finally, Luke Stewart joins in on “Sauce for the Goose,” the second track that makes up the entirety of the second CD, and you’re faced with a changed band. For bassists, it’s not easy to keep up with Ballister - with the trio’s force, its radicalism, its rawness, its unvarnished authenticity. The band could literally run you over. But Stewart immediately immerses himself in Ballister’s sound, locking in with Nilssen-Love’s drumming to catapult the higher voices of the cello and saxophone forward. His driving energy is like a tightly stretched rubber band - elastic, yielding, flexible, but always with enough tensile strength to bounce back like a trampoline, as the liner notes put it. And Stewart is also given plenty of space to make his mark, whether in duo or solo passages.

All in all “Sauce for the Goose” shows that there is still a lot of potential with the Ballister project. Stewart’s presence draws even more energy out of the other three members, giving rise to new sound combinations (the use of electronics shines through here and there and Dave Rempis, in particular, is almost reinventing himself) and dynamics. After twelve albums, Ballister is far from running out of ideas; the band still has plenty in store. For me, they’re still the best band in the world - at least when it comes to freely improvised music.

Clocking the Wheelis available as a double CD and as a download. You can listen to “Sauce for the Goose“ on the Aerophonic bandcamp site, where you can also order the album:  

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Revisit the Serious Series

Back in December, we covered the Serious Series, a concert series in Berlin that showcases a mix of both local and international free music improvisors.  

The entire series is available online from the venue where the series took place last year, the Exploratorium, in Berlin's Kreuzberg district. Below is a video from day one, where we begin the show with series organizers saxophonist Anna Kaluza and bassist Jan Roder, then followed by pianist Marina Džukljev, bassist Christian Weber and drummer Michael Griener. The night wraps up with saxophonists Evan Parker and Peter van Bergen in an effortless duo:

 

More info here.

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Lazro Léandre Lovens- For Baritone Sax, Double Bass & Drumset (Relative Pitch, 2026)

By Martin Schray

In Bernd Schoch’s documentary “But The Word Dog Doesn’t Bark“ about the Schlippenbach Trio, Evan Parker is asked in the bonus material whether it’s possible to play “wrong” in free jazz. In the conventional sense, Parker says, that’s not possible, but that’s not the point. One might miss an opportunity to contribute something to the improvisation, which is worse - because the moment would be gone forever. In For Baritone Sax, Double Bass & Drumset , there are no such lost moments. Here, everything fits perfectly.

There are several examples on this album where you can hear the incredible timing of three masters of European improv - baritone saxophonist Daunik Lazro, bassist Joëlle Léandre, and drummer Paul Lovens. First on the opener “Temps du Corps 1”, which Lazro and Lovens begin tenderly before the saxophone roughens the tone and gives Léandre the opportunity to join in with her arco bass. Or that moment at the 5-minute mark when the musicians seem to be waiting for the perfect moment to kick things off, which Léandre then conjures up with just a few notes, and Lovens brilliantly picks up the pace before they really let loose. Then there’s another example on “Temps du Corps 3“, when Lazro plays Coltrane-ish lines before he and Léandre drop out and leave the field for Lovens, who concentrates on his toms, which lends the improvisation a dark and gloomy quality; after a very short while the three of them really pick up the pace, increase the intensity (it’s mainly Léandre who pushes her instrument to its limits) and bring the improvisation back to the beginning picking up the ballad-like mood again.

In the end, all of this comes together and is taken to the extreme: the final piece even swings here and there, with heart-wrenching, wailing saxophone notes serving as a counterpoint. Finally, it’s taken to the brink of collapse, before exploding at the very end, creating an atmosphere of extreme musical intensity that oscillates between chamber music and free jazz.

All in all, it’s the somnambulistically confident shifts between harsh and lyrical, dense and open, or accelerated and calmer passages, which create the most exciting dynamics.

It’s certainly helpful that the three were able to draw on decades of individual and collaborative experience within the global improvised music scene on this session. For Baritone Sax, Double Bass & Drumsetis a celebration of timbre, texture, sound and communication. Most of the fascination of this outstanding album comes from Lazro’s rich, expressive saxophone language, which is charmed by Léandre’s guttural yet elegant bass lines and Lovens’ subtle and inventive percussive cornucopia.

For Baritone Sax, Double Bass & Drumsetis available as a CD and as a download. You can listen to it and buy it on the Relative Pitch Bandcamp site:

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Caroline Kraabel / Pat Thomas / John Edwards / Steve Noble - Transgressive Coastlines (Shrike Records, 2026)

 By Richard Blute 

I was happy to see saxophonist Caroline Kraabel reviewed in Stef’s recent article “female artists and solo horn performances”, as I had been spending a great deal of time listening to Transgressive Coastlines. I’ll admit I bought it because of her bandmates. The trio of Pat Thomas on piano, Steve Noble on drums and John Edwards on bass struck me as an unstoppable combo, and it was a pleasure to discover that Kraabel more than holds her own in this distinguished company.

