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Tuesday, September 14, 2021

Ingrid Schmoliner & Hamid Drake – Awon Ona (Klanggalerie, 2021) ****½

By Stef Gijssels

Throughout this album, the listener is taken from one suprise to the next. The music is an unreal mix of structural and compositional cleverness, improvisational inventiveness and stylistic collision and harmony. 

You cannot possibly find two more different musicians finding a common voice. Austrian pianist and composer Ingrid Schmoliner comes from a classical avant-garde background, with experience in free improvisation. Chicagoan Hamid Drake is one of the most versatile jazz drummers around, the king of polyrhythms and with an encyclopedic knowledge of rhythmic patterns from around the world. 

The combination is extraordinary in both the literal and metaphorical sense of the word. This is not world music, because the genres do not blend into some in-between-state, but keep their strength and character while being in full harmony. Schmoliner and Drake find themselves on various levels: the rhythmic complexities, the shamanistic singing, even if the styles are again totally different, their openness to new forms and the universal language of music, the solemn freshness and the natural organic flow of their sounds. 

Schmoliner's style on her prepared piano is all her own: rich, intense, harmonic, with lots of repetitive and rhythmic elements, dramatic at times, cinematic at others, and she has the incredible power to be controlled and full of musical abanon at the same time. Harmonically, her playing remains deeply rooted in the classical idiom, not in jazz. She is also a trained singer, specialised also in overtone singing and yodeling.

The album tracks and the title all come from the Yoruba language from Nigeria, at least from what I could deduct from some internet searches (Keke (wheel), Igbi (wave), Eeru (ash), Afefe (air), San (stream), Ina (fire), Joidi (?), Emi (me), Aago (time), E Dupe (thank you), Gbogbo Ibi (everywhere). The album's title could mean "ways", an apt description of the different roads in music can all lead to the same place. 

"Emi" is an amazing 13-minute mesmerising piece built around repetitive phrases and with a steady rhythm, that first flows like rapids, relentlessly, wild and powerful, allowing Drake to show is artistic mastery of adding even more complex rhythms to the endless stream of notes and harmonies that gush from the piano, and even later in the piece, when the speed diminishes, she produces a superfast repetitive playful phrase with her right hand, and Drake is with her, despite the change, despite the sudden shift in mood. 

On "Joidi", Schmolinger's singing brings an update from "Kumts" on "Watussi" from 2013, an incantation that demonstrates her vocal skills and spiritual force. 

"Aago" is built around sustained deep tones, possibly the result of strings being stroked inside the piano, with Schmoliner singing. Drake emphasises the eery feeling and sense of anticipation. The darkness of the percussion and the single repeated piano note contrast with her bright singing and beautiful melancholy tone. 

"E Dupe" starts with some incredibly rich drumming by Drake, inviting Schmoliner in with her own percussive repetitive fireworks, and evolving into Drake's Arabic spiritual chanting, without any of the intensity of the piano or drums losing any of its power. 

I will not review all improvisations, but the combination of contrasts and alignment, its bifurcation and convergence is omnipresent, of the modern with the ancient, the particular with the universal, the boundary-breaking with the traditional, all blending into this wonderful co-creation of relatively unique and often spectacular music. 

The first CD was recorded in "Live At Artacts" festival in Austria on March 6, 2020, the second CD at the Jazz Cerkno Festival in Slovenia on September 19, 2020. 

Listen and download from Bandcamp. 


Monday, September 13, 2021

Joëlle Léandre / Pauline Oliveros / George Lewis - Play As You Go (Trost, 2021) *****

By Eyal Hareuveni

French double bass master Joëlle Léandre and American accordionist and electronics player Pauline Oliveros and electronics player and trombonist George Lewis are great pioneers of free and experimental music on both sides of the Atlantic, influential thinkers and role models and inspiring educators. Play As You Go is the only recording of these three masters sharing the same stage, captured by the national Czech radio station during the festival VS. Interpretation in Prague in July 2014.

But these musicians have known each other since the early eighties. Léandre first met Oliveros in New York when she was performing British-American composer Bernard Rands’ “Memo 1” for solo double bass, and later played with her in festivals all over Europe. In 2002, Oliveros and Fred Frith invited Léandre to be a visiting professor, teaching improvisation and composition at the Mills College in Oakland. This cooperation led to the recording of The Space Between (482 Music, 2003, with shakuhachi player Philip Gelb and pianist Dana Reason). Léandre first recorded with Lewis in 1982, as a free-improv quartet with Derek Bailey and Evan Parker, 28 Rue Dunois Juillet 1982 (Fou, 2014). Two years later Lewis invited Léandre to record his seminal composition Rainbow Family with Bailey, Steve Lacy and Douglas Ewart (Carrier, 2020), and throughout the eighties, they continued to collaborate with outfits led by Irène Schweizer and Anthony Braxton. Their last collaboration as a duo was recorded at the 2008 edition of the Vision Festival, Transatlantic Visions (RogueArt, 2009).

Play As You Go accumulates decades of experience in improvising and spontaneously composing at the moment. Obviously, and as sax player and scholar Tracy McMullen mentions in her insightful liner notes, deep listening, sonic awareness are essential for such a meeting, or as Oliveros taught us: full attention and openness to another, another which is sound, includes the sound that you make. Deep listening demonstrates that we can conceive of our relationship to the other not in terms of being recognized, but in terms of generous giving. Lewis adds to Oliveros Buddhist-tinged concepts the idea that we can live in an ever-present now and this idea denies the reality of history and the habits and momentum that shape our racist, sexist, capitalist present, and this leads to a resistance to accept the dualisms of the West. Our practice is to perceive things clearly, respond appropriately (that is ethical, born out of clear-perception) and to understand the biggest picture: that the ignorance of the world is not the world. Léandre wraps these notions in a simpler way: have fun and love each other. Then, at a certain point, we may find ourselves in a space where no instruction is needed, no remembering is needed.

Play As You Go offers 44 magical minutes. This piece draws you immediately into a colorful, almost psychedelic and spiritual sonic adventure that has its very own timeless logic and highly expressive language. It may sound at first as a secretive, exotic language that only Léandre, Oliveros and Lewis share but very soon you may feel quite proficient in their coded, layered messages, imaginative but refined dialects and fascinating nuances. Eventually, you will feel that these generous listeners-improvisers see you - the listener - as an integral part of their journey, and want to share with you the deep joys of celebrating being in the moment, a moment that holds at once all of our past and all of our future. An emotional and poetic moment that goes beyond the dichotomy of free and not free, acoustic vs. electronics, or improvised vs, composed. For a brief 44 minutes Léandre, Oliveros and Lewis become one with the music, sharing and enriching each other’s ideas and making it bigger than themselves, feeling the rare elation of reaching such close and profound understanding, but not taking themselves too seriously, and insist on having fun.

A masterpiece.


vs. Interpretation 2014 - Play as you go - George Lewis / Pauline Oliveros / Joëlle Léandre from Agosto Foundation on Vimeo.

Sunday, September 12, 2021

Benoît Delbecq 4 – Gentle Ghosts (Jazzdor, 2021) ****

Some music grabs me by the shirt collar, seizing my attention and refusing to let go, perhaps with an irresistible melody, or an infectious groove. Other music accosts me with a melee of sonic projectiles, bombing and blasting, daring me to search for something stable to grab onto. And still other music extends me an invitation to consider entering a space containing a wide variety of phenomena—details that can be appreciated from a distance, or curiously examined up close, or anything in between. To my ear, this album of quaintly intricate tunes mostly inhabits the lattermost description. (Of course, there’s also music that achieves all the above and more, praise be!)

