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Monday, August 9, 2021

Wadada Leo Smith 80

(Photo: Maurice Robertson)

By Stef Gijssels

I do not think that any musician has received more 5-star ratings on our blog than Wadada Leo Smith. The trumpeter, born in 1941 in Leland, Mississippi, turns 80 by December of this year. For this occasion, several new albums will be released this year, and they will be reviewed in the coming days. 

From the very start of his career, Smith has worked on his very personal journey into creativity, into the act of musical creation, not only as a composer, but also conceptually. His very first album is even called "Creative Music". In various interviews he has rejected musical styles and categories such as 'improvised' music, or 'free jazz'. In his opinion, there is just music. He even wrote his view on music several years ago. 

I quote a short passage from it: 

"The creative artists have always strived to make the world a better place through their ideas and music performances, serving all people. Creative music and the arts are for everyone and most specifically those who can and will make the effort to confront themselves in a direct search for truth. And because of their efforts, those people live adventurously in their discoveries of themselves and the secrets of life.

What we discover is right in front of us, and also enclosed inside of our hearts, just waiting for us to realize and accept our presence on this planet.

What defines all of us as human beings is the inspiration and knowledge to make coherent choices, informed through science, art, and authentic spiritual practice to develop a genuine care for others and the world we live in.

What we discover is right in front of us, and also enclosed inside of our hearts, just waiting for us to realize and accept our presence on this planet.

What defines all of us as human beings is the inspiration and knowledge to make coherent choices, informed through science, art, and authentic spiritual practice to develop a genuine care for others and the world we live in."

Interested readers can be referred to the review that David Menestres wrote about Smith's own publication. 

This humanistic and spiritual aspect of Smith's creative work has been present in all the diverse musical performances he made: whether the very spiritual solo performances, the energetic Miles Davis tributes, the complex compositions with his Golden Quartet, the duets with other stellar artists, or his ensemble pieces on which modern classical music, jazz and chamber music all merge into something new, the artist remains true to himself, authentic in his voice, intent and emotional power. He is a searcher for truth, and that should be taken almost literally: how to make music that is true in its essence, devoid of anything that can be considered as fake or false (pretense, arrogance, showmanship, commercial interests, shallowness, superficiality, music as a commodity, ...). It also means in the best buddhist sense to lose all expectations of the ego, letting go of the actual self, in the hope that the relationship between sound and universe is immediate and direct. 

Interested readers can find a long biography of Smith on the TUM website

Here is an overview of all the reviews we wrote about Wadada Leo Smith's music, mostly as a leader, and a few as a guest musician, listed from the most recent to the beginning of our blog in 2007. For no less than 15 albums he received a 5-star rating (and not only by me!), which is exceptional by any standard. 


Sunday, August 8, 2021

Matt Mitchell & Kate Gentile - Snark Horse (Pi Recordings, 2021) ****½

By Lee Rice Epstein

A book of one-bar compositions, a rotating lineup of multi-instrumentalists, an image that sticks in the craw of your mind. Answer: What is Snark Horse? In the expansive nether-verse that contains Sun Ra, Georges Perec, and Leonard Cohen, Alex Trebek asks this very question as Jeopardy’s Daily Double. 

The music is performed by the Snark Horsekestra, co-led by Kate Gentile and Matt Mitchell, who each contribute compositions and play drums and percussion (Gentile) and piano, modular synth, Prophet-6, MicroFreak, and electronics (Mitchell). The group is rounded out by Kim Cass on acoustic and electroacoustic bass; Ben Gerstein on trombone; Jon Irabagon on tenor, mezzo-soprano, sopranino, and soprillo saxophones and alto clarinet; Davy Lazar on trumpet, piccolo trumpet, and cornet; Mat Maneri on viola; Ava Mendoza on guitar; Matt Nelson on tenor and alto saxophones; and Brandon Seabrook on guitar and tenor banjo. Song by song, the formatting and reformatting of the lineup delivers solo, duo, trio, quartet, quintet, sextet, septet, octet, and the full tentet Snark Horsekestra. There’s an aleatoric aspect of the instrumentation and changing roles that invites the listener to take part.

There is a sentence of Gertrude Stein’s that could be something of a roadmap for Snark Horse: 

“I mean, I mean and that is not what I mean, I mean that not any one is saying what they are meaning, I mean that I am feeling something, I mean that I mean something and I mean that not any one is thinking, is feeling, is saying, is certain of that thing, I mean that not any one can be saying, thinking, feeling, not any one can be certain of that thing, I mean I am not certain of that thing, I am not ever saying, thinking, feeling, being certain of this thing, I mean, I mean, I know what I mean.” 

As mentioned above, every Snark Horse composition is one bar long, but a bar is—like one of Stein’s sentences—as long as it needs to be to meet the composition’s needs. Most are about as long as one would expect, while some, like “strikes me as wanting to make me barf,” push the limit of a listener’s expectation of what a single bar looks like, as the rhythms and melody flux and flex. Over the course of 60+ compositions (composed roughly equally by Gentile and Mitchell) and 15+ solo variations by Mitchell, the Oulipian-like rules do lead to a freer, more experimental music. Like the literature written by Perec and co., the Snark Horse book is delightfully surprising, a riotous tangle of invention and creativity. The song titles themselves give a linguistic partner to the music inside, running the gamut from the punny “key tettle” to the obscure “’s partial.” Throughout, the music is similarly expansive, a puckish mix of blues, electro-acoustic, free, funk, punk, snarl, and—yes, jazzbros—swing.  

