By Martin Schray “The willing suspension of disbelief” was coined by the English poet, critic and aesthetician Samuel Taylor Coleridge. The theory claims that in the arts and literature, we are prepared to accept certain features that in other circumstances would be dismissed as false or artificial - things which could not take place in the real world - because they actually sharpen our appreciation of that world. It‘s through the artifice of the theatre or of a movie that we gain insights not apparent in the mundane processes of the everyday: the magic that lies beneath the surface of humdrum reality.
Frank Paul Schubert (ss) and Rudi Fischerlehner (dr) have been acquainted for a while. Fischerlehner founded Grid Mesh with Schubert (and guitarist Andreas Willers) but left after their second album. The two share the same rehearsal room in Berlin however, and on a change of shifts they often jam. Eventually, they decided to record their improvisations – the microphone set up is perfect, especially for the drums. Willing Suspension of Disbelief is the result. The music was recorded in an afternoon, and it’s everything they recorded, in the order it was played. And here - according to Schubert - the title comes into play. The “willing suspension of disbelief“ refers to the post-production process: what you want keep for an album, what’s acceptable for release. In the end they decided to keep everything, even passages which drag. The album‘s the unadulterated result of that afternoon session.
The key improvisation is the 27-minute “Tracks“, which contains everything from tender moments to harsh outbreaks. At the beginning Fischerlehner strokes his instrument more than he actually drums, while Schubert prefers long, persistent notes. But soon the track changes. The character of the music switches between modern classical, eastern and European free jazz, picking up speed and becoming more muscular as it proceeds. The improvisation is dynamic and unpredictable – it’s never clear know where the music is headed. Both explore the full potential of their instruments, sometimes humorously. There’s another twist: the track almost peters out after sixteen minutes, but manages to recover into classic free jazz mode. It even swings here and there.
Schubert’s playing sounds like a combination of Evan Parker and Steve Lacy, and his breakneck pace reminds me of a very free Jackie McLean, but ultimately he has his own voice. Fischerlehner is a drummer who stands in the European improv tradition of Paul Lytton or Paul Lovens, using extended materials he really communicates with Schubert, it’s like two old friends chatting on the sofa in the afternoon. The Willing Suspension of Disbelief is a little gem, sparkling amongst the other excellent releases we’ve had in 2015. Schubert has said that if only one of his albums survived, he’d be happy for it to
be this one. Worth checking out.
As debut records go, this one did catch me off guard a bit. Typically, debut discs, especially by saxophonists, often go for the jugular, in an attempt to remove all doubt concerning the leader’s legitimacy as a leader. Most importantly, demonstrating one’s chops and versatility becomes the central priority. The best example from last year would be Kamasi Washington’s The Epic, an exceedingly ambitious triple-disc release that all but shouts for recognition at every turn through Washington’s forceful playing and the stylistic range of his composing (as well as the over-the-top song titles: if one’s first track is called “Change of the Guard” you’d better have something to say). But this self-titled, two-disc release by Norwegian saxophonist Mette Henriette Martedatter Rølvåg (or simply Mette Henriette as she prefers to be called) is quite different. Rather than trying to overwhelm the listener with her prowess on the instrument, she instead chooses a more inviting approach—drawing the listener into the record, by almost imperceptible subtleties, only to reveal her technical proficiency gradually in less overt ways. In the process she creates an intriguing, and rather beguiling, debut statement.
It is perhaps most telling that Henriette’s musical background lies in free jazz rather than straightahead or traditional jazz. Her interests lie more in the texture of sound and ego-less collaboration than in the typical head-solo-head framework (with emphasis on the solo, of course) that is so common, particularly in the States, for training young musicians in the fundamentals of jazz. A result of this is that on most of the cuts of this record, one would have no idea who the “leader” is. (Indeed, Henriette doesn’t even play on a number of them.) Melodies are as likely to be presented and developed by the other instruments as by Henriette, who is often content merely to float over the top of the music, sometimes by filling in harmony or adding breaths, tones and sounds rather than playing the core of the tune. And for that matter, the cuts on this album aren’t really “songs,” but rather melodic fragments, sometimes very short, with over half of them under two minutes. Compositional complexity isn’t the goal here, but rather the careful, deliberate articulation of a particular musical idea or figure.
The first disc is a trio, with Henriette complemented by Johan Lindvall on piano and Katrine Schiøtt on cello. These 15 pieces are the most effective on the record, with the subtle interplay of the three musicians disarmingly affecting. Lindvall shares Henriette’s “less is more” aesthetic, being content to play repeated patterns rather than look for opportunities to display dazzling technique. And Schiøtt’s contributions are similarly effective, whether providing pizzicato counterpoint or bowed passages. There’s also a great deal of silence on this disc: opportunities to take in the sheer beauty of just a few notes, gracefully played. A nice example is the suitably titled “The Void,” in which Lindvall’s two-note piano figure is shaped by quiet, episodic bowing from Schiøtt and sustained single notes from Henriette. The second disc, with a larger ensemble including Lindvall and Schiøtt but adding a string and horn section, isn’t quite as gripping, largely because the 19 pieces feel a bit disconnected, lacking the cohesion of the first disc. Some of the tracks are more conventionally jazz-based, while others have more of a contemporary classical feel. It also seems as though Henriette didn’t know at times quite what she wanted to do with the larger tonal palette on this disc; the miniature fragments and figures used by the trio didn’t translate quite as effectively to the larger group setting. Even so, there are a number of interesting moments to savor here as well, as for example on “Veils Ever After,” where just the strings sketch out a haunting passage, or “I,” a slow-developing but powerful piece in which the entire ensemble provides a post-bop structure over which Henriette’s compelling and fiery solo reveals that yes, she can show off a bit when she needs to.
Henriette is someone to keep track of in the future, for sure. A very promising release.
Oh yes, trumpet-bass-drums trios are still to my liking, and quite a lot even. Maybe somewhat late, but here are three albums which should not be missed by fans of the format, or fans of jazz tout court, and interestingly enough, two of those albums are led by bass-players.