Pat Thomas is a member of the great band [Ahmed], who put on one of the most astonishing shows I’ve ever seen at Big Ears 2025, and also appeared on The Locals Play The Music Of Anthony Braxton, the album where Braxton gets the funky treatment. Noble and Edwards have worked together on countless albums, providing the backbone for any number of the most important albums in free jazz. Check out their work with Peter Brötzmann and Jason Adasiewicz on Mental Shakes or that quartet’s live album, called simply The Quartet. It’s Brötzmann’s final show.

Caroline Kraabel is a saxophonist, conductor, composer and improviser. She’s performed with an extraordinary number of great musicians, including her bandmates here, Charlotte Hug, Maggie Nichols, Louis Moholo, Susan Alcorn, and on and on. She also “founded a large improvising group made up of all sorts of trans-masc, trans-fem, nonbinary, and women improvisers…. they have been exploring improvisation and difference in monthly labs and regular performances”. I would love to have heard her “solo saxophone improvisations while walking in London and elsewhere with her infant child/ren in their pushchair.” [Both quotes are from her website.]

The opener Dark Rainbow begins as a masterclass in how to gradually build up tension. Edwards is scraping his strings, inviting his bandmates to join him. Thomas plays just a few notes, seemingly always at the right moment. Noble and Kraabel are also lightly responding. But they build up the sound quickly and before long Kraabel is playing longer flowing lines with occasional shrieks as punctuation. I’m always impressed with Edwards in the way he switches so smoothly from bowing to plucking in response to his bandmates. The intensity of all four musicians increases sharply, they’re communicating deeply, with lots of stops and starts and changes in tempo. As in all the best free improvisation, we feel as if we’re listening in on a profound conversation. The whole album is full of subtle moments of peace and eruptions of intensity. Each of the musicians are happy to take the lead or take a step back as the collective wishes.

I really enjoy Kraabel’s playing throughout this album. While I clearly hear Evan Parker in her style, I also hear something unique in her use of the high extremes of instrument and in her use of breath sounds. She seems to be talking into her sax at several points.

This is a year-end list contender for me. I’ll be diving into Kraabel’s Bandcamp page as soon as I finish this review. 

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The Utopia of Better Processes: An Interview with Christian Lillinger

Photo by Nino Halm

By Ljubisa Tosic*

Anyone lucky enough to have seen Christian Lillinger's project Open Form for Society live in 2019 at Donaueschingen or at the Jazzfest Berlin will easily understand why he calls it a "sound organ." After years on hiatus, the drummer is now reviving this deeply resonant project.

When one confronts Christian Lillinger with prominent colleagues' names, intending to find out how lasting his encounters with figures such as Rolf Kühn, Joachim Kühn, David Liebman, Alexander von Schlippenbach, or John Tchicai may have been, he responds with a staccato stream of additional names that have inscribed themselves into his musical biography:

Tamara Stefanovich, Mat Maneri, Craig Taborn, Joe Lovano, Christopher Dell, Peter Brötzmann, Beat Furrer, Peter Evans, Sofia Jernberg, John Schröder, Bob Degen, Lotte Anker, Barre Phillips, Evan Parker, Wadada Leo Smith, William Parker, Ernst-Ludwig Petrowsky, and many others...

Of course. When it comes to lasting influence, says Lillinger, "It's a difficult matter." To speak only about 0.1 percent of those influences would be unfair.

On the other hand, there were naturally his own decisions and major life steps that were connected to certain individuals. Lillinger speaks first of the decision "to start playing drums at all," and then of "having the opportunity, at sixteen, coming from a village, to study and pursue a professional path."

Here the support of Günther "Baby" Sommer, a towering figure of free jazz, was essential. "Another decisive moment was getting to know Joachim Kühn, who encouraged me to manifest my own music." From this ultimately emerged Christian Lillinger's Grund, an ensemble known for its distinctive dynamic forms of interplay.

If we continue digging deeper, Lillinger agrees that his search for a controlled freedom and openness in music-making is connected to personally perceived limitations- such as the traditional role of the drummer in jazz- as well as to his own biographical experiences:

My outlook was shaped by independence from a very early age. At the same time, I believe the classical role of the jazz drummer should be one of further development and expansion. Tradition is a constantly evolving form while preserving its roots.

For him, tradition also means, "being able to articulate oneself freely on one's instrument and develop one's own language." No surprise, then, that Lillinger regards jazz itself "as an art music" that demands alertness and continuous development.

Only in this way, he argues, can one do justice to the legacy of great innovators and carry their heritage forward through one's own artistic stance. "Everything else is dead music to me- music that merely fulfills a certain mood or expectation and thereby loses its timelessness. That interests me very little..."

