Alexander Hawkins: Sunday Interview

Photo by Cristina Marx/Photomusix

1. What is your greatest joy in improvised music?
   
   I would find it virtually impossible to prioritise between them, but some of the many joys would be: the possibilities for invention, for discovery, for surprise, for spontaneity, for communication, for expression, for collaboration, and more generally - for beauty.
   
   
   
2. What quality do you most admire in the musicians you perform with?
   
   Near the top of the list would be a 'sound': understood as a personal tone, a personal language, and a personal way of engaging with others. I prize independence and clarity of thought. I also truly admire a type of fearlessness which I think of as linked to behaving without ego: the type of musician who is brave enough to take chances and push at limits, in the knowledge that there is a risk inherent in this. I say this because a perhaps uncomfortable truth in this music is that a lot of the time when we claim to be improvising, I think we are only really doing so at best in a very minimal sense...routine is as common in improvised music as in any other walk of life. Of course it would be possible to dive into many more specific answers to this question, but I think the answers would generally be contingent upon the specific musical context.
   
   
   
3. Which historical musician/composer do you admire the most?
   
   I can't answer the question on its own terms: there could never be a 'most', as I admire countless people for countless different reasons. But in the spirit of the game, I'll play along and say J.S. Bach. Having begun in western classical music, I understand there are biases at play here...but I find the technical beauty of some of his music overwhelming - I'm thinking here of works such as The Art of Fugue and the Musical Offering. There are of course magical sounds to be heard everywhere, but the longer I spend with music, the more I personally find the real transcendence to be in form and organisation, and not many people have ever created oases of perfection in this sense like Bach did. (A million disclaimers of course apply).
   
   
   
4. If you could resurrect a musician to perform with, who would it be?
   
   To perform with? Too tough. Parker? Dolphy? Coltrane? Or perhaps I'd ask Mary Lou Williams, Duke Ellington, or Monk to write us a pad of music?
   
   
   
5. What would you still like to achieve musically in your life?
   
   Oh we don't even begin to have the column inches here...big picture-wise, I'll say this: if I knew conceptually where I wanted the music to go, a) I would have tried to go there already, and b) in any case, I probably wouldn't be looking hard enough for the new ideas.
   
   I would like to continue to improve my capability to translate the sounds in my head onto my instrument. Similarly, I would also like to continue to improve my ability to capture these sounds in some notational form.
   
   Then we can move on to the very mundane: at some point, I would love just to get around to learning all of the Well-Tempered Clavier, or all of the Vingt Regards. And no-one is more aware than me of the gaping holes in my technical ability: so I'd like to continue trying to plug these.
   
   I would also add this, however: I feel extremely fortunate already to have had so many wonderful musical experiences: so although I am hopelessly restless, I am also extremely grateful.
   
   
   
6. Are you interested in popular music and - if yes - what music/artist do you particularly like?
   
   Oh certainly - and I'm not sure what I'd make of the person who claimed not to have an interest in a particular type of music. Even something which a person isn't into represents an opportunity to learn and to deepen an understanding of musical values, after all. As for what I particularly like, the list would go on for too long, so I'll limit it to some things I've been listening to recently and enjoying: Billy Woods, Jorge Ben, and Gal Costa. Incidentally here, sometimes it feels like barely a flight goes by where I don't listen to either 'Curtis' or 'Curtis/Live!'
   
   
   
7. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
   
   Part of me wants to reiterate that I'm extremely grateful, and part of me wants to ask 'just one???'
   
   
   
8. Which of your albums are you most proud of?
   
   I wouldn't put something out if I wasn't proud of it, although of course it's true to say that personal standards change, and in general I suspect I'm far more self-critical now than I used to be. But again, I'll certainly play the game, but with some sideman appearances instead! Of all the albums I made under Louis Moholo-Moholo's leadership, for instance, I'm most proud of 'Uplift the People'. Live, that quintet could be totally transporting, and I feel that album - a live one - is the record which best captures just a little bit of what the room could be like some nights. I'm also immensely proud of the Quartet (Standards) 2020 box set with Anthony Braxton, for a number of reasons both personal and musical.
   
   
   
9. Once an album of yours is released, do you still listen to it? And how often?
   
   In an earlier interview in this series, Lina Allemano's answer to this question really resonated with me: it's certainly true for me too that in the production phase of a recording, I listen to my recordings so much that they do indeed become somewhat internalised. I rarely, if ever, put on something just for enjoyment: and besides, in general if not exclusively, backwards seems like the wrong way to be facing as a creative musician. That said, I'm perfectly happy to listen to older recordings if perhaps there is a technical detail I am trying to understand in a composition, or if I am looking for a sample, or something like this.
   
   
   
10. Which album (from any musician) have you listened to the most in your life?
    
    I'd love to know the actual answer to this! It would probably naturally be something which dates back a long way in my listening life, before a) having a little more money to spend on recorded music or (especially) b) digital technologies made it so much easier to listen broadly, if often in a more shallow manner. It could well be something like the late Art Tatum trio record with Red Callender and Jo Jones; it could well be some Sonny Rollins - most likely 'Newk's Time' or 'Saxophone Colossus', although possibly 'Plus 4' with Clifford Brown. It could also very well be a classical recording, in which case it would probably be the Riccardo Muti/Philharmonia recording of Respighi Symphonic Poems, the Svetlanov recording of the 'Poem of Ecstasy', or the Frühbeck De Burgos recording of De Falla's 'El Amor Brujo'. If we're talking individual tracks, I'd probably put the money on it being Rex Stewart's 'Menelik - The Lion of Judah'.
    
    
    
11. What are you listening to at the moment?
    
    An old Supraphon album of Janáček songs featuring Eva Zikmundová and Beno Blachut, amongst others.
    
    
    
12. What artist outside music inspires you?
    
    Again, I could go on and on here. But one thing which people may not know about me is that I am absolutely obsessed with the work of Charles M. Schulz. In his economy, he's like Thelonious Monk. Schulz can express in four panels what others may take 400 pages to convey. Anyway, I've read Peanuts complete from 1950-2000, and couldn't touch another book while doing this..! He is a genius.