Maciej Garbowski, Piotr Damasiewicz & William Soovik - Sesto Elemento (Fundacja Sluchaj, 2015) ****½
The first one is led by Maciej Garbowski on double bass, with Piotr Damasiewicz on trumpet and William Soovik on drums. It is a brilliant journey into free improvisation, with the three instruments coloring space with broad sweeps or refined details, going deep into uncharted emotional territories, with sounds that are at times as liberating as they are oppressive, full of anguish and anxiety, or with blasts of joy, it is hard to tell, with other sentiments in between, the things without words but all too real, the feelings that are beyond expression in everyday life but who get their moment here, weird and wild, and so sensitive and moving and true. That is the 'sixth sense' of the title, revealing what can not be understood, and the way this trio does it is absolutely magnificent, compelling from beginning to end, and without exaggeration one of the most fascinating trumpet trios I've heard in years. What is even more to their credit is the use of their instruments, with little extended techniques, fully voiced trumpet and deep bass sounds and rustling percussion together creating an amazing listening experience.
Highly recommendeed!
Max Johnson Trio - Something Familiar (Fresh Sound New Talent/Bandcamp, 2015) ****
The second one is this nice album by the Max Johnson Trio, led by bassist Max Johnson, with the omnipresent Kirk Knuffke on cornet and Ziv Ravitz on drums. The eight tracks are composed by Johnson, yet as can be expected leave much to the other band members to fill in. That makes it anything but 'familiar' as the title might wrongly suggest (although the theme vaguely reminds me of a Don Cherry tune), and sure it bops and dances with joy, and sure, the themes are tight and the band is disciplined, yet they break through the mould which increases the joy and the fun even more, adding surprises and lots of space for the other musicians (listen to the great drums solo and further leading on 'Cold Blood'). 'Hammer Song' is another one worth mentioning, with a title that does correspond to the music, and a great bass solo by the leader. Only 'Les Vague' (sic) and 'Wind Song' - with great arco playing by Johnson - are melancholy and meditative, the other tracks are quite upbeat and uptempo.
A real treat.
Josh Berman Trio - A Dance And A Hop (Delmark, 2015) ****
More fun and musical joy is to be heard on this album, with Josh Berman on cornet, Jason Roebke on bass, and Frank Rosaly on drums. Here the title is more correct, because 'a dance and a hop' is exactly what you get. Also starting with boppish foundations, the trio demonstrates again that the whole can be greater than the sum of its parts. This is highly entertaining music, but then of the best kind, clever, inventive, creative with great interaction, and wonderful playing full of little surprises, which is so good, that it made me laugh out loud several times out of sheer joy. On 'Blues' Berman solidly colors outside of the lines, despite the gentle theme. On 'Your Uncle' Roebke gives us some foot-tapping bass solo, and 'Luggage' is a great drum piece with a trio outro. And 'Bridges' is so jazzy and great that you wonder why it took humanity so long to invent jazz.
The Unlimited Festival in Wels, Austria is one of the best places to explore free and creative, genre-bending music. It is not the diverse and well-chosen performances and musicians -- 29 performance in three days -- since many festivals feature many more concerts, but also its explorative atmosphere that balances wisely the experimental and the demanding with musicians and outfits that have already won over the audience, trusted by the many repeat visitors that for many years come from all parts of Europe. Adding to that, the festival has an intimate and close atmosphere that enables a constant and direct contact between the musicians and the audience, thus cultivating a strong, supportive and global community to the unique musical art.
The 29th edition of the Unlimited Festival had few headlines. The festival program was curated by Austrian electronics innovator and music theoretician Christof Kurzmann, and thus titled after his independent label Charhizmatic Music. The festival was dedicated to free jazz giant {{Ornette Coleman}}, who left this planet last June, and offered an impressive exhibition of Coleman's vinyl covers and its opening performance was an homage to the late master. And the festival performances were held under the projected and most relevant slogan throughout Europe: Refugees welcome.
Kurzmann devised a rich program that featured his interest in many aspects of improvisation, typical to the Unlimited Festival three decades legacy, ranging from free jazz to free improvisation, from minimalist and avant-garde to contemporary music and from art-rock to experimental-techno. The 29 performances were divided between the big hall of Alter Schlachthof, where the full sets were performed, and shorter solo ones, between the long ones, in the nearby new temporary hall, titled the Extra Room.
First Night
The opening performances of the Unlimited Festival are always unique and this year was no exception. A new ad-hoc quartet - Harmolodic Affection - offered a moving homage to the art of the late Coleman, featuring American master sax and trumpet player Joe McPhee and drummer Michael Zerang with French, Vienna-based clarinet player and vocalist Isabelle Duthoit and Christof Kurzmann, playing his electronics ppooll software. From the opening minimalist reimagination of Coleman’s “Sadness” (originally recorded on Town Hall, 1962, ESP-Disk, 1965), arranged for voice and electronics, it was clear that this quartet takes Coleman seminal ideas about free, creative music to new terrains.
McPhee introduced later his song-poem “Old Eyes”, written as a dedication to Coleman, saying that the sadness in the eyes of Coleman mirrored the wisdom of the ages. In a way, a similar wisdom characterized this quartet. The wisdom to create highly individual sounds that morphed into provocative but highly emotional music, and the freedom to challenge any musical convention, even Coleman ideas about free jazz. The passionate, irreverent arrangements of McPhee’s “The Loneliest Woman”, followed by the concluding, iconic “Lonely Woman”, with Kurzmann reciting the sad lyrics in a quiet, sober voice, stressed how Coleman art is still inspiring and relevant for today and coming ages. Hopefully, this excellent quartet will keep on performing.
As often happens in this festival, the spirit changed completely in the next set. The Naples-based Duo Marinare - vocalist and accordionist Cristina Vetrone and vocalist and percussionist Enza Alessandra Prestia - entertained the audience with a passionate set of Italian folk songs and colorful stories about them. The funny dialog with the surprised audience even included an offer to date these two charming ladies.
