Click here to [close]

Tuesday, August 17, 2021

The 70 Years Young Natsuki Tamura

By Eyal Hareuveni

Japanese trumpeter-composer Natsuki Tamura recently celebrated his 70th birthday and more than fifty years of being a professional musician. But Tamura still plays and sounds as if he is discovering the wonders of making music, eager to experiment with new sounds and instruments, and makes sure that he is having tons of fun. His recent solo endeavors suggest how deep and daring his musical intelligence and imagination are.

Natsuki Tamura - Koki Solo (Libra, 2021) ****½

Now, after playing the trumpet for more than fifty years, Tamura thought that it would be fun to play the piano and the drums. He practiced in a studio near his home in Kobe, did some gigs at the Big Apple jazz club in Kobe where he played the piano, drums and trumpet, and then decided to make a solo album. The Covid-19 lockdown forced him to give up on the drums that could not fit into the small soundproof room of his home, so instead of drums he played and pounded on a large Chinese wok and other pots and pans from his kitchen. Luckily, he still had the grand piano of his partner, Satoko Fujii. Koki Solo was recorded at Tamura’s home in November 2020 during the pandemic lockdown.

Koki - after the Japanese term 古希 for one’s 70th birthday, is Tamura’s fourth solo, and reflects beautifully his sense of adventure, good and often eccentric sense of humor, as well as his lyricism, and rich imagination. Tamura did not care about his lack of technique as a pianist or percussionist. He trusted his instincts and intuition and simply wanted to express himself in new ways. He says that when he plays “I enjoy myself first. I don’t analyze what I do or what I think, I just pursue my feelings. I’m just like a child”.

Koki Solo radiates Tamura’s playfulness and innocent curiosity, with some moody and serious moments. He searches for surprising detours, interruptions and digressions that may introduce him to new, whimsical sonic experiences. The trumpet pieces - the urgent Sekirei'', the lyrical “Kawau”, the abstract “Sagi” or the fragile melody of “Chidori”, demonstrate his natural and virtuous techniques, alternating with themes that sound if were made for some hyperactive matadors, subdued serenity, and hissing noises.

Tamura knows how to cook impressive percussive pieces. “Karugamo”, with its Brazilian-like berimbau playing that brings to mind the like-minded adventurous musical personality of the late Naná Vasconcelos, and “Kamone”, with its Akira-Sakata-like gibberish speech, fully exhaust the potential of kitchen implements with a child-like passion to discover new games. The piano pieces like “Bora” and “Isoshigi” are minimalist but clear and thoughtful, using simple, single-note lines, sustain pedal and wordless singing to create drama, color and texture.


The following solo albums were released on Tamura’s Bandcamp page and built on Koki Solo's engaging experiments:

Natsuki Tamura - Natsuki Tamura plays Trumpet (Self Produced, 2021) ****


The cover photo suggests that Tamura is not going to play the trumpet in any conventional or familiar manner, and, indeed, this album is a perfect showcase for all the things you didn't know that one can do with this brass instrument unless you are equipped with the right extended breathing techniques and a wild and inventive imagination. Tamura sketched a brief, layered drone on “Kumochi”; creates an intense storm that collides a high, cartoonish hissing voice and a raw, muscular one on “Fukiai”; builds offers a series of sparse but playful games with industrial-like sounds on “Kano”; explores noisy, buzzing and ethereal sounds on “Ninomiya” and on the talkative “Kusunoki”; and concludes with the amusing, singing breaths of “Wakihama”. All these pieces tell that Tamura has enough tricks in his bag for quite a few solo trumpet albums.


Natsuki Tamura - Natsuki Tamura plays Piano (Self Produced, 2021) ***½


Tamura is fully aware of his limited capabilities as a pianist, but his profound musicality compensates for whatever advanced techniques he lacks. He focuses here on minimalist pieces that contrast compositional strategies. In the opening, “Dissolve” he focuses on the resonating sounds created by pounding the piano and how out of these firm, repetitive vibrations a fragile melody blossoms. The following “Frozen” solidifies the minimalist atmosphere but with a child-like melody that has an unsettling, lyrical vein. “Division” collides two, nervous melodic lines. “Coagulation” patiently evolves its brief and delicate themes out of repetitive gestures. The last piece “Diffusion” slows down even further into one hand repeating a percussive idea, letting it resonate again and again until it all gravitates into a simple melody.



Natsuki Tamura - NABE KAMA (Self Produced, 2021) ***½

Tamura concluded his liner notes to Koki Solo with a promise that he is planning a live gig where he is going to play only pots and pans, like the ones captured on the cover of NABE KAMA (the Japanese iron pot for cooking rice). The five pieces highlight Tamura’s sense of adventure and eccentric humor, his refined and nuanced ideas about building and releasing tension and suggesting dramatic textures, and the many ways he can make quite a lot of noise with so few utensils. The opening piece “Paku Paku” (referring to his beloved subject, food, the onomatopoeia term for eating quickly. ぱくぱく) and “Jump” offer delicate and colorful dramas. “Mure” and “Kakoh” explore joyful and cacophonic texture. “Kanbora”, like “Karugamo” from Koki Solo, references the Brazilian, berimbau-playing. Tamura cooked a tasty dish here.

Monday, August 16, 2021

Sputnik Trio - What The Hate (Raw Tonk, 2021) ****

By Stef Gijssels

In 2014, Ricardo Tejero on alto, Marco Serrato on bass and Borja Díaz on percussion launched their Sputnik Trio, with a second album in 2016 - "Live Betrayal" and now in 2021 we get their third release in 7 years. Not very productive at first sight ... but the three musicians have been active in various ensembles and solo efforts. 

Tejero is best known for his collaborations with the Dominic Lash Quartet and with drummer Vasco Trilla.  Serrato and Díaz have collaborated on several albums that we reviewed, producing very dark and ominous music with "Orthodox",  on the more violent "Arconte", as members of the "Hidden Forces Trio". Marco Serrato has released several solo bass albums, some of which we reviewed over the years. 

Their Sputnik Trio with Tejero's alto has a different approach: it is free jazz with an edge. The highly energetic trio of the first track starts to deconstruct the music on the second, with more sonic fragments colliding against each other. After the deep and forward moving flow of the first piece, the trio seems to get stuck in the second improvisation, as if they have to fight their way forward, and in my opinion the effect is even stronger, especially when the alto brings some relief or resolution near the end. The third piece, "A Call For Eric" has an interesting yet strange rhythm section, that keeps the pace throughout without too many changes, allowing Tejero to dance along on his alto, equally without too many changes either, moving along with the flow like a paper boat in a brook. "Mongrel Cry" presents a fragmented stubborn environment, in which the sounds move forward haltingly and with some level of desperation. 

