Peter Kowald – Discography (Jazzwerkstatt, 2014) ****½

By Dan Sorrells

Coinciding with Peter Kowald’s 70th birthday, Jazzwerkstatt has released a box set to commemorate the legacy of the late double bassist. Across four discs, music from a variety of contexts and time periods is presented, including previously unreleased music and badly needed reissues of 1990’s The Human Aspect and 1997’s Aphorisms: 26 Statements on the Situation. This music, combined with the gorgeous, exhaustive discography book that gives the set its name, makes Discography an essential celebration of Kowald’s formidable musicianship and the impressive company he kept over a nearly 40 year career.

“I want to play simple and complex at the same time. This is one of those contradictions that may never resolve, but it remains a good ideal,” Kowald once told Michael Heffley while Heffley was working on his book Northern Sun, Southern Moon. It’s an ideal he would chase until his premature death. Perhaps the closest Kowald got to a resolution was in solo performance, where the simplest of ensembles—the musician and his instrument—attempts to convey all the intricacies of that lonesome pairing. The first disc in Discography opens with such a performance, a previously unreleased solo set from 1981. As was typical with Kowald, complexity abounds: it’s 35 minutes of spirited, technically deft bass playing. Kowald was equally at home with pizzicato and arco playing, often coaxing and juxtaposing multiple simultaneous sounds out of the bass, overlapping layers of notes and harmonics. His approach was telescopic: zooming in and out, at once adjusting the focus on some fine, nuanced detail, and just as readily spinning the dial back to bring the larger instrument into view.

Later in his conversation with Heffley, Kowald said that he thought of improvised music as “having [a] strong element of both process and decision”—that improvising is as much about the process of sound-making as it is about deciding when and how to change that process. This is true not only in the moment of improvising, but also across the arc of a career, in choosing projects and collaborators. Kowald was a ceaseless collaborator, one of the original globe-trotting free jazz-men that served as the template for today’s musicians. While the diversity and sheer breadth of his partnerships may not be apparent in the musical component of Discography, it does reflect some of his most fruitful and lasting relationships with musicians like Conny Bauer, Günter ‘Baby’ Sommer, and Floros Floridis.

Despite some negligible disappointments (the short Smith/Kowald/Sommer track is hardly representative of the trio, and Kowald’s featured tracks from Grandmother’s Teaching are strange relics of tasteless 80s production), Discography’s four discs of music are of strikingly high quality. On the second disc, a cheeky quartet of Kowald, Bauer, Floridis, and Andrew Cyrille saunter through Bauer’s “Blau Blusen Blues,” Kowald’s strolling bassline underpinning the horns as they playfully subvert traditional jazz tropes. This is the first taste of Floridis, an under-appreciated musician whose lively, whip-smart reeds lend Discography much of its strength. He appears alongside the equally brilliant Vincent Chancey on The Human Aspect (the third disc), a French horn powerhouse who’s played with Sun Ra, Lester Bowie and Carla Bley among others, and who penned most of the tunes present here. His wistful, virtuosic solo on “The Spell” is a highlight. As much as it celebrates Kowald, Discography is also to be commended for rescuing these documents of Floridis and Chancey.

The set is capped with the aptly titled Aphorisms, 26 impeccably distilled nuggets of improvisational wisdom from the trio of Kowald, Floridis, and Sommer. The tracks rarely exceed two minutes, and cover an impressive amount of ground, from chimes and throat singing one minute to Middle Eastern clarinet and hand drums the next. Each “aphorism” is a decisive statement—perhaps a perfect encapsulation of Kowald’s formula from above—the execution of a musical idea just long enough to establish it clearly before wiping the slate clean and starting anew. The album was the result of two days of recording, and while the short pieces may represent creative edits culled from longer improvisations, their brisk, assertive nature is refreshing, even after nearly 20 years.

Great as it is, the real gem of this set is not the music, however. It’s the sleek, full-color, 208 page discography booklet, lovingly and painstakingly compiled by Klaus Kürvers. Kowald’s every appearance on record is chronologically represented here: from the earliest recordings with a Brötzmann-led quartet in November of 1965, to his final trio work with Alberto Braida and Giancarlo Locatelli a mere six days before his heart stopped suddenly in late 2002. Each recording gets a full page treatment, including cover art, musician information, track names and times, recording details, reissue art and information, and more. Also included are a filmography, essays and interviews (unfortunately for me in German, but this is a German release, after all), and some of Kowald’s artwork (which includes the striking cover art). Frankly, I’ve never encountered anything quite like it.