At this size, the book. of songs is divided into six volumes: Echo Emporium, Fraughtleau, Minute Egress, Semi-Simulacral, Subfusc Quiddities, and Panoply. Each set is just under an hour, the ebb and flow distributed pretty evenly across each volume: no matter which one you’re listening to, you get a mix of groupings and sizings. So on Semi-Simulacral, the back-to-back quartet performances “regular falutin’” and “supple bicepsual/is jingles/utter balbis” sound radically different, as the lineup changes from Gentile, Mitchell, Maneri, and Seabrook to Gentile, Mitchell, Mendoza, and Nelson. Aside from the difference in voicing, the mutability of the players supports Gentile and Mitchell’s shared vision, even as they retain their unique compositional signatures. As mundane as it seems to say (especially in the context of all this playful language), it’s true: for those who loved Mannequins, Phalanx Ambassadors, A Pouting Grimace, and Vista Accumulation, you’re going to love Snark Horse.

Saturday, August 7, 2021

Anna Webber - Idiom (PI Recordings, 2021) ****½



I still rather vividly recall first hearing woodwind's Anna Webber's compositions sometime ago and looking back at a review of the Simple Trio from 2014, I realized that all I wrote then still applied. All of the notes on her music's concentrated intricate interconnecting pieces and edgy improvisation still apply, and if anything, her powers have only grown stronger.

On Idiom, Webber's compositional, and of course instrumental skills, are on full display. The double CD consists of a disc of the long standing Simple Trio, which is Webber on tenor saxophone and flute, Matt Mitchell on piano, and John Hollenbeck on drums, while disc two is a 12-piece ensemble plus conductor (see all names below). The title 'Idiom' refers to a book of Webber's compositions that stem from extended woodwind techniques. Of course, the term 'extended techniques' is a bit fuzzy, and my own definition is even fuzzier -- I hear it as meaning approaching any given instrument a bit outside of the 'normal' range of playing, but defining 'normal' range becomes harder and harder for me the more I hear! The actual techniques that Webber uses are given some explanation here, however, what I can say is that they are so integral to the music's creation that it all feels quite natural, and both groups offer their own enjoyable interpretations of this complex, yet accessible, music.

The Simple Trio disc

'Idiom I' begins with what could a bit of a nerve-frying circular phrase, however the pitch change after some number of repetitions, along with Mitchell's precise counter point, it instead becomes a gripping introduction to a tune that itself is a fascinating set of interlocking phrases. As the tune progresses and Hollenbeck's drumming, every bit as exact as the piano, provides a eddies of rhythm for Webber to unspool farther and farther from the original concept. Even when the others drop out and Mitchell along carries the tune, the concentric momentum remains fully intact.

'Idiom IV' is next an is introduced by the piano alone. The music is spacious, a series of quiet events rather than a flowing piece, but when Webber joins in on tenor sax, it is somewhat jarring. They soon move into a rhythmically-jerky section with highly syncopated, moving parts. Sometimes Webber is overblowing the sax, just a bit, adding some fuzziness to the edges of the tone. 'Forgotten Best,' likely not a part of the Idiom series, unless you take the name literally, is also different than the other two pieces described so far. Mitchell's part is more flowing, with lush chords and romantic sweeps of sound, while Hollenbeck's expressive use of the cymbals cradles Webber's arcing melody. The intensity that the group builds to, coupled with a certain sentimentality, is invigorating.

The other tracks are solidly in the Idiom book, numbers V and III respectively. They are thematically similar to the first two tracks in their angularity and compositional techniques. The closer, 'Idiom III,' is a powerful one, all three instruments intensely interlocked on Webber's compositional ideas. In the end, the album is a little bit nerve frying, but in an utterly animating way.


The Large Ensemble disc

I recently read in an piece in which Webber discussed the recording process and how the large ensemble recorded the complex charts sometimes only several bars at a time, much like modern classical music. Listening to the the opening of moments of 'Idiom VI''s 'Movement I', where the 12-piece group performs a series exacting musical acrobatics, this makes good practical sense. However, around two-thirds through the track the group loosens up into some arresting improvisations. The first is a long-building, expressive saxophone line that leads to a tough free-blowing session, followed by a hair-raising synthesizer passage from Liz Kosack, which adds an eclectic and electric shimmer to the piece. It closes with a another series of composed and many faceted passages.

This track is followed by 'Interlude,' which is as named, a short piece built on seemingly incidental sounds, however what it leads to, 'Movement II,' is quite a masterstroke. Starting with a slightly arrhythmic beat and a lively melody from the flute that travels up an down the octaves, it is interspersed with film-noir like comps and fills from the orchestra. Next, a colorful expansion of the various tonal pallets starts stacking up, their shapes not exactly matching, becoming less and less stable until collapsing dramatically. And it is not done yet! 'Interlude II and Movement III' follow, setting up a bit of a pattern. The interlude, quiet and impressionistic, relies on the strings to carry it, along with being accompanied by gentle lines from the trumpet. The piece's movement evolves from the interplay of several of the horns, at first seeming random, until brought together by a series of unison lines and a very distinctive contra-alto clarinet solo from Yuma Uesaka.

Of course the music continues, surprising listeners in all of the best ways: unusual tonal colors, slowly mounting musical apexes, unscripted pleasures, and dazzling compositional structures. These other movements offer moments of challenging tonality and chilling dissonances, all leading to an impressive conclusion. There is enough for the listener to hold onto without feeling ejected into the complete unknown, and more than enough sonic twists to bring the listener back again and again.