Irène Schweizer and Louis Moholo-Moholo
The next set introduced two legends of free jazz - Swiss pianist Irène Schweizer and South-African drummer Louis Moholo-Moholo. Their collaborations date back to the mid-sixties when Moholo, then a member of the exiled Chris McGregor's Blue Notes, settled with his group in Switzerland for a while. The two recorded an acclaimed live duo album almost thirty years ago (released on Intakt, 1987), and their performance followed this album - free, rhythmic arrangements of South African songs and anthems, some even penned by the Blue Notes musicians. There was nothing spectacular in this performance, still, it was a very emotional ones. The powerful themes of these songs are still moving, as their optimistic and compassionate messages, and both Schweizer and Moholo-Moholo sounded intense and energetic.
The first night ended with the Dutch Tobias Delius Quartet - Delius on tenor sax, Tristan Honsinger on cello, Joe Williamson on double bass and Han Bennink on drums. This quartet of four experienced improvisers and eccentric individuals introduced another blend of free jazz, moving organically between tightly composed segments, to wild, erratic exchange of ideas and dynamics, spiced with generous doses of humor. Bennink played only on the snare drum, swinging with his typical shtick as banging the drum with his legs or drumming on the floor. He and the restless-talkative Honsinger pushed for spontaneous chaos while Delius expressive sax and Williamson solid reserved bass playing anchored this ecstatic playful interplay.
In the Extra Room: The format of this small space and the limited time allocated for each set - 15 to 20 minutes - forced the musicians to offer the essence of their art. The first day presented three female composer-performers. Austrian Pianist Katharina Klement offered her unique extended technique of the piano, playing inside the piano and on its strings, creating a series of arresting sounds. Slovenian pianist Kaja Draksler played a brilliant set, full of imagination, humor and depth, alternating between melodic segments and experimental investigation of the piano full sonic spectrum inside-out. Last one was Austrian bass and contrabass clarinet player Susanna Gartmayer, member of the avant-rock group 'broken.hearts.collector', who played a powerful set that stressed her extended breathing techniques and clever sense of structuring her pieces, blending her searching tone with a commanding manner of structuring complex narratives.
Second Day This day opened with two afternoon concerts, both offering demanding and provocative perspectives on the very essence of music and its basic elements - silence, space, audience and ultimately sounds. The first one was at the Medien Kultur Haus gallery and introduced the Berlin-based trombonist Hilary Jeffery and electronics generator Werner Dafeldecker, co-founder of the minimalist Viennese quartet Polwechsel, and stressed the minimalist process of sketching of sounds. The second one, held at the beautiful Im Pavillon, featured Argentinian trumpeter Leonel Kaplan and Viennese electronics player and programming expert Klaus Filip, playing sinus waves. This set featured a music that was so close to silence, disturbed only by elusive, fragments of minimalist sounds that outlined the possible articulations of this meeting - breathes, delicate electronic hums, the touches of the hands on the instruments and the contemplative, spare blows.
The first set in the evening, back in the Alter Schlachthof, continued the afternoon experimentalist vein. The quartet Scanning Grisey - Austrian double bass player Uli Fussenegger, bass sax player Gerald Preinfalk, Swiss contrabass clarinet player Ernesto Molinari and Kurzmann on ppooll - performed a reimagination of the composition "Anubis, Nout" (1983) by French composer Gérard Grisey (1946-1998). Grisley, known for his spectral compositional technique, was inspired by the mythological Egyptian god Anubis, who protected the dead, weighing their souls and deciding their fates, and the goddess, Nut, who, according to the myth, swallowed the sun every evening and gave birth to it every morning, in this composition Anubis represent the reversal laws of harmony while Nut resumes its normal laws. The quartet arranged the composition into a fascinating tone poem that investigated methodically the spectrum of deep, resonating and sustained tones and its overtones, with great attention to detail, leaving only the resourceful Fussenegger for free improvised solos.
The following set featured the Berlin-based quartet The Pitch - clarinet player Michael Thieke, harmonium player Boris Baltschun, double bass player Koen Nutters and vibes player Morten J. Olsen. Its set consisted of repetitive dark and long drone patterns, called by the quartet as “liquid music”, with an arresting focus and nuanced individual playing but with no solos, except few fleeting ones by Olsen.
Sidsel Endresen
The atmosphere changed again in the following set by Norwegian vocal artist and master improviser Sidsel Endresen. She has developed in recent years her own, highly idiosyncratic and expressive vocal language, deconstructing any conventional grammar, spoken and sung in an alien gibberish yet a very communicative one and delivered in a colorful story-like manner. Endresen improvised playfully on several vocal-stories themes with a sharp sense of invention and humor but concluded her set too fast, leaving the audience eager for more.
Hope
The spirit intensified towards midnight when a new super-group, Hope, in one of its first performances, began its set. The group featured German, Seoul-based reeds and electronics player Alfred 23 Harth, British drummer-percussionist Chris Cutler, known as a member of the legendary British art-rock Henry Cow, Japanese innovative guitarist Kazuhisa Uchihashi and electric bass player Mitsuru Nasuno, a frequent collaborator of the free-minded Japanese musicians as Otomo Yoshihide, Keiji Haino and Tatsuya Yoshida and a member in Uchihashi’s Altered States group. Harth and Cutler collaborated in the eighties in the avant-rock Cassiber, and Hope sounded at times as an updated version of the musical ideas explored with this seminal group. Hope's fantastic set offered a kaleidoscopic, frantic ride of intense, wild ideas, virtuoso solos and group improvisation, drawing elements from free jazz, prog rock, spoken word, noise and electronics. The hyperactive Harth alternated between tenor sax, pocket trumpet, poetry reciting, bass clarinet and noisy electronics. Uchihashi added spectacular electric guitar and daxphons solos. Cutler massive drumming and Nasuno rock-solid pulse held these intense, volcanic eruptions, locking this set in a driving, explosive pulse.