Listening to Lillinger's music, it quickly becomes apparent that here is someone who hovers powerfully above stylistic boundaries. It is therefore tempting to throw a few more names and concepts at him to discover if he is influenced by contemporary classical music. Perhaps the aleatoric methods of John Cage or the open-form concepts of Karlheinz Stockhausen and Earle Brown play a role. 

 

Open Form for Society group shot. Photo by Nadja Hoehfeld.

Perhaps the great sonic precision known from works by Pierre Boulez is also essential, particularly for the current and second recording by his ensemble Open Form For Society (OFFS). "Aleatoricism plays no role whatsoever in OFFS," says Lillinger. "My music is very concretely composed and written down in conventional notation."

Nevertheless, influences from contemporary classical music are numerous. He describes them with terms such as "serial" and "microtonal." His musical thinking also revolves around traditions such as spectralism, New Complexity, and concepts of micro-time and irrational time. These are, he says, "important procedural and inspirational sources."

Someone who formulates his ideas so consciously can perhaps summarize his aesthetic position in something approaching a manifesto:

It is a "new new" chamber music that incorporates space into its actions just as much as what is prescribed and written. The placement and interpretation of the notes are always in dialogue with spatiality. The performers create the space; within this space they navigate themselves. I am opposed to genre labels, so I would rather speak of "post-genre" and of "composer-performers," because everyone involved bears responsibility for shaping and further developing the material. It is a music that operates in a certain scientific manner and thereby continuously discovers new paths.

Immersing oneself in the recording Open Form for Society II (Plaist), one feels as though embarking on a journey through an enchanted sonic garden that gathers collective musical reflexes and conveys an atmosphere of highly energized, controlled freedom.

At times there are slowed-down events reminiscent of musical stalactite caves, as in "Aufgefächert." Elsewhere pulsating sound structures emerge, creating an almost nervous sonic world. Abstract piano figures and energetically charged sound spaces continually return, while density is omnipresent within this sounding architecture.

"Vector" and "Ocker" recall an originally abstracted and further-developed bebop aesthetic, yet with their own freely treated thematic material and repetitive patterns. Introspective and expressive structures form the poles of this musical universe.

How does such a world, constantly shifting between these poles, come into being? Does the personnel come first, or the composition?

It is a very heterogeneous process, one that I wanted to pursue as naturally as possible. Initially there was the vision of assembling a larger ensemble with a strongly percussive sonic language that reflects my way of seeing and realizing structure. Here the sound of Boulez's Sur Incises was an important inspiration.

At the same time, his work with nearly all of the musicians involved in various ensembles was another important factor.

Whether Dell Lillinger Westergaard [DLW], Stemeseder-Lillinger, the collaborations with Petter Eldh and Kaja Draksler, with Robert Landfermann, or with Anna D'Errico through my work with Klangforum Wien- all of this was formative and gave me a clear idea of how and what I can write and hear.

It is fitting that Lillinger mentions Boulez's Sur Incises. With its instrumentation of three pianos, three harps, and three percussionists, it is a sonic laboratory, an organized form of energy that Lillinger has expanded upon. Alongside himself on drums and electronics are Kaja Draksler (upright piano), Elias Stemeseder (spinet and synthesizer), Georg Vogel (electric clavinet), Anna D'Errico and Cory Smythe (piano), bassists Robert Landfermann, Jonas Westergaard, and Petter Eldh, and Christopher Dell on vibraphone.

The process of selecting collaborators was equally heterogeneous:

The criteria emerged from previous work with all participants in different projects. For me, this ensemble is the perfect way to connect and transcend the worlds of classical music and modernity. Some musicians are primarily responsible for the text, others for further developments regarding sound. My musical utopia requires excellent preparation: precise reading, abstraction, further writing, and transcendence. In this ensemble I consciously distribute that responsibility.

Transcendence, he says, is less a concept than "a result of working with the material itself. We combine influences from contemporary classical music, the avant-garde, and modern beat culture, creating a common point of fusion. Everyone involved must be capable of developing their own further plan based on what is written."

What may sound free is nevertheless clearly prescribed in many respects and directions, including highly detailed polyphonic notation and rhythmic structures:

[This project] has very little to do with conventional notions of freedom and openness. Freedom begins with the possibilities of variation and dynamics. Through repetition and the slow variation within those repetitions, an individual space emerges. Everything conditions everything else and appears as a shared whole: a meta-instrument, a sonic organism.

Working with the same colleagues over a long period can, of course, lead to a comfortable routine. One knows what the other person will do, adapts accordingly, and clichés may emerge.

Lillinger sees it differently. "I don't see that danger. Because I work with the same musicians over a long period, a genuine awareness develops of what the next stages might be." Intensive work and insight make it possible "to take those next steps. With consistent and continuous work, neither boredom nor routine arise."

A convincing explanation.

This leaves the title Open Form for Society, which seems to suggest a close connection between music and social thought. "The collective negotiation of the music I initiate serves as the foundation and basis for negotiation."