 

Review with Alexander Hawkins:

• Angelika Niescier - Alexander Hawkins - Soul In Plain Sight (Intakt, 2021) in Out on Intakt
• Anthony Braxton - Quartet (Standards) 2020 (New Braxton House, 2021)
• Marco Colonna & Alexander Hawkins - Dolphy Underlined (Fundacja Sluchaj, 2020)
• Evan Parker Quartet - All Knavery and Collusion (Cadillac Records, 2021)
• Conversation With Alexander Hawkins
• Alexander Hawkins - Togetherness Music (Intakt, 2021)
• Jazzfest Berlin 2020: Day 3 (NYC <--> BLN) Alexander Hawkins & Tomeka Reid - Shards and Constellations (Intakt, 2020)
• Karl Evangelista with Alexander Hawkins, Louis Moholo-Moholo, and Trevor Watts - Apura! (Astral Spirits, 2020)
• Louis Moholo-Moholo’s Five Blokes – Uplift the People (Ogun 2018)
• François Houle / Alexander Hawkins / Harris Eisenstadt - You Have Options (Songlines, 2018)
• Alexander Hawkins - Unit[e] (AHM, 2017)
• Han Bennink, Steve Noble, Alexander Hawkins - 11.8.17 (Otoroku, 2018)
• Konstrukt feat. Alexander Hawkins, Alan Wilkinson & Daniel Spicer ‎–L.O.T.U.S. (Omlott/OTOroku, 2017) in The Middle East is Calling
• Alexander Hawkins & Evan Parker - Leaps In Leicester (Clean Feed, 2016) in Just the Two of Us
• Konstrukt & Alexander Hawkins – 10.08.15 (OTOroku, 2016)
• The Convergence Quartet - Owl Jacket (No Business, 2015)
• Konstrukt and Guests – Islington Mill, Manchester, 12.08.15
• Alexander Hawkins Ensemble: Step Wide, Step Deep (Babel Label, 2013)
• Alexander Hawkins: Song Singular (Babel Label, 2013)
• The Convergence Quartet - Slow And Steady (No Business, 2013)
• Decoy With Joe McPhee – Spontaneous Combustion (OTOroku, 2013)
• Alexander Hawkins - All There, Ever Out (Babel Label, 2012)
• Decoy & Joe McPhee - Oto (Bo Weavil, 2010)

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Alexander Hawkins - Togetherness Music (Intakt, 2021) ****½

By Lee Rice Epstein

Kicking off 2021 with a major work for small orchestra, Riot Ensemble, and Evan Parker, pianist and composer Alexander Hawkins brings this epic new work straight out of a brief reprieve from the 2020 COVID-19 lockdowns. Set aside, for a moment, anything you may have recently read or heard regarding Parker's thoughts on the pandemic, Togetherness Music is a remarkable assembly of many of the UK's best players. Like his previous magnum opus, Unit[e], this latest showcases Hawkins channeling the lessons of Anthony Braxton and Muhal Richard Abrams, and forging his own, clear path forward with a unique lexicon.

In what's quickly becoming a typical Hawkins pattern, the polymathic lineup reflects his multi-perspective view of composition and performance. Sound groupings and melodic patterns intersect with the ensemble as light through a prism, with orchestral instrumentation inclusive of electronics and doubled-voicings. The album features Hawkins on piano, Parker on soprano sax, Percy Pursglove on trumpet, Rachel Musson and James Arben on flutes, Musson on tenor, Arben on bass clarinet, Hannah Marshall on cello, Benedict Taylor on viola, Neil Charles on double bass, Mark Sanders on drums, and Matthew Wright on electronics. In addition, the members of the Riot Ensemble appearing here include Mandhira de Saram and Marie Schreer on violin, Stephen Upshaw on viola, Louise McMonagle on cello, and Marianne Schofield on double bass. The doubling of viola, cello, and double bass across the Hawkins and Riot ensembles provides the recording with a sonic heft that balances out the winds and brass.

Structurally, the album is a mirror twin of itself, opening with a ten-minute solo from Parker, in which the ensemble rises to meet him with an almost Lygeti-esque progression. Parker's technique is simply unmatched, and his choices do expertly converge with the rest of the group. But it's as Parker's line wends its way to Pursglove's, which moves to the fore on the second track, “Sea No Shore,” that the structure of the whole suite begins to reveal its form. At this point, as well, the music takes on tones of Toshiyuki Miyama's New Herd Orchestra. The structure and form feel commingled in a way that Hawkins has been moving towards for several albums, and the tonal warmth of “Ensemble Equals Together” is another point along his trajectory exploring community, organized improvisation, and a kind of social harmonics. Towards the end, as strings fall away into a tense, minor space, Parker's sax attempts to keep the group aloft. The tension is expert, Marshall and Taylor dashing forwards towards a suspense-laden finale.

Contrasting with Parker's solo, Hawkins takes the lead on “Leaving the Classroom of a Beloved Teacher” with a slightly relaxed opening. Within the space of about two minutes, however, he's toured stride, swing, and free alike, dipping into a century of Waller, Ellington, and Taylor. Charles, one of Hawkins's longtime musical partners, is so perfectly suited to duetting on this one, and the rest of the ensemble circles them both with sparkling, contrapuntal motion. For anyone who has followed Hawkins for some time, a title referencing baobabs promises something special. “Ecstatic Baobabs” marks the sixth recorded variation, following recordings by Hawkins solo, with trio and ensemble, and with the Convergence Quartet. The voicing in this version echoes previous variations, Easter eggs for a close listen, with Marshall and Taylor again taking the spotlight. This family of pieces often gives performers the chance to show their patient, meditative side, putting listeners into an impressionistic space, similar to the effect of a Joseph Jarman composition. Again, this is Hawkins drawing on a deep wellspring of inspiration, and it finds its apotheosis in “Optimism of the Will,” which reflects and builds upon “Ensemble Equals Together,” bringing the suite to its structural conclusion. As Hawkins explained elsewhere , the basic structure looks like this:

1: Solo feature — 2: Improvised contrast — 3: Tutti culmination

4: Solo feature — 5: Composed contrast — 6: Tutti culmination

And while it's admittedly useful to understand this, from a technical perspective, in fact the whole ensemble performs so successfully, one can easily glean the intention without much parsing. Gliding from movement to movement, Musson, Pursglove, Arben, and Parker give a series of striking performances, embracing the opportunity to perform in concert—even if not “in concert”—and giving themselves up to the goals of the music. If that sounds lofty, it's important to recall where we were at roughly a year ago, as Hawkins assembled the musicians in person to record the suite. Stormy, turbulent, unknown, 2020 was many things, memorable above all for the global COVID-19 outbreak. So much of last year's new music was performed in isolated solo, recorded at home by the artists themselves. And so, the fact of a large ensemble recording, wearing its utopic vision on its sleeve, seems improbable, at best. And yet, here we are, and everyone involved has done the near impossible and made what's already a highlight of the new year. Good on them.

Read an interview by Lee Rice Epstein with Alexander Hawkins here.

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Alexander Hawkins - Unit[e] (AHM, 2017) *****

By Lee Rice Epstein

Even without direct line drawn by the opening track, a rousing cover of Jerome Cooper’s “For the People,” the new album from Alexander Hawkins inspires associations with the heyday of 1970s free and avant-garde jazz. Unit[e] is a broad-ranging album, a showcase for two sides of Hawkins’s music, with groups of varying sizes: his sextet, recorded in fall of 2016; and a new ensemble with 13 players, recorded in early 2017. Among the albums that came to mind is the classic Ornette Coleman album In All Languages (more on Ornette in a minute). Hawkins highlights different aspects of his musical interests through the two groups, weaving common threads of freedom, collaboration, and, yes, unity. I don’t think it’s overstating the case to say this is a free-jazz masterpiece. In all ways, it deserves its place alongside Coleman’s In All Languages, one of my personal favorites and easily one of the best of all time (heck, Robert Christgau loved Coleman’s album enough to review it for both Village Voice and Playboy).