Ventil
The second night ended with a late-night, invigorating set by the Viennese quartet Ventil, consisting of guitarists end electronics players Peter Kutin and Florian Kindlinger, vintage analog synthesizers and electronics player Michael Lahner and drummer Katharina Ernst, augmented with light structures by Conny Zenk. This group just released its self-produced, self-titled debut vinyl on its own independent label. Ventil merged industrial sounds with minimalist techno and ambient. Its dramatic set sounded like an inspiring, multi-layered blend of a disciplined, late incarnation of King Crimson, spiced with nuanced walls of noise and driven by dramatic, hypnotic pulse of techno, dictated by the charismatic Ernst. This promising group that deserve a wider recognition.
In the Extra Room: This small space hosted two brilliant Austrian pianists - Elisabeth Harnik and Manon Liu-Winter. Both suggested two different, highly inventive and personal approaches to the piano as an infinite sound generator, playing simultaneously on the keyboard and inside the piano while attaching various. objects to its strings, creating an intriguing spectrum of sounds. Austrian Drummer Didi Kerm set was explosive, full of humorous and inventive ideas, charged with infectious, driving energy. Slovenian vocal artist Irena Tomažin presented her unique, highly expressive vocal language, composed of broken syllables dressed as emotional cries.
Third Day
The last day of the festival opened with an afternoon screening of the French film “Les grandes répétitions: Cecil Taylor ou la découverte du free jazz” (1968), directed by composer Luc Ferrari & Gérard Patris. This film highlights the era when European intellectual elite began to appreciate the Afro-American free jazz and its political and subversive ideas. The film presented Taylor in his Parisian stay, rehashing with his group and talking in short cryptic sentences about his upbringing, his inspiration and his personal rejection of Western culture, including European And American music and composers, saying: "they do not come from our community".
Soon after, in the picturesque Im Pavillon, the only afternoon concert began, suggesting another, altogether different interpretation to the concept of free music. The Berlin-based duo The International Nothing - clarinet players Kai Fagaschinski and Michael Thieke, who played with The Pitch the night before, played minimalist, delicate compositions. Both sounded most of the times times as one, rich sonic entity, mirroring and multiplying the fragile, timbral spectrum of the clarinets, but at times extended the musical ideas of the other in a highly poetic manner. This beautiful set stressed the duo somehow distant emotional approach and dry sense of humor, perfectly captured in its albums titles, Less Action, Less Excitement, Less Everything and The Dark Side of Success (both on Ftarri, 2010 and 2014).
The opening set of the evening performances featured another duo of sonic explorers - British sax master John Butcher and French pianist Sophie Agnel. This set was an urgent, provocative journey in otherworldly and inventive sonic textures, surprising in its weird sounds, even for those who already know the art of both Butcher and Agnel. Both investigated the sonic possibilities of their instruments - Agnel hammering the strings of the prepared piano and creating series of resonating overtones while Butcher kept exploring the tenor and soprano saxophones as wind generators, creating gentle feedback sounds by bringing the tenor sax bell close to the mikes and using his inventive extended breathing techniques. But. as true masters of their instruments, Butcher and Agnel knew how to inject humor and sense of drama to their dense textures.
Next played Swedish sax player Anna Högberg’s all-female group Attack!, featuring tenor sax player Malin Wättring and Elin Larsson, pianist Lisa Ullén, double bass player Elsa Bergman and drummer Anna Lund. This group won the audience from its first notes. Högberg, member of Mats Gustafsson's Fire! Orchestra and leader of the power trio Dog Life, presented her and Bergman’s well-crafted compositions that encompass free and modern jazz sensibilities, fusing intensity and warmth, imagination and flowing energy, rich, expansive sound with beautiful melodies. These compositions left enough room for the individual musicians personalities to contribute their own personal interpretations. Attack! presents a new generation of gifted musicians. Soon it will release its debut album, one of the promising ones of 2016.
The next set was titled as “Songs about Love and other Relationship”, and featured Michael Zerang, known as a free-spirited drummer, this time as a singer-songwriter-guitarist. Zerang surprised all as a great storyteller who knows how to entertain the listeners with funny tales about impossible loves, delivered by his rich, warm voice and effective bluesy guitar playing. His songs sounded as drawing inspiration from the sensuality of folk singer Greg Brown, the humor of Texan songwriter Terry Allen, but rooted in domestic, urban hallucinations. One day Zerang should do justice to these great songs and record them. Experimental Singer-songwriter-guitarist Carla Bozulich completed this set with a short string of sad, heartbreaking songs, bearing her most vulnerable side. Bozulich fragile, emotionally intense delivery reached its climax in a solo vocal interpretation of a traditional Celtic love ballad about a woman crying the loss of a dead soldier, her lover.
Again, the next set changed the course completely, this time with two Austrian sonic conceptualists and long-time collaborators - guitarists and electronic players Christian Fennesz and Burkhard Stangl. Both weaved an intense, multifaceted loud electric storms where the manipulated and the effects-laden sounds of the guitars fed the electronics set and vice versa. Fennesz and Burkhard alternated between dense, noisy textures and atmospheric segments characterized with peaceful, cinematic qualities, all with a great sense of drama and structure.
The festival final concert was an energetic, uplifting set of the DKV Trio - drummer Hamid Drake, double bass player Kent Kessler and tenor sax and clarinet player Ken Vandermark -its last concert of a short European tour. The trio showed its deep rhythmic interplay, as all three explored and fed the hard driving dynamics. DKV Trio set highlighted the trio telepathic understanding and passionate energy, perfected by countless performances, tours and recordings, spanning now 21 years of playing together. The trio kept gaining more and more momentum and power throughout this joyful set.
Mats Gustafsson
In the Extra Room: German Thomas Lehn opened this evening with his innovative exploration of the sonic spectrum of a vintage analog synthesizer and electronics, creating dense textures, disturbed by surprising noises. Mats Gustafsson, clearly the most popular solo set throughout this festival, played a highly commanding set with the baritone and slide saxes pushing himself to wild, muscular wails and cries, but also offering moving and gentle blows. Vocal artist Agnes Hvizdalek suggested another approach for free improvising voice, using her vocal to create abstract, almost silent language, Turntables master Dieb13 improvised playfully on 3 turntables, mixing rare Sun Ra vinyls with dance and electronics sounds. Last was trumpeter Franz Hautzinger who played a wise and humorous set that highlighted his minimalist technique.