The long last track - "Time Hunters" - starts with a long bowed piece on bass. It is of a different nature. The bass and percussion create a totally dark and gloomy atmosphere, with Tejero stretching his trembling notes as long as possible, adding layers of human anguish on top of the strange surroundings. I think this last piece really sets the trio's sound apart from other free jazz endeavours, and maybe something to further develop. 

The Spanish avant-garde jazz universe is limited compared to the size of the country, but this trio is definitely a strong part of it. 

Listen and download from Bandcamp.

Watch them perform some years ago


Sunday, August 15, 2021

Silke Eberhard Trio – Being the Up and Down (Intakt Records, 2021) ****½

By Troy Dostert

Alto saxophonist Silke Eberhard has devoted so much of her career to celebrating the work of past jazz legends that it’s easy to overlook her own steadily growing, formidable catalog. Previous retrieval efforts covering Ornette Coleman with Aki Takase, or Charles Mingus with her I am Three ensemble, not to mention her numerous projects devoted to the music of Eric Dolphy through her Potsa Lotsa outfit, would seem to leave her very little time to cultivate her own aesthetic. But that’s not at all the case, as she’s continually made time for numerous side projects with other artists and, most importantly, several releases with her own trio. Beginning with 2008’s Being (Jazzwerkstatt), bassist Jan Roder and drummer Kay Lübke have teamed up periodically with Eberhard as a vehicle for her own compositions, utilizing a format that gives her a high degree of creative freedom as an improviser. Being the Up and Down, her second trio outing for Intakt after 2017’s The Being Inn, is a potent reminder of just how forceful Eberhard’s instrumental voice can be, and it’s also a delightful opportunity to hear her work with like-minded, sympathetic colleagues who truly complement her as equals.

Eberhard brings a feisty edge to her playing on cuts like “U11” and “Strudel,” where her rhythmic intensity and high-register facility are astonishing, especially in tandem with the lithe contributions of Roder and Lübke, who have an exceptional ability of responding nimbly to Eberhard’s sudden detours. This isn’t free jazz, as there’s a compositional structure to these pieces—but they’re remarkably labile nonetheless, and only a trio with this much shared experience can pull off the quick maneuverings needed to navigate music that can often be quite spontaneous and untethered. In terms of high-energy intensity, the highlight here is undoubtedly the first half of “Strudel,” where Eberhard plays like a woman possessed, with a torrent of ideas flowing almost unstoppably, as her counterparts somehow match her stamina and urgency while preventing everything from flying off the rails. But it’s not all fireworks; the last half of “Strudel” takes on a restrained, easy groove that steers away from the preceding mania via Eberhard’s more earthy, soulful sensibility.

One can hear the traces of Eberhard’s influences here and there; certainly the angular leaps and sing-song quality of “Von A Nach B” bring Dolphy to mind, and the volubility of Eberhard’s alto can invoke Coleman as well on the animated closer, “Yuki Neko.” But what’s just as impressive is the breadth of her compositions: a piece like “Zeitlupenbossa” allows the trio to delve into a mysterious realm with an oblique lyricism; and “Stray Around” uses a catchy Latin rhythm to generate its allure. Each of the record’s nine tracks has its own well-defined character, despite the ample freedom on display, and it’s a tribute to Eberhard’s devotion to her craft that the music is so cohesive and satisfying. It’s also evidence of the trio’s undeniable egalitarianism, as individual egos are really beside the point here. The power of the music is what matters, and this trio provides some terrific moments on this outstanding release.

Saturday, August 14, 2021

A Double Helping of Evan Parker's Electro-Acoustic Ensemble

"We become what we behold. We shape our tools, and thereafter our tools shape us."
Marshall McLuhan

It's been close to a decade since there's been an official release by Evan Parker's Electro-Acoustic Ensemble, the last being Hasselt which was released on Parker's own psi imprint back in 2012, their first album post-ECM. Now on the heels of releases from the Parker/Lytton/Guy Trio in 2019 and the Parker/Lytton Duo in 2020, we have two new releases from Parker's EAE, an expansion of the Parker/Guy/Lytton trio for the exploration of live signal processing within the context of free improvisation. Parker has made incorporating electronics a part of his practice since his late 60's collaborations with Hugh Davies and in fact on the first album of their trio with Guy, 1983's Tracks, both bassist and drummer "use amplification and live electronics to extend the sound of their instruments." It's subtle, but practically sec compared with the brut of their later releases. In 1985 the trio made the excellent, electro-acoustic set Hook, Drift, & Shuffle with legend George Lewis, who also joined Parker on his tremendously engaging 2015 Electro-Acoustic Septet release (also released by Victo, a different group of musicians entirely with the exception of Parker).

The EAE formed in 1992, adding Phil Wachsmann (violins, electronics, and sound processing), Walter Prati (electronics and sound processing), and Marco Vecchi (electronics and sound processing) to complete the sextet, but the group didn't release a record until their excellent 1997 release Toward the Margins on ECM. The group added Lawrence Casserly on electronics and processing for 1999's Drawn Inward, which along with their debut was recorded in the studio. All of the EAEs subsequent releases have been recorded live, in concert.

The year 2002 saw the Ensemble expand to nine when they were joined by Agustí Fernández (piano) and Joel Ryan (computer and live processing) in Oslo, which was documented on 2003's Memory/Vision. On their 2005 release The Eleventh Hour, FURT (Paul Obermayer and Richard Barrett) joined the project (sampling keyboards) in addition to Adam Linson (double bass) for a 2004 date at the Centre for Contemporary Arts in Glasgow. The group's cumulative expansion continued on 2009's The Moments Energy with the addition of Ned Rothenberg (clarinets), Ko Ishikawa (Sho), and Peter Evans (trumpets) for a show that was commissioned by the Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival.

Finally, the aforementioned Hasselt documents concerts over a two day span, which to quote Parker were "...the culmination of a tour that defied the laws of cultural funding." The group swelled to 14 members with the addition of Peter van Bergen (clarinets), who filled in for Phil Wachsmann and Marco Vecchi (sound processing and sound projection) on their most ambitious release to date. So, that's a brief rundown of the whos-and-whats through the last couple of decades or so to help give some context for the significance of these two new releases. One that captures a live performance of the group during May 1996, the same month that they recorded Toward the Margins, and another at the 2019 Ad Libitum festival in Warzawa with what's essentially a re-tooled EAE, Lytton and Parker being the only original members (the original members, going back to their work as a duo).