Idiom is pretty monumental and highly recommended album that covers a lot of musical ground, and though built around certain (and somewhat mysterious) extended techniques, is a genuinely enjoyable listen that offers the deep listener a treasure trove.

---

The Large Ensemble is:

Anna Webber - tenor saxophone, flute, bass flute
Nathaniel Morgan - alto saxophone
Yuma Uesaka - tenor saxophone, clarinet, contra-alto clarinet
Adam O’Farrill - trumpet
David Byrd-Marrow - horn
Jacob Garchik - trombone
Erica Dicker - violin
Joanna Mattrey - viola
Mariel Roberts - cello
Liz Kosack - synthesizer
Nick Dunston - bass
Satoshi Takeishi - drums
Eric Wubbels - conductor


Friday, August 6, 2021

Recent Albums of Pianist-Composer Reinhold Friedl

By Eyal Hareuveni

Viennese pianist-composer Reinhold Friedl is known as the artistic director of the Berlin-based avant-garde ensemble zeitkratzer, famous for his radical interpretations of works by Arnold Schönberg, John Cage, Karlheinz Stockhausen and Alvin Lucier as well as for its adaptations of Kraftwerk music and its collaborations with Lou Reed (adaption of Reed’s Metal Music Machine, Karlrecords, 2014), Keiji Haino, Merzbow and Mariam Wallentin. Friedl studied mathematics and piano with Alexander von Schlippenbach. He is known as an expert for the music of Iannis Xenakis, and he is a persistent explorer of the piano and is an expert of the instrument's extended, inside-the-piano techniques.

Reinhold Friedl - KRAFTT (zeitkratzer productions, 2020) ****

KRAFFT was commissioned by the French State and premiered in Paris and Marseille. It documented the first meeting of zeitkratzer (with clarinet player Frank Gratkowski, trombonist Hilary Jeffery and cellist Elisabeth Coudoux, among others) and the French Ensemble 2e2m (its initials stand for “études et expressions des modes musicaux”, studies and expressions of musical modes), a chamber group from Paris known for their fantastic sound and its pioneering recordings of Giacinto Scelsi’s music. Reinhold, who does not play on this composition, composed KRAFTT (its wrong spelling hints to the ironic-onomatopoetic rendition of the German term “Kraft”, meaning “power” or “force”) with the help of the computer program TTM (Textural Transformation Machine), developed by himself to sculpt multiple random processes.

This composition was conducted by Pierre Roullier and recorded at Eglise Saint-Merry in Paris during Festival Extension. KRAFFT is a 32-minute minimalist-maximal composition: all instruments play in rhythmic unison and demands a kind of textual listening. Only the sounds and their combinations change relentlessly throughout the piece. This composition evokes brilliantly the notion of a huge power about to burst, but its elusive yet dramatic progression and its unsettling tension leave the listener with no clue exactly when or how its tension is going to be released, if at all.


Reinhold Friedl & Eryck Abecassis - animal électrique (Editions Mego, 2020) ****


It took ten years for French analog synth player Eryck Abecassis and Friedl to realize this recording. Only after François Bonnet (Director of GRM, Groupe de Recherches Musicales of the National Audiovisual Institute, aka Kassel Jaeger) invited the two composer-performers to the Akousma Festival 2019 at Radio France in Paris, Abecassis and Friedl rehearsed together and defined the melting pot of their distinct sonic aesthetics, captured best in the title of the album animal électrique. Friedl’s piano becomes an abstract sound and noise machine, with electronic overtones while Abecassis’ analog synth sings brutal and raw voices. The album was recorded at Studio Luc Ferrari, La Muse en Circuit, CNCM, in Paris in June 2019.

Friedl and Abecassis focused on precise and nuanced transitions between accurately defined musical states. The album begins with an elusive and poetic dream-state of “animal électrique 2”, where the delicate but noisy synth overlaps the sonorities of the prepared piano and often sounds as extending the quiet, resonating sounds of the piano strings; it visits intense and brutal storms of “animal électrique 1” and “animal électrique 5”; shifts gears into the hypnotic texture “animal électrique 3” and the mysterious and often silent texture of “animal électrique 6”; and ends with the introspective and simply beautiful “animal électrique 4”, described by Friedl and Abecassis as “detuned operatic aria.”


Reinhold Friedl - Old Neo (Superpang, 2020) ***½

The label Superpang is notoriously known for the minimalist details it provides on its releases and Old Neo is no exception. All that the bandcamp page of the label says is that Friedl composed this 34-minute piece in 2020 and all sounds were made with the historic electronic piano Neo-Bechstein.

This electric grand piano was built by Walther Nernst in the 1930s and is considered to be one of the first amplified instruments. It features 18 humbucker pickups, each covering 5 strings. As the piano did not need a soundboard anymore, the traditional hammer mechanics had to be made differently and much lighter, and stress its sustaining sounds. The Neo-Bechstein was restored by David Balzer, who introduced it to the Berlin music scene in 2002. About a year later Friedl got interested in the instrument and suggested a polyphonic modification. Blazer modified the original mono-wiring to an 18-channel setup, so each pickup could be amplified and processed separately. This modification allowed a dynamic spatialization system with an array of loudspeakers that emphasized the transparency gained from the re-wiring.

Friedl already composed for this unique instrument, Neo-Bechstein Golden Quinces Earthed, 2011 (2003) (Bocian, 2015). Old Neo is an enigmatic drone that fully employs the sustaining and reverberant power of the rare Neo-Bechstein. This instrument allows Friedl to further develop his inside-the-piano techniques and to ornament this dark drone with subtle and ethereal, electric noises and dissonant overtones.