Next year will be the festival 30th anniversary. Highly recommended for all.
The passing of pianist Paul Bley is a tough way start to the New Year, especially coming after the loss of Ornette Coleman this past summer. Fortunately, Bley leaves behind a massive and masterful discography. As a tribute, we present some of our favorites:
Paul Bley Quintet – Barrage (ESP Disk, 1965)
Recorded in 1964, shortly after the historic “October Revolution in Jazz” concert series in New York, the power and incision of this quintet cuts through the slightly muffled sound, on which Bley is joined by Dewey Johnson (trumpet) Marshall Allen (alto saxophone), Eddie Gomez (double bass) and Milford Graves (percussion). Ornette is a pervasive influence, in both the way the tunes are rattled out in abbreviated unison at the outset and close of each piece, and the hyperactive ‘barrage’ of the ensemble, at times sounding like Ornette’s Free Jazz, compressed onto the head of a pin. The aptly named ‘Batterie’ is a sign of Graves’ contribution, he and Gomez providing a bubbling platform for the solos, never allowing the music to settle. The compositions are all by Carla Bley, and the quintet manages to calm itself for one number, the lovely ‘And How the Queen’. The introspective side of Bley’s music would predominate in later years, with only occasional flashes of this kind of revolutionary fervour.
Paul Bley Trio – Blood (Fontana, 1966)
My pick from the ground-breaking piano trio albums recorded by Bley in the Sixties, where he’s joined by Mark Levinson on double bass (of later hi-fi fame) and Barry Altschul, drums. Bley showed an alternative means of musical development from the trios of Bill Evans, unpicking a tune and playing with its components in unpredictable ways – odd directions, digressions, after thoughts, even second thoughts – but so that the tune remains just visible, like a figure in a cubist painting (Bley’s Picasso to Evans’ Matisse). There are times when the music seems tempo free, even at a standstill; on other occasions different tempi are superimposed, something Bley would exploit further in his later music, particularly his solo performances. The trio performs as a unit, alert to every change in light and shade. This kind of playing was to prove influential to pianists like Chick Corea and Keith Jarrrett, whose early work, along with much of Bley’s from this period, is now perhaps unjustly neglected
Paul Bley, Franz Koglmann, Gary Peacock – Annette (hat ART, 1992)
Bley spent much of his musical life in a continuing discourse with the songs of Annette Peacock, whose often elusive tunes, marked by sparse phrasing and acute dissonances, form the basis of all bar one of the pieces on this album (the title work is a collective improvisation). He’s joined by bassist Gary Peacock – a long-standing musical partner with whom he recorded a number of outstanding duo and trio albums – and Franz Koglmann (who suggested the project during the recording session) whose fragile flugelhorn and trumpet are ideally suited to these pensive renditions. As with Free Fall (Columbia, 1963) and Bley’s sessions the previous year, which produced In The Evenings Out There (ECM, 1993), we hear various permutations – solos, duos and trios – as well as alternative readings: ‘Touching’ opens and closes the album, first as a meditative study by Bley alone, at the end by the trio as a brief, ghostly lament. Elsewhere, the cool occasionally icy, detachment sometimes present in Bley’s playing is matched by Koglmann’s austere outlines, as the tunes are reduced to skeletal form, Peacock’s terse bass lines providing only a hint of warmth. Playing of such brevity serves to heighten the emotional content, however – intense feelings expressed with concision, made more powerful by virtue of the restraint.
Paul Bley, Evan Parker, Barre Phillips – Time Will Tell (ECM, 1995)
Another inspired grouping by ECM’s Manfred Eicher – Bley with Evan Parker (tenor and soprano saxophones) and Barre Phillips (double bass) – a trio which might look odd on paper but whose combination of piano, reeds and bass invokes the Jimmy Giuffre 3 with Bley and Steve Swallow of thirty years earlier. At the traditional ECM dinner the night before the session everyone was agreed: they had no idea what they were going to play, and what we hear is more or less in the order it was recorded. The result is a set of mutually sympathetic pieces, Bley and Parker not just finding common ground but exploring aspects of each other’s music, with Phillips, who had played with both, providing additional dialogue. On ‘Sprung’ Parker’s tightly wound soprano line is mirrored in Bley’s glittering run on the piano, and ‘No Questions’ is one of Bley’s free form ballads, accompanied by Phillips’ velvety bowing, in which the piano’s piquant harmonies are set off by Parker’s flinty edgings on tenor. The trio recorded one further album: Sankt Gerold Variations (ECM, 2000) which is also recommended.
- Colin Green
Jimmy Giuffre 3 - 1961 (ECM, 1992)
After the split of his trio with Jim Hall and different bassists, Jimmy Giuffre founded a new drummerless band with Paul Bley on piano and Steve Swallow on bass. 1961 is the 1992 ECM reissue of the trio’s formerly long out-of-print Verve albums Fusion and Thesis including previously unreleased tracks from the same sessions. There are early interpretations of Carla Bley tunes including “Ictus“ to which Bley frequentl;y returned. 1961 is mainly about the creative use of space and silence. Giuffre and his band proved that jazz can retain its swing, power and intensity without loud outbursts. And Paul Bley was an indispensable factor in this music having “the right combination of sensitivity, attitude, taste and facility“ (Giuffre). His plucking of the piano’s interior strings anticipated later developments. Even 54 years later this music sounds utterly modern and fresh.