The index of musicians in the back of the discography is perhaps the most telling: a list of over 400 musicians and groups that Kowald appeared on record with (imagine the thousands of concerts, the hundreds of other musicians, dancers, artists who aren’t captured by this list). The list contains just about any name from this music you could dream of—a testament to how far Kowald’s reach was, to his solid legacy as one of the musicians who truly laid the groundwork for the global improvised music of the present.

In the end, the best compromise between simple and complex was forged in Kowald’s dialogue with others. As Discography makes clear, whether alone or with partners, Kowald was engaged in a ceaseless exploration not only of the capabilities of the bass, but of this very music and its players, probing the full spectrum of its character from the most essential forms to the limits of musical recognition. He is sorely missed.

CD 1:     

• Peter Kowald solo (previously unreleased, 1981)
• Peter Kowald, Wadada Leo Smith, Günter ‘Baby’ Sommer (previously unreleased, 1981)

CD 2:

• Peter Kowald, Conny Bauer, Floros Floridis, Andrew Cyrille (previously unreleased, 1989)
• Wolfgang Schmidtke, H.-P. Salentin, Ludwig Götz, Tobias Becker, Jan Kazda with Peter Kowald and Marilyn Mazur (from Grandmother’s Teaching, 1987)

CD 3:

• Vincent Chancey, Floros Floridis, Peter Kowald, Louis Moholo-Moholo (The Human Aspect, 1990)

CD 4:    

• Floros Floridis, Peter Kowald, Günter ‘Baby’ Sommer (Aphorisms, 1997)

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Cheryl Pyle, Max Ridgway & Randall Colbourne – Modern Art (2014) ****

By Chris Haines

Trying to capture the essence of something visual through sound can be a difficult and unenviable task.  Yes, plenty of purely instrumental music has been written by musicians which have successfully become known for this, obvious examples being the pastoral symphonies by famous classical composers Beethoven and Vaughn Williams.  However, can the visual really be captured by sound (not really) or is it more the feeling and emotional response that is conveyed through the medium that allows us to then recreate a visual spectacle of our own making, which is closely related to the original stimuli (much more likely).

To take this a step further, if the visual stimulus isn’t something that can be readily conjured up in our imaginations and is already much more abstract to our visual senses does this then make the task of recreating this in music easier or harder?

This album by Cheryl Pyle (Flute), Max Ridgway (Guitar & Guitar Synth) and Randall Colbourne (Drums) offers thirteen pieces of music for various modern visual artists such as Willem de Kooning and Jackson Pollock. Having a keen interest in modern abstract art it was hard not to think of the visual element and to somehow compare the music with the more famous examples of the artists work.  So, does the music capture the artists’ oeuvre?  This is always going to be a completely subjective answer but no more than when normally reviewing music, which is completely down to the individual’s taste and preferences anyway.

There is a great overall feel to the playing on this album, which has a very relaxed and cool vibe to it. The music stylistically seems to float between free jazz, contemporary classical and free improv, which the trio exploit to good effect from piece to piece.  The sound of the flute in jazz is an instrumental force which should be utilised more, especially based on Cheryl Pyle’s playing.  Also she is not adverse to stepping aside and allowing the guitar and drums to take centre stage on some of the tracks.  The angular melodies are delivered by the flute and guitar in a very musical and smooth way particularly on the more free jazz orientated tracks that have a good swung feel to them.  Taken on it’s own the music on this album is wonderful and is a pleasant listening experience.  With regard to the inspiration for each of the pieces and how the music relates to this, I personally, have mixed feelings.  While I can relate to the piece Music for Willem de Kooning as a general audio spectacle for the artist and his work, not all of the pieces on the album work for me in this way.  For example, Music for Mark Rothko doesn’t conjure up the monumental nature of his work or the tragic struggle within his life, with the change of instrumentation to guitar synth seeming like a token gesture to do something different.  Also, the piece for Pollock doesn’t get anywhere near the intensity of the artist or his work that contains much rhythm and complex linearity and motion in the paintings which isn’t reflected in the music.  However, this doesn’t make this a bad album and as I have already stated there is a great feel to this music.  I also enjoyed being introduced to a few artists whose work I wasn’t familiar with such as Zao Wou-Ki.  The best thing is not to get too bogged down with comparisons between the artistic mediums and just enjoy the music.