The performing ensemble on Gentle Ghosts (Jazzdor Series, 2021) is led by Benoît Delbecq, who wrote all compositions, plays piano and prepared piano, and simultaneously contributes real-time electronic feedback through a fascinating process he terms “post-radiophonic.” Mark Turner plays tenor saxophone, and has been in Delbecq’s ensembles since at least 2003. Gerald Cleaver plays drums and John Hébert plays bass, with whom Delbecq has played on two excellent albums as the John Hébert trio. These four artists’ prior recording was the wonderful Spots on Stripes (Clean Feed, 2018).

On the heels of The Weight of Light (Pyroclastic, 2021), Delbecq’s remarkably creative solo effort from earlier this year, his Gentle Ghosts album endeavors further innovation—the aforementioned “post-radiophonic.” It involves a software that records each performer and permits Delbecq to immediately playback fragments of an individual statement, or of the entire ensemble. The feedback is often quieter, rather in the background, and processed with subtle effects that can give it a bent translucence, like a playful phantasm. During the recording, each musician hears and spontaneously responds to periodic intervals of feedback that Delbecq initiates. The video “album teaser” gives a good sense for how this shapes the musical interplay.

To my ears, one of the finest tracks is “Gentle Ghosts.” Delbecq’s undulating piano work is pensive, gorgeous, as he duets with slightly refracted apparitions of his playing (i.e., post-radiophonic). Turner’s sax brings a warm and slightly bluesy glow, and a current of nostalgia swirls in the mix that is persistently unsettled by rhythms that stumble gracefully and chords that fray at the edges. Hébert culls just a few choice notes that hang in the air, and Cleaver’s rustling brushwork casts a deep hush.

In the film about the making of The Weight of Light, Delbecq offers insight about his music: “The ‘let me show you my emotion in art’ aspect is not so interesting for me in music. I’m interested in others doing that, in peers doing that. But that’s not my method. I prefer to conceive states that may be luminous, showing a music that has a certain type of illumination, into which one will be able to dive—and I leave the choice of emotion to the listener.” Indeed, Delbecq’s style on the piano can be clinical, or playful, or impressionistic, but it rarely feels like it nudges the listener in a particular emotional direction. To my ear, Turner shares some of these qualities, but when paired with Delbecq’s piano, his tone reveals bits of emotional valence, occasionally wistful. Indeed, Delbecq’s playing, which can be beautifully spare, on this recording is injected with a good deal more energy and fullness, courtesy of the measured drive and dynamism brought by drums, bass, and sax.

Three of this album’s compositions also appear on The Weight of Light, and it's interesting to compare versions. In the case of “Anamorphoses,” the theme is charming, almost Monk-ian, but the spare and even monastic feel of the solo version has become a jaunty swinger in the hands of the quartet. With “Chemin sur le Crest,” the solo version offers the slightly tense theme with a completely decentered sense of rhythm, while the quartet version gives the tune’s pace a pliable yet firm drive, even while the sax and piano explore the theme with a contrasting oblique rhythm. This tune has some colorful “post-radiophonic” shading that sometimes blends indistinguishably with its original utterances just moments earlier, like the edges of a mirage slowly revealing what’s actually there.

All the songs on this album hang together well, similarly inhabiting the unique sound of this ensemble—curiously sweet, playfully elusive, with an understated serenity that invites introspection. What do you think?

Saturday, September 11, 2021

Jeff Cosgrove - History Gets Ahead of Itself (s/r, 2021) ****

I have something of a history when it comes to reviewing drummer Jeff Cosgrove recordings. Back when I was blogging by my lonely self, he sent me a copy of Motian Sickness: for the love of Sarah. You can follow that link to my review. I will be so bold as to quote a bit here.

“The sound is string-heavy and, as you might expect, it is dominated by Maneri's viola and Masefield's mandolin in that order. This is dense, moody, and moving music. The real tribute to Motian here, and it is genuine and worthy of that master, is the marvelous dialogue between the musicians. This is what a Renaissance painting would be if four masters were stroking at the same time, each paying close attention to the other three.”

That was 2012. Two years later I reviewed Alternating Current, a trio with Matthew Shipp on piano and William Parker on bass.

If you pick up those two and History gets ahead of itself, you are not going to suffer from ennui this week, my friend.

History, one of the many intriguing words in the title, places this closer to the Motian album. It is an interpretation of compositions by William Parker. Now, I have a fan crush on Parker, so be advised. I think he is one of the great composers. I can scarcely imagine how difficult it was to select the final cut for this album. I won’t try to second guess Cosgrove on this one.

This is another trio, with Cosgrove on drums, Jeff Lederer on soprano saxophone, clarinet, and flute, and (drum roll, please, Jeff…) John Medeski on organ. Organ? Okay. I say: good idea.

It wasn’t hard to guess which Parker composition would be on the recording. 'O’neal’s Porch' is probably Parker’s most recognizable composition. It is rich color veins against a bluesy background; dramatic, without the least bit of compromise. I really like it. Cosgrove’s trio plays it mostly straight from the original recording, but only mostly. There is some avant-garde updraft, early on. It returns quickly to the substance. You won’t want to get distracted when Lederer and Medeski converse. The organ paints with a sponge brush, while we get deft strokes from the horn,

Cornmeal Dance loses something by abstracting from the vocals on Parker’s album. 'Gospel Flowers' is the gospel truth, in so far as jazz is truth. 'With Little Birds', the flute tells a whole’nuther story, as we say back in Arkansas.

Moon is a delicious bowl of flavor. 'Things Fall Apart', a rather timely title as I write this, is much more pensive than the previous offerings. I think here, Cosgrove’s percussion presents its most compelling genius.

This is very fine jazz. Get it, and you will be hunting for more Jeff Cosgrove.

Friday, September 10, 2021

Jaimie Branch - Fly Or Die Live (International Anthem, 2021) *****

By Martin Schray

When someone does something unusual, critics immediately try to pigeonhole it and hardly anywhere are unfamiliar sounds so quickly and crudely labeled as in jazz, a genre which is actually based on improvisation and freedom. Jaimie Branch’s band Fly Or Die has been one of the most talked-about projects in recent years and very quickly the media called their music punk-jazz. That’s okay for Branch, in an interview with the German weekly “ZEIT“ she said that she used to be a punk rocker and that she appreciated the love in this kind of music. However, some people envied her immediate success. After her first appearance in Germany, at Jazzfest Berlin, she entered the stage in a tracksuit in November 2018, only to thoroughly rouse the more contemplative part of the audience with her trumpet. Thereupon, some critics - all male, by the way - nagged about her scruffy, sloppy tone. It didn’t occur to them that this might be intentional.

Her latest album Fly Or Die Live breathes this exact Berlin gig spirit. It’s a concert recording, one-and-a-half hours, from the Moods jazz club in Zurich, recorded on January 23, 2020, shortly before the music world shut down due to Covid. When she hit the stage like a rapper, she nervously rearranged her base cap, announced that the band was going to play just one 90-minute set instead of two shorter ones, and encouraged the audience to yell, shout, applaud or get drinks because they were "not one of those quiet bands." The Fly Or Die band of the Zurich evening are Branch (trumpet, vocals, vibraslap), Lester St. Louis (cello, vocals, tiny cymbal), Jason Ajemian (bass, vocals, egg-shakers) and Chad Taylor (drums, vocals, mbira).