The first disc has Hawkins with his stellar sextet: Dylan Bates on violin, Shabaka Hutchings on bass clarinet and tenor saxophone, Otto Fischer on electric guitar, Neil Charles on double bass, and Tom Skinner on drums. Following their Cooper cover, Hawkins, Fischer, Charles, and Skinner launch into “[C]all (Part 1),” a really excellent take on Ornette’s harmolodics. Hutchings solos on tenor, with all the richness of Dewey Redman. Skinner holds down the rhythm ably, dropping in the occasional funk fill but otherwise channeling Denardo Coleman expertly. When the band reprises “[C]all” later on the album, Skinner drives a bit harder, he and Hutchings pairing up for a pulsing, choppy run. These small amoebic-style cells of players, clustering in 2s and 3s during open improvisation, is often a grounding force in group performances. With Hawkins, however, these clusters tend to feel slightly more organic than structured, and I get the sense (although I don’t know for certain) that a good part of him bringing players together is getting them to harmonize, not musically but emotionally. Take the middle section of the set: “[K]now,” a graceful mid-tempo track with spoken word from Fischer, occasionally spotlights Hutchings on bass clarinet, either unaccompanied or barely accompanied. This is followed by “[W]here,” which opens with a patient duet from Bates and Charles, and features a lengthy solo from Fischer. Throughout both tracks, Hawkins and Skinner seem to float in, around, and through the others, sometimes merging lines, sometimes clashing, yet always reinforcing deep connections that keep the music in flux. It’s a balance that requires tons of effort, especially in a sextet. Naturally, expanding to a large ensemble raises the stakes considerably.

Last summer, Spike Orchestra’s Sam Eastmond kicked off a thread on Facebook asking for recommendations for large-ensemble recordings, and Hawkins’s replies give some sense of the thought process behind part two of Unit[e]. In his flood of recommendations, there are a few key signposts: Sam Rivers (Hawkins mentioned Winds of Manhattan, but I’d also point listeners to Culmination and Inspiration); Muhal Richard Abrams; and Horace Tapscott’s albums with his Pan Afrikan Peoples Arkestra. Although there is a distinct Rivbea Orchestra vibe, I found the Abrams and Tapscott influences particularly strong. The freely organized ensemble utterly transforms Hawkins’s music in their bold, lively performance.

The lineup is filled with familiar names, starting with Bates, Fischer, and Charles returning: James Arben on flute, tenor saxophone, and bass clarinet; Julie Kjær on flute, alto flute, alto saxophone, and bass clarinet; Alex Ward on clarinet; Nick Malcolm on trumpet and flugelhorn; Laura Jurd on trumpet; Hannah Marshall on cello; Percy Pursglove on trumpet and double bass; Matthew Wright on live electronics; and Stephen Davis on drums and percussion. The music overall isn’t quite as piano-forward as a Tapscott record, but Hawkins does employ a similar brassy swing to great effect, such as the first part of “See[k] > Hear[t].” During the transition into “Hear[t],” we get some cat-and-mouse style interplay from Arben and Kjær, before the band drops out and Wright gets an extended solo spotlight. On the title track, “Unit[e],” the group opens with a chamber-like fugue that gradually, almost imperceptibly, morphs into fantastic group improvisation. Arben, Kjær, Bates, and Hawkins interweave their solos, as Marshall, Charles, and Davis keep the group spinning forward to Wright’s brief coda.

Both sets are incredible, musically speaking. New ideas seem to sprout every few moments, whole songs go in unexpected directions. But perhaps one of the things that doesn’t get said enough is how fun improvised music can be, and often is. On every Hawkins record, and in many of the video clips I’ve seen of him, he has such a lively and infectious energy. And with these groups, he’s found simpatico players, who not only shine, they sparkle.

Listen and download from Bandcamp or buy from Instantjazz.

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Han Bennink, Steve Noble, Alexander Hawkins - 11.8.17 (Otoroku, 2018) *****

By Sammy Stein

Out on Otoroku 11.8.17 was recorded live at Café Oto, London. The first track Bennink-Hawkins has Han Bennink and Alexander Hawkins engaged in what at first sounds like a playground free for all. We have scales, we have polyrhythmic challenges and responses and we have, by the end, a seemingly effortless synergy where the two musicians seem to pre-empt the other before they play the notes, sometimes coming in with almost perfectly symmetrical timing. This is a track to listen and enjoy for its development and there is one gorgeous passage where Bennink simply crashes out a cymbal rhythm whilst Alexander Hawkins goes nuts – in a most controlled and musical manner – just what you need if you are ever find yourself wondering how improvised music works – here’s how!

This music grabs you hard and fast, frenetic episodes followed by laid back, almost silence-filled periods and there is such communication here, the flying energy is almost touchable. Alexander Hawkins makes the piano speak, sigh, shout, sing and the call and response references are here almost without the players being aware. For just over half and hour the two deliver completely engaging listening and there is a classical influenced section too with Hawkins masterfully incorporating Mengleberg-like and then Bach-like chordal progressions, before returning to his home base of improvisation, while Bennink reads him perfectly, ever controlling the percussive intonation and additions. There are so many changes and rhythmic alterations here and each time one of the musicians changes speed, tempo or reference, the other follows. Around the 18-20 minutes mark there are some wonderful changes and musical chases, which is just one of the reasons why this music is so listenable. It is about listening to each other, responding and engaging the listener – and it works. At times Bennink is ‘crash bang wallop’ and Alexander responds every time, giving an almost child-like competitive edge to some areas with a trace of humour and this also makes it easily referenceable and accessible. Other times, Bennink sets up deep, thrumming rhythms over which Hawkins improvises and extends his arms to include nearly the entire length of the keyboard at some point or other. Then, there is a bit of swing, with a (sort of) version of ‘Once in A While by Green/Edwards (I think) which is followed by enthusiastic applause before the pair return for a bit of improvised mayhem and enjoyment to finish the set. This is some of the most engaging and innovative playing I have heard for a long time. As the recording is live, there is some great banter and interaction as well.

Then to Bennink-Noble ( track 2). Introduced by Bennink with some jokes and gentle humour. The humour is just about all that can be described as gentle here. The incredible sound of Bennink and Noble fills the very essence of the air. This is noise, this is soundscapes, pictures created by the percussion talents of two of the most powerful forces in rhythmic escapades of today. Bennink delivers his characteristic heavy thrumming whilst Steve Noble plays catch up for a time before delivering his own leading rhythmic counter, which Bennink immediately throws back his way and so it goes on. Two drummers at the forefront of music – and it shows. At times the pair seem so in tune it sounds like a single, very intense drummer. Bennink then explains to the audience (and Steve) the intricacies of a drum roll – its difficulty and how it seems like a box of peas and a hailstorm (listen and you will understand). Noble duly delivers an extended roll and then we are off again, the noise coming in waves and rolls, beautifully controlled yet unplanned, unfettered and played with a freedom of spirit. An almost perfect storm is brewed by the two drummers playing together, apart, together, listening, together, apart and so on. Absolutely wonderful to listen to, the rhythms ebbing and flowing, changing, remaining, changing – you get the picture. It is hard to get across within the limitations imposed by narrative just how incredible the sound is – the loudness, the control and the generosity each players gives the other. Bennink has a habit of bringing out the best in himself at performances but also in others and here, he delivers in spades. Steve Noble is totally up for anything Bennink offers and then some. Two drummers, one aim, one total wonderful recording.