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Nate Wooley and Ken Vandermark - East by Northwest (Audiographic, 2014) *****

By Paul Acquaro

The Winter Jazz Festival hit NYC last weekend. It was a crazy scene - sold out shows, SRO venues - but there was a lot of great music. One show that really stood out was Nate Wooley and Ken Vandermark's duo set. Their concept was modeled after the combo of trumpeter Bobby Bradford and saxophonist and clarinetist John Carter, who were based out of LA during the early years of free jazz. 

This show was the second date on the tour for their new record East by Northwest, the title a reference to their own associations with New York and Chicago. What struck me immediately about the show was just how full and vibrant of a sound they were able to create with just the two horns. No doubt a great deal of this had to do with their compositional approach - melodies and counter melodies stretching out the musical fabric between them, creating an atmosphere as much as actual notes and tones - but then toss in the sheer virtuosity of their playing and it is quite an ear opening experience. I picked up the CD at the show and am pleased to report that what I heard from the stage is captured wonderfully on this album.

The opening track, 'And She Speaks', penned by John Carter, begins with a delicate melody, starting in tandem and then stretching outwards. Elements of extended technique are used to shade in the spaces a little - trills on the clarinet, sputtering on the trumpet, jumps in tempo and treatments, but always rooted - however abstractly - to the melody. 'Best Coast' is another example - the two horns begin a rapid scalar ascent to a surprisingly dissonant destination, then stop, and do it again and again. 'Call The Numbers (for Christian Marclay)' features a vivid solo from Wooley while Vandermatk employs the incidental sounds of his sax to generate additional momentum. A real highlight of the album for me is 'Deconstructed Folks (for Bobby Bradford and John Carter)', the duo starts out with an upbeat theme that soon splits into parallel steams that reconnect from time to time. 

I'll stop here with the track-by-track run down - why ruin the experience? This is a duo that will challenge and delight. Their playing is emotional, imaginative, and connected throughout. 

Check out below video of Wooley and Vandermark playing in Philadelphia and maybe you can still catch them on tour. Plus, you can get the recording over at Instant Jazz, well, right away.

Enjoy some videos from the duo's performance at Fringe Arts in Philadelphia on Jan 11th:

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Assif Tsahar, Mark Dresser, Gerry Hemingway – Code Re(a)d (Hopscotch, 2013) ****

By Troy Dostert

When you take three seasoned veterans like Assif Tsahar (tenor sax and bass clarinet), Mark Dresser (bass) and Gerry Hemingway (drums) and give them an hour to produce creative, freely improvised music, you know the results will be worthwhile.  This performance is a live recording from 2011, and it’s an excellent example of what happens when three gifted improvisers mutually combine their talents to produce music that manages to be both challenging and highly engaging.

Tsahar is dynamic and wide-ranging in the emotional arc of his playing: whether offering piercing cries and squeals (especially prominent on the record’s fiery closer, “Divided Layers”) or more languorous, mysterious passages (as evidenced on his bass clarinet playing on “Oblique Interpretations”), his intensity and relentless passion are always present.  But in many respects the record really works so successfully because of the distinctive rapport between Dresser and Hemingway.  Their ability to anticipate and respond to each other’s shifting tempos and rhythmic directions makes each track consistently surprising and, at the same time, cohesive—a truly impressive feat when it comes to free improvisation.

A great example of the trio’s empathetic conversation is on the record’s first track, “Comprehensive Passage.”  It starts fairly unobtrusively, with quiet, reserved drum work from Hemingway and a subtle but infectious ostinato phrase from Dresser.  Then, by the time Tsahar joins in with long, pleading statements, Hemingway begins to punch in with more insistent commentary on the snare drum—by which point Dresser has also become a more percussive presence as well.  And once we’re halfway in, Tsahar is blowing with abandon, with Hemingway and Dresser surging with dramatic, explosive power.  A track which starts with the three musicians tentatively searching to find the piece’s identity results in them gradually discovering it—with a vengeance—and by the end of the track’s almost ten minutes, it feels like we’ve just experienced a tightly structured, well-crafted piece of music, despite the spontaneous, unpredictable twists and turns that we’ve encountered along the way. 