Fly or Die Live is like a summary of the band’s two studio albums, dipped into the intensity of a live show. At the beginning, the musicians takes their time. Chad Taylor plays a long intro on the mbira, the sub-Saharan thumb piano that originally was used to help connect with ancestors during ceremonies. It’s like the evocation of a paradisiacal state from which one has been expelled. The sound is bouncy and soft, multi-layered; it opens the ears. It takes three minutes for the trumpet to appear. Branch’s sounds is warm and full. She plays brightly and fast, the restrained reverberation almost reminds me of Miles and Chet Baker. Yes, she can play like this as well, but she also has her signature sound. And this becomes clear in the next piece, when the whole thing tips over. “Prayer for Amerikkka Parts 1&2“ certainly is Branch's most important piece, an angry blues in which she screams out all her anger, as on the studio version, sometimes her voice even flipped that night. The trumpet riffs here range from heart-felt blues melodies to improvisations over Phrygian chords, bridging the gap to Mexican mariachis. And, of course, this is a musical commentary on the situation in the U.S.A. under Donald Trump. How could you play that with a clinically pure, nice and beautiful trumpet sound? This has to be dirty, and that’s the Jaimie Branch style. Then again, to bring her playing to the one point is difficult. Sometimes it’s wide-meshed, sometimes snappy, her compositions sound always up-to-date. “To have a good sound, you always have to sound good,“ she says in the ZEIT interview. "I spent a lot of time playing long tones, and I still do. I love resonance and fullness. But there can't be 2500 John Coltranes. To me, that sounds hollow. If someone plays like Albert Ayler, it doesn't mean they sound like Albert Ayler." That's why it has been important to her to find her own voice, to formulate her vocabulary - and she’s definitely done that. Moreover, she benefits from her band, which colors her sketches. They provide an elastic-drifting rhythm carpet on which Branch’s melodies can fly, whether it’s on more contemplative pieces like “Waltzer“ or tightly knit numbers like “Leaves of Glass“.

The set closes with three longer pieces around the seven-minute-mark. Here they simply rock the house and once again keep the promise from the beginning that they are not a quiet band. The audience even sings along at the end in "Love Song" - all that feels very natural, it’s not embarrassing at all. And for a last time Branch’s trumpet is delightfully unclean, she enjoys being very slightly off-key.

Coming back to labels: Her approach might be a bit punk-like, but it also draws a lot of hiphop’s energy. But why categorizing her? She’s just a great musician. One of jazz’s rising stars, that’s for sure.

Fly Or Die Live is available on vinyl (it’ll be released soon), as a CD and a download. You can listen to the album and buy it here: https://intlanthem.bandcamp.com/album/fly-or-die-live

Thursday, September 9, 2021

Jemeel Moondoc (1946 - 2021)

 Photo by Michael Wilderman, 2019

The passing of free jazz altoist and band leader Jemeel Moondoc was announced today by Arts for Arts on Twitter. 

Born in August 1946, Jemeel Moondoc will be remembered for his role in the New York jazz loft scene in the seventies, for his singular vision and devotion to jazz. 

Originally from Chicago, he first moved to Boston, then to New York, first performing in R&B and blues bands, picking up courses from different colleges including the New England Conservatory and from Cecil Taylor at Antioch College in Yellow Springs, Ohio. That period was influential in the sense that Taylor's course also "emphasized the impact of African musical, linguistic, and cultural origins; the African American experience as enslaved peoples in the United States; and Black Christian churches as spaces of resistance before and after the Civil War." (Cisco Bradley, Universal Tonality, 2020)

At NEC, Moondoc created his first ensemble as a leader, Muntu, then a 12-piece band. He then moved to New York where the loft scene was just starting, and where he met William Parker and Rashid Bakr, and together they formed the nucleus of the new band, first with Arthur Williams on trumpet, later with the late Roy Campbell Jr, rehearsing a lot and refining their music. Their first album came out in 1977 and has been re-issued by NoBusiness together with the albums the followed in the Muntu box. This comes highly recommended, not only for its historical value but also because of the quality of the music. 

Moondoc describes the concept in the accompanying booklet: "Muntu is about the transition and survival of an old world culture connected to me by birth. Muntu is about me traveling back centuries into an ancient world known to me only through my ancestors. This connection is spiritual, and embraces the living and the dead. When performing music, the execution of contacting ancestors requires a religious belief. This process can be an outer body experience causing one to be possessed, but can also bring into the room the spirits of ancestors known and unknown. The intent of the performance is not to merely entertain, but to uplift, and awaken the listener’s spiritual powers."(Jemeel Moondoc, “Muntu: The Essay”)

Muntu disbanded after William Parker and Rashid Bakr joined Cecil Taylor's ensemble, and even if that was tough for Moondoc, he continued to perform with Parker in various ensembles, including Parker's own bands, and they released the "New World Pygmies" album as a duo and its follow-up as a trio with Hamid Drake (see video below). 

Afterwards, Moondoc created his own bands, usually a trio, but he released albums with quartets, quintets, tentets and his 'Jemeel Moondoc All-Stars.' 

In his last years, he was member of Steve Swell's 'Fire Into Music' quintet. 

One of his signature compositions was 'Judy's Bounce', which we find back on several albums: on Judy's Bounce (1982), on Quartet Muntu – The Athens Concert (1982) and on We Don't (2003), a duo with drummer Denis Charles. 

Over the last years, he still continued to release new albums, which were always a treat for fans. The last review we wrote about his work, Astral Revelations (2018), also contains his discography. In my personal opinion, his most recommended albums - in my personal opinion - next to the Muntu box two other Muntu releases: The Intrepid - Live In Poland (1981) and The Athens Concert together with Revolt Of The Lawn Jockeys (2000), The Zookeeper's House (2014) and New World Pygmies, Vol. 2 (2002). 

In sum, Moondoc was a significant figure in the development of free jazz, someone with his own vision on music, and with a clear perspective on what his sound could be in this context. 

Even if I never met him personally, he and his bands have offered me hours and hours of musical joy.

Our thoughts are with his family and friends.

- Stef Gijssels

***

We are also happy to share an interview with Jemeel Moondoc by our colleagues from Burning Ambulance. 

The video below is from the Vision Festival in 2018 with William Parker and Hamid Drake. 

Ronald Shannon Jackson and the Decoding Society - Live at the North Sea Jazz Festival 1983 (The Decoding Society, 2021) ****½

 By Lee Rice Epstein

One of the pros, and cons, of digital releases is how quickly some recently discovered sessions, outtakes, or bootlegs can be converted for a proper release. Requisite caveats aside (fidelity, length, detailed credits, and so on), it would be extremely difficult to turn down a gift like the continuing reissue and live recordings project The Decoding Society, dedicated to the music of Ronald Shannon Jackson.

The latest release, an hour-long set from the 1983 North Sea Festival features Jackson’s Decoding Society right in the pocket of its, no pun intended, prime time. Jackson was on an epic run, beginning with Eye On You, Street Priest, and Nasty, his group at the time had just released Mandance and was touring for the legendary Barbeque Dog. Although the credits list a different lineup, it’s actually the same from that album and tour: Jackson on drums and flute, Henry Scott on trumpet, Zane Massey on saxophones, Vernon Reid on guitar and banjo, and Melvin Gibbs and Reverend Bruce Johnson on electric basses. As with his mentors Cecil Taylor and Ornette Coleman, Jackson directs each bass player to fill a different, specific role. And there are jaw-dropping moments, from Masset and Scott’s fiery, synchronized melodic runs, to the opening riffs of “Mother’s Day,” where Johnson and Gibbs play mightily off Jackson, always a metaphorically eight-limbed player.

Many highlights abound, including a high-octane “Iola” leading to “Mystery At Dawn,” where Jackson switches to flute for the melody, and Reid swaps guitar for banjo. There’s a searching quality to the playing, less contemplative more like a beacon lighting a path. The music is meditatively transcendent, like most of Jackson’s playing: the rhythm and melody achieve a kind of harmonic equilibrium, underlining the application of harmolodics as a framework, more than merely one man’s methodology. 