That sets up quite a contrast and the recordings discussed herein do not disappoint. On the contrary, I would venture to say that these are two of their strongest thus far. Our colleague Stuart Boomer wrote the liner notes for both releases, and I must admit that I got the lion's share of my information about these recordings from said (excellent) notes as well as his insight filled essay on the EAE for his column in Point of Departure, Ezz-thetics . Finally, I realize the McLuhan quote is out of context (though context doesn't seem to stop anyone these days) but it also fits the EAEs M.O. so well I couldn't help myself. I hope our philosophy buff readers will forgive the slight transgression.

Fixing the Fluctuating Ideas (Victo, 2021) ****½

On Fixing the Fluctuating Ideas the original EAE is joined on the first piece by the Tuvan vocalist Sainko Namtchylak in a concert that offers a much appreciated window into their early live sound (they were a group for 6 years prior, touring the UK and performing in Berlin). Sainko and Parker performed earlier on May 15th at Toronto's Music Gallery as documented on the 1997 Victo release Mars Song en route to the Festival International de Musique Actually de Victoriaville (FIMAV) on May 19th of 1996 where this set was recorded. You'll probably either love Sainko's contributions or hate them (I'm solidly in the former category), as that seems to be the nature of 'free' vocals.

The first three minutes of 'Fixing' are hers alone, and she puts on a hell of a performance. Even detractors can't argue that she doesn't hold your complete attention with her coos, operatics, growls, screeches, squeals, snarls, shrieks, and other vehicles for futile descriptors. Then the sampling/live processing begins and Sainko whispers a melody, very softly, beneath processed samples of her vocals that have been twisted into monster forms. What follows is a haunted dialogue between the vocalist and sound processors that she balances out with a bit of sweetness, preceding the emergence of the acoustic instruments. Sainko integrates easily with the group, filling in open gaps with various techniques without it ever feeling forced or overwhelming. The DSP seemingly takes a hammer to the glass sculptures the band constructs, sending shards of the performance swirling about the soundfield. 'Fixing' develops in segments, first the vocals, then the acoustic instruments, then the DSP, then the acoustic instruments without vocals, etc, which keeps the long track fresh. The duration is also unique in that the early EAE albums are composed of shorter tracks, sketches and ideas, whereas here they stretch out at length, ideas bleeding into each other, the group probing and coalescing in ways not heard on their first two albums.

'Fluctuating' starts with a dialogue between the fiddles, which Guy and Wachsmann use to converse in a woody push-pull of shriek and grunt. Lytton and Parker add sparse elements which, rolled through the signal processing, manifest as flickers at the edges of the soundfield. There's a gradual shift to stasis just before the strange spectres return to harass Lytton's extended collection of traps. At times it becomes difficult to discern whether a particular sound is acoustic or electric. Object or reflection. An aural sleight-of-hand that's one of my favorite aspects of the EAEs music. Parker's soprano emerges from the din as a plume of swirling lyrical fractals that is pulled apart like string cheese then granularly redispersed by the signal processing. The quartet of acoustic instruments continue their dialogue as the DSP crew rapidly snatch notes and textures, making them reappear as mutated silhouettes and bizarre sonic artifacts. Guy winds the track down with a show of brute force to affix punctuation to an impossibly good performance. The album isn't available digitally but is sold by all of the usual suspects, it's well worth the small amount of extra effort.

Warzawa 2019 (Fundacja Słuchaj, 2021) ****½

This highly anticipated release from the EAE was recorded in March of 2019 at the Ad Libitum Festival and as mentioned previously, features some new players as well as some old ones. FURT (Barrett and Obermayer) return to contribute their sound processing expertise, while Peter van Bergen is back on clarinets, and Adam Linson, who played on The Eleventh Hour, returns on double bass. Long-time Parker collaborator Matthew Wright joins the fold on laptop and turntables, as does Sten Sandell on piano, Mark Nauseef on percussion, and Percy Pursglove on trumpet. And as I've already mentioned (ad nauseam at this point), the duo of Parker and Lytton round out this updated EAE.

'Part A' winds up in a slow rustling manner. A Goliath awakening. Stretching out the mighty limbs. Shaking off cobwebs. The hypnagogic din is pierced by Pursglove's first few assertive notes, which excites a charge of tiny, flickering sounds that emerge from their electronic ant hill. Pursglove repeats variations of the phrase, like an invocation, stretching long notes across sparse piano soundings and ringing whispers of metallic percussion. Some of the electronic noises are like grotesques, leering and retching at the ensemble as they find their sea legs. Lytton interacts heavily with the samples using small percussion and traps to both imitate and contradict his reflection. The sounds come more frequently, stacking, obscuring, muddying. As the DSP builds in intensity, the acoustic instruments dim, issuing only light accents under a shadow canopy of swirling electronics. Parker plays fluidly over the rustling percussion and skittering electronics, with Sandell thumping out a sturdy accompaniment. Linson's guttural bass scrapings provide a steady drone for Pursglove's abrasive yelps as well as textural detritus for the samplers. As the piece winds down with the general clatter and spit valve sounds, Sandell abruptly closes out with a brief flurry of heavy notes, leading right into the next half of the album...

...which is labeled 'Part B.' Here the decay swells into a hissing, hiccuping drone that's picked at and processed by the electronics something like birds darting after worms. The acoustic instruments offer just enough to keep the particle field of noises fresh, the pantry well stocked. A stuttering effect becomes unexpectedly prominent and marks the beginning of an intense, building rush of sound. The instruments (electronic and not) build into a chimeric multitude that doesn't just color outside the lines but seems oblivious to the desire for any such restriction. There is a discernible peak somewhere before the 12 minute mark and shortly after the piece breaks up into incandescent pieces of shrapnel that creak and groan as they cool. Of course all of this is captured and turned inside out by the processors making everything woozy and surreal, like navigating a house of mirrors on a dyslexic mule while looking through a pair of kaleidoscopes. The piece drifts into stiff piano stabs and inside-the-box noises that sound like they're being delivered at the edge of the void. The album blooms a final time, led by Parker's torrents of exhaust rippling their turbulence over a hazy shimmer of gong (I think) and mulched samples. If you aren't sold by now then I'm afraid I can't help you. The album is a very welcome return from one of Parker's most important groups (IMO) and for me was a lot to absorb in a single listen. Just know that it's even better the second and third time around (and on and on).