A number of the tracks on the record have this character: they start with a search for the undiscovered “center” of the improvisation, and through the sympathetic conversation that ensues, that center eventually reveals itself.  And in the process, we get a seemingly endless series of shifting rhythms and textures, melodic fragments, and tempos, making for a stimulating and rewarding listening experience.  Strongly recommended!

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Kid Millions & Jim Sauter - Fountain (Family Vineyard, 2014) ***½

By Matthew Grigg

Fountain is the second release from the recently minted duo of drummer Kid Millions (John Colpitts) and sax scorcher Jim Sauter, their debut 'Boanerges' having been released via doubtmusic in 2013. Sauter is one third of 'snuff jazz' heavy hitters Borbetomagus, and Millions, of post-modern rock omnivores Oneida and the percussion led Man Forever, may be familiar to regular readers after 2014's Record Store Day release with J. Spaceman. Over the course of just over half an hour the ferocity of their pugilism here both whitens knuckles and cauterises styli.

Sauter is not heavily documented outside of his 35 year tenure with Borbetomagus, their 'free jazz/free noise/simultaneously both yet completely other' sound is so hermetically sealed that it is almost impossible to imagine any of the trio playing outside of the group's confines. However Sauter is instantly recognisable, his tone laid relatively bare in this context and the distorted contours of his lines feel all the more barbarous for it. His playing, whilst often molten, deploys an overt musicality behind the bluster of overblown tones and distortion pedal fuzz, the incendiary feel offset by some (relative) delicacy when moving through the lower gears. Its a shame that Sauter hasn't been more active in a wider circle of improvised settings, one can't help but feel his approach would have really injected some fire and confrontation (à la Bailey at his most mischievous).

Millions utilises a hyper kinetic approach which creates a sense of perpetual inertia throughout, often straining at the leash as if goaded by Sauter, at times pulling the sax along with excitable eagerness. Millions is in fine company here, the few recordings which find Sauter alongside a drummer (mostly as a consequence of his association with the criminally underrated/under-recorded guitarist Rudolph Grey) have seen him sparring with the likes of Rashied Ali and Beaver Harris, direct comparison with whom would do Millions a disservice. His approach, which has drawn criticism from some corners, is entirely different, favouring variation in rhythmic density to explore dynamic range. Consequently there is a feeling that the tension is never fully released as Millions never fully backs down, what could be read as a lack of variety is more likely a dialectic devise which ensures the duo's propulsive modus operandi is always in play.

Fountain, for all its energy and good work, never feels consistently as revelatory as the duo's debut, something possibly attributable to the former's higher risk live concert setting vs. the higher fidelity/lower risk nature of this studio session. Regardless, it is a fine recording, full of vim and vigour, vitality, velocity and violence, an insistent release from a duo with ideas to burn and the potential to last.

Available as LP/FLAC/MP3

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Henri Roger, Benjamin Duboc, Didier Lasserre - Parole Plongée (IMR, 2014) ***½

By Dan Sorrells

It’s always interesting to see how a rhythm section adjusts to different playing partners. Last year, bassist Benjamin Duboc and drummer Didier Lasserre reprised their trio with Daunik Lazro on Sens Radiants. Here, Lazro’s inimitable sax is swapped out with Henri Roger’s touch on the ivories. Of course, in a modern piano trio the “rhythm section” often gleams in unorthodox hues, so perhaps we should just say that it’s always a pleasure to hear familiar minds and hands sparring with exciting, unfamiliar ones. Duboc contacted Roger after hearing some of his improvisations online, and, after catching a duo show of Duboc and Lasserre, Roger teamed up with them for the recording that would become Parole Plongée.

The sound of the group is not unlike Duboc and Lasserre’s trio with pianist Jobic Le Masson (Free Unfold Trio), though less brooding and a bit more caffeinated. Parole Plongée starts off with a beautiful solo by Duboc, which drifts along lyrically as Roger and Lasserre gradually throw in support. As the pace quickens, a strong energy percolates just below the surface, signaling not tension, but enthusiasm. As “Sables” progresses, a call-and-response develops between Roger and Duboc, a playful dispute negotiated through Lasserre’s thrumming mediation.