Writing in The Washington Post in 1983, Geoffrey Himes remarked, “There has always been an underlying order in the seeming anarchy of Ornette Coleman's melodic jazz. That order, though, has rarely been as evident or as compelling as it was in the show by Ronald Shannon Jackson & the Decoding Society at the 9:30 club Saturday night.” This was in January, and the sextet grew remarkably stronger over the course of that year’s shows. Closing on a lengthy version of “Alice In the Congo,” the opening track off Mandance, the sextet does not hold back. Gibbs, Johnson, and Reid perform an incredible tripartite improvisation, with Jackson smashing cymbals and rolling through epic drum fills. 

There is free jazz, and then there is the kind of jazz that demonstrates freeness. Decoding Society always seemed to deliver on the latter. Jackson was a brilliant writer of funky, addictive, and multi-threaded compositions, and the promise of more tapes like these is a wonderful gift.

Listen and download from Bandcamp. 

Also available, a subscription to The Decoding Society 


Wednesday, September 8, 2021

John Blum and Jackson Krall - Duplexity (Relative Pitch, 2020) ****


By Paul Acquaro

When I first put on the drum and piano duo of John Blum and Jackson Krall, I felt a familiar sensation. It was that same, immediate and visceral reaction that I felt the day I stuck Cecil Taylor's Conquistador into my car's CD player, driving away from Jack's Music Shoppe in Red Bank, NJ, where I had just bought a used copy of it, oh so many years ago. It was a shot of adrenalin mixed with the warm satisfaction of developing an (instantly) acquired taste. Weird, but not unattractive, unusual and pulsating music delivered with force and a sixth sense of what fits where.

Blum's bona fides are bountiful: he's played with a international roster of the avant-garde elite and studied with the likes of Taylor, Borah Bergman, Milford Graves, and Bill Dixon, so making this comparison actually does not seem so outlandish. His partner here, Jackson Krall, also has a connection with Taylor, as he played with him in the pianist's later career, and brings sensitivity and intensity to this duo date.

The two tracks that make up Duplexity are plentiful in intuitive choices and decisiveness. One never feels like there is a lull in ideas or a browse through aisles of inspiration, 'Blood and Bone' starts things off fast with a crash of chords and high-energy snare roll. After this, the speed and certainty at which the duo goes at it is certainly the result of the thirty of years of experience they have playing live together. Krall plays with the density of his drum work, sometimes busier than others, but always adding something. The second track 'Wind and Wing' may even be more intense than the first. Here, after a crisp explosion of arpeggios from Blum, Krall ups the intensity with a shower of percussive sparks. The ensuing track then actually seems to feel a bit lighter, but it never looses its drive. 

The two's approach, a duality of interlocking complexity, converges effortlessly in the uniquely captivating Duplexity. 

Tuesday, September 7, 2021

Dave Dove and the Nameless Sound project

By Keith Prosk

I interview Dave Dove, the director of Houston, Texas’ Nameless Sound performance series, which is celebrating its 20th anniversary in 2021 by diving into archives of previously unreleased sound, video, and stories from musicians and related people with deep connections to the series in a project named 20 Years Of Sound . At the time of the interview, these thorough profiles feature Joe McPhee , Maggie Nicols , Alvin Fielder , and Pauline Oliveros and a module on the dialogue between The Aural And The Visual has since been published. Over video chat, we talk about the history of Nameless Sound, the logistics of the project, its future directions, the improvising scene in Houston, and how Nameless Sound is not just a presenter but a cultivator of community through listening and sounding.

Dave Dove is a practicing trombonist and has released a couple of things this year, including A EYES ALWAYS ON YOU with trumpeter and vocalist Jawaad Taylor and The Very Cup of Trembling with Alvin Fielder, saxophonist Jason Jackson, and contrabassist Damon Smith. As becomes clear in the conversation, each of these collaborators have deep connections to Nameless Sound.

Keith Prosk: Hey, how’re you?

Dave Dove: Hey, Keith, how’re you doing? Nice to see you in the flesh.

KP: Yeah, same. How’s your day going so far?

DD: It’s going fine. Lot going on.

KP: Are y’all getting a lot of rain that way lately?

DD: Uh, yes, always this time of year. You’re in Austin, right?

KP: Yeah, and I feel like we usually have a wet month in May and then it super dries out and everything dies again around this time, so it’s been nice to have a little rain our way and keep temperatures a little cooler than they usually are.

DD: Where are you from?

KP: San Antonio.

DD: Oh, you're from San Antonio, so you know the region and all that. I mean this time of year in Houston we’re always waiting for the big hurricane

KP: Yes. Are you or MECA or Nameless ever affected by the flooding that comes with the hurricanes?

DD: I have never been flooded. MECA has definitely… that building has suffered a lot of damage, from Harvey particularly. Damage to the roof, actually. And maybe some flooding... They have a basement, which is very unusual in Houston, so probably some flooding in their basement, I’m not sure.

KP: Man. Well, thanks so much for chatting with me a bit about the 20 Years Of Sound project that you’ve got going on.

DD: Yeah. Thank you.

KP: Of course. I guess, just to get us started - I know you go over some of this in the different profiles and modules - but if you kind of wanna give a brief intro to what Nameless Sound is and maybe how you got started and some watershed moments along the way.

DD: Mmm, OK. Well feel free to direct me cause I might be a little bit redundant with what’s already in the project there. But Nameless Sound is an organization that works with experimental music, improvised music, collaborative music, both as a presenter of local, national, and international artists but also as an organization that has a very thorough and active workshop program. We bring artists from all over the world to perform in Houston in different spaces. We’ve never had our own space, so we’re always moving around, collaborating, partnering, setting things in different locations, curating things to space, responding to spaces. But also we... you know everything that we do is done with partners, so our workshop program is done the same way. We’re going into different spaces and doing workshops with different, well, embedding in different communities, and cultivating communities in different spaces. So that program started a single workshop at MECA, before there was a Nameless Sound in 1997. And then Nameless Sound formed originally as a branch of the Pauline Oliveros Foundation in 2001 and in 2006 we broke off and formed Nameless Sound. By that point we had started to do these workshops not just at MECA - and the workshop at MECA is an open workshop that anyone can go to - but we started receiving invitations to go into different spaces like homeless shelters, after school programs for refugee youth. We had already been doing a lot of in-school work. And then the artists that we bring in will often do work in those communities as well. Sometimes they’ll do one or two workshops but sometimes they’ll do something more extensive like a week or two residency. We have a staff of facilitators who are practicing improvising artists. And through 20+ years of practice, a pedagogy has developed, and that pedagogy outlines that what we are doing is responsive and collaborative work. And, as practicing improvisers, we are in a special position with our practice to be able to immediately respond to the environments we’re in, to ideally work in the most collaborative way with the youth that we work with, to go in without fixed goals, without curriculum, but with our sense of possibility. And to work from our own musical practice in those spaces too. There’s a lot of detail about all of that stuff that I could go into further so if there’s anything you want to zero in on we can…

KP: No, yeah, that’s great. I was kind of aware of the youth opportunities that y’all had, not so much the adult opportunities, but it’s been very clear to me - cause we’ve got PG in Austin kind of close to your practice as well - that you’re not just concert presenters. You are more community cultivators. And pretty much everyone you bring in usually works with the kids and does these workshops. And of the four profiles so far on 20 Years Of Sound, that’s what stuck out to me. That they’re not just there in the capacity of musicians in this context, but they’re all teachers and mentors as well, from Alvin Fielder taking on some of the young percussionists as mentees to Joe McPhee considering them like his kids, and then Maggie and Pauline’s more overt efforts towards cultivating spaces for learning around sound. I know that’s a conscious mission with the program, has that been a conscious perspective that you’ve wanted to show people with these profiles?