Does this also concern ideas of an open, liberal society, or democracy?

The latter, absolutely! It concerns the utopia of a continually improving social process sustained through negotiation and the collective discovery of solutions. However, I must say that this project is more a sound that accompanies and encourages open processes than one that fully embodies them. Because I am the composer and initiator, it ultimately belongs more to a closed, albeit flexible, structure.

For the openness of jazz, it is far too fixed and strict; for classical music, however, it remains too open. "It therefore exists between these often rigid and ultimately inadequate categories and hopefully inspires further thinking about these social limitations. The point is this: Never stop communicating and working. Never stop thinking!"

This is Lillinger's ambitious approach. One that could also help people outside music avoid more than a few traps of cliché and convention. 

*Interview originally published in Jazz Podium, translated from German. 

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JAZZ IS DEAD! FESTIVAL - Torino, May 29-31

By Ferruccio Martinotti

A small yet great festival that along the years brought into town the likes of Peter Brotzmann, Mats Gustafsson, The Necks, Zu, Oren Ambarchi, Jamie Branch, Boris, John Edwards, Evan Parker, just to name a few, earning the perennial gratefulness of a faithful, constantly increasing, legion of diehard followers. But not only. While the music industry is devouring itself in a sick cannibalism of insanely expensive gigs, pre-sale tickets in the clutches of mafia-like algorithms and fake sold-outs, here at JID! for 15 euros (10 if you can’t afford more and 40 for the 3 days pass) you can see concerts from morning till night, when even the most grindcore eardrums beg ENOUGH. For its ninth edition, the festival is moving from post-industrial warehouses (The Bunker) to the green grounds of a farmhouse (Cascina Falchera), less than a mile from the noisy and busy outskirts of the city. Trees, lawns, camping, showers, blankets on the grass, hammocks, and barefoot children running around, create a fun and enjoyable short circuit between a hippie-esque, micro-Woodstock atmosphere and a soundtrack that is the furthest from those muddy Peace & Love days. This year’s lineup highlights once again what a properly focused festival should be: a defined perimeter, within which to showcase the various facets of the "editorial" prism, setting aside the rhetoric of a headliner and a bunch of (often out of context) support bands in front of a bored/distracted/pissed off audience, frantically waiting for the Star. Then there's everyone's taste, as it should be. Below, ours.

DAY 1 

Lucrecia Dalt

The Colombian, Berlin based musician takes the stage with her guitar, flanked by bass/double bass, and drums for a set that, almost entirely, features her latest album, "A Danger to Ourselves," released last year. Her experimental electronica, a blend of avant-garde pop and dreamlike sound design, is always intriguing, but in its live outdoor dimension, it loses something compared to her recordings. 

 

Photo Fabiana Amato

Matmos

After 30 years spent mixing up and transforming all kinds of electronic madness into "enjoyable" music, Drew Daniel and M.C. Schmidt seem still eager to have fun, and, of course, so are we. Glitches, loops, beats, and a set of steel containers struck with concentrated mastery are the menu of the evening. For the final piece, to bid farewell to the audience, they launch an irresistible straight-kick, 4/4 groove, which, for people who used to record liposuctions in operating rooms, is truly Super Yacht Rock Time! Legendary.

Photo Fabiana Amato

DAY 2

Yazz Ahmed

The Bahraini-born trumpeter, here on flugelhorn, accompanied by Ralph Wyld on vibraphone, weaves wonderful sonic textures that blend jazz and psychedelia, all flavored with Arabic fragrances inspired by her home country: a rock-solid sonic bridge between ancient worlds and contemporary avant-garde. Sublime, even at 11 am.

Photo Fabiana Amato

 Moor Mother

She prepares her laptops gently and smiling, but when she presses the ON button, the San Andreas Fault sends a shockwave that can be felt all the way to Torino: Apocalypse Now. In the maelstrom generated by devastating industrial sounds and telluric dub rhythms, Camaye Ayewa dives headfirst, not only taking possession of the music but being totally possessed by it, just to reemerge wildly fiery and furious. Seen a month ago with Irreversible Entanglements, in her solo version she reaffirms one certainty: there’s no one like her out there.

 

Photo Fabiana Amato

Sorvina

From New York, but based in Berlin, the smiling charm of Sorvina jumps on stage as a full-band on this occasion, and her music, which blends jazz, rap, soul, and gospel, is enriched in its unique expression. Through her unmistakable voice, capable of conveying joy and vulnerability, she combines lyrical complexity and groove, always remaining faithful to the roots of authentic hip-hop.

Photo Fabiana Amato

The Heliocentrics

Among the cornerstones of British nu-jazz, they were one of our highlights on the agenda, and the concert fully met expectations. Featuring bass, cello/electronics, keyboards, drums, and sax/flute, theirs is a stunning synthesis of jazz, funk, and psychedelia, producing a hypnotic and sizzling sound, articulated by the stunning talented singer Barbora Patkova. After all, they've collaborated with true legends like Mulatu Astatke and members of the Sun Ra Arkestra for a reason. 