“Altermutations” is built out of stacks of piano notes—sustain pedal firmly planted—creating a rippling pool of sound, over which Lasserre’s cymbals rustle in the wind. Roger has a thoughtful approach—a light touch, well articulated. He’s interested in harmony, and often lets chords hang in the air for a moment, savoring the decay and soaking in how his compatriots choose to respond. In some ways, the track reminds me of the cool, Nordic aura of a lot of Bobo Stenson’s trio work, Christensen and Motian lurking in Lasserre’s brushwork.

Parole Plongée is nice in that it strikes an attractive balance between the carefully selected and arranged sounds typical of lowercase improvisation and the more fast-paced virtuosity of free jazz. “Thé Ou Café?” is a loud little sprint—it’s the most animated of the bunch (clearly they picked the second option), lasting less than 4 minutes and prefacing the long, introspective “Ré-Horizontalisé.” Things briefly boil over as they reach a crescendo in the final minutes, Roger heaving clusters of deep notes into the foray.

In all, a satisfying little album, for sure.

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Hidden Forces Trio – Crows are Council (Knockturne/Clamshell, 2014) ***

By Julian Eidenberger

 The “dark jazz” tag has been bandied about quite a bit in recent years, and it’s a concept that has some appeal, at least potentially. The premise seems to be to infuse jazz with a sinister mood more readily associated with various metal subgenres. However, the problem is that many practitioners don’t live up to the promise of the concept and end up sounding like Miles Davis circa Ascenseur pour l’echafaud, only much less interesting. Hailing from Sevilla, the Hidden Forces Trio chooses a somewhat different and potentially more interesting path than reimagining Miles Davis for a metal crowd. While two thirds of the group – the rhythm section of Borja Diaz on drums and Marco Serrato on double bass – have a background in the doom metal band Orthodox (Southern Lord Records), it becomes clear soon enough that this is no mere dabbling. They take their cues from both the expressive and the abstract ends of the free improv spectrum, creating music that avoids the pitfalls of clichéd and often tedious “cinematic” takes on jazz.

That said, Crows are Council, their second full-length, displays some weaknesses, as well. Opening track Invocation/Crows are Council is emblematic of some of those imperfections: Beginning with a series of sustained tones from clarinetist Gustavo Dominguez – which apparently serve as the “invocation” –, the cut soon lets loose a barely controlled racket in an early Brötzmann vein; it’s as though the spirit invoked is furious for having been roused from slumber. Apart from the adrenaline rush, however, the track doesn’t leave a lasting impression, as it emphasizes sheer force at the expense of careful interaction. Chalybs, which is the second cut here, really should have been the opener, as it shows the band at its best; it sees Dominguez engaging in jumpy, somewhat Dolphy-esque runs, while the rhythm section pushes onward into punk-jazz territory. Thimble Capp is in a similar vein, albeit perhaps more Ayler-ish, with its initial melodic content slowly turning sour.

But the really “dark” stuff is delivered in the form of El Ejecutor and Gcod, two rather long and slow-paced tracks. The latter track is the more interesting one; it starts out with an ominous didgeridoo-like drone, only to give way to creaking and grinding noises produced by both clarinet and bass. It’s like standing inside a decaying house and listening to the uncanny sounds which herald its impending collapse. While Crows are Council is not without obvious flaws, tracks like these point the way to a potential new meaning of the term “dark jazz”, beyond (Imho) often vapid “cinematic” gestures.

Listen:

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Lawnmower - Lawnmower II (Clean Feed, 2014) ****

By Paul Acquaro

Ah, memories ... I recall downloading Lawnmower's first album, West, from eMusic at Stef's enthusiastic recommendation. Then, I remember falling for it, becoming enthralled by the two guitars spinning ambient textures, Luthar Grey's understated drums and Jim Hobb's earthy saxophone. I also had the luck to catch a performance at the a sweltering Stone on a hot summer night a few years back.

Well, Lawnmower is back, sort of ... the line up is revised but they have not lost their natural post-rock sense of adventure. Replacing the dual guitars of Geoff Farina and Dan Littleton is violinist Kaethe Hostetter and electric bassist Winston Bramey. Fortunately, the loss of the fabulous guitar work is deftly mitigated by Hostetter and Bramey whose mix of melodic intent and pulsating bass generates its own captivating nuances and complements the inventive work of Grey and Hobbs.