DD: Definitely wanted to show people that with the profiles. We’re moving away from… what you’ve seen so far are these editions centered on specific artists and at this point we’re going to have editions more focused on particular themes rather than specific artists, so there will be one just about that, actually. That will just be featuring different work that we do with youth and even sharing our pedagogical work behind that. We’ve developed a whole pedagogy from the practice, right. Much like an artist develops an approach from practice, we develop a pedagogy from our practices - it’s a practice-based research, right. So we will share essays of the pedagogical statement, information about how we assess this work, probably we’ll share information about work that we’ve done with a psychotherapist in being responsive to trauma, which is very specific to a lot of the sites that we work in. So hopefully you’ll even get to see that in more detail. For us, this is not an outreach program. This program, these workshops, predates being a concert presenter. So for a lot of non-profit organizations, a presenter, you sort of do what you do on stage and then you have what’s called an outreach program. For us, it’s kind of the opposite. I Mean I wouldn’t want to put one in front of the other in terms of what we do, our identity, our activity. Because they’re both very active and oftentimes they don't overlap. We do have artists that perform and don’t work in those workshops, and we do have kids that we work with who never meet those artists also. Though they do overlap strongly. And this is to say that in Houston, Nameless Sound reaches a lot of different people for different reasons and in different ways, and that even the people we reach don’t know everything else that we do. I would like them to, but they don’t. It’s just too much, or it doesn’t happen that way. We started… you know, I didn’t have any plan to start a non-profit organization. I had an idea about doing improvisation workshops with kids. And my background is I’m a musician, I’m an artist. And back in the late 90s I had this idea like, ‘Oh I’d really like to work with kids doing music improvisation’ because i felt that music education was very conservative and that growing up I’d never really had an opportunity in my formal education to do something creative. You know in the school band, even in the jazz band we didn’t really improvise. We weren’t composing music. We weren’t experimenting on our instruments. It was sort of through my other musical life, punk rock, that I learned like you go ahead and you don’t wait to make your own music. Someone doesn’t have to tell you that you’re ready. You can start writing your own songs and putting on your own shows. I really feel that when I was 11, 12 years old, when I first started getting into music, I had this formal education and I had this other thing, and it was really important that I had this other thing. And though that’s not the kind of music I do anymore, that thread definitely runs into this period of time where it’s like I really wanna work with kids and give them an opportunity to do something creative. And me, my practice is improvisation so that became the way by which to do that, but I also felt that improvisation was the way that you could immediately start being creative, without waiting for anything to happen. And that it was also a way of working that did not require a common musical background, a traditional idiom, or language. So if I were to compose for an orchestra, I would need people who know how to read music. If I were to work with a jazz ensemble, I would need to know people who could play the chord changes. In improvisation you can have the punk rock kid next to the conservatory kid next to the mariachi kid next to the kid who’s programming on the computer and right away you can start doing something creative with them. So I identified improvisation not only as my own practice but as this thing that could immediately get the wheels turning and get kids working creatively. Like many things in my life - and this is before there was a Pauline Oliveros Foundation or Nameless Sound - Pauline was an important connector in this. She was a mentor who I knew originally through her mother, who was a piano teacher living in Houston, and one day Pauline was in town visiting and she said, ‘Oh i have a workshop I’m giving at this art school called MECA I was invited to give,’ and she invited me and a friend to come along. We went with Pauline to do the workshop and I thought, ‘Oh maybe these guys will let me do this improv workshop. They’re having Pauline in here, so maybe they’ll let me come in and do something regularly...’

Listen to Pauline Oliveros at MECA here.

KP: ...and this was a Deep Listening workshop?

DD: It was not… I mean, in a way everything Pauline does is a Deep Listening workshop because I think she would identify Deep Listening as something that all of her work is connected to. So, yes, but it wasn’t really a Deep Listening workshop from my memory, it was more of an improv workshop. I don’t remember it… this was a long time ago and I’ve been in many Pauline workshops since… but I don’t remember it being a capital Deep Listening workshop in the ways that many have been into it, I remember it as more of a playing thing from my memory. And what was important for me about that day is that it introduced me to that building and I met the director, Alice Valdez, and she was open to me coming and working regularly with those kids. At that same time, I had joined an artist-advisory board at DiverseWorks which is a local art space here and they gave me some opportunities to bring some musicians to town. The first one was Joe McPhee and Arthur Doyle, which is told in that story there, and then I thought, ‘OK well I’m gonna bring Joe to do a concert and I’m gonna also bring him to work with these kids I’m working with.’ This became the seed of Nameless Sound. Which is I had this opportunity to present a concert. I was already working with these kids. And I thought, ‘Why don’t we just mix it all together,’ you know. And I’ve often said it’s great… it was really Joe who gave that workshop, and it’s great that… and I didn’t know Joe at the time other than his music and it’s great that he was such a wonderful, generous, sweet guy, because there are a lot of people who I could have invited to do that might not have been so cool. And I often think that if it had gone a different way I may never have done it again. So there was a couple of years of doing projects like that and then at one point Pauline said, ‘Hey, why don’t you start an organization and you can be umbrellaed under us.’ She kinda poked me about that for a year or two before I did it. You know, we’re both a presenting organization and a community organization, but we were an organization that worked with kids first. I think it’s important to say that. And I don’t see the organization as two halves. I just see it as different sides by which to do this work. It’s like people gather, they have a listening experience, they participate in that experience, we’re cultivating a space, I’m simplifying but the same thing… I have the same priorities, generally speaking, that I do for sitting with a group of kids and playing. Which is making a space where everyone feels comfortable. Where you can have this experience. Where the experience doesn't have to be defined for you, it can be your experience, where you can learn from that, you can heal from that, you can be creative in that space. And it’s important to say that one of our most recent projects - recent meaning the last three years or so - and there will be a future edition about this - is a series called They, Who Sound , and They, Who Sound is our weekly concert series. So in the past our presenting was more like 8 or 10 concerts a year of international artists. But we’ve added a weekly concert series, which is a little less formal, it often has visiting artists but it always has local, original artists on it, so the basis of that is local and regional artists.

KP: Just to give people a sense of the community in Houston, I know the readers of this blog will be familiar with like Damon Smith , Sandy Ewen , and Susan Alcorn . I was surprised to see in these profiles people like Maria Chavez , Bryan Eubanks , and Ben Roidl-Ward . I know Jawaad Taylor . But are there some other people that you want to shout out that are pillars of this weekly or the local community?