Jimmy Giuffre Trio - Free Fall (Columbia Records, 1963)
Although very avant-garde, Fusion and Thesis were only a harbinger of what the trio got up to next: Free Fall can be considered a real revolution in the band’s in-depth study in pointillism, reduction, sound coloration, angular rhythms and a free sense of tonality and form. The original album consists of five clarinet solos, two duets for clarinet and bass, and three trio pieces (the CD reissue adds five more solos and another trio) and it’s not just the structure which is full of contrasts. Dissonance and consonance struggle constantly, Giuffre pointed out that there‘s a “curious vacillation between the simple and the complex“. In “The Five Ways“, the central piece of the album, Bley surrounds Giuffre’s and Swallow’s runs with open chords, trills and swing allusions. Free Fall was such radical music, it was beyond the capacity of many and the group disbanded shortly thereafter, on a night when they took money at the door and made only 35 cents apiece.
Open to Love (ECM, 1972)
Invited to make his first solo piano recording at Oslo’s Arne Bendiksen Studio in 1972, Paul Bley played on and in the piano. There are three Carla Bley compositions (the wonderful “Closer“, Seven“ and “Ida Lupino“), two by Annette Peacock, and two of Bley’s own. The result is forty minutes of the most crystalline, fragile, dramatic, tense and spirited music. Shimmering pieces of sound hovering between dissonances and delirious with melodies, this album is the blueprint of Bley’s music – improvised solo piano, distilled to its essence. Open, to Love is a masterpiece.
- Martin Schray
Solo in Mondsee (ECM, 2007)
Thirty-five years would pass between Bley’s solo albums on ECM, but when he finally returned with Solo in Mondsee, it was a revelation. Across ten “Variations” and more than an hour, Bley gives a master lesson in musical mediumship, channeling ghostly wisps from the entire history of jazz and blues. Unyieldingly lyrical and assured, Solo in Mondsee lays bare the essence of Bley’s musicianship, and would serve as a perfect introduction for anyone unfamiliar with his work.
Virtuosi (Improvising Artists, 1976)
Calling an album Virtuosi may seem presumptuous, but there’s little denying how apt the description is, even without the benefit of hindsight. Recorded in 1967, the trio of Bley, Gary Peacock and Barry Altschul tackle two side-long Annette Peacock compositions. What’s virtuosic about the music is not its technical agility, but rather its remarkable restraint, the tunes unspooled in such a loose and spacious manner that they hardly seem composed at all. “Butterflies” floats as airily as its namesake, while Bley and Peacock trade leisurely melodies on “Gary.” Time Will Tell (ECM, 1995) Sankt Gerold (ECM, 2000)
These two albums, released five years apart but both recorded in the mid-90s, are an interesting communion of legendary musicians with very different approaches to free playing. Still, Bley’s unfailingly melodic touch dictates the terms of Time Will Tell: Parker is often miles away from the claustrophobics of his solo saxophone, and Phillips has a lush, deeply romantic bass tone. Sankt Gerold is more adventurous yet. Recorded in a booming monastery, Bley’s notes seem to ring on forever. While Parker and Phillips engage in frenzied chatter, Bley plays not a single unneeded note,and is all the more memorable for it. - Dan Sorrells
Paul Bley Trio – Closer (ESP-Disk, 1965)
On the heels of the masterful freedom of the Barrage quintet comes this collection of concise and intimate meditations on the state of the piano trio.It features the lyrical “Ida Lupino,” one of Bley's best-known pieces, written by his wife at the time, Carla – who also composed the vast majority of the pieces on this record.Closer doesn't ditch freedom at all; but it does serve up the goods in smaller, more easily digestible chunks.“And Now The Queen,” clocking in at a mere 2:17, is transcendent and perfect.Oh – and the trio includes Steve Swallow and, in his recording debut, Barry Altschul.
- Tom Burris Mr. Joy (Limelight, 1968)
Recorded live at the University of Washington in Seattle in 1968, Bley is on piano here, along with bassist Gary Peacock and drummer Billy Elgart. The music is generally upbeat, rather free and very accessible. There is one Ornette Coleman piece, ‘Ramblin'’, one Bley original - ‘Only Lovely’, and the other are penned by Annette Peacock. It’s a great place to get into Bley’s music - if you can get it - unfortunately it seems to be very much out of print.
The Paul Bley Synthesizer Show (Milestone, 1971)
Recorded in 1971, Bley is on the very early ARP synthesizer, electric piano, and piano. He’s is joined at various times by Dick Youngstein, Glen Moore, Frank Tusa, Steve Hass, and Bob Moses. The connection to the earlier album is the song “Mr.Joy”, which ends the album Mr. Joy, begins Synthesizer Show. Expectations need to be tempered a bit though, the sounds are quite primitive to 2016 ears, but its experimental nature was boundary pushing. Tunes like ‘Archangel’ and 'Nothing Ever Was, Anyway' are dark and absorbing, while 'Parks' is a nifty rock number. Also out of print.
Paul Bley & Scorpio (Milestone, 1972)
On this album, Bley is on a pre-Fender Rhodes on most of the album, though there are still occasional blips of synthesizer. With the rhythm section of drummer Barry Altschul and bassist Dave Holland, and a band name like Scorpio, you may expect something more pulsating like the music of Circle or Sam Rivers' work, however aside from an incredible version of 'King Kong' and an effect laden 'Syndrome', most of the album is brooding and spacious. There are also a few other electronic keyboard and synthesizer recordings between these albums - Improvise, Dual Unity and a little later, Jaco. Paul Bley & Scorpio is available digitally.
Fragments (ECM, 1987)
Skipping ahead fifteen years, Bley made this beautiful quartet recording with Paul Motion, Bill Frisell and John Surman. According the liner notes, this was a hand-curated group by Manfred Eicher. Frisell's tune 'Monica Jane' appears along Motion's 'For the Love of Sarah' and Annette Peacock's 'Nothing Ever Was, Anyway'. Just from the opening moments, Surman's rich tone and Bley's considered sprinkling of chords you can tell something magical is afoot. The peak the quartet reached on Surman's 'Line Down' is reason enough!
A highly fruitful intercontinental exchange between Chicago’s Keefe Jackson and Josh Berman and Norway’s Jon Rune Strøm and Tollef Østvang. From the opening notes of “Blues,” the first track of the record, one thinks instantly of Ornette’s fabled quartet work with Don Cherry, Charlie Haden, and Billy Higgins. The spirit of that band, with its emphasis on loosely-structured, highly communicative group improvisation combined with a fervent melodic sensibility is found throughout this fine recording, and it’s an enjoyable and engaging release in every respect.