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Karl Evangelista with Alexander Hawkins, Louis Moholo-Moholo, and Trevor Watts - Apura! (Astral Spirits, 2020) ****½

By Lee Rice Epstein

A double-slab of extended improvisation featuring a cross-generational meeting of masters musicians. As the joke goes, take my money! But seriously, this is one of those superb projects, where a musician like guitarist Karl Evangelista is able to simultaneously collaborate with and pay tribute to living legends in the free improvisation community. Bringing together saxophonist Trevor Watts and drummer Louis Moholo-Moholo (who have not recorded together in several decades) is the rare long-delayed reunion that far exceeds one’s expectations.

Born in 1939 and 1940, respectively, Watts and Moholo-Moholo have taken their playing to the very far edges of free , both settling into late-career partnerships with talented pianists. Watts has recorded several albums with Veryan Weston, from duets to the latest quartet configuration. And Alexander Hawkins has shown himself to be Moholo-Moholo’s partner in spirit, as well as in music. Bringing these three together is Evangelista, a Filipino-American guitarist living in California’s Bay Area. Why are geography and heritage worth mentioning here, now? I think (maybe hope is a better term) most of the readers are familiar with the history among these players, but for those who don’t know about Moholo-Moholo, he, along with the charter members of the legendary Blue Notes (including Dudu Pukwana, Mongezi Feza, Johnny Dyani, and Chris McGregor), escaped from apartheid in South Africa during the 1960s. The pain of discrimination and the vitality of community has been at the center of Moholo-Moholo’s art for over 50 years, and players like Evangelista, Watts, and Hawkins know how to bring their own struggles to the fore on songs like “Utang Na Loob,” “Resist,” “Harana,” and the superb “Refugees.”

For Evangelista, this was really my introduction to his playing. I was aware of him as a fellow Californian, but Apura! is the first I’ve had a chance to dig in and listen to his technique, get a feeling for his perspective. For a lineup that strongly hints at Derek Bailey’s long shadow, Evangelista’s found a path that’s more punkishly angular, further down Noël Akchoté’s lineage. You can hear this in the opening minutes of “Apura!” where he and Watts chase a winding melody, punctuated by Hawkins’s block chords. I’ve written about Hawkins and the historical depth he brings to his playing. Hearing him and Evangelista both, as they pay homage to and gently push away from their elders highlights just how deep the respect goes. Were it not for Watts and Moholo-Moholo also simultaneously grasping for and rejecting the playing of their elders, free improvisation wouldn’t be where it is today. Thus, the only logical path forward requires some respectful tension. “Utang Na Loob” opens with a restrained, almost melancholic vibe, before settling into a riveting, fiery dance between Evalgelista, Hawkins, and Moholo-Moholo.

It’s impossible to resist a title like “I Eat Death Threats for Breakfast,” a bold, pulsing track that kicks off the outstanding middle section. Watts again sits out, but he opens “Resist” in the very upper register, like trailing smoke rising to the sky. Gradually, the rest of the band members follow his lead, with notes spiking up and out of various corners of the mix. In the final minutes, Moholo-Moholo kicks the quartet into action, and the result is something like the musical equivalent of a sequence from The Battle of Algiers.

“Balikbayan” features some pointed duetting from Hawkins and Evangelista. The title, a Tagolog word for someone returning to the Philippines, hints at the extended lines of family and community drawn across the album. Where do we belong? What identity defines or contains us? How do we reach across oceans, borders, walls? In the end (almost literally, as the final song is titled “Consummatum Est”), it’s music and art that transcend the physical realm. As “Consummatum Est” spins forward in its closing minutes, Hawkins settles into a mid-range figure that Watts picks up and runs with, the two sprinting towards the finish, handing off the baton to Evangelista for a subtle, final statement. At nearly two hours, I wasn’t even close to feeling ready for it to end. Just like with Hawkins’s own Unit[e] and Angelika Niescier Trio’s The Berlin Concert, Apura! is another modern classic, sure to sit alongside the many records that inspired it, and hopefully the future albums it spawns.

The album is available for purchase here.

Karl Evangelista is performing a solo show on Friday, May 22, to celebrate the album release. Details here:

https://www.facebook.com/events/704716443624305/

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Ensembles with electronics: rewiring the imagination

By Stuart Broomer

These are recent and distinguished bands united by the extent to which they’re refined, defined and expanded by electronics, harbingers not of the future but of the immediate present, multiplying and expanding through degrees of transformation, each a legitimate heir to the kinds of informed complexity pioneered by musical outsiders like John Benson Brooks and Sun Ra and literary outsiders like Brion Gysin and William S. Burroughs.

Alexander Hawkins -- No Nation but Imagination (Intakt, 2026) 

 

Pianist/composer Alexander Hawkins has already covered a broad musical spectrum in his career, from Togetherness Music for Sixteen Musicians featuring Evan Parker to Carnival Celestial, his brilliant reinvention of the piano trio with bassist Neil Charles and drummer Stephen Davis. No Nation but Imagination may be his most striking work yet, with a trans-Atlantic quintet that links Chicago-resident flutist Nicole Mitchell and drummer Hamid Drake with British musicians Rhodri Davies, here playing harp and electronics, and turntablist/sound artist Matthew Wright. That’s not a predictable combination, and it immediately lives up to that promise of the unlikely: it’s music that can find a groove, but it’s a groove that hasn’t exactly happened before, suggestive in some ways of the unpredictable musical culture of Intakt label-mates Elias Stemeseder and Christian Lillinger and their Umbra series of recordings.

Liner note author Peter Margasak has traced the project’s complex lineage and associations, beginning with Hawkins’ enthusiasm for the Mandingo Griot Society, a band that Drake played in in the 1970s with Gambian kora master Foday Musa Suso. Mitchell has played with a kora master more recently, the Malian Ballaké Sissoko. Those associations with the harp-like kora triggered the inclusion of harpist Rhodri Davies, who has also worked extensively with electronics, also the arena of Matthew Wright. The resultant ensemble bears a certain resemblance to Wright and Evan Parker’s Trance Map in its integration of acoustic and electronic instruments and processing, the result here a mix of live and studio recordings with further processing.

It’s music that has covered tremendous ground just coming into being, and it’s fascinating how the most exotic of technological procedures admit of a certain alien prettiness, a provocative banality, evident here from the opening “Solo Way Far Gone”: mysterious electronic piano tinkling, at once bearer and judge of the merely pretty, is here elevated by degrees of mystery and alien artifice. The first real group track, “Resolution Each and Every,” suggests that some 1950s exotica by Martin Denny (e.g., “Quiet Village”) has been recovered by some distant and unknown civilization (perhaps Kurt Vonnegut’s refined Tralfamadorians), then altered, expanded and broadcast back to earth, with Mitchell’s flute assuming multiple identities amidst the complex percussion and a certain general wobbling of harp and synthesizer, with the music stretching far beyond the merely exotic. So too does “Mirror No Border”, which bristles with Hawkins’ percussive piano flurries and Mitchell’s alternately piping and soaring lines.