DD: Well some of these people you’re talking about, they’re all very associated with Houston - maybe Bryan a little less so, I mean he’s been here a lot and done great things here - but all of the other people you’ve mentioned have lived in Houston and several of them don’t live here anymore, unfortunately for me. But Maria, Sandy, Jawaad, those three came out of our youth program. So I met Sandy when she was a teenager. She was in the record store and she was buying Captain Beefheart and Sun Ra records on vinyl and I was putting up a poster for a Sam Rivers concert and I was like, ‘Oh, do you like that?’ And she was like, ‘Yeah I read about this, it seems like it might be cool, and I said, ‘Well if you like that you might like this - you should go to this concert.’ And then she came to the concert, which was at MECA. And I said, ‘Oh I met you at the record store’ and then I said, ‘I bet you play an instrument.’ And she said, ‘Yeah I play guitar’ and I said, ‘Well you should come to this workshop that we have here.’ This is when Sandy was still playing like this [makes traditional strum movement] and I remember the day that she laid her guitar flat very clearly. Similarly Maria, though she came to us a little older, in her early 20s, she started her practice as an improviser and a sound artist with us. When I met her she was a DJ. And Maria came to one of our concerts and she was doing a music business degree and she said, ‘I need to do an internship’ and I said alright - we had only been around for a year or so, I didn't have any apparatus to take on an intern - but I was like, ‘You’re gonna volunteer, right?’ And she said yeah and I said great. She sent me her resume and her CV all this, I didn’t even look at it. We had a meeting and she was really upset that I didn’t study her resume and I said, ‘Well you just seem like a cool person and you want to help so that just seemed like enough.’ And then I invited Maria… I said, ‘Well if you’re gonna help me out then you should come to my workshop.’ And she said, ‘I don’t play an instrument.’ And I said, ‘You’re a DJ right.’ And she said yeah. And I said, ‘Well, bring your turntable.’ And she brought her turntable and I remember the moment she played - and she tells this story in the edition i think - she often says, ‘The moment I did that improvisation I realized that I’m not going to DJ anymore, I’m going to do this.’ And there are others too. Jawaad was not a teen when he came to us but he was maybe in his early 20s. When Jawaad came to us he was… I might be misrepresenting this but this is my understanding. He came to us as… you know Jawaad grew up as like a rapper, who would like sneak out of his house as a kid and go to rap battles and stuff. This is the story he always told me. I might’ve been at some of those things, you know, who knows. I mean, I know some of the clubs he was going to and I was going there too. Of course he was a kid and I’m older than him. I met him at one of our concerts and I don’t know how I got to talking to him but he told me that he played trumpet and I said, ‘You should come to my workshop.’ And he came to the workshop, playing his trumpet, and I learned, ‘Oh you’re also a rapper, you know you can do that also here.’ So I think the way Jawaad tells it - and he can confirm that or elaborate or deny it - I really think through the improv workshop that’s where he started bringing these two practices together. I think they were sort of separate practices for him. And I think Jawaad is someone really special in that he really has integrated rapping and beats and programming into a really flexible improvisational language almost like no one else I’ve heard I think. Where one doesn’t have to accommodate the other, they’re very flexible, they’re very responsive languages in the way he does that. Some others ones who came up, maybe you’ve heard Jason Jackson , he’s on our staff now. He’s a fantastic saxophone player, he plays in The Young Mothers . Jason was a teenage student of mine and now he runs the education program. There’s a bunch of them. There’s a whole lot of them out there. Who started as young kids in the Nameless Sound workshop and are now… some of them are active experimental musicians, some of them are active in other kinds of music, some of them are artists otherwise. Other people in the Houston music scene that have been... not students but who you may have heard of that are connected to Nameless Sound, well, Tom Carter and Christina Carter , Charalambides . They’re very old friends of mine. Christina’s been a friend since we were teenagers actually, so I go way back with them. Oh Susan Alcorn. When I first started getting into this kind of music in Houston in the 90s Susan was living here and she was like the light for me in a way. I was like, ‘Oh here’s someone else that’s into this’ and she’s doing it at a very high level. So Susan has been a very important inspiration since before Nameless Sound, just being around that level of artistry, commitment, and individuality and talent, that’s just really big. A lot of great music in Houston. We could take that conversation in any direction. And it’s always changing. It’s a city where people are coming and going, it’s a big city. I still find people… I mean we’ve been in a pandemic so we’re getting ready to start concerts again. I think it’s going to be… I think we’ll be learning to see where the scene is now. But people are always moving into this town. You mentioned Damon Smith, he was here for several years and he certainly brought a lot of energy to the city when he was here. And yeah, so a lot of good people here.

KP: Yeah, just to go back to Maria, I think that story in Pauline’s profile really spoke to Nameless Sound, where - I guess Pauline was a little more active in helping out with Nameless Sound or your activities more than visiting musicians - but not just having these people hang out with the kids or present their music to the kids but actually helping them cultivate their practice and providing safe spaces to experiment.

DD: You know one thing I realized, I learned as time went on. And I learned from some of our people leaving Houston, and it’s a little hard for me to see in the center of it. Is not only is it important that like Maria had an experience with Pauline or Sandy when she was a teenager had workshops with Keith Rowe or Jason when he was a teenager he basically had workshops with every great creative saxophone player. Like Steve Lacy, Evan Parker, John Butcher, Marshall Allen, Joe McPhee, Kidd Jordan, Bhob Rainey, Sam Rivers, he kind of experienced the whole gamut. He experienced a pretty thorough runthrough of who were really great creative improv free jazz experimental saxophone players. I think in hindsight what we see is that - and what none of us really saw at the time (I mean these things are still happening) - and I think maria, her story speaks to that - though she maybe doesn’t directly say it - was that it was a very casual encounter too. So much so that these kids, only later sometimes did they realize who it was that they were hanging out with when they were 19 years old. I think Maria kind of speaks to that. I don’t think she quite knew who was in the room with her and who was encouraging her and then later you kind of realize… and I don’t think it would happen it like that... I mean Houston is a big city, and I wonder if it would happen like that in another big city.

KP: I don’t know, I feel like Houston, like San Antonio, has the reputation of being more on the chill side.

DD: It’s a pretty chill scene. I think it’s hard for me, from my position, it’s hard for me to assess that but I was talking to a couple of other people about this recently, there’s a pretty serious scene here, but it’s not very competitive. There’s not much to compete for, actually. There’s probably a downside to that. Well, you know, maybe I shouldn’t embrace such a capitalist framework about the value of competition on quality but I think… there’s something to that but there’s just as much to the opposite because people work together here. And I think they work together even across… they often work together across the supposed subgenre lines of this music in a way that they might be less likely to do so in more competitive music scenes. In music scenes where people have moved to that city to be in that art scene or to be in that music scene. But there’s some brilliant people here, there’s some really brilliant people here, and I think that’s a really healthy thing about it. I think there’s not really like a dominant genre in improvised music here. It’s not like a free jazz scene or an electroacoustic scene or whatever. There have been really strong noise scenes in Houston, distinct from what we’re doing, but they also have a healthy overlap with the improvised scene. As an artist I’ve found it to be a really stimulating and healthy environment. And the audience listens really well here. That’s something I’ve learned over the years. Artists who are on tour come here and they’re like, ‘Wow the audience really listens here.’ There’s a real quality to the listening, they think the audience really supports in listening.

KP: That’s good. I’ve only been to one Nameless Sound show; I drove in for the Radigue quartet a couple years ago. But my impression was that, at least what I thought were locals, were very in tune and very enthusiastic and attentive to the music and that’s a music that requires a lot of focus and attention as well.

DD: Yeah, that concert would have been a good test for that, wouldn’t it. I think the the crowd stayed for the whole thing, do you remember?

KP: Oh yeah, maybe a person left cause a phone went off but I don’t remember anyone just leaving...

DD: Yeah and that was a pretty intense one. That was not a short concert. Yeah I’m looking forward to getting back to it.

KP: Just roping back to 20 Years Of Sound, you mentioned you’re going to have a little stuff on They, Who Sound and your pedagogy, but anything else you’re willing to share that’s on the horizon?

DD: Sure. What we’re planning - and it could evolve, it could shift between now and when it happens - but there’s an edition that’s coming out in the coming days, at some point, any day now, that is around the theme of the aural and the visual. So dialogs, blurred lines, intersections between the aural and the visual. This is around events that we’ve had that speak to that. It’ll have audio of Keith Rowe and Loren Connors each playing solos in the Rothko Chapel , not included just because it’s the Rothko Chapel but included because of the place that Rothko figures in both of those artists’ work. Rothko really hovers as a heavy influence over both of those guys. It’ll have video and audio of a project called Film Noir by the pianist Ran Blake, where he performs to these film noir clips. It’ll have a video of Phantom Orchard, which is Ikue Mori and Zeena Parkins, performing a concert with live video projections that they use. It’ll have audio of Text of Light, which is Alan Licht, Lee Ranaldo, Ulrich Krieger, and Tim Barnes performing to Stan Brakhage films - without the films, even though the concert had the films. Those are those pieces, and then it has a subfeature on James Magee and The Hill , which is a whole conversation unto itself.