I think that despite all the history that's occurred between these two albums the best way to approach them is with a fresh ear (easier said than done now, sorry about that). I've enjoyed them the most when I was able to prevent myself from listening through the lense of my music collection. When I was able to wipe my mind of all the bits and pieces of music writing I've read and information I've accumulated regarding the EAE and simply allow myself to be entertained, amused, even surprised. This is all said much more concisely (and elegantly) in a sentence from Paul Haines in his liner notes for 2000's Dark Rags , Parker's duet with Keith Rowe, "There is no need to listen here as though monitoring; provisions have been made for you to listen creatively, free of clinging past listening, free of the onerous chores of accumulation."

Listening to Warzawa during my commute earlier this summer I noticed that some of the sounds I was hearing were coming from outside of my car. This June marked the emergence of the Brood X cicadas here in the Midwest US. A curious bug, they spend 17 years underground before emerging enmasse to climb the trunks of trees, shed their nymph exoskeletons, and emerge as winged adults for a four-to-six week frenzy of singing, mating, and egg laying. After that they die and their larvae crawl back into the ground to restart the cycle. Their song can reach up to 100 decibels, obviously loud enough for me to hear in my closed, moving car with music playing.

And so it was that I had the unique opportunity to take in a superposition of transformations (and of course I had a little fun with the power windows, 'listening creatively' and whatnot). One transformation represented by the song of these peculiar insects that days/weeks earlier were happily nibbling on tree sap for their 17th consecutive year but whose slow, awkward bodies were now splattering en masse across my windshield and easily being picked off by birds in mid-flight, all to fulfill their obligation and keep things moving forward for the species. The second is represented by the music of the EAE, a group transformed by time and circumstance into something that looks quite different but that has the same DNA, the same nucleus. A revamped vehicle filled with sympathetic ears and chops to match to continue the work at hand and (fingers crossed) the work ahead. Parker and Company continue to mine the rewards and possibilities of Electro-Acoustic improvisation on their singular and ever-evolving endeavors toward the margins.

Friday, August 13, 2021

Guitar: Trios (part 1): Uncited, unsupported, and just gut feeling


A few weeks ago I wrote about several duo recordings featuring the guitar. Guitar and guitar, guitar and bass, guitar and flute, and several other combos. Now, I am moving into trio configurations and the definition of what makes this list gets even trickier. At first, I thought my basic approach is that the guitarist is the group's organizer, but soon realized that doesn't quite fit as I'll be presenting at least two instances where a drummer leads the trio. Sometimes, it is hard to even say who is the leader. I will instead go with the definition that the trio must be comprised of at least 1/3 guitar. This is part one of three to post over the coming weeks.

Desertion Trio -  Number Maker (Cuneiform, 2021) ****


When I began doing my 'research' for Philadelphia based - rooted, rather - guitarist Nick Millevoi's new Desertion Trio album Number Maker, I realized that somehow I had completely missed a release between 2017's Midtown Tilt  and this 2021 release from Cuneiform records. A click on the track 'Taboo' from the Bandcamp page for 2019's Twilight Time revealed a great Morricone influenced track mixing Millevoi's pitch perfect guitar work with vocalese and atmosphere to spare. I noticed that another Pennsylvanian, Ron Stabinsky, contributes piano. Fantastic stuff, but this review is not about that album, it's about this one, Numbers Maker.

Desertion Trio is, in addition to Millevoi, the New Yorkers Johnny DeBlase on bass and Jason Nazary on drums. Numbers Makers was recorded purely as a trio without additional contributors and recorded live in the studio with an audience, suffice to say that some real mid-Atlantic attitude exudes from these tracks. The album sound is more stripped back and a bit crunchier than the others. What we get is some pretty exciting, pure power trio music. The opener 'Albion' kicks things off with, well, a real kick. Then 'Powers' comes along and adds some swagger. It lurches along with a purposeful drag, while Millevoi pushes the tempo, adding tension with a searing solo. Later in the album there seems to be a reworking of 'Taboo' as well. Without the vocals and a little more roughed up, the western sounds are still there, but rawer. At some point, Millevoi seems to hit a fork in trail during his solo and decides to go both directions at once -- guitar effects adding seeming to add more than just color to his crackling lines.

Numbers Makers shows Desertion Trio's collective firepower, and it's
 great. A fantastic addition to the power trio canon  ... or perhaps cannon!



Tim Stine Trio - Fresh Demons (Astral Spirits, 2020) ****

I'm late, late, late on reviewing this one and, as always, feeling regretful about it. Tim Stein, guitarist from Chicago, releases this album in early 2020, and it has been on my mind, and in my ears, for quite awhile now. Maybe that is just what happens with some of best - they become a treasure that you subconsciously just don't really want to share. That's not good practice, as Stine's trio with Chicago based stalwarts Anton Hatwich on upright bass and Frank Rosaly on drums just hits all of the right spots for a trio based around the sound of the acoustic guitar.

The acoustic guitar is an important point, for me at least, on this album. I've may have made this assertation before -- also uncited, unsupported, and just gut feeling -- that the pluck of an acoustic guitar string carries something more than a simple note. There is an emotion behind the physical striking of the string, whether by fleshy finger or plastic pick, that conveys. In these set of knotty tunes, Stine's playing, both in quick single notes runs, and messy tonal clusters, carries such a feeling that extends to the others as well. The opening, title track features interactions between the three musicians that also seem to have a root in the unspoken connection of people and their instruments. The second track '882233', which may refer to a zip code, or the HTML color 'Shiraz' or something else entirely, begins with a syncopated and slightly off-kilter melody from Stine over an shifting groove from Hatwich and Rosaly. The track 'VVVValley' also shines. Following the uneven 'walking' bass intro, the natural dynamics of the group propel the song along, Stine delivering extended and dynamic twisting and turning passages until the track's final decrescendo. 

There are many more acoustically captivating gems in the rest of the tracks - like the quicksilver runs connecting the spacious lead lines in 'Watched Trains' and the serious, dark bass and percussion intro to the closing tune 'FADS,' which if you haven't already discovered, you are encouraged to do so!



Jakob Bro - Uma Elmo (ECM, 2021) ****


Danish guitarist traffics in the sublime. Back in 2015, reviewing his album Gefion, I wrote that it "begins like rowboat trip across a shimmering clear lake of sound." 2021's Uma Elmo begins like the parting of morning mists over that same lake. Arve Henriksen's piccolo trumpet and Bro's arpeggios work together, parting the moist atmospheric wisps. However, there is later a mounting tension, accentuated by Jorge Rossy's gentle but insistent drumming and the increasingly distorted guitar. The beauty of the song is revealed through this juxtaposition of feelings.