Lawnmower II opens up with 'Good Beat' - and it's just that - a good beat that stretches out unhurriedly over 8 minutes. Violin and sax dance lightly around the chugging bass and drums. Hostetter offers up dark riffs and Hobbs responds in kind. The back beat on 'Space Goat' also chugs along unhurriedly -- it's 12 minutes of groove and mood, featuring wah-wah violin and fuzz bass with extended solos. Hobbs is in the foreground on 'Cartoon', where his rapidly ascending and descending lines stitches together the frenetic free playing of his companions. The aptly titled 'Walk in the Park' follows and provides a nice melodic bridge to the standout 'Tiny Wing'. Digging deep into itself, the track features the violin and bass in an introverted space jam that threatens to violently implode.

Lawnmower, the band, finds its inspiration in ambient spaces and deliberate rhythms, melodic snippets and extended probing passages. Though a new model for 2014, Lawnmower is a different machine but still comes highly recommended.

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Peter Evans Quintet - Destination: Void (More Is More Records, 2014) ****½

By Matthew Grigg

"The Quintet is really a kind of Disneyland for me - a place where my weirdest, wildest and most unreasonable ideas can take shape. All the members…have a “no limits” mentality towards music, they all have a very broad range and highly varied skill set…Most importantly, the players in the band share a certain value system and attitude towards performance…engaging with sound and space with expressive energy takes precedence over all other concerns." - Peter Evans

'Destination: Void' is the second outing from Peter Evans Quintet, following 2011's 'Ghosts'. The title, and inspiration for the thematic material, comes from Sci-fi author Frank Herbert's book of the same name. Perhaps best known for his Dune novels, Herbert's narrative concerns the creation of an artificial consciousness, circumstances are engineered to create a high pressure environment in which brilliance might arise out of exigency. The same could be said of the Peter Evans Quintet. Over the course of the album's 69 minutes, 'Destination: Void' consistently demonstrates great ambition, the gauntlet thrown down by the writing matched at each turn by the improvisers. Evans is the sole composer here but the work feels very much like that of five equal contributors, each voice central to realising this complex, at times difficult, but always engaging music. 

A criticism which seems to follow the trumpeter is that on occasion he can become lost in the brilliance of his own technique. However here his approach feels totally vindicated, even at their most dexterous his choices feel precisely judged and never overdone. When he does extend, the daring displayed establishes precedent which the quintet follows; a high wire balancing act, total commitment to the idea, faith in ones ability, and no looking down. Evans described Ron Stabinsky (piano & prepared piano), the one line-up change to 'Ghosts', as a "secret weapon, watch out!" Indeed he seems the perfect pianist for Evans, equally as comfortable in the liminal zone between Jazz and Contemporary Classical music as the leader himself. The interplay between Stabinsky and drummer Jim Black is first rate and a feature throughout. Black deploys a lateness of attack similar to that found in Monk's playing, the kind of metronomic, precise placement and swing-less groove which Alan Myers made a career of. Blancarte's bass sits between elements, waiting for the space to interject jagged bowed lines or adding muscular form to the percussion. The live electronics deployed by Sam Pluta arguably do as much to shape the music as Evans' composing, a deftly woven combination of live signal processing, looping and carefully crafted sound design which at times feels like the only adhesive element of a music stretched to breaking point. 

Evans will have no doubt have garnered his fair share of column inches recently, however most of these will have been spent in the ultimately futile discussions surrounding MOPDTK's 'Blue', when they really ought to have been focussed on ensuring that 'Destination: Void' receives the level of exposure and praise that a recording of this scope and audacity merits. 

Peter Evans - trumpet & piccolo trumpet

Sam Pluta - live electronics

Ron Stabinsky - piano & prepared piano

Tom Blancarte - bass

Jim Black - drums and percussion

Excerpt from 'Tresillo' can be found here .

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FreeJazzBlog On Air - Jan 9th

Just a reminder  Free Jazz on Air, co-hosted by our very own Martin Schray, broadcasts this Friday at 11 p.m. on German public radio station SWR 2 (Südwestrundfunk 2).

Martin will be joining host Julia Neupert on air for another hour of Free Jazz talk and music, this session will profile a prolific free jazz oriented record label. 

A link to the show is available for on-demand listening for a week after the broadcast. Check out the announcement (in German).

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