Photo Fabiana Amato

 DAY 3

How would you measure the love for music? The number of records you own? Too easy. The concerts you’ve seen? Nah. Or maybe, starting Day 3 of the Festival at 2 PM, while the heat bomb hits Torino like Milford Graves on his drum kit? Well, that could be a unit of measurement.

Dwarfs of East Agouza

Is it possible to blend the radical improvisation and hypnosis of krautrock with the energy of Egyptian shaabi? You have to be an absolute champion to pull it off, but with Maurice Louca, Sam Shalabi and Alan Bishop we are talking about off the scale cats. Assembling electronics, wind instruments, Arabic scales, jazz, and psychedelia, their angular trajectories obliterate any space/time dimension, and their constant balance between chaos and composition, imbued with an emancipatory free jazz spirit, is captivating above and beyond daydreaming. 

Photo Fabiana Amato

Glacial

Elusive is an understatement. In 25 years, a single album and a handful of concerts for a rendez-vous of legends, Lee Ranaldo, Tony Buck, and David Watson: those who were there will be able to tell their grandchildren about it. Buck's polyrhythms (of Necks' fame) are accompanied by Ranaldo's anti-guitar playing (Glenn Branca, Sonic Youth), where the instrument is struck, dragged on the ground, played with the bow and Watson's bagpipes (Yoshi Wada, Phil Niblock), all generating a cascade of noise, free, drones, and psychedelia. Glacial in name and in deed.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Sanam

Blossomed into the Beirut scene after a collaboration with Hans Joachim Irmler from Faust, they confirm on stage the amazing, original outcome heard on their last album “Sametou Sawtan”. Modern Arabic poetry delivered by the stellar singer Sandy Chamoun, feedback, improvisation, traditional music and jazz, are delivering a unique sonic synthesis that defies all genre boundaries. The geographical boundaries of their Homeland have already been defied and breached by tanks. 

Photo Fabiana Amato

 

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Moers Lets Down its Hair (Moers Festival 2026)

By Paul Acquaro

55th Moers Festival: May 21 - 25, 2026

Once upon a time, in a land where melodies did not necessarily neatly resolve, there lived a jazz festival known far and wide. Its name traveled on the wind, whispered across oceans, appearing on record sleeves on shelves from Frankfurt to Philadelphia. Many a listener kept treasured vinyl marked with its crest—perhaps a spellbinding Evan Parker incantation, or a tale spun by John Carter.

 

But one day, as festivals sometimes do when the moon hangs just right, this venerable gathering felt a stirring—a curious, mischievous idea fluttering at its edges. It wondered what might happen if it dared to dream a little differently…

 

Having spread its wings and expanded its scope, the Moers festival has grown from its avant-garde roots into something much larger. Weaving in modern jazz, new music, poetry, political discourse and more, the theme this year was fairy tales, which the printed program whimsically presented in its surreal prose and thematic illustrations, a densely packed long holiday weekend. The festival unfurled through the old city of Moers — the castle courtyard, the main parking lot and the city park — offering lots to discover and more than one way to enjoy the festivities.

 

To some, it might have seemed chaotic. To others, perhaps a city festival with lots of food trucks and stands to buy hippie-jewelry and dashikis. And to yet others, it was a rich, off-beat intersection of musical styles, offering unexpected encounters and discoveries. None of these categories are mutually exclusive, so one could also mix and match, being equally bewitched, bothered and bewildered.

 

***

Moon over the Moers Castle with Rapunzel's escape plan in view

In a cute nod to the fairy tale theme, Rapunzel's long hair hung from the castle's tower, and to its left was the entrance to the courtyard. This was where the festival had begun, 54 years ago, inside the castle walls, before it first moved into the city park and then further out to the city's recreation fields. Today, sitting in the blazing sun of the bright blue late afternoon was drummer Chris Corsano's drum kit, and if you hadn't arrived a half-hour (or more) early, there was not chance to get a shady spot. 

Chris Corsano

Corsano began by blowing into a clarinet mouthpiece that vibrated a drum head. He proceeded into the half-hour set that was both rhythmic and melodic, as far as melody goes on the drums. It was a thoroughly engaging improvisation, drawing the listener in close.

  

Outside the castle, a mere stones throw away, across the packed market place, was the main stage, where trumpeter and composer Nate Wooley, along with the new music group Yarn/Wire (pianists Laura Barger and Julia Den Boer, and percussionists Russell Greenberg and Dustin Donahue) and vocalist Tara Khozein were set to play. Here, the erudite trumpeter was presenting a newly commissioned piece that mixed narrative with modern classical. Long, dramatic passages brought together Scottish author Nan Shepard's mystical stories to the stage and quiet interactions between the musicians provided a charged atmosphere. The two grand pianos framed the music with light, dissonant chords while Wooley's tender passages were adorned with soft whispers and audible breaths. Mostly melancholic, the piece was punctuated by intense crescendoing passages. A brainy set, for sure.