Reinhold Friedl & Elliott Sharp - Anostalgia (zOaR, 2020) ***½


This duo grew out of American polymath Elliott Sharp collaboration with zeitkratzer that began in the late nineties when Sharp composed “Coriolis Effect” for the ensemble and culminated in the recording of zeitkratzer and Sharp, Oneirika (Live At Berghain Berlin) (Karlrecords, 2017). Friedl and Sharp recorded Anostalgia at the Elektroakustisches Studio der Akademie der Künste Berlin in 1999 (originally released by Church Grob, 2014, now re-released by Sharp’s label zOaR), and two years later in New York the follow-up album Feuchtify (Emanem, 2006).

Sharp, like Friedl, is a master of eclecticism, a multi-instrumentalist (who plays here guitar, bass clarinet, soprano saxophone and electronics), who has played and wrote music for blues, art rock, drums n’ bass, film soundtrack and contemporary music. In Anostalgia, Friedl concentrated on preparations and playing inside the piano, and his defamiliarized, layered sounds acted as a catalyst upon the somber playing of Sharp.

The cover art (designed by Sharp’s partner Janene Higgins) may suggest a distant, foggy atmosphere. But the ten short pieces offer different modes of mostly fiery yet intriguing sonic collisions, always focused on exploring unorthodox and thorny uncharted territories, and still sound fresh and urgent. Sharp is the dominant figure in this duo and often his electric guitar or bass are echoed through the piano strings as both instruments blend into dense electric storms (“A Chance Moment”, “Inkognito” and the centerpiece “Nostalgia”). On other pieces, the prepared piano of Friedl is transformed into an alien and noisy percussive machine (“Sand”, “Afterlight”, “Dust Age” and “Lipstuck”). “Ostesh” is the exception here, a playful, cinematic piece with strong lyrical veins.


Thursday, August 5, 2021

The Emma Goldman Bust-Out Brigade – s/t (Nomad Eel, 2021) ***½

By Nick Ostrum

It seems many of my punk rock idols have taken the plunge into fusion-based improvisational music. There are the obvious shifts of members of the Ex and Penny Rimbaud from Crass, who have shown longstanding interest in clangorous improvised music. More recently and more sonically in line with The Emma Goldman Bust-Out Brigade, Brendan Canty and Joe Lally (Fugazi, et al.) joined guitarist Anthony Pirog in the Messthetics, a group that almost perfectly marries my continued affection for the Dischord of my youth with my later turn to free jazz. The Rollins Band, moreover, sported Melvin Gibbs on bass for a couple of albums (Weight, Come in and Burn), including the jam sessions with Charles Gayle and Rashied Ali that would only be released in 2003 as Weighting. OK, so maybe I should not be surprised that Mike Watt, celebrated bassist of the Minutemen, fIREHOSE, and the recent A Love Supreme Electric project, has been dipping his toes in these waters, as well.

Watt was my entry point. On The Emma Goldman Bust-Out Brigade, he joins bassist Devin Hoff and drummer Joe Berardi. That is right. The Brigade consists of two electric bassist and a drummer. Berardi, it seems, has roots in folk and country, and Hoff has played everything from jazz to free jazz to indie to folk and country. I am sure some form of punk and its descendants should be thrown in there, too.

The result is a post-punk infused journey into a slowly churning jam-based avant-rock. I love the duo lead and rhythm bass, the lack of a six-string, the bare-bones nature of the project. Despite that DIY, play-with-what-you-got-and-make-it-weird aesthetic, the music has some steady progressive elements. The songs develop in a clear direction and frequently involve some staggered, heavy funk bass dancing atop active but spare drumming. When it works, as it does in 'No Dream No Life', the dual basses engage in a slithering and entrancing dialog. 'Healed Up' is another strong number, a straightforward heavy funk, wherein Watt, Hoff and Berardi not only click in fits and spurts, but follow the improvisation through a satisfying run. 'Inspired Minorities Chant for Maria Nikiforova' is likewise a standout and balances drive, earwig melodic repetition, meandering but compelling development, mantric chanting, and a convincing end. Frequently, however, the pieces rely on catchy hooks that do not quite come to fruition and an entanglement of basses that never fully detangle, merge, or combust. In other words, much of the pieces fell like interesting interludes or promising outtakes that stop short of their destinations. Then again, at its best, The Emma Goldman Bust-Out Brigade vines its way into the listeners ears and just refuses to let go. For that, and maybe even for 'Inspired Minorities', alone, this album is worth a few spins.

Wednesday, August 4, 2021

Yan Jun and Zhu Wenbo - twice (Erstwhile Records, 2021) ***½

By Ron Coulter

“twice” is a June 2021 release on Erstwhile Records by Beijing, China based musicians, Yan Jun and Zhu Wenbo.

The album consists of a single one-hour long track made from recordings created independently (time and location) by Jun and Wenbo. The audio material includes: field recordings, human voice (a few spoken words, breathing, mouth sounds, swallowing, and a recurring low humming), electro-mechanical devices (printer, cassette duplicator, scanner, etc.) and some traditional musical instruments (snare drum, digital piano, upright piano, clarinet, and mandolin). The traditional musical instruments are used sparsely and abstractly, most often they seem to emerge as part of the concurrent field recording or electro-mechanical humming.