The follow up 'To Stanko' is, of course, dedicated to the late trumpeter Tomasz Stanko with whom Bro played on 2009's Dark Eyes (also ECM). The track starts with a gentle drum intro and into an undulating finger picked figure. Henricksen's trumpet playing is somewhat subdued, but sharp, and his melody weaves through the guitar latticework like a vine. Elements of Eastern European folk figures pop up like small flowering buds, then quietly fade away. 'Beautiful Day' shows a different side of the guitarist's work, while Bro is still using purposefully plucked notes, there is an underlying tension built through effects,  while Henricksen's brass works a more abstract melody with big intervallic jumps.  'Sound Flower' on the other hand trends towards bittersweet beauty. After a signature build up of sound, Henricksen plays sweeping arcs that resolve into a tender melody, while Bro lifts the trumpeter's lines with swells of chords, and a quiet blubber of electronics.

The songs on Uma Elmo (which is apparently named after Bro's two young children's middle names) are pulled from different points of his musical life. Some compositions, like 'Beautiful Day' which was composed in 1998 or 'Sound Flower', which is similar old, stand up just as strongly as the melancholic and newly composed 'Morning Song', a testament to good compositions as well as Bro's choice of bandmates to help interpret his ideas. A lovely, evocative album.

Wolfgang Muthspiel - Angular Blues (ECM, 2020) ****


We may as well stay in ECM-land for the moment, as Austrian guitarist Wolfgang Muthspiel's Angular Blues from 2020 is a fitting companion to Bro (musically as well as label-based). Whereas Bro uses carefully curated air to suspend his delicate compositions, Muthspiel uses denser elements, like busier basslines and fuller melodies, however, there is a similar mindfulness flowing through both guitarists work.

Angular Blues begins with 'Wondering' and right away a kinetic bassline is front and center, establishing the mid-tempo energy of the piece. Muthspiel's acoustic guitar work builds off of a mix of quick runs and chordal fragments. The mood is upbeat and the guitarist kicks over the attention to bassist Scott Colley. The trio is rounded out by drummer Brian Blade, whose strong but unobtrusive drumming adds a definite punch to the energy. The title track is one that sticks. After repeated listens to the album, it has become the 'hit' to my ears, as I find myself mentally scatting along with the melody. The acoustic guitar sound is key, it's wholesome, bright, and - yeah, this is a cheesy word - pure. The sound itself compliments the energetic bass solo and the titillating drum fills, and characterizes the catchy arpeggios that serve as both harmonic and melodic components. 'Huettengriff' is a slow moving tune, full of gravitas, while 'Camino' introduces the electric guitar to the album. The tone becomes a bit sharper and incisive on this slice of  mid-tempo modern jazz. 'Ride,' the following track, is a tasty, uptempo slice.  Overall, Angular Blues is  an inviting, enjoyable, and accessible guitar led trio album. Muthspiel's delicate, precise playing is well served by his A-team colleagues and ECM's crystal clear recording.

John Zorn - Teresa De Ávila (Tzadic, 2021) ****½


Saxophonist and composer John Zorn's Teresa De Ávila is the third in a triology of compositions based on figures from Christian myths, preceded by Nove Cantici per Francesco d’Assis and Virtue (for Julian of Norwich). Listening to the recording, it is not clear how much these figures imbue the work, as what we hear could easily be regarded as a gorgeous collection of songs, performed on acoustic guitar, that borrow elements of classical, Klezmer, bluegrass, jazz and the ever ambiguous Americana, performed by a trio of masterful guitarists: Bill Frisell, Gyan Riley, and Julian Lage.

Zorn's unbelievably prolific output is dotted with such albums, Masada Guitars with Marc Ribot, Bill Frisell, and Tim Sparks was a collection of beautiful solo guitar renditions of tunes from the Masada book, 2017's Midsummer Moons with Lage and Riley, and of course the others in this trilogy: 2018's Virtue and 2019's Nove Cantici Per Francesco D’Assisi. I suspect that there are more that I just am not aware of as well. What all of these share, besides the impeccable technical expertise of the musicians, is a delicate sense of the strengths of the instrument.

The album begins with the track 'Devotion', which seems apt in terms of St. Teresa who was characterized by her dedication to a purer and aesthetic religious devotion (she was critical figure in church reform in the fifteen hundreds). The song begins on a hopeful note, a major chord and a melody that has a folk-like simplicity, as well as surprising depth. The structure of the song is very much tied to the chord progression. Though there are bluegrass elements to the guitar lines and note choices, the chords move in a more classical manner. The allure of the song is apparent from the start, and its openness still contains a shroud of mystery. The next track, 'El Castillo Interior,' is named after St. Teresa's book of spiritual guidance, in which she saw the soul as a diamond (it's more complex than that, but I deal in the simple). The essence of the metaphor is captured in the slowly developing song - imagine holding a diamond in your hands, turning the sides, inspecting the cuts, the angles, the flaws, the resilient beauty. Now hear the crystalline melodic lines forming such cut shapes. The track 'Teresa' begins reflective and inward looking, however it picks up with a rhythmic chordal vamp, over which a very modern sounding melody is overlaid. 'El Camino,' the title of another of St. Teresa's books, seems to actually have a bit of  bluegrass feel to it, but with a streak of something darker through it.

Absolutely absorbing music that grows deeper on each listen.

Thursday, August 12, 2021

Tony Malaby - Turnpike Diaries Vol. 1, 2, 3, 4 & 5 (Self, 2020 & 2021)

By Stef Gijssels

Who would not want saxophonist Tony Malaby in their band? In the last few years, he has released albums with Satoko Fujii's Orchestra New York, Harris Eisenstadt, Mark Helias, Chris Lightcap, John Hollenbeck, Kris Davis, Jeff Davis, Nick Fraser, Jacob Sacks, Samo Salomon, Rob Burke, Simon Nabotov, Eivind Opsvik, Angelica Sanchez, Tom Rainey, Ches Smith ... and many more. All stellar musicians themselves. In this prolific environment, Tony Malaby launched his own "Turnpike Diaries" series, with albums downloadable via bandcamp. On this series, he invites many of the musicians cited above for improvisations. 