 

Skylar Tang and Luis Lopes

Ready for a little more free improvisation, the Moers Sessions were calling. So, back through the market and past Rapunzel's locks, to "Wo die wilden Frösche klatschen" (Translation: Where the Wild Frogs Clap) stage area, nestled in a tree-lined grove in the park. Curated by saxophonist Jan Klare, various sessions throughout the festival brought together musicians appearing elsewhere at the festival in new formations and an improvised setting. This evening began with saxophonist Mia Dyberg in dialog with pianist William Schwartzman and drummer Jonathan Schierhorn. Melodic and probing, the tentative trio locked into a groove about half-way into their set, bringing the listeners along an explorative journey. Next up was the assemblage of bassist John Murray, trumpeter Skylar Tang, drummer Sofia Borges, pianist Rieko Okuda and guitarist Luis Lopes. The group seemed split, while Lopes, Borges and Okuda seemed comfortable skirting around an identifiable tonal center, Tang sounded a bit resistant to let it go. The audience did not seem to mind, Lopes' clashing guitar and Tang's attempt at tonalism generated ample, enthusiastic applause.

***

In the Zwergengasse

The city of Moers itself is an eclectic mix of sights. At the intersection of the aforementioned lush city park and old town, featuring the city's castle (or what remains of it), there is a collection of historic churches and buildings, one of which is a picturesque 18th century neo-Renaissance "Altes Landratsamt" (which translates to the rather uninspiring: Old County Administration Building). Then, if one wanders a little further, into the Fussgaengerzone (pedestrian zone), they will pass the old city mansion, the Peschkenhaus (which we'll come back to later) and then just a bit further, the sweetly curious Zwergengasse (The delightfully translated: Dwarves Alley). The latter is a narrow, colorful alley way featuring a house dating from the 1920's adorned with charming carvings - worth a trip if you happen to already be in town.

 

Ches Smith

Back to the festival: Saturday's adventure begins again at the castle courtyard, this time for percussionist Ches Smith's solo set. It starts with a crash, Smith going at his drum kit full throttle. Flanked by glockenspiel and timpani drums, it was obviously just the opening salvo. The chimes soon came into focus, stark in contrast to the drumming but one could still sense more was still to come! The action then shifted towards the timpani, and playing with expanding and contracting tension, Smith pulled unusual sounds from the instruments around him. At times exploratory and other times hard hitting, the set was another early highlight of the festival.

 

Returning to the full courtyard after a little wander around the festival grounds to find some dinner, it was time for some high-energy music. After a quick count-off and delivering the head of the first tune, saxophonist Angelica Neiscer was deep into a scorching solo. Her counterparts, cellist Tomeka Reid and drummer Eliza Salem were in cahoots as the cellist played a vibrant bass line and the drummer provided a propulsive tempo. It was a classic piano-less jazz trio, energetic, and though not free-jazz per-se, there was generous freedom within the charts. Case in point: Reid's freak-out solo during the second piece that threw anything written into the metaphorical wind (a little real wind would have been nice, it was hot!).

 

Bonbon Flamme

An exquisite chaos was already underway on the main stage as Bonbon Flamme's mash-up of cabaret, half-remembered melodies from a black-out night, old-time jazz riffs and skronk guitar filled the air. The audience was enrapt as Cellist Valentin Ceccaldi, keyboardist Fulco Ottervanger, drummer Etienne Ziemniak and guitarist Luis Lopes achieved a new level of musical abandon. As a French chanson segued into prog rock via a wheezy pipe-organ, the cello played a bass-line that triggered an explosive solo from Lopes. As they played, the keyboardist could be seen leaping acrobatically between his many instruments and all of the action on stage was being projected to a giant iPhone screen hanging from a crane to the back left of the audience area. It was a colossal structure with a mix of live and pre-recorded videos playing throughout the performances.

 

 

Evi Fillipou's "inEvitable"

Every year at the festival there is an artist-in-residence and this year it was vibraphonist Evi Fillipou, who for the festival assembled an extended version of her ongoing "inEvitable" project. In addition to the ineffable Fillipou on vibes, percussion and singing, this was singer Zuza Jasinska, guitarists Keisuke Matsuno and Arne Braun, bassist Robert Lucaciu, drummers Marius Wankel and Jim Hart, and saxophonist Daniel Glatzel. They kicked off the set with a strikingly rhythmic piece, accentuated with rave-up vocals and crashing waves of percussion, perhaps better said, they projected a party vibe. Drawing from a panapoly of musical styles, the music shifted from lithe scatting in Greek to smokey vocal jazz to heavy rock grooves. In addition to the prominent percussion, Matsuno and Braun's guitar work brought a wide sonic palette to the stage, painting a soundscape with distorted smears and blistering jabs. High octane, tight and effervescent, it was a show surely worthy of the artist-in-residence title.