The more extended pieces create increasingly complex spaces. “Lullaby Much Further” combines near silence with a dauntingly mysterious collection of sounds and a complex web of connections, while “Hocket Fierce Peaceful” achieves the contradictory character of its title by setting a flute of almost unearthly tranquility amidst a maze of abstract and decorative electronic keyboards. 

 

Sofia Borges - Rieko Okuda - Peter Van Huffel -- Lagrangian Points (4daRecord, 2026) 

Equally mixed in its combinations of the acoustic and the electronic, Lagrangian Points differs significantly in being a documentary recording of a live performance from Berlin’s Morphine Raum, all the electronic processing going on simultaneously with the acoustic. Sofia Borges plays drums. percussion and electronics; Rieko Okuda, piano, keyboards and electronics; Peter Van Huffel alto and baritone saxophones and electronics.

According to the liner note “ Lagrangian Points are zones of delicate balance where forces align and bodies can remain suspended. In that sense, the trio forms a system of its own: each voice holds and is held by the others, maintaining a moving equilibrium, with enough space left open for the imagination to drift beyond its edges.” That particularly double identity is linked to the presence of electronics employed by each trio member, to the extent that instrumental identities can blur into one another.

The opening “Ghost Currents” initially seems to emphasize Okuda’s electronic keyboards and Borges’ percussion, but within moments the music’s distinctive complexity is apparent, many of the sounds traceable to their acoustic origins, but nonetheless operating in a transformative state, the three elaborating waves of sound that might suggest a wholly electronic extension of an improvising ensemble akin to Cecil Taylor’s trio with Andrew Cyrille and Jimmy Lyons.

“Parallax” introduces a subtle world of discreet electronic distortions, near-invocations of piano strings and metallic percussion all of these combining to suggest alien transmissions from space as well as a distinctly human music. Just as Alexander Hawkins’ electronic webs on No Nation But Imagination can make Nicole Mitchell’s flute seem alien, Van Huffel’s alto here might be purely acoustic at times, yet his aptitude for abstraction is such that his alto suggests something quite different, almost a harmonica, its voice swimming in an electronic maze, until electronic alterations to the saxophone draw it wholly into an intermediate zone floating between the acoustic and the electronic.

With the final track, “Hypnopompia”, Van Huffel’s saxophone initially provides an acoustic line in an alien soundscape, but as the surrounding sound grows increasingly menacing (there is a suggestion of hybrid alien predators), his sound gradually mutates, becoming closer and closer to the world that surrounds him, achieved with a brilliant combination of acoustic and electronic techniques. As Van Huffel moves further towards the electronic, Borges briefly inhabits the acoustic role, but the ultimate group movement will be almost wholly electronic.

These two remarkable recordings together articulate a new terrain, reflective of an increasingly mediated world, one in which the likelihood of deception conditions interpretation, one in which art and its appreciation might increasingly stretch both creative and interpretive acts toward surveillance.

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Marco Colonna & Alexander Hawkins - Dolphy Underlined (Fundacja Sluchaj, 2020) **** ½

By Matthew Banash

Tribute albums, for lack of a more precise term, double down on the task. Cosmetic comparisons yield simple dichotomies, plain one-dimensional statements and conclusions that neither reward nor encourage deep listening. Does one listen only to the recording at hand or in the context of its concept?

While Dolphy’s versions are polyphonous they are never cacophonous and employ a split-second deliberateness in conception and execution that illustrates intellect over flash but never at the expense of Soul. In my opinion they are the perfect gateway to the sense and sensibility of the “free jazz” that followed. Colonna and Hawkins approach them as Compositions and not just mere tunes to travel “Out There” and succeed in exploiting the parameters of the duo to parse out the range of Dolphy’s compositions and aesthetic almost as if note by note in an aural funhouse hall of mirrors.

“Something Sweet, Something Tender” is typical of the album in such a good way - Colonna and Hawkins play slowly parsing out the tune note by note, taking that moment’s consideration before each turn of note and phrase and in doing so draw the listener into Dolphy’s world, the world of free, unfettered uninhibited expression.

Hawkins’ solo reading of “Serene” has spare ECM quality to it. He opens by allowing the notes their lifespan before playing another and suspends time by doing so; the song makes its own way touching on a variety of moods and runs, hinting here and there, skirting the issue at times, its strength is the low-key energy Hawkins musters to sustain the song's mood. One can visualize him leaning into the keyboard then sitting back with everyone aural epiphany.

Colonna plays sopranino on “Gazzelloni” with a light evanescent tone grounded by Hawkins’ sure touch. And here is where a lot of duo recordings fall into rote cliches of leading following battling resolving or just play ignoring one another and putting a lot of effort into it. But here the two manage to do all in the spirit of the music without dismissing the listener. Because the music in all its variety and influences is inclusive. And Colonna and Hawkins always leave space for the listener.

“Straight Up and Down” uses that riff and tongue slap as Hawkins skips about the keyboard before they settle into their grooves. Here it isn’t deconstruction as much pacing and appreciation. This is not a dry mechanical scholarly approach to Dolphy. And then you get to 2’20'' and get the classic line, the woozy, gauzy one, and you realize, Holy S… Dolphy could write hooks!

“God Bless the Child” is Colonna’s solo take on Billie Holiday’s “God Bless the Child” is an outlier as it focuses on Dolphy’s approach to interpretation rather than composing. It is a lovely, timeless piece. Colonna uses a good bit of range as the solo echoes and reverbs like a reverent voice resounding in an old church.

On “245” the duo digs into the choicest riffs and manage to create the noir feeling of the original by playing it, not updating it or deconstructing it. It has a lugubrious slow ending that one can’t help but think of the tragically short life of its composer.

Recordings like Dolphy Underlined illustrate how Eric Dolphy opened the music wide for successive generations to play as they wish and Colonna and Hawkins do just by paying homage to the music and the artist by being thoughtful, passionate musicians, by being themselves.

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Konstrukt & Alexander Hawkins – 10.08.15 (OTOroku, 2016) ****

By JA Besche

Konstrukt and Café Oto are back with another release, this one being a live recording from 2015 featuring pianist Alexander Hawkins.  Readers of this blog will likely be familiar with Konstrukt already, as the Turkish jammers have been consistently releasing several albums a year (mostly live) over the recent past, straddling lines of fusion, free jazz/improv, rock, and ethnic music.  They are often in collaboration with another artist or two, and this time it’s Alexander Hawkins, a relatively young jazz pianist who has been cutting his teeth in the UK improv scene with the likes of Evan Parker and Louis Moholo, while also leading his own trio.