The title comes from the place where the music is recorded, as quoted by Malaby himself on the liner notes: "I started playing sessions on July 6, 2020 with Billy Mintz and John Hebert under a turnpike bridge not far from my home (this is meant literally, see video below). We would play 3 to 4 times a week, slowly more friends began to come to play with me in addition to the trio with Mintz and Hebert. I want to share some of these field recordings with you and want to begin with this session that took place on October 19. My walk to the spot with both horns on my back was so full of joy and anticipation because I was going to throw sound with some of my favorite improvisors and mentors - my “Jefes”. What a nice definition of free jazz. And that is what you get. Enthusiasm, musical joy and stellar musicianship all brought in lengthy and powerful improvisations. He downplays it a little bit. True, this is 'throwing sound with some friends', it's just that the friends happen to be among New York's best musicians, and that the improvisations are very cohesive, coherent and focused. 

On Volume 1, the band consists of Malaby on tenor and soprano, Tim Berne on alto, Mark Helias and Michael Formanek on double bass, and Ches Smith on drums. All five musicians quickly find a natural flow to the music, and the interaction between both saxes is a pleasure to hear, each in their typical style and sound, yet so great together. 

On Volume 2, the band consists of Malaby on tenor and soprano, Michael Formanek on bass and Mark Ferber on drums. This trio gets my preference when I listen to it, but somehow I have the same feeling when I listen to some moments on the other albums. 

On Volume 3, the band consists of Malaby on tenor and soprano, William Parker on bass and tuba, and Billy Mintz on drums. Also this trio deserves a more professional production. What a pleasure to hear. 

On Volume 4, the band consists of Malaby on tenor and soprano, Christopher Hoffman on cello, William Parker on bass, and Billy Mintz on drums. Malaby explains that he prepared "4 themes - most are no more then 2 bars long and were given to Chris the night before", in the assumption that Parker and Mintz did not require any preparation. 

On Volume 5, "Jersey Candombe", the band consists of Malaby on tenor and soprano, Kenny Warren on trumpet, Sean Ali and Brandon Lopez on bass, and Billy Mintz, Ches Smith and Flin van Hemmen on percussion. A Candombe is a Urugayan style of music. The playing is intense. 

I will not review each album in detail, that would bring us too far. This is free jazz in its core concept: experienced musicians meet, improvise and deliver. 

Malaby is indeed a wonderful saxophonist, whose warm signature tone can easily be recognised: he has a special timbre in his sound, a high level of lyricism in his soloing, and a sense of phrasing that often ends in jubilant tones (and sounding sometimes sad and joyful at the same time). Despite his recognisable voice, he is sufficiently inventive to keep the music going, in solid interaction with the various line-ups. Even the longest track on Volume 4 which lasts almost one hour, is something you want to listen to again when it's finished. To me one of the revelations of the series is drummer Billy Mintz, whose crisp and energetic drumming is critical for the overall sound. 

It's interesting to see how the lockdown resulted in different approaches to music: more solo performances, more virtual ensembles, and less live performances. I think Malaby managed to find an interesting solution to perform outdoors with other musicians, even if it is more than sad to see New York's finest musicians perform under these conditions. Despite the environment, the recording quality is surprisingly good. 

Listen and download from Bandcamp: Vol 1, Vol 2, Vol 3, Vol 4, Vol 5

Watch Tony Malaby, John Hébert and Billy Mintz 'under the turnpike' in Jersey City on August 26, 2020. 



Watch Tony Malaby, William Parker and Billy Mintz

Wednesday, August 11, 2021

Wadada Leo Smith / Douglas R. Ewart / Mike Reed - Sun Beans of Shimmering Light (Astral Spirits, 2021) ****½

 By Gregg Miller

A live recorded performance of spontaneous improvisation from 2015 at percussionist Mike Reed’s venue Constellations in Chicago, this musical meeting of trumpeter Wadada Leo Smith, multi-instrumentalist Douglas Ewart and Reed is a small treasure trove full of delights. The recording here is from the second outing of this trio.

A musician’s musician, Douglas Ewart’s long musical and working relation with Wadada Leo Smith goes back to about 1967, the early days of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM) in Chicago. A next generation (is it the fourth?) AACM member since 2008, Mike Reed served as chairperson to the Chicago chapter from 2009 to 2011. In addition to Constellations he (with trumpeter Josh Berman) make music happen at Chicago’s The Hungry Brain.

Back in 1973, Leo Smith published a pamphlet (200 copies printed) on the AACM and creative music. He wrote: “technique for the improvisor is . . . a direct attunement with the mental, spiritual and mechanical energy necessary to express a full creative impulse. . . . it is the all-out goal to respond to the solo creative impulse from within which makes for the uniqueness of originality among all creative performers” (notes (8 pieces), source a new world music: creative music, p. 15). Smith’s sensibility lines up nicely with Ewart’s philosophy of music from earlier this year: “Improvisation is intrinsic to human life, survival, and THRIVAL. It must not be spoken of and dealt with like a thing apart, it rather must be encouraged, fostered, and wholeheartedly embraced if we are to take wings and soar in body, mind, and spirit. Improvisation is key to uncovering, discovery and invention” (Ewart, “Meditations for George Floyd & the Confluence of Covid, a New Paradigm,” by Hallwalls Contemporary Arts Center, Buffalo, NY, (accessed 2021/01/22)).

The proof their shared conviction in the spiritual and creative power of improvisation can be found in the Sun Beans of Shimming Light. This is a very affecting, moving album, though without the sweep or solemnity of, say, Smith’s Ten Freedom Summers (Cuneiform, 2012) or The Great Lakes Suites (Tum Records, 2014), and there are no live electronics as on Smith’s super-interesting Luminous Axis (Tzadik, 2002). A purely acoustic affair here. Douglas Ewert’s instruments are not listed, though at a guess, he is playing bassoon, English horn, bamboo flute, and sopranino saxophone. Ewart’s highly expressive didjeridu doesn’t show up; for that you’ll have to listen to his brilliant Songs of Sunlife: Inside the Didjeridu (Innova, 2004), or catch him with dancers here. On drum kit, percussionist Mike Reed’s basic modus operandus is to lay back and let the big guns do their thing. He lays down some attractive underflooring, but is most often a colorist to the horn players’ instant melodies and storytelling. The playing overall is mostly relaxed, soulful, and tuneful; they also rise occasionally into strident, statement mode on the power of Wadada Leo Smith’s horn.