Jackson (heard here on tenor sax and bass clarinet) and Berman (cornet) have played together a great deal during the past several years, and it shows: both are able to shadow each other’s lines skillfully and sympathetically, making a lot of their improvised passages sound surprisingly pre-planned. The same can be said for Strøm (bass) and Østvang (drums), as they’ve worked together a fair amount as well, most recently in John Dikeman’s Universal Indians with Joe McPhee. The two of them also possess a keen ability to anticipate each other’s moves, essential in this case as the group specializes in giving each member an equal role to play; the “rhythm section” is as crucial as the horn players to the musical dynamics of each track.
The music has its free-sounding moments, although each cut has a strong theme at its core, and the group never ventures out so far that they can’t return to it as a touchstone. There’s a tangible coherence to each track, despite the more adventurous moments on the disc, and the eight pieces are effective and compact, with no wasted space, as each is a relatively succinct 4-7 minutes long. Particular highlights include the title track, built around a unison bass/bass clarinet ostinato, with drums churning underneath, as first Berman, and then Jackson, launch into potent solos and the band elevates the intensity level accordingly; the somber “Melted Snow,” involving some impassioned mournful playing from Berman, Jackson and Strøm; and the impish “What Lies Ahead,” a spunky tune propelled by Strøm and featuring especially close rapport between the bassist and the horn players.
An excellent recording, and a heck of a lot of fun as well: one to be enjoyed and savored on multiple occasions.
Bram De Looze is a young pianist/composer from Belgium who started off in a group called LABtrio in 2007 - at the age of 16, no less! Since that time, he’s been involved in a variety of projects: some albums with Slovenian drummer Dre Hocevar (including Coding of Evidentiality on Clean Feed), and an album with Greek drummer Stephanos Chytiris (Flux Project PYR|N, self-released). This newest project is a collection of original compositions recorded by a septet (hence the title Septych), and it proves De Looze to be a formidable new voice in contemporary jazz. The compositions here are at times meditative and brooding, at times fierce and chaotic, but they are always held together by the sympathetic interplay of the musicians.
The album opens with two lone reeds. It’s a desolate cry that eventually yields to some spindly, foreboding figures from the piano and then, almost unexpectedly, a thunderous crash of percussion. This first composition, called “Thorium,” is an exercise in addition and subtraction - cellos appear for brief measures before receding, saxophones join together in cacophonic wails before dropping out entirely to be replaced by some other instrumental combination, and De Looze’s playing becomes steadily more unhinged and frenetic. The musical motif here, a dramatic ascent up the scales, pushes the piece further and further and, just when the pressure seems unsustainable, the composition collapses upon itself, and we’re left with just two cellos and skittering drums. After a bit of research, I found that the chemical element thorium, “when heated in air...ignites and burns brilliantly with a white light.” Likewise, this first piece is fiery, but it ultimately decays into an inert silence.
“Xenolith” is driven by the cellos - one of them strumming furiously, the other adding unsettling textures. After a couple of minutes, the piece becomes something of a musical haunted house, occupied by odd scrapes and scratches, pops and hisses, the sound of doors being knocked upon (or are those footsteps?). De Looze occasionally appears as if arising out of a fog, only to disappear again beneath the mournful moan of the strings.
Acting as a moment of respite after the relative intensity of the previous tracks, “Interlink” finds Gebhard Ullmann establishing a somber mood with his bass clarinet. “As Above, As Below” recalls the Cecil Taylor Unit with its off-kilter piano, frenzied strings, and general atmosphere of pandemonium. The next track, “L’Esprit d’Escalier” is a feature for De Looze and drummer Flin van Hemmen, and it too offers something of a breather after the wild kineticism of the previous composition.
“Repulse” opens with ominous note clusters from de Looze and the malevolent groan of the saxes. As the title suggests, this piece is largely about building a mood of oppressive unease. Van Hemmen restrains himself to brushing lightly in the background, and De Looze provides a steady pulse in the lower registers of the piano.
The following piece, “Land of Morning Calm,” is calm, but only in the way that a small seaside town is calm after a local resident has been found dead on the shore. Ullmann’s bass flute lends an exoticism to the composition that helps varies things a bit, and that same instrument helps segue the piece into the next, “Seven Trees out East.” This one carries hints of Steve Reich with its looping reeds, but eventually gives way to something more resembling Anthony Braxton - angular instrumentation that seems at odds with itself, snatches of melody that are both teasingly familiar and impossibly obtuse.
In “Th 90 Disrupted,” the terrifying/triumphant melody from the first composition is reprised, but it sits atop an even more chaotic foundation. It’s an effective moment that leads perfectly into the final composition, “Ambiguous,” which brings all the players in for a final moment of disjointed beauty.
I wasn’t sure what to make of Septych at first, but I found myself returning to it again and again. Each piece here is a world unto itself, with its own energy, mood, and sense of structure, and there’s enough variety (both textural and compositional) to keep things fresh and surprising. All in all, I found this album a wonderful listen, and I highly recommend it to fans of the Cecil Taylor Unit or the late-period work of Anthony Braxton (particularly his Ghost Trance Music). I’m very happy to have found out about De Looze, and I’m now eagerly awaiting his next project!
The band : Bram De Looze piano Lester St-Louis cello Daniel Levin cello Flin Van Hemmen drums Bo Van Der Werf baritone saxophone Robin Verheyen tenor and soprano saxophone Gebhard Ullmann tenor saxophone, bass clarinet & bass flute
Sometimes, one has to be reminded that traditional forms of jazz can still be as powerful as experimental and free improv. William Parker's Corn Meal Dance is one of those, a powerful bop album with vocals. Eight years later, AUM Fidelity has released music from those same sessions, Great Spirit.