Konstrukt typically operate as a quartet with some of them taking on multiple instruments, but the typical set up is drums, electric bass, reeds, and electric guitar.  Having a pianist like Hawkins adds a lot, then, and this recording offers a different type of sound than I am used to with Konstrukt releases.
As a group that is often hard to pin down in terms of genre, this album seems to me to be deeply rooted in the kind of ideas that Miles Davis was exploring when he originally went to “Electric Miles”, with albums like In A Silent Way, Bitches Brew, and A Tribute to Jack Johnson.  While this particular release does not have the space or minimalism of In A Silent Way, it also doesn’t get quite as straightforward as releases like On The Corner either.  In fact, it really is its own beast with its own voice, but I couldn’t help but to think of Miles own brand of electric jazz/funk/rock fusion while listening to this.

The recording has two tracks, or more specifically, two sets from the same night, each a single, 35 minute plus improvisation.  The first set is an incongruous, vaguely hypnotic combination of psychedelic grooving and jazz technique.  It sets down a disjointed and unpredictable groove, ambling along as a wall of sound.  However, it seems content to just ooze along without direction.  It is wholly unobjectionable, but also not gripping in any way.  I don’t get much of a sense of risk taking, and the exploratory nature of it is confined to a certain logic or approach that becomes formulaic.  I wouldn’t say it is bad in any way, but it didn’t keep my attention or interest, and I don’t see myself revisiting the set any time soon.

On the other hand, the second set sucked me in immediately and I was surprised that 35 minutes or so had passed when it ended, as it was that enjoyable.  It starts silent and spacey, unidentifiable electronic sounds and droning with a trickling of Hawkins keys spilling into the emptiness, which eventually turns into a full on cascade of adept soloing across the entire range of the piano, while the rest of the musicians establish a fragmented but melodic groove that sucks you into foot-tapping and head nodding places before totally flipping into more odd time signatures and barely tethered rhythms.  They still move like a juggernaut of sound, but there is more interesting interplay, less predictability, and more moments of sheer transcendence.  Often times they work toward a crescendo, with Hawkins and Korhan Futaci (reeds) trading licks among the chaos, while the high register and strident sound of the gralla cuts through the noise in an impressive flurry of notes at times.  They reach moments both dark and ecstatic, with quick changes that sometimes leave Hawkins plinking on his piano by himself, reveling in the wake of the massive wall of sound that just disappeared.  They explore a full range of interesting ideas that span the gamut of their varied styles, and by the time it gets going it is a totally different beast from any electric Miles, more aggressive, immediate, and varied.

I have gone with a rating of 4 for this one, because I have to judge the recording as a whole, but if I were given two tracks as good as the second set it could easily be a 5.  The first set may have seemed, well boring to a degree, but in context it was a decent table setter for the second, more daring set.  I highly recommend checking it out.  While this might not be totally successful throughout, it seems not to ramble along anymore, but to move purposefully toward the craziness and unpredictability of the second set, which expertly straddles the lines between the rhythm and repetition of funk/rock, the technique of jazz, the space of free improv, and the ecstasy of collective improvisation.

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Causa Efeito – Lisbon, May 23-25, 2024

By David Cristol
Photos by Nuno Martins

On the 50 ^th year of Portugal’s overthrowing of the Salazar dictatorship, it was only logical for the 2^nd edition of the Causa Efeito to choose freedom as its theme. Like the previous year, the concerts unfold on the premises of Universidade NOVA de Lisboa. With its combination of key creative figures from Europe and the United States and young talent, this edition was again organized by Pedro Costa, with the help of Clara Rowland, pro-rector of Culture at the faculty.

In addition to premium-quality concerts, this edition pioneered masterclasses from the likes of Tim Berne, Alexander Hawkins and Michael Formanek, that provided food for thought, as well as a book presentation and a Europe Jazz Network gathering.

David Maranha and Manuel Mota

Electric organist David Maranha and electric guitarist Manuel Mota provided the opening act in an unusual venue: the downstairs (empty) garage of the university. The wide, low-ceilinged and windowless space is a perfect setting from their brand of ambient soundscapes, also involving expert foot pedal work. One is tempted to move around the space, were it not the fear of producing disruptive noises. The music unfolds at a snail's pace, presenting some dark and disquieting aspects, through considered and minimal means, between muffled organ sounds and portentous guitar friction, for a reasonably short duration. 

Alexander Hawkins, Michael Formanek, Ricardo Toscano and Tim Berne

Ricardo Toscano, Alexander Hawkins and Michael Formanek had never played together prior to the previous day’s rehearsal and, for a few moments, onstage during the afternoon’s enlightening masterclass. Portugal’s Toscano – the youngest of the trio, on alto sax – and USA’s Formanek on bass share the common language of jazz, while Hawkins, though no stranger to the idiom, comes from a different perspective on the music, which makes it all the more interesting. Their improvisations are swift and flexible, and different modalities of interaction are put to the test: response, opposition, plural proposition, parallel motions, rhythmic deconstruction… Toscano spontaneously veers towards the straight jazz soloing he’s known for, but manages to make it work with what his partners throw at him. Following the afternoon’s talk, we witness the praxis of the art of interaction and of fitting each member's aesthetic personality into a collective context, in real time. The three also play with textures. Hawkins appears as a leader of sorts, coming out with many ideas, which his accomplices either appropriate and develop, or stray from. The next piece seems based on a notion of ​​velocity while still moving in the abstract. Everyone is acutely in the moment, in a paradoxical state of great focus and letting go at the same time. We’re in for a surprise, as Tim Berne shows up, on the same instrument as Toscano. A duo between UK’s Hawkins and the New York alto ensues, the latter rising with delight to the level of challenge set by the pianist. That boosts Toscano’s confidence and allows him to take off, less tentative than before. The set culminates in quartet format, both saxophones either combined or taking turns, with Formanek’s steadily pristine support. 

Fade In

Italian trio Fade In performed music from the album “Live fast, die a legend”. The pieces are composed by bass player Pietro Elia Barcellona and drummer Marco Luparia and have an obsessive quality to them, with precise irregular metrics. The approach is percussive, with broken beats, an ostinato bass, clarinet hiccups courtesy of Federico Calcagno, at times reminiscent of the quartet أحمد [Ahmed]. The same principles are repeated on each successive piece, evoking some machinery of the industrial revolution, trembling with tension, expelling smoke and threatening to fall apart. The trio has been playing this repertoire for years and the cohesion is remarkable. Maybe the whole thing feels too much like a style exercise, the music locked into an immovable set of rules, and the exhilaration of speed that’s implied in the album title and often a temptation that’s hard to resist for young musicians. Let’s wish them a long life on the road to freedom. 

Tim Berne

One of the key characters in forward-looking jazz since the 1980s, Tim Berne has not played alone in twenty years. He’s an artist who loves company, and isn’t fond of extended soloing even in a group context. Berne is standing close to the audience, on the edge of the stage. After a humble, almost self-deprecating introduction, he proceeds to transfix the audience by a sample of his art, as wayward as it is unique. The unamplified glorious sound fills the auditorium. The Snakeoil leader explores the treble register, favors unpredictable turns that take on meaning as they unfold, in sequences that never feel forced, from saturated to velvety emissions and overtones. His research parallels that of reedsman Ivo Perelman, with whom he recorded recently. 