 

***

 

In the city park are a thousand baby bunnies. Every 20 minute walk from the hotel to the festival grounds along the creek and fields was a stroll through a menagerie of cuteness accompanied by a symphony of frogs, kind of a fairy-tale ready experience itself.

 

Evi Fillipou, Tomeka Reid, Luis Lopes, Angelia Niescier.  Photo by Dennis Hoeren 

Mid-morning Sunday in the castle courtyard, the next Moers Session was starting - this time, three sets. The first grouping was Evi Fillipou fresh off the previous night's success, along with Angelika Niescier, Luis Lopes and Tomeka Reid. Niescier started things off with a free-jazz blast from her saxophone, which was followed by some hovering tones from Fillipous' vibraphone. Angular jabs from Lopes' guitar and low-register strikes from Reid's cello responded in kind. It was a strong 25-minute warm up, and though short, it was unrushed, unfolding with collective purpose. The next grouping was comprised of Jonathan Schierhorn on drums, Sophie Cooper on trombone, Bella Comsom on electronics and Hyunjeong Park on gayageum. Their set began with a gentle thrum of electronics supporting the deep, round tones of the gayageum, a Korean zither. Then, following the entry of the drums and trombone, the group gelled expressively. The final set featured session organizer Jan Klare on sax, Fulco Ottervanger on keyboards, Florence Christman on electronics and Bruna Cabral on drums. Klare set the direction: a series of syncopated lines augmented by Cabral's percussion. Then came an underlying buzz from the electronics while a dark organ sound welled from the keyboards. The set soon took gathered momentum as the sax, drums and keys locked into a flowing, effusive groove. Extroverted Ottervanger injected some gentle humor into the set, dueting with Klare on a harmonium at one point and adding a sci-fi synthesizer interlude. 

 

The morning stretched out into the afternoon, lunches were eaten, music absorbed, and acquaintances old and new encountered. Then, under the late afternoon sun, the Dwarves of East Aguza took the main stage. The crowd was slowly filtering in as they began a steady brooding groove. Guitarist Sam Shalabi played a mix of rhythm and brittle, agitated melodic phrases. A beguiling mix of primitivism and middle eastern flair, it locked in with Maurice Louca's electronic pulsations perfectly. At this point, Alan Bishop's guitar merged sonically with the electronics. He soon switched to saxophone and over the mutating oscillations, he smeared notes and phrases across the musical canvas. Through the mix of exotic rhythms and droning tones, the music flowed hypnotically.

 

Between the Dwarves and the next set, a volunteer 'moersfriends' tried asking for donations from the main stage, however his pitch was drowned out by a relentless noise. Throughout the festival, from the sound system surrounding the stage, recordings of different Trump speeches played simultaneously. It was the Bösewicht (German for villain) that the hero of every fairly tale encounters. All part and parcel of the theme, it was a clever but rather disturbing reminder of the raging real world. As the break continued, paper crowns decorated by local school children were handed out to the audience so everyone could be king (or queen) for one day.

 

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth SWAY

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth SWAY offered a diversion. The group with Mitchell on flute and vocals, Coco Elysses on didley bow and vocals, JoVia Armstrong on percussion and vocals, and Zahili Gonzalez Zamora on keys (everyone also had a touch of electronics) had been formed around the concept of Afro-Folk-Futurism and their first song strove to build a confessional intimacy with the audience. Spoken words about neurodivergence were augmented by thrilling flute work and driving percussion. The group's second song already offered a sing-along part, bringing the crowd and band even closer together.

 

As the late afternoon slid slowly into dusk, it was almost time for the "Secret Concert". Migrating through the city park, past the frolicking baby bunnies and croaking frogs, early ticket buyers and other Moers friends made their way to the event hall in the recreation area, where the previous year's main concerts had been staged. There, a group conceived by Nate Wooley with percussionists Chris Corsano and Ches Smith as an 'anything goes' improvising trio, were set to perform.

 

Ches Smith, Nate Wooley, Chris Corsano. Photo by Dennis Hoeren

Wooley was welcomed to the stage by the crowd singing a happy birthday tune, but was eager go get into the set. His opening electronic tones set an atmospheric buzz. The two drummers then added an extra charge of energy. Smith soon activated his own electronics, bringing the opening fanfare to an early peak. A new tune began to then emerge, a gentle, folksy melody from the trumpet supported by percussion from Corsano. As the intensity increased, Wooley used his trumpet to create the sounds of gale winds as Corsano added the wail of whales though his own inventive, acoustic means. It was an expressive and impressive set, a real aural treat.