This recording is definitely not jazz or free jazz related, nor is it improvised (although some of the material used in it’s creation likely was); this is electro-acoustic composition best described as musical surrealism, i.e. the intentional juxtaposition of disparate audio materials. It is a highly unpredictable listening experience and one best enjoyed with headphones, as the use of the left/right stereo field is integral, as is the use of depth, i.e. some things sounding far distant and others right in your face. This depth, created with differences in volume, separates the various audio elements into layers that approximate the traditional musical elements of melody (here, the thing that is loudest), counter melody (here, that which is of medium volume, or actively changing volumes), and accompaniment/background (that which is lowest volume).

On the surface, this recording presents itself as a random sound collage, however on multiple listenings and bits of information available at https://erstwhilerecords.bandcamp.com/album/twice it is evident that there is a compositional process at work managing the making and combination of audio elements. For instance, “Yan Jun: time assignment for layer B” and “Zhu Wenbo:
time assignment for layer A” indicate that there were some durational controls at work in the independent recording of each composer’s material. However, these durational parameters, or any kind of patterning, are not immediately apparent in the listening experience; this would require a much deeper analysis of the work.

This is patient, challenging music. It is a slower paced, maybe even minimalist reminder of John Cage’s series of “Variations” compositions (I-VIII, 1958-1967) or some kind of Fluxus-inspired audio work. The duration of the work, the slow development, and the total abstraction of sounds has an affect of suspended time and reality for the listener, kind of like wandering through a Dalí landscape. If you are looking for a highly idiosyncratic and unpredictable listening experience “twice” is that album.

Tuesday, August 3, 2021

Gonçalo Almeida & Pierre Bastien - Room Sessions (Cylinder, 2020) ****

By Stef Gijssels

We're on principle open to listen to anything. This helps us to broaden our minds and to open our ears even more. Today, we have a wonderful duo with bassist Gonçalo Almeida, the Netherlands-based Portuguese musician with whom we're familiar through his solo work and his work with musically uncompromising bands such as Albatre, Spinifex, Bulliphant, The Selva, The Attic, Lama and many more. Despite this prolific activity, his collaboration with French musician and instrument builder Pierre Bastien, brings us into even more uncharted territory. 

Apart from being a trained trumpet player, Bastien is fascinated by musical mechanics, or automatons. He has created hundreds of machines that produce music, using anything that can be attached to something else for repetitive sound production: metronomes, cymbals, pulleys, kitchen utensils ... you name it. He even developed his own "Mecanium Orchestra", an ensemble of musical automatons constructed from meccano parts and activated by electro-motors, that are playing on acoustic instruments from all over the world. which includes the complete mechanical performance of Chinese Lute, Moroccon bendir, Javanese saron, koto and violin. I add a video below with some of his contraptions to explain all this a little clearer. 

Needless to say, the machines cannot but produce rhythmic sounds, but then very unusual and bizarre ones, as the result of the engines driving the different tools forward. At the same time Bastien also intervenes like a god in his creation, adding pipes, removing tools, switching on new levers ...

For Almeida, this rhythmic environment gives him the possibility to go beyond rhythm and to accentuate, colour and add his bass sounds, obviously without the possibility to influence the core set-up of the machine (I assume), but luckily Bastien picks up his trumpet once in a while which makes the music even richer. On the last three tracks of the album, the real instruments take over the dominance of the machines, and the sound becomes more open-ended. 

The result is absolutely unique and mesmerising. The seven improvised pieces offer completely alien beats and sounds, a weird and fascinating sonic environment that defies categorisation. Since you cannot see Bastien's machines, you wonder how the music is produced (and that thought process risks to detract from the music itself), but I can only recommend the interested reader to listen to the album many times, until the sound becomes familiar and 'natural' if that word can be used. 

It's a little bit of a gimmick, but the production is solid enough to stand on its own. 

Listen and download from Bandcamp.

The video below gives a good picture of Pierre Bastien's mechanical instruments and music. It is not related to this album directly. 

Monday, August 2, 2021

Jazz em Agosto 2021 - Day 3



Today, I took a walk to one of Lisbon's botanical gardens -- there are actually a number of places that could serve as such, but this one is the Jardim Botânico de Lisboa, a part of the University of Lisbon -- perched on the hillside near the old, winding streets of Bario Alto. The entrance was unexpectedly free, and as I began descending into the gardens, I was immediately struck with the desperate feeling of wanting to go three places at once: the bridge over a small fern festooned ravine, the winding path up to a small sitting area, and barrel on straight ahead to see what was next. What a delightful problem to hang onto for a moment while letting all the others go for a moment.

Winding through the paths, communing with heavy fronds, climbing up stairs past palms, oogling old trees with multihued bark, and passing an early 20th century observatory, I finally ended up at the entrance to the University's National Museum of History. The museum is a whimsical mix of 21st century immersive pedagogically-arranged multimedia exhibits and classical 19th-century display cases with a human and an ape skeleton, and colorful long ago embalmed birds. There is also a pristinely preserved set of rooms from the 19th century, including a gorgeous lecture hall and lab classroom, complete with casts of medical oddities and all sorts of curious and somewhat concerning medical instruments. I don't have a tie in here to the music, this was just a very pleasant, unplanned discovery. If you're in town, take time to visit.

 

João Pedro Brandão

João Pedro Brandão's Trama no Navio. Photo by Vera Marmelo – Gulbenkian Música.