KP: Yeah, the installation…

DD: James Magee is an artist in west Texas who has been building this monumental work out in the middle of the desert, off the grid, with no electricity or anything, since 1980. And we’ve done four concerts there. So it’ll have audio of one of those concerts, of Peter Brötzmann playing there. And it’ll also have audio of a concert of James’ with Bob Ostertag that James… the titles of these pieces are these very long poems that are very musically recited by James. And then it has another subfeature about four of our poster artists over the years, three of them writing about the process of designing the posters - three of them are musicians and they’re writing about the process of designing the posters and how they’re responding to music. I’m pretty sure we’ll have an edition about They, Who Sound, which goes...see They, Who Sound is only three years old as a Nameless Sound project, but it’s like nine or ten years old as an independent project of mine. So They, Who Sound used to be my own kind of weekly concert series that was just sort of designed to put me and my friends on. And it was just very DIY and it wasn’t Nameless Sound. And it really became this thing, it became very important, it became like a meeting point for local musicians, and it became an opportunity for touring people to collaborate with locals and it just became really important. So at some point we took it on as a Nameless Sound series officially, in partnership with Lawndale Art Center . So They, Who Sound will actually reach back in its pre-Nameless Sound history, when it used to be held at a bar called AvantGarden . Then we’ll have one about creative music communities, our work with the kids, including some media of visiting artists working with those kids as well as those kids own projects from teenagers to little kids and maybe some pedagogy about that. Hopefully some essays or some voice, well, we’ll definitely have voice of those participants. And then I’m thinking we’re gonna have an edition on Nameless Sound Ensemble. Nameless Sound Ensemble is basically any local ensemble assembled for a specific project, usually assembled to work with a visiting artist. Can I speak to any of those pieces yet? Might not be able to speak to those pieces because I don’t have approvals yet. I’m trying to think of any of them I have approvals for and off the top of my head I don’t think I’ve worked on that yet. But, you know, so and so comes in and then sets a piece on the local ensemble, that’s the Nameless Sound Ensemble. And then we’ll have a couple of editions that they’ll sort of find themes within them, but they’ll just be kind of like curatorial samplings of different concerts that we’ve done with maybe a looser theme connecting them, or subthemes where we might write about a particular venue as a subfeature in there that we use a lot…

KP: So you mentioned approval and these are super deep profiles, with hours and hours of audio and video and multiple perspective from the participants that it seems like are gathered recently. So what have been some of the challenges of this project, cause I know you’ve had to think on your feet a bit too and readjust scheduling along the way.

DD: Yeah.. The challenges for me are just total… the approvals for me have been very smooth. The thing is, my practice, I’m not like wired towards documentation or putting things out. I’m wired towards making the next event. I’m wired towards what is happening in this space right now, that was great, let’s go on to the next one. That’s been my driving thing my whole life really, so this project really stretches me because it’s very much not that. Part of it came up because of the pandemic, what are we gonna do this year instead of putting on concerts. That this pandemic coincided with our 20th anniversary. And also the reality that we have all this fantastic material. And that I have a few very dedicated videographers and audio engineers who have put a lot of work into it and I think they’re very happy to see it come out. So it’s, you know, it’s been a scramble to get it together and we have a fantastic team but the challenges are just going through that material. One is that you actually have to go through that material, and what you’re seeing is only a slice of what there is, right. I couldn’t possibly even go through all the material we have. And in the case of the video, a lot of it isn’t ready until Don the videographer makes the edit so there’s a lot of coordinating of waiting for an edit to come through, or waiting for an approval copy to come through of audio or video, of getting it to an artist for approval, of maybe me seeing it, of figuring out whether it fits into an edition or a theme. And then my fantastic editor Veronica Salinas, her being able to lay this out and to frame it and to be the editor of those essays and help me shape that. She’s really the one helping me shape this, she’s the one shaping it really. In a way I worry that we’re getting into the most challenging phase of it. (1) because we’re getting back to the work that we do when we’re not in a pandemic, so I’m still doing this this year but I’m also getting back to what i was doing before. And (2) because what we have left is - we have a lot of fantastic stuff left - but now I’m like… the process of waiting for those approval masters, getting them to be approved, us seeing it, Veronica and I working with it, everyone is working their butts off to make all of this happen. It’s just like a chain of tasks and protocols that are quite intricate and that’s not normally the ones that I’m working on. You know, that’s the thing about music, time-based art… I mean I know this from releasing records, it’s like yeah that concert took an hour to play but I’m gonna listen to it like 30 times before it comes out. So you have to actually go through the material in real time many many times. Definitely my video editor has to do that. That’s part of the challenge of it.

KP: Yeah, have you had staff throughout the years recording and filming or are these pulled from the community?

See Maggie Nichols at The Silver Slipper here.

DD: The videos have almost all been pulled from two sources. One is a videographer named Don White, who is really like the head of video on this project. The credits are on them but he did all these multi-camera ones that you see. There’s certain years in our history where he caught a lot of them, and certain years where he caught fewer of them. But he has been with us since not the first day but quite early years. I think Don is thrilled to see these finally coming out because he did a lot of work and they were just sitting around on hard drives, you know. Then another person who videoed a lot of them but in a more casual way was Pete Gershon, who used to work with us. Pete used to be the editor of Signal To Noise magazine and he lives in Houston now and he worked for Nameless Sound. He worked with us for a couple years, and it wasn’t his job but Pete is an archivist and he’s writing several books now about the history of visual art in Houston and other topics, so unlike me he’s a real documenter. So when he was working with us, he would always throw a camera up. And some of those videos, he was also working the door, so he couldn’t man the camera, so he would just find a spot, throw the camera up, and work the door. So some of those videos are more appealing than others I think, just in terms of they’re not professionally done. Some of them are gold. Some of them are like like, ‘Oh this is just a side camera of the stage and it doesn’t quite capture this thing.’ But we’ve used a lot of his. And we have a few videos from a guy names Chris Nelson, who is a board member of ours and is a professional videographer and he’s caught some key ones also, just a few. Like between him and Pete they caught the Roscoe Mitchell, Alvin Fielder duet. I mean, you know, I owe a huge debt of gratitude to all these people cause like I told you I’m sort of the one making the thing happen and I’m just not thinking about documentation. But wow this is one of my most proud concerts, to get those guys together. You know that Alvin is very important to us and to me and to our org and you know Alvin was on the very first recording of AACM music which is Roscoe Mitchell’s Sound and they hadn’t played together for forty years before the concert. So to bring those two together to play duet. Of course we want to capture that and document it. So I owe a huge debt of gratitude to all these guys for doing that. And then some of them, like the little things in the workshop, there’s a few little camera phone things in there. Not of like whole concerts, but of just little moments that we want to include. For example Maggie Nicols singing at the Houston blues club, Silver Slipper . You know, the Silver Slipper is this fantastic blues club that’s been around for sixty years in Houston in the Fifth Ward - well actually it’s technically in a neighborhood called French Town, Kashmere Gardens - and we brought Maggie there and she got up and sang and sat in with the band so I just got my phone out. And there’s like two minutes of that in there which is a fantastic camera phone video. Or there’s a video of - is that in there? I think it is in there. Yeah it is in there - there’s a video of Maggie doing a workshop with these kids at a program called Kijana Youth that we do. And Chris videotaped that workshop though he kind of like, yeah, he was sort of videotaping it more for like little one minute bits that could be used for maybe grant purposes or something but I was like, ‘Chris we have to put all of these together because this workshop is a really important document.’ But there’s also a part of that where I was recording it with my phone and one of the kids said, ‘Hey can I take that’ and I gave my phone to one of the kids and she’s walking around recording it. So there’s other little bits that get in there too. Hopefully they’re the right bits when they’re lofi, hopefully they transcend the medium. I mean another lofi bit that’s in there that I hope transcends the medium is the recording from the very first concert I ever presented, and its of Joe McPhee and Arthur Doyle playing together. The only time they ever played together other than the next night in Austin. And this was long before... well we did not record that concert, but there was someone who comes to our concerts who always records these concerts, I see his little recorder, so we reached out to him and he was like, ‘Yeah I have a cassette of that.’ So I thought that document was important enough to like say yeah this is a noisy cassette but these two guys meeting on that night… I’m amazed at how much is documented, calling around. Or things that I didn’t realize. The recording of Joe and Susan Alcorn playing together. You know like I’m very disorganized around here and part of this process is just digging through old shoeboxes of CD-Rs and looking at them and going, ‘Joe McPhee, Susan Alcorn? did we record that concert?’ I pop it in. ‘Oh, wow, we did record that concert. It’s like a really good recording and it sounds really great.’ So it’s been a trip. It’s been a trip. It’s very good that we’re doing this. And it’s also very good that it looks like we’re handing over our archive to the University of Houston’s special collections, so that Nameless Sound will actually properly and professionally be archived at the University of Houston.