The album is comprised of five completed tracks, one improvised track, and a throwaway final track that is more of a sketch than anything substantial. What is substantial are the wonderful four tracks at the beginning of the album; rich spiritual bop jazz similar to Doug and Jean Carn or Henry Franklin albums on Black Jazz from the 70's. Leena Conquest's voice fits within this aesthetic perfectly, having a gorgeous tone and flavor without being overly dramatic. William Parker's bass playing is subtly funky, something that he doesn't get enough credit for, because it is this funkiness that establishes a rhythm that guides and moves the other musicians throughout the compositions. Rob Brown (alto sax) and Lewis Barnes (trumpet) form the front line of horns, in the manner of the horn section from an Art Blakey Blue Note album, with Eri Yamamoto (piano) and Hamid Drake (drums) subverting the traditional roles of a supportive rhythm section with slight atonal notes and accents and changes in pace.
Standout tracks are the opener "Bowl of Stone Around the Sun," and "Great Spirit," both having positive energy and engaging toe tapping tracks. "Prayer - Improv" is the only track that, like the title says, is a true improvisation, with Leena soothing vocals resting on top of an aggressive but not piercing music by the band. It swirls around itself like a gathering storm, but does not threaten to explode, just maintains an even tempered mode. "Song for Whitney" is not from the same sessions, but from a 2012 concert in Montreal, featuring just voice and piano; a straight forward ballad. "Potpourri" is just that, the musicians all playing different things, with Barnes quoting Lee Morgan from an early 60's album, but it has no structure. Not sure why it is on the album at all unless to fill out the space. Nevertheless, "Great Spirit" is worth listening to for the first four tracks alone, containing some substantial music, with soul and funk that prove that established forms of jazz music can still kick butt. Recommended.
This album missed my top-10-of-the-year list for the simple reason that choices should be made, but it was a close call. Pedro Sousa on saxophone, Johan Bertling on bass, and Gabriel Ferrandini bring us three long improvised pieces, and even if it was the first time they played as a trio, the result is absolutely stunning. The music has a slow, but determined intensity, no, a burning intensity, a heat of passion for sound and deep resonance, performed collectively, without leads or themes or melodies, just slow, penetrating sounds of sax bass drums that will keep you glued to your speakers for the entire length of the three long tracks, that despite the openness stays focused, and despite the inherent slowness, never slackens.
On the second and longest track, the volume increases, as Sousa makes his tenor scream and howl in the most heart-rending way, full of agony and despair, and without losing any of the intensity, the sax takes a step back to leave front stage to the arco bass for short bursts of sound, supported by half-muted blasts from the sax, and screeching cymbals, and when the volume gets reduced almost completely, embracing silence, not one bit of the intensity has disappeared, quite to the contrary, it is even more explicit, more powerful, with the bass moving to quiet repetitive plucking, inviting the sax for a wonderful display of multiphonics, offering shades of human voice inflections and more power, and then strangely the piece completely crumbles in little notes. Beautiful!
The last track, amazingly, keeps the intensity alive like the flame in a furnace, slowly at first, with arco bass and monotonous sounds from the sax, with occasional outbursts of volume, alternated by deep rumbling sounds, percussive clutters and accents but then the fire picks up, and how! without changing the speed, the attack becomes stronger, the ferocity too, moving from intimacy to more expansive playing, ending in energetic interplay.
In my review about The Thing’s last album Live, a collaboration with Thurston Moore, I said that they were my favorite band. So I was excited as usual when I picked up their new album and put it in my CD player … and it was not what I expected. To be honest, I was puzzled. Shake didn’t get me as promptly as Garage, Bag it, Mono or Boot, for example. But why was that so? Did that mean that their music was not as fascinating as before?
Mats Gustafsson (saxes), Ingebrigt Håker Flaten (b) and Paal Nilssen-Love (dr) have followed an interesting concept with The Thing. They take the power of blues and heavy rock and mix it with the freedom of improvised music using the riff as the foundation of their pieces. They do this on Shake as well but it wouldn’t make sense if they had just repeated this idea over and over again, without trying out something different. What is new on this album are the three tracks with Scandinavian titles: Håker Flaten’s composition “Til Jord Skal Du Bli“ (Norwegian for “To Dust You Will Return“), Nilssen-Love’s “Fra Jord Er Du Kommet“ (meaning “From Earth You Have Come“) and Colin Bergh’s “Sigill“ (Swedish for "Sign" or "Emblem"). All three compositions are unusually reflective for The Thing. In “Sigill“ Gustafsson meditates gloomily over gongs and a hypnotic bass-line, the music sounds like one of Nick Cave’s murder ballads (just without lyrics). Nilssen-Love’s “Fra Jord Er Du Kommet“ quotes his solo album “Cut and Bleed“ using reverberant metal material. Gustafsson and Håker Flaten only add sparse notes here and there before a melodic waltz emerges almost out of nowhere. Together with “Til Jord Skal Du Bli“ the piece makes a spiritual pair, in which The Thing integrate music of their other, more traditional free jazz projects.
However, there is still a great deal of the music which has made this band so successful. There are are cover versions of jazz classics like Ornette Coleman’s “Perfection“ (in a medley with “Viking Disco“) which they turn into a Blue Cheer track (something they did quite effectively with John Coltrane’s “India“ on Boot as well), and they also cover a rock song: their version of Loop’s “The Nail Will Burn“ rides on a five-note-riff, turning it upside down, wringing it out and using what’s left of it for a short and precise collective improvisation.
Finally, like on many albums before they have been augmented by guest musicians which add new sound colors to their music. Here they are joined by Anna Hogberg on alto sax and Goran Kajfes on cornet for “Aim“, the longest piece on the album, which starts with a reflective Gustafsson solo before the band displays another one of their rock riffs. Hogberg and Kajfes drop in after around five minutes and the piece literally blossoms out so that one might wish that they invite more than one musician for a cooperation on their next album (like Brötzmann’s Full Blast did with Keiji Haino, Mars Williams and Peter Evans on Crumbling Brain). Shake is more varied than other The Thing albums, it needs more time and attentiveness but it is as fascinating and grows with every listening.