Porto, Portugal's João Pedro Brandão's Trama no Navio is the woodwindist joined by Ricardo Moreira on Piano and synthesizer, Hugo Carvalhais on bass, and Marcos Cavaleiro on drums. For this piece, motion video, projected behind the band as they played, was provided by Alexandra Corte-Real. The combination made for a sublime 45 minute multi-channel experience.

The impetus for this project came from a soundtrack commission that Brandão contributed to for a screening of the 1925 film Battleship Potemkin by Sergei Eisenstein, more specifically the second part of the film, Drama on the Deck. Taking the emotion and poetic imagery from the film, Brandão refitted the music to this quartet of musicians, along with Corte-Real's evocative imagery. 

Leaving the auditorium, I was struck by the depth of the piece. While frantically taking notes in the dark during the concert, I had been searching for adjectives and mnemonics to remember the moments of the music by, and one that I jotted the most seemed to be the word emotional. However, it was now not entirely clear to me whose, or what, emotions I was thinking about. It was a cheap short cut trying to capture the mix of gentle, but insistent, melodies, the rich counterpoint between the four musicians, and the abstract, yet grounded, images in motion behind them. It also had something to do with Carvalhais' riveting bass solo about half-way though the piece that elicited audience applause (that's a no-no during a serious piece, right?). But I could not get away from the word, emotional. It was even in the opening two bar figure that jumped from the sax to the bass and then to the piano. The sensitivity of the players was an important aspect of the piece, felt in the changes in dynamics and changes in timbre as Brandão switch woodwinds, or Moreira added a little synthesizer to the mix.

Another pseudo-adjective I jotted down was ECMish. Honestly, that one is an even dicier proposition. I wanted to acknowledge the sensitivity and balance between the instruments - like when the band slowly built to an intense state, a storm on the screen, a storm on the stage. It was not forced, rather it billowed from within, centrifugal forces swirling from sax to piano to bass to drums, slowly drawing in the clouds and roiling the ocean waves. At the end, we were washed ashore, an ECMish and emotional journey.


Fire!

Fire! Photo by Vera Marmelo – Gulbenkian Música.

"Good evening," exclaimed saxophonist Mats Gustaffson from the stage of the Gulbenkian's large concert hall. "We're going to play some Fire music, very predictable, but we're looking forward to it like hell!"

He then pulled out his flute and blew a few wispy lines. The lines grew stronger, laced with a folksy whimsy. Then, there were heaving breaths, emphatic pushes of air through the instrument, it was delicate and tough at the same time. A prelude for what was to come.

Now, the bass. A solid, simple few note figure rooted in a natural groove, the type that may make your shoulders twitch and head bop a bit. The lilting beat took on a slight world music feel. The trumpet soon added a new tonal dimension, playing long, flowing lines that danced around the flute work. As the trumpet took over, Gustaffson stepped back and switched to the baritone sax -- kind of the opposite to the flute in terms of, well, everything but the player -- and started physically rocking back and forth, something was brewing. 

Cue the percussion. Under the trumpet's Arabic scales and dedicated, looping bass line, the bass drum and high-hat grew aggressively prominent. Finally, the trombone entered with a simple comping figure, but soon linked up with the trumpet and suddenly there was a brass band on the stage riffing off a simple repetitive and high infectious musical figure.
 
If this is what Gustaffson referred to as 'predictable stuff,' then maybe I completely misunderstood him, as I had not yet heard Fire!'s latest, Defeat (Rune Grammofone, 2021), and was expecting something more, umm, gruff. The core group of Gustaffson, electric bassist Johan Berthling, and drummer Andreas Werlin, have done something new and exciting, in both adding the passionate trumpet playing of Goran KajfeÅ¡ and the expressive trombone work of Mats Äleklint, as well as embracing a more varied approach. It is not total defeat for the nosier aspects of the group, the music still contains fiery elements, noisy electronic passages, and the deep cry of Gustaffson's baritone sax, there is however the amplification of the already existing funkier moments, established by the minimalist looping bass figures and deep pocketed patterns from the drums. It sets a different foundation for Gustaffson to explore the sweeter - and sometimes more laser focused -- sounds of flute, and compliments the rich harmonies from the horns perfectly.

Perhaps what was most impressive was the contrast that the new approach provided. After a mounting groove helped segue from an electronics based section to a primal bari-sax scream, Gustaffson switched quickly to the flute and a sinuous melody rose from the snake charmer basket that the bass and drums had woven. The music was not rushed, each musician had time to develop a solo passage, the others dropping out. A stand out moment was Äleklint's trombone solo about two-thirds of the way through the set, where he was able to capture and focus the entire attention of the generous room on the soft, metallic bite of the horn's round sound.

From the playful moments, like when Äleklint and KajfeÅ¡ traded back and forth with Gustaffson's electronics, to the moving moments from the tightly interlocking bass and drums, to the infectious repeating figures, Fire!'s hypnotizing performance connected with the sold-out audience. In fact, there are often moments in improvised sets where a group, after wandering the sonic landscape for a bit, congeals around a solid rhythm and the audience happily goes along. With this expanded version of Fire!, it seems like Gustaffson has bottled it.

End of the first half ...

Due to some scheduling difficulties on my end, I am not able to stick around for the second half of the Jazz em Agosto festival which starts on Thursday, August 5th with the compositions of the Pedro Moreira Sax Ensemble. The next night, percussionist Gabriel Ferrandini brings his multi-dimensional solo work to the smaller stage, followed in the main hall by the fantastic James Brandon Lewis Quartet. The next evening begins with another richly layered solo drums and electronics performance by Katherine Ernst, followed by the rock-influenced, but jazz rooted, Lisbon band Anthropic Neglect. The final night features the abstract power-trio from drummer João Lobo, and a closing performance from the Italian sextet Roots Magic whose explorations have blended the roots of jazz with accessible contemporary arrangements. Many of the shows are actually already sold out. I'm sorry to be missing these performances, as I suspect they will be as diverse as this weekend that has just drawn to a close. 