See Alvin Fielder and Roscoe Mitchell at Contemporary Arts Museum Houston here.

KP: That’s very cool

DD: Yes, yes I’m real excited about that. So that way all these CD-Rs sitting in boxes in my house will be protected and backed up and cared for and if someone wants to dig into them for research purposes they’ll be there.

KP: That’s all that I had prepared but did you want to go in any other directions?

DD: Be careful, I could go into any direction you send me in. I just hope people dig into this. I know it’s a lot of material. And I hope that we present it in such a way that the casual viewer can go in and skim through and maybe find the media materials that they want, or that the person who wants to go really deep can go in really deep and read it all. I hope it’s laid out in such a way, Veronica and I are trying to do that, lay it out in such a way so that it’s friendly. Maybe someone is seduced into it by a certain Joe McPhee video or a Pauline Oliveros video and that they learn about the organization because I feel like we’re a real unique organization, I feel like we’re very much of our city - I don’t think we could have happened anywhere else. We’re trying to share fantastic documents of fantastic artists who have shaped the organization through their involvement with it. And as you mentioned put in various voices. Nameless Sound are these artists, they’re the kids, they’re the people in the audience, they’re the volunteers, they’re the staff members. We’re trying to have all of these different voices in there because Nameless Sound means something different to any of them. And what we try to do is be a responsive organization, and I think we’re a really unique organization for that reason. And I hope that people will sort of learn a little bit about Houston by reading that maybe. And learn a little bit about the organization by diving into it.

KP: Yeah, I think that came through super clearly. That this is not just an opportunity to present archives about musicians but really to present a model for cultivating community through sound.

DD: Well if it inspires someone to do that, that’s great. That would be the ultimate, you know. And I believe in sharing information. You know I’m not really into… when we present these concerts and when we do these workshops with these kids, for me the idea is to make a space that anyone can feel like they can be part of and that the work and the community and the space will evolve from anyone who chooses to be in it. And also particularly the work we do with kids and the community work we do - and that work is also with adults as you mentioned, we have workshops that adults can go to - that anyone who is interested in that can draw some information and inspiration and do it in their own way somewhere. I think we have to… I think that this is a kind of musicmaking that’s really powerful because… well, let me put it this way, I feel like most movements in the so called avant garde have like a ten- or generously twenty-year period where they’re really vital. And the thing about collaborative experimentation, not just improvisation but creative collaboration in music, is that I think it’s openness to a diversity of voices is what keeps its edge, its what keeps it evolving, and hopefully keeps it out of its complacency. You know I’m speaking out of an extreme bias, as someone who does this work, but I still hear all kinds of improvised music that to me really excites me and is really interesting - and I hear a lot that bores me too, cause I’ve heard a lot, right - but I still hear lots that really excites me. But the problem of the activity that anyone can do… well… the problem is that it’s not enough just to go like, here’s the space, anyone can do it, anything goes. That if you really want an inclusive, diverse, and equitable space in every sense, you have to cultivate that actually. It’s not enough just to say like, ‘Freedom.’ You have to cultivate that, you have to be conscious of that. And that’s a statement that’s as complicated as can be. But I also feel like the vitality of artistic movements are doomed if we don’t make that effort.

KP: Yeah, I’m super behind that. I think you see that in the safety and support of extended family versus the nuclear family, or cooperative models, or biological ecosystem health, the more diverse voices you have, that offers a certain resiliency, just because you can be adaptable, changing, open. That’s definitely the key to longevity. Which is why it’s important that organizations are cultivating it. But it does take work. It’s not something like you can just say, ‘Hey this is a community now.’

DD: That’s right. And if you go out and work with kids - and the reason I work with kids is not to recruit musicians, in spite of what I just said - the Nameless Sound pedagogy identifies that if you do this work in a secure framework and it’s collaborative, then it has the potential for healing, knowledge exchange, creative work, and play. That being said, as you know, there are musicians that have come into this field through our workshops. And I’m thrilled about that. And my life has benefited greatly from that. Most of my collaborators are these people who I knew when they were kids now. Maria, Jawaad, Sandy, Jason, etc. But the thing is you also have to go into that space trying to let go of your idea of what this music is or should be, and ready for the new voice to be part of that evolution. And that’s a really hard thing. I mean it’s inevitable that a teacher of the arts - and I don’t consider us teachers, but just to put it in that framework - it’s inevitable that a teacher of the arts is going to bring the heavy weight of their own style or aesthetic into the situation. And the thing is to be conscious about that. Just like to be conscious about everything about oneself. Like being conscious of yours biases - you don’t lose your biases, you just gain consciousness of them. You know I think if we want this artform to thrive, we have to listen to what potentially is coming into it. I don’t know if that makes sense.

KP: It does.

DD: Yeah. And you know, the obvious becomes more and more clear to me with time. Pauline was visionary about this stuff. I owe everything to Pauline in this work, but there’s also a certain tendency of mine to distinguish it from Pauline’s work. And Pauline would support that, and she did support that 100%. And of course I am my own person and I have the way that I do this. But Pauline was a real visionary when it came to that. You know In the early 70s, she could have just continued on being a great electronic music composer, all these great works that she did in the 60s, Bye Bye Butterfly, Alien Bog, I of IV, all these fantastic electronic music pieces. And the thing about that kind of work - and I don’t do that kind of work but I love that music - the thing about that kind of work is like... it is where the composer really comes closest to being a studio artist. Meaning they don’t really need a performer, they don’t really even need an audience. They work in their studio, alone, and they make this piece, they make their opus or whatever it is. So much so to the degree that we have this confusion now between experimental music and sound art - ha ha ha, we’ll set that aside, that’s another conversation - but she could have continued to do that stuff and in the early 70s she really embraced working with communities and working with people who did not identify as musicians or have musical backgrounds. Originally it was a group of women. And that was a radical shift, I think, for her. And it was a really important moment in the cultural history of experimental arts and experimental music, because she knew that through listening, the type of listening that she was cultivating, and through sounding, that there was so much more to get from this experience than just to make a great piece of art and have an audience that enjoys that piece of art. That there’s community building, that there’s healing, that there’s research, that there’s consciousness expansion, that there’s play, also. I mean Pauline was fantastic at just play. You see it in her titles and stuff, funny little plays on words, humor is in there also. Obviously Nameless Sound owes everything to Pauline, but I realize that more and more as time goes on that she really, before I was born, she laid a groundwork for this kind of work. And she did it so… to me, there was no pretense and it was so inclusive and so open. I don’t know where I was going with that except just to float around on the future of our communities and none of us know where they’ll go, we have to be open to where they will. Cause the kids are alright, huh?

See Tom Bickley, David Dove, Juan J. Garcia Jimenez, and Lisa E. Harris each sound the cistern here.