Tim Berne and Michael Formanek

Likewise, pals Berne and Michael Formanek, of Bloodcount fame with Chris Speed, Jim Black and Marc Ducret, hadn’t joined forces as a duo in three decades. This is a happy reunion, and one demanding of our undivided attention; those able to let go of their daily concerns and actively follow the discourse of the two artists are rewarded by musical poetry both complex and accessible, exquisitely played and benefiting from the veterans’ huge respective and shared experience. One for the ages.

Pedro Carneiro and Eduardo Raon

The pairing of Pedro Carneiro on marimba and Eduardo Raon on harp is innovative in several respects. First with an instrumental association that I’m not sure ever happened before in improvised music; secondly with the way the harp in particular is put to use. Virtuoso Carneiro’s demeanor is steeped in the classical music ethos, and his playing is on the demonstrative side. The large instrument certainly calls for ample gestures, even athletic, which may explain the impression of showiness. I had enjoyed his duet with pianist Rodrigo Pinheiro, but in this case, closing my eyes in the darkness of the room, I found the harp playing to be more adventurous and engaging, Raon coaxing yet unheard-of sounds from his instrument, in subdued yet striking fashion. 

Benjamin Duboc and Edward Perraud

Eve Risser performed twice. The trio “En Corps” with fellow French citizens Benjamin Duboc (double bass) and Edward Perraud (drums) has been going on for twelve years, with only one self-titled album released in 2012, and reunions once a year for improvised concerts. Pedro Costa introduces the band, with a focus on Risser whose music grew up from her association with the Clean Feed label. From a cautious start, the impromptu music moves from slow and agile, elegant and sober, to wildly effervescent. Perraud has multiple tools which he feverishly replaces, without even thinking about which one to grab. His heavy gesticulation almost distracts from listening. Between storming drums and unruly piano, the unwavering Duboc maintains the course as a seasoned ship captain, keeping the boat from crashing on the reefs. The clatter and intensity don’t hamper a feeling of continuity, although Perraud’s excesses are responsible for breaking the balance and flow a couple of times. 

Eve Risser

More of Risser on the following day for a solo performance, in the spirit of her Après un rêve album. Audience and artist are facing an upright prepared piano which vertical mechanism is open for everybody to see. Glowing neon lights surround the instrument and help focus our gaze on the device. There are other elements such as a kick drum, and indeed, it all feels akin to a one-person tuned drums orchestra, with polyrhythms, clusters resonant or muted. It connects dots between two of Risser’s poles of attraction: unorthodox improvisation and African music. As inferred by the title, the process feels like a strange and beautiful dream, remote from any jazz reference. A recording of live shows using the same gear and concept was planned for release, but the hard drive got lost. The Lisbon audience however was not deprived of a concert that was at least double the length of the album. And like with Formanek and Berne, it was a privilege getting to hear it from up close.  

The festival appears more appealing to the cognoscenti than to the audience-at-large. Familiar faces from the Lisbon creative music community show up evening after evening to enjoy the concrete utopia of an uncompromising programming. The foundation is rock-solid, and time should cement Causa Efeito’s standing as a choice event for listening, meeting and learning, which, as everyone should know, is actually a lot of fun.

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Sofia Jernberg and Nick Dunston: an anti-singer and an anti-opera

By João Esteves da Silva

Released just one week apart back in April, these were arguably my two favorite albums of 2024 with some (remote) connection to the jazz category (alongside maybe Matt Mitchell’s solo piano album Illimitable). They are also interestingly related, beyond the fact that composer-singer Sofia Jernberg is present in both of them - as a main protagonist in Musho, a duo with composer-pianist Alexander Hawkins, and as part of a larger, intricate tapestry in composer-bassist Nick Dunston’s COLLA VOCE. Both are, as I take it, groundbreaking statements, featuring among the most significant albums to have been released lately. In particular, both radically question the role of the voice in twenty-first century music. If I were to classify them somehow, I’d say something like “avant-garde world music” wouldn’t fit Musho too badly and, despite its versatility, I wouldn’t mind placing COLLA VOCE in the contemporary classical shelf. But, in fairness, both works are really sui generis.

Alexander Hawkins & Sofia Jernberg - Musho (Intakt, 2024) ***** 

When faced with Musho’s cover, one must be struck by the fact that the singer’s name comes below the pianist’s, for the convention tells us that it should be the other way around, even in cases where the latter happens to be the main composer. This subtle subversion is itself telling: Musho shouldn’t be taken as different in kind from Hawkins’s other duo collaborations with notable women musician-composers such as Tomeka Reid, Angelika Niescier or Nicole Mitchell. There’s a more substantial view implicit here: even when performing songs (with words), the voice is simply another instrument (with its own unique features, of course), on a par with the cello, the saxophone, or the flute; and the singer is simply another musician, here on a par with the pianist. The conventional singer/accompanist hierarchy is thus shattered, and so both singer and pianist are emancipated: they are still free to stick to more or less conventional roles, if they so wish, but can also embrace all the remaining possibilities their instruments offer; and, crucially, they present themselves to audiences as equals: a genuine duo of musician-composers.

The singer qua musicianconception (and its voice qua instrument counterpart) has been prominent in creative music for some time now, but few have made as powerful and persuasive a case for it as Jernberg. She is the ultimate anti-singer, in a sense that goes even beyond the emancipation of her instrument: while breaking new ground at the musical (or sonic) level, she rejects all sorts of extra-musical diversions that often intrude the ways in which artists (especially women singers) are publicly perceived (and judged), namely uses of her image for marketing purposes or stage performance antics. This is not just as an artistic statement but a political one, radically at odds with the kind of liberal (pseudo-)feminism that preaches “women’s empowerment” without seriously questioning the very power dynamics that foster the oppression of women in the first place. And she does all this while being one of the most formidable singers around, with a gorgeous (and instantly recognizable) timbre and mind-blowing technical resources, which she deploys with a rare intelligence and taste.

Together with Hawkins, another true musical polymath, Jernberg has created a sound world that is both genreless and timeless, and as interesting as it is moving: a song cycle comprising material from various traditions (Ethiopian, Swedish, Armenian, English), but arranged and performed in such a way so as to form a single cohesive aesthetic, both breathtakingly beautiful and new. And, despite such cohesiveness, one is still able to trace what is peculiar to each of these traditions, i.e., we get a form of universality that does not overwhelm locality. (Here, too, one is bound to think of salient political analogies.)

Musho is a definite highlight of Hawkins’ already rich discography. And it is the perfect entry point into Jernberg’s art.

Nick Dunston - COLLA VOCE (Out Of Your Head, 2024) ***** 

An “Afro-Surrealist Anti-Opera”. That’s how Dunston describes COLLA VOCE , a kaleidoscopic work for string quartet, vocal quartet and chamber jazz ensemble, plus post-processing. The album, which is the work itself, was produced by Weston Olencki. Shortly after its release, Tyshawn Sorey won the Pulitzer Prize for Music with Adagio (For Wadada Leo Smith) , a work he then described as an “anti-concerto”. Now, is some kind of artistic (and, in a way, political) movement taking shape here? Possibly. One in which Black musician-composers, following on the great AACM tradition, confront the traditional media of (generally White) Western classical music and, instead of either submitting to their conventions or altogether rejecting them, subvert them in creatively adventurous ways, testing their very limits.