In these unpredictable times where planning, usually done well in advance, has become a day-to-day feat, last minute cancellations due to pandemic uncertainties impacted the festival in different ways, which was highlighted in a brief conversation with Jazz em Agosto's musical director, Rui Neves. The festival was difficult to plan, explained Neves. It began with a European focus and was transformed when Norway's restrictions made it impossible for some previously scheduled musicians to travel, but American bands were actually able to perform. Neves explained "the pandemic restrictions obliged us to think in a different way." In the end, sharp ears and agile thinking (not to mention a lot of behind the scenes work) served Jazz em Agosto well. Neves, who is always listening and checking out musicians and groups, takes it in stride, adding "to me it's like making a movie, and I'm like a film director, trying to find the natural way of presenting each band." 

Impressions of A L'ARME! Vol. IX (updated)

Photo by Juliane Schütz 

The 9th A L'ARME! Festival kicked off Wednesday night at Zenner in Berlin's Treptower Park.  An open air event with DJs and drums, the event is a nod to normal, helping to welcome live events back, which tepidly have begun popping up throughout the city (and will hopefully continue... Daumen sind gedrückt.)

After the opening event, the festival heads back to its familiar stomping grounds, Radialsystem, an arts center build from a 19th century water pumping station, across the river in the Friedrichshain neighborhood.

The program for Vol. IX is an ever adventurous mix of experimental music, leaning towards electronics and avant-garde jazz. Including (in no special order or selection criteria) Lotte Anker, Stephen O'Malley, Lucy Railton and Kit Downes, among many others. The Free Jazz Blog cannot be there in person this time around, but we've made arrangements to give you an impression of the event through photos. We'll be updating the images here throughout the weekend, so check back! 

By the way, A L'ARME! 2020, postponed, moved, and finally rendered audience-less, took place as a series of professionally filmed performance videos, which have been popping up on social media and can be seen here.  

- Paul Acquaro

Wednesday, July 28th
Treptower Park, Berlin


Anika. Photo by Juliane Schütz

ARA. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Anika & ARA. Photo by Juliane Schütz

hÄK/Danzeisen, Bernd Norbert Würtz and Phillip Danzeisen. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Thursday, July 29th
Radialsystem, Berlin

A L'ARME curator Louis Rastig

Marcela Lucatelli. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Skultura: Nick Dunston, Ayse Cansu Tanrikulu, Eldar Tsalikov, and Liz Kosack. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Genevieve Murphy & Andy Moor. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Genevieve Murphy & Andy Moor. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Friday, July 30th
Radialsystem

Lucy Railton & Kit Downes. Photo by Juliane Schütz

 Terrie Ex & Peter Zegveld. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Julien Desprez & Farida Amadou. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Lapsus Lumine Plays Moondog Project. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Lapsus Lumine Plays Moondog Project. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Lapsus Lumine Plays Moondog Project. Photo by Juliane Schütz

Marta Del Grandi  — Vocals
Sabrina Oggero Viale  — Vocals
Erika Sofia Sollo — Vocals
Stefano Risso — Double-bass, Comp., Arr.
Feat.
Ernst Reijseger — Cello
Jim Black — Drums


Saturday, July 31
Radialsystem


Zbigniew Chojnacki. Photo by Juliane Schütz.

Unstumm – Supercritical Fluid. Photo by Juliane Schütz.

Nicola L. Hein (De) — Guitar, Electronics
Claudia Schmitz (De) — Live Moving Image Onto Sculpture
Axel Dörner (De) — Trumpet, Electronics Viola
Yip (De/us/hk) — Lightbulbs, Electronics

Lotte Anker and Mattias Bauer. Photo by Juliane Schütz.
  
Karkhana. Photo by Juliane Schütz.

Mazen Kerbaj (De/lb) — Trumpet, Electronics
Sam Shalabi (Cn) — Electric Guitar, Oud
Sharif Sehnaoui (Lb) — Electric Guitar
Tony Elieh (De/lb) — Electric Bass
Maurice Louca (Eg) — Organ, Synth
Umut ÇaÄŸlar (Tr) — Reeds, Flute, Percussion
Michael Zerang (Us) — Drums, Percussion, Cymbal

 
Kali Malone Presents "Does Spring Hide Its Joy" Featuring Lucy Railton And Stephen O’malley. Photo by Juliane Schütz.

Sunday, August 1, 2021

Jazz em Agosto 2021 - Day 2

Photos by Vera Marmelo – Gulbenkian Música

By Paul Acquaro

How do you know on what sound you're dropping the needle? 

I've never understood this, being a long time LP enthusiast, but by no means a DJ, I shakily aim the stylus for the blank area before the starting groove, placing it anywhere else is simply random. So when the Berlin based electronic musician Ignaz Schick deftly switched out one record for another and seemingly knew where he was going with the needle, I drew a comparison to the practiced intonation of an upright bassist or violinist, it's a combination of muscle memory and a lot of practice. 