“Constellations and Conjunctural Spaces” (track 1) is an almost 16 minute mini-suite, and the best example here of the trio at work. The next 3 tracks mostly feature shifting duos and solo work, with the trio concept taking a back seat. This track opens as a trumpet/bassoon duo with a semi-classical vibe. They seek and find common tones and work off of variations. All formality and patience. Reed enters about 4 minutes in, and the energy begins to turn. Snare rolls, snarls, dissonance, trilling, some intense parlay and note cycling in the vein of Roscoe Mitchell when Ewart changes instruments to what sounds like an English horn or a shenai.

Both horn players channel and communicate so much character! Mike Reed plays as a slightly more laid back Andrew Cyrille in his sensitivity and touch. As Reed gives percussive direction to the trio, the mood opens, and the horns experiment with pitch and timbre rather than matching intervals. An ordered cacophony, Smith throws down note clusters, Ewart works intensities of vibration or snaking lines from which emerge snippets of song, blaring outbursts, and then a retreat to classical phrasing. Ewart can do it all, it’s just a question of curating among his wide-array of tools. Smith’s playing is more singularly evocative, never quite departing from a tone which is his personal voice (to my mind is like him standing over a valley delivering a call to common prayer that says,“Hey, you, get with it”).

Track 2 (“Sun Beans of Shimmering Light”) opens with hard-hits on a prayer bell lingering and Smith’s characteristic long lines. Resonant crashing pangi shells and clutter, then cymbals and brushwork on snare. Ewart enters 3 and half minutes in for a very expressive bamboo flute over Reed’s brushes. Both horn players are such masters of producing their own melodies on the fly. Smith re-enters and a romantic dance between flute and muted trumpet takes the tune to its ending.

Track 3 (“Super Moon Rising”) begins with African thumb piano played probably by Smith, who put the mbira to such good use on his version of Love Supreme (on his virtually peerless record, Kulture Jazz (ECM, 1992)). He soon moves to an extended trumpet-percussion duo with Reed playing mallets on toms and cymbals, and then a tempo forward snare. From patient calm to anxious and bold. Ewart enters, at first with a throbbing undertow as Smith continues to make his statements over busy drumming. Things subside, and with some lilting phrases of Ewart’s sopranino sax, Smith bows out and Reed offers up a swinging rhythm over which Ewart’s ringing, intervallic cycles take the tune out.

Track 4 (“Unknown Forces”) opens with solo trumpet traveling from elegiac to guttural and back again, one musical thought after another patiently, thoughtfully delivered. With a hint of reverb, Smith’s personal, distinctive sound. Legato ruminations; then splat, splat, spitting. Five minutes in, Reed enters with ride cymbal hits, signaling a change. Ewart’s turn to solo. Ewart fills his English horn to capacity, you can feel the vibrations. Long notes, full-bodied, resonant, unadorned. Such cerebral and spiritual players.

Listen and download from Bandcamp

Tuesday, August 10, 2021

Wadada Leo Smith, Milford Graves, Bill Laswell – Sacred Ceremonies (TUM, 2021) *****


By Nick Ostrum

This year marks Wadada Leo Smith’s 80th birthday. It is also the year that master-percussionist Milford Graves’ died, just short of his own 80th birthday.

Beyond just this coincidence of birth-year, it is fitting that these two figures would team up on Sacred Ceremonies. Despite emerging out of different scenes and cities (Smith, an early participant in Chicago’s sharply abstract AACM collective and Graves finding his voice in New York’s jazz-oriented free music circles), both have since become legends in the free jazz world and have unapologetically and undauntingly pursued their own avenues of creative expression. Both, moreover, came into their own as part of a generation that struggled to get this type of music recognized as the high art that it is. On Sacred Ceremonies, they are joined by downtown bass and production guru Bill Laswell, who, at a sprightly 66, represents the subsequent generation, which took over after the loft scene dissipated and pushed the music further from the acoustic realms of Smith and Graves’ early days into darker electronic, dub- and rock-inflected soundworlds still influencing the free jazz experimentalism of today.

Rather than diving further into the biographies and discographies of these figures myself, however, I will leave that to the booklet that accompanies this set. Instead, let us move directly to the music.

Sacred Ceremonies is a three-disc collection of Smith duos with Graves (Disc 1) and Laswell (Disc 2) and a trio session with all three musicians (Disc 3). Along with the three-disc solo set Trumpet, it is the first of a projected six albums Smith will release through TUM this year in celebration of his 80 years (and counting!) on earth.

Disc 1: Wadada Leo Smith & Milford Graves

I have been listening to Milford Graves more attentively over the last couple of years, and especially since his passing in February. Recorded in 2014 and 2015, this captures Graves past his physical prime but before the amyloid cardiomyopathy took its toll. That said, maybe because of the physical limitations imposed by old age and his years of theorizing and performing, Graves’ playing is as curious and engaging as anything I have heard from him. Some of this is the duo setting. It lends space, and Graves fills it with his singular sense of rhythm (or concerted lack thereof) and his woody tunings. Indeed, it often sounds like Graves is implying rather than playing a beat, while spitting out endless sheets of coarsely textured polyrhythms.

From his earliest days in with Anthony Braxton, the AACM, or in his own solo expeditions, Smith has carved out his own singular space in such environments. His trumpet alternates between impeccable clarity and bluesy decay. One hears echoes of Smith’s celebrated work on The Great Lakes Suites, America’s National Parks, 10 Freedom Summers, and some other of his more epic releases from the last decade. That said, the context of such aesthetic decisions here is quite different, and he and Graves quickly establish an intimacy that is absent those more sweeping and soaring projects. Indeed, Graves keeps him grounded, both complementing and challenging him. In the process, he forces Smith from the more majestic apotheotic narratives of those other projects to more personal explorations of interiority and the beautiful imperfections of the human condition. The result is utterly mesmerizing.

Disc 2: Wadada Leo Smith & Bill Laswell

I was lucky enough to catch Laswell and Smith at the old Stone a few years ago. This disc reminds me of their first set that night, which my friend, who ended up loving the second set with the Najwa ensemble, observed sounded a little aimless. Maybe there was an overconfidence, or an overreliance on the power of their physical and sonic presence in such a compact space. Maybe they were just warming up. Whatever the reason, it sounds like a similar process is going on here. Disc II sounds like two legends jamming, just before for the big show when Milford will join them.

This disc also reminds me of a cleaner take on The Bells, a bass heavy collaboration between Don Cherry, Lou Reed, Ellard ‘Moose’ Boles (bass), and a few other Reed-men. Or, a pared down take on the aesthetics that underlay Dennis González’s Nights Enter, though this is much sparser, and the isolation of the bass, synth, and trumpet create the impression of incredible depth. It is engaging, but it is also somewhat meandering between shades of ambience, periods of pulsing grooves wherein Laswell seems finds his funk (Minnie Ripperton-The Chicago Bronzeville Master Blaster [what a tribute]), and Smith’s ethereal but ephemeral runs and yelps. This is good music, but somehow lacks the punch or the conviction of the discs that precede and follow it.