 

Gellért Szabó's Ideal Orchestra

On the trip back to the main festival grounds, the sun had set, and as a stillness covered the lush park, the frogs were in full song. At the main stage, the evening was wrapping up with Gellért Szabó's Ideal Orchestra, a large ensemble out of Leipzig who were performing the final installment of a piece developed as a three part fairy-tale (the other parts had been performed on the previous days). Combining improvisation, jazz, classical, a choir, and the multimedia of the giant iPhone screen, the sonically dramatic final installment brought contrasting passages of calm and turbulence with an intentional and slightly tongue-in-cheek holiness to the stage. An informal survey revealed it to be an unexpected highlight for many of the concert goers.

 

As the evening bled into the night, throughout the festival grounds and nearby churches, a tribute to 20th-century avant-garde composer Morton Feldman was just starting up. Stretching into the late evening hours, the festival commemorated the composer's 100th birthday with several performances of his well-known works, such as "Rothko Chapel" and "Melancholie des Verschwindens." A gentle coda to the day.

 

***

 

The final day of the festival began with a crushing line at the Peschkenhaus. A hot sun made the line to get in and the performance space a stifling experience. Why the wait? In the attic room of the stately 18th century manor, now a meeting space and art gallery, guitarist/oudist Gordon Grdina was set to perform with drummer Christian Lillinger and keyboardist Elias Stemeseder.

Christian Lillinger, Gordon Grdina, Elias Stemeseder

Grdina began the show on a well work electro-acoustic guitar along with taps and thwaks from Lillinger, and blips and bloops from Stemeseder. This was merely an intro to a very rhythmic improvisation that snow-balled as the textural guitar work and burbling synthesizer, pushed along by the precise percussive jabs, found their footing. For a heart-pounding ten minutes, the group pressed at full speed until a break in the tension, during which Grdina switched to the oud. The large stringed instrument projected a thumping bass sound, setting the group off in a fresh new direction. The set ended with Lillinger and Stemeseder both navigating the deep space of electronics. 

 

Sam Shalabi

A compelling solo guitar set from Sam Shalabi followed. Exploring the instrument through arpeggiated, microtonal blocks of sound and lite distortion, the Dwarves of East Aguza guitarist conjured images of specious desert landscapes with wisps of dry wind blowing swirls of sand. The notes themselves seemed less important than the mood they set. 

 

Drifting out into the heat of the early afternoon, the shady Wo die wilden Frösche klatschen stage was the next destination to catch the end of percussionist/composer Bex Burch's set. Angelika Niescier was wrapping up another fiery solo as the group segued into a gentle, unfolding piece with the band acting mainly as a choir. Long minimal interludes led to moments of feverish saxophone and, for a brief moment, it felt good to let a little time slip by in the afternoon humidity.

 

Knobil

Swiss bassist and singer Knobil was another fine discovery of the festival. A mix of singer-songwriter and a swinging free improvisation, Louise Knobil, along with the engrossing bass clarinet work of Chloé Marsigny and drumming of Vincent Andreae, played a compelling set on the main stage. Between sweet banter and wonderfully syncopated melodic songs, Knobil was a welcome late afternoon refresher.

Gordon Grdina's RU'YA

In the early evening, Gordon Grdina's RU'YA, his headlining project, took the stage. With Grdina on guitar and oud, the group featured vocalist Ghalia Benali, violinist Eylem Basaldi, keyboardist Elias Stemeseder, percussionist Hamin Honari and drummer Christian Lillinger. The group's project had begun as a commission for Berlin's Boulez Saal, a center for contemporary classical and Middle Eastern music, and seems to have taken on a life of its own. A mix of passionate, evocative music, the lyrics in Arabic expressed messages of family, loss, hope and peace against a backdrop of Arabic and Western instrumentation. The insistence of Lillinger's drumming, the deep vibrations of Grdina's oud and the intense rhythmic playing from Honari, along with the vibrant violin and keyboards made for lively, urgent music. An exciting and engaging show.

 

As the closing act for the festival, saxophonist Lakecia Benjamin brought a spirited energy that fit well into the overall eclectic-ness of the program. Her act, with a strong mix of showmanship and musicianship, can and did transcend audiences. 

 

Lakecia Benjamin

Decked out in a stylish, shiny outfit, fully in command of the stage and audience, and backed by the top-notch playing of pianist Oscar Perez, bassist Elias Bailey and drummer Dorian Phelps, her approach is one that can both satisfy many of the jazz-purists and engage far more of the jazz-curious. One could complain, for example, that her take on John Coltrane's 'My Favorite Things' hit the high-notes too soon, but then again, it also sounded great - festival audience approved - and she even threw the deep listeners a bone by quoting 'Giant Steps' at a breakneck tempo. Perez's piano work complimented the saxophonist's energy as he led the group with a spiritual tune before they ended with some high-energy funk. 

***

 

And just like that, the festival dissolved into the night: a long week end of music, more than 2,000 tickets sold, and some estimated 20,000 curious souls wandering through the free concerts and market place, taking in whatever caught their eyes and ears. And they all lived happily ever after ....

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