ILOG2: Ignaz Schick & Oliver Steidle

Oliver Steidle and Ignaz Schick. Photos by Vera Marmelo – Gulbenkian Música

Schick is a body in motion on the stage, behind an elaborate rig of electronics, at least one turntable, mixers, and possibly a laptop? I cannot see it all, but there is a lot of stuff. Stage right sits drummer Oliver Steidle, behind a regular drum kit that he's morphing into something entirely different through hard, precise beats and uncountable (at least to me!) time signatures. He is seeing and feeling patterns and pulses in ways that are as jarring as they are intriguing. 

Schick is conducting a quartet of R2D2s (sorry, this is as evolved as my language around electronic music is at the moment). With complete mastery over the seemingly endless array of sounds from his rig,  these are not random sounds, rather a composition in snippets and dabs of sonic color. There a method to these manipulations and Steidle is reflecting them, just as much as his playing is influencing Schick's next move.  

Through their rhythmic deconstructions, they build something unique. Not an obvious musical structure, this is not four-on-the-floor techno, it is much more frenetic and gripping, even during a 'calm' moment of 11/8-on-the-floor. They are building things anew from fractalized bits of beats and sound. 

However, I find I could also use a bit of a digestif - the brain tries to find patterns in this deliberate chaos, listening for parts, trying to making 'sense', and it can get a bit tired. The musicians know this, hell, they're professionals, both based in Berlin, Steidle is an in demand jazz drummer and Schick is a saxophonist in addition to his work with electronics, and so they know to lower the temperature and simplify the output just before too many heads overheat. This is also where it gets really interesting: the sonic range tightens as both musicians hone in on a particular vibration. A kid, maybe 10 years old, across the aisle is dancing in her seat, so is some young dude a couple rows up. They are bopping to that subconscious something that the duo has tapped into. 

One complaint? I could have done without the ear piercing frequencies that crept up in the later part of the set, otherwise, it was an fascinating experience. It also speaks volumes about the vision of Jazz em Agosto's musical curator Rui Neves. I've spoken to Neves before about his role, documented here, but it is becoming clearer how important it is that he takes such chances on groups like ILOG2, who are are a far cry from traditional jazz and even from free-jazz.  



Ikizukuri + Susana Santos Silva

Ikizukuri + Susana Santos Silva. Photos by Vera Marmelo – Gulbenkian Música

What a name, Ikizukuri, a Japanese word for the practice of preparing sushi from living seafood. In the grand auditorium of the Gulbenkian Foundation's large concert hall, were we the diners or the ones being prepared? From the opening onslaught of the music, it was not quite clear!

Surviving the opening moments of drums and bass, what was clear was that Ikizukuri (Julius Gabriel on soprano sax, Gonçalo Almeida on bass, and Gustavo Costa on drums) with trumpeter Susana Santos Silva are fearless in their fierce blend of free improvisation and heavy, heavy rock. However, the rock is slippery, the beats do not necessarily align, and the sound of the rhythm section is much larger than just the two on the stage. Cutting through the stormy rumblings, the sax and trumpet climb ever higher, in a daring interweaving and juxtaposition of pointy melodic shards. 

This continues for a breathtaking numbers of minutes. Then, following a brief lull, the band starts up again, the bass now even heavier, the drums also louder, and Silva spits fiery notes over the already well-stoked blaze. The group reaches an apex and then the rhythm drops out, leaving the two horns to continue their dance, unchaperoned.

Here seems like a good enough moment to introduce the players - the trio Ikizukuri united with Silva at the Sonoscopia Cultural Association festival in Porto, Portugal in 2020. The organization, which has existed since 2011, produces and promotes experimental music, and seems like a fertile meeting ground for like minded artists (note: review coming soon of two box sets documenting earlier year's events). Silva is nearly a household name, in certain households. Her musical vision is rich and ever evolving. Last year, she appeared at the Jazz 2020 festival with her group Impermanence, dazzling the audience with a blend of atmospheric jazz, rock, and other. German saxophonist Gabriel treads similar ground with a mix of styles and openness to extended techniques and electronics. He's also a part of Barry Guy's The Blue Shroud Band. Almeida is a very active bassist, likewise attracted to extending his sounds with electronics and experimental jazz. His group The Selva also played a memorable set at Jazz 2020. Drummer Costa has a long, impressive CV as a musician and educator, and is a co-founder the Sonoscopia association.

So, this is all to say, these folks know what they are doing, and what they were just doing was shifting the energy down a few notches. Now, they're picking it back up as Gabriel launches into a Evan Parker-like fit of circular breathing and rapid spins of notes. It's an arresting moment, which Silva jumps into then reflecting and refracting Gabriel's playing. 

The first suite of songs end and the band begins the next with an ear-catching heavy, syncopated pulse. Gabriel plays the most 'jazz' like solo of the evening - it even sort of swings. Not to be outdone however, Silva picks up on the feel and turn the heat up a notch or two higher, as the band slides into a deep seated stoner-metal groove. I bang my head. 

Then the relief finally comes. The dark clouds part and the two horns show us to a place where butterflies flutter through abandoned industrial parks, natural beauty amongst the post-apocalyptic landscape. The group, employing wood-block percussion, a double-jointed walking bassline, and liquid-filled breaths though the horns, show us how the butterflies turn into caterpillars - crawling, chewing.

Towards the end, there is return to the heavier but enigmatic rhythmic style, and to a moment where they come to a symphonic climax. The musical vision is dark and noisy, In the grand auditorium the drums and bass may have been a bit too overpowering, but the music is affecting, edgy, and writhingly alive. 


Again, a nod to Neves for the programming. Jazz em Agosto, you surprised me today!