Disc 3: Wadada Leo Smith, Bill Laswell, & Milford Graves

This is the culmination. A quick glimpse at the liner notes reveals that Smith composed some of these pieces, though I have trouble distinguishing the composed from the improvised. (Some of this uncertainty on my part might derive from Smith’s tendency toward graphic scores, though I am not sure whether or how he used them on this project.) Laswell seems more inspired than on the second disc. Smith attacks harder and plays with more concertedness. Graves lays some unrelenting percussive groundwork on which Laswell constructs his dark, liquid atmospheres. Much of the time, the pulse of the bass drum and the bass guitar blend almost indistinguishably as Graves adds his tangent pitter-pat rhythms and Laswell, his plucks and wahs. It sounds as if the percussion and the electric bass are mimicking the gurgling and hushed energy of a swamp, creating their own unified ecosystem of disparate sounds. When turned low, it sounds like a disorderly drone, but when played at a proper volume, one can hear a music humming with energy.

It is out of this beautiful mire that Smith’s trumpet arises posing a shimmering contrast to the burble of activity. Indeed, the horn seems to cut through the water, the mud, the humidity, the fauna to fill the sky, only to dive back into the muck. It is this vining pattern of unsteady aerial dance and dive that unites these pieces. Graves and Laswell push and pull but play remarkably tightly. Smith weaves, wends, and breaks through the interweave at calculated will. Indeed, this tension between Laswell’s producer’s ear, which lends itself to smooth transitions and juicy bass lines, Graves’ heart-beat percussive rootedness, and Smith’s singular quest for the perfect tone (whether crisp, jagged, or dragged off into infinity) in the perfect place make this disc work so brilliantly.

NB: For those who fetishize the physical release, the packaging is sleek and the booklet includes some striking photos of the three musicians, including some particularly fine ones of Graves, to whom the project is dedicated. It also has pithy bios of each musician, examples of Smith’s beatific poetry and reproductions of some stunning reproductions of paintings by the Finnish artist Leena Luostarinen. This is one to own.

Monday, August 9, 2021

Wadada Leo Smith - Trumpet (TUM, 2021) *****

By Stef Gijssels

At the occasion of Smith's 80th birthday, Finnish label TUM releases some wonderful presents for all fans of the American trumpeter. Tomorrow colleague Nick Ostrum will review his trio performance with Bill Laswell and Milford Graves - "Sacred Ceremonies" - also on the same label. 

The second is a 3-CD box with over two hours of only solo trumpet by the master, with an accompanying 44-page booklet. Is this overkill? Is this really not too much? Possibly in the hands of lesser artists, but Wadada Leo Smith manages to capture the attention throughout. His style does not change much from already known solo albums: the music is magnificent, glorious, meditative, expansive, solemn, spiritual, human, ecstatic at times, deeply sensitive at others, it is welcoming, open-minded and open-ended, ... (please add other qualifiers and superlatives as you see fit). 

The album is not just a collection of existing improvisations. It was recorded during a whole week in the summer of 2016 at St. Mary´s Church in the town of Pohja, on the Southern Coast of Finland, where Petri Haussila, the label's owner lives. It is the only building to have survived and to serve as a reminder of the town´s medieval history along the King´s Road, which was the main road from Norway and Sweden via Finland to Russia for several centuries.

All the pieces are inspired by and dedicated to people the artist admires, beginning with Albert Ayler, but also Howard McGee, Miles Davis, Steve McCall, Leroy Jenkins, the author James Baldwin, Amina Claudine Myers and Reggie Workman. Next to musicians, he also gives a solo performance of his tribute to "Malik al-Shabazz and the People of the Shahada" - the name of Malcolm X after he became a sufi muslim - a composition that also appeared in a Golden Quintet version on "Ten Freedom Summers" (2012). It's interesting to compare both renditions. 

The tributes are combined or alternated with more spiritual suites, starting with the five parts of "Rashomon" (CD1), inspired by the 1950 movie by Kurosawa in which a murder can be viewed completely different depending on the perspective, "The Great Litany" (CD2), also in five parts, and then two suites on CD3: "Discourses on the Sufi Path" and "Family - A Contemplation of Love". It must be clear that the ambition of the album is grand. 

Of the 81 albums he released since 1971, this is only his seventh solo album. The other ones are: 

  • Creative Music - 1 (Six Solo Improvisations) (TMS Records, 1971)
  • Solo Music Ahkreanvention (Kabell, 1979)
  • Kulture Jazz (ECM, 1993)
  • Red Sulphur Sky (Tzadik, 2001)
  • Red Chrysanthemums Solos 1977 (Corbett vs Dempsey, 2015)
  • Solo: Reflections And Meditations On Monk (TUM, 2017)
Smith has written music for all kinds of ensembles, from duets over jazz quartets, string ensembles to more ambitious orchestra music. While most of these endeavours have been successful and come highly recommended, the wonderful abundance of his solo playing on this album is a welcome change. Considering the nature of his music, his definition of the role of the artist to connect hearts and souls with the greater space around us ...

With inspiration,
Vision, and an elegant breath, the performer
Releases a message from the source
Through the horn.

The trumpeter pushes forth a
Music-field that pierces the soul and
Unlocks the hearts of the silent lovers.

In performance,
Secrets are unveiled through sound,
Rhythm, silence and space.

Creative music is expressed in the
Languages of the heart and soul.

The mystery of the Beloved
Is coded.

... the solo performance brings this role to a totally different level, more direct, purer, freed from the distractions from listening and adapting (which of course are critical in ensemble performances). The result is music brought to a degree of abstraction, clarity, sincerity and precision, transformed to what musical essence could mean. It is less about the social context of people performing together, and more about the place of the individual in the universe. Could it stand next to Bach's Sonatas and Partitas for Solo Violin, in my opinion one of history's most majestic solo compositions? No doubt.  The music shares the same inherent tension of austere generosity, of measured abundance, of solemn euphoria, of human passion and religious spirituality, all delivered with virtuoso precision and depth. 

I can also refer the reader to the entire page that TUM dedicates to this album (actually the accompanying booklet in digital form), including comments on the different tracks by the artist, poems about his music and philosophy. 

Don't miss this one. 

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.