In the case of Sorey, we have a concerto for saxophone and orchestra which subverts the usual virtuoso role ascribed to the soloist: it’s an introspective, slowly unfolding work, and so an anti-virtuoso one; and, despite preserving the soloist-orchestra distinction to some extent, at times even an anti-soloist work, too, namely when the saxophone is withdrawn from its concerto-style prominence, blending into the orchestral texture instead.

The notion of an anti-operais perhaps less straightforward, but I’d say the aformentioned notion of an anti-singer may shed some light onto it: just as Hawkins and Jernberg overcome the singer/accompanist hierarchy, so does Dunston overcome the vocal/instrumental one on a larger scale. In fact, all four singers - Cansu Tanrikulu, Isabel Crespo Pardo, Friede Merze, and Jernberg herself - taking part in this anti-opera are themselves anti-singers of some kind. And this is to say that the roles ascribed to the JACK Quartet and the Berlin-based chamber jazz ensemble - comprising, alongside Dunston, violinist/violist Maria Reich, cellist Anil Eraslan, guitarist Tal Yahalom and drummer Moritz Baumgärtner - also go beyond what would have been commonly expected from them in an opera setting. At times the strings appear to scream, qua human voices, and there are occasions where the voices can be heard emitting string-like sounds, these being just two among many instances of unconventional stuff going on here.

Overall, Dunston, whose own double bass playing must also be lauded, achieves a remarkable balance between notation, spontaneous composition and post-production, making it hard to tell where one ends and the others begin. In particular, his string writing - formidably tackled by the formidable JACK players - is exceptional, totally devoid of cliché, somewhere in between the Wandelweiser aesthetic and harsh noise. He is a master at managing contrasts, and at reconciling (apparent) chaos with organization. One also gets subtle hints of modern NY jazz here and there, as well as more exotic or even hardcore sonorities. But despite all its sonic variety, COLLA VOCE is, ultimately, surprisingly cogent, although our very notion of cogency may well have been redefined by it.

While Musho is straightforwardly identifiable as a song cycle, no matter how subversive, one is bound to wonder whether COLLA VOCE is still recognizable as an opera at all. It’s a kind of duck-rabbit (to use Wittgenstein’s image), wavering between opera and something else - and that may be, at least partly, where its surrealism lies.

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François Houle / Alexander Hawkins / Harris Eisenstadt - You Have Options (Songlines, 2018) ****

By Eyal Hareuveni

Canadian, Vancouver-based clarinetist François Houle, fellow-Canadian, Brooklyn-based drummer Harris Eisenstadt and British, Oxford-based pianist Alexander Hawkins owe their meeting to the late artistic director of Vancouver Jazz Festival, Ken Pickering (1952-2018). Pickering always fostered international collaborations and he encouraged Houle to invite Eisenstadt to his quintet performance at the 2012 edition of the festival.

Later Pickering urged Houle to team with Hawkins. Houle had not heard of Hawkins, but trusted Pickering and invited Hawkins for a trio performance during the 2014 edition of the festival, again with Eisenstadt, who had worked before with Hawkins in the Convergence Quartet. The trio returned to the festival in 2016, and recorded You Have Options immediately afterwards. The album is dedicated to the generosity of Pickering's spirit and his singular vision.

Houle, Hawkins and Eisenstadt followed the wise advice of Pickering: trust the process, and employed their unselfish friendship for new, challenging experiences. The trio focuses on eclectic program of original pieces and tunes of Steve Lacy, Andrew Hill and an improvisational version of Charles Ives piece rather than replicating the free-form format of their performances at the festival. All the pieces stress melodic themes but with no attempt to reach sentimental territories, and all highlight the subtle, lyrical and poetic language of the trio, delivered in a quiet and introspective interplay.

The trio’s lyrical approach characterizes its interpretation of Lacy’s nostalgic “Art”. The trio interplay is truly poetic, as if meditating on Lacy’s beautiful, fragmented theme, is totally different than recent interpretations of this piece by double bass master Barry Guy and partner, violinist Maya Homburger or by the Swedish-Norwegian super-group Atomic. Even Houle’s “Run Riot”, the most intense piece here, emphasizes the trio's intimate and emphatic interplay. Hawkins’s bluesy “Advice”is the only piece that corresponds directly with jazz legacy, but from an ironic yet compassionate perspective. The improvisational arrangement of Ives “Largo” - originally written for violin, clarinet and piano and in the trio arrangement features Houle in the role of the violinist, highlights again the poetic sense of poise in this trio interplay. Eisenstadt’s clever “You Have Options, I Have a Lawyer” demonstrates a layered pulse, gradually explored by the trio, together and individually. The cover of Hill’s “Dusk” is true to the late pianist vision, blurring distinctions between contemporary, chamber music and modern jazz, or between the composed and improvised.

Pickering was right. This trio realizes his vision faithfully.

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Alexander Hawkins: Song Singular (Babel Label, 2013) ****½

Reviewed by Joe

Piano solo albums are one of those mediums that reveal much about the composer, probably because there's really no place to hide! "Song Singular" is a new album out on the Babel label from the composer/pianist Alexander Hawkins made up of ten pieces. It shows off not only his very quirky, but catchy, compositions, but also what a top level pianist Hawkins is. Stylistically it's difficult to place him in any one camp but if you're familiar with the solo albums of pianists Randy Weston, Matthew Shipp, Misha Mengleberg, Craig Taborn or Myra Melford then you have an idea of the type of playing and musical direction the music takes. In particular, like Randy Weston, his use of a strong bass note rhythms, Hawkins manages to create complex melodies which even if abstract are also accesible.

There are ten titles on the record, one of them a re-worked version of "Take the A Train" (Billy Strayhorn). The music borders between a contemporary classical feel, not unlike Henri Dutilleux, and bright powerful Monk type spiky melodies built around intervalic leaps and a stumbling time feel. "Stillness from 37,000 ft" (tk4), has a bass line that sounds out of sync. With its melody gradually building up steam, the two lines,  like a conversation, vie for their own space. "Two Dormant, One Active" (tk5) starts with a curious line reminding me of of a standard. This is not surprising, a few tracks later at "Take the A Train" (tk7), you also have the same reaction of "I know this tune, but ...?" Another tune that does this is "Hope Step the Lava Flow" (tk6) which is the closest you get to a regular tune with an almost walking bass line. Maybe it's this which makes the music so interesting. Themes and ideas develop, giving you food for your ears you listen intently, following the maze of notes that unravel. "Early Then, M.A." (tk2) and "Dancing Between Points" (tk8) could be called ballads, playing with time or tempo, and could be called - could one say - rhapsodic. They both use the piano's  full range to create lush chord sounds and rippling arpeggios.
 
This album will be a delight to anyone who enjoys melodic (modern) music that has a direction. On this record you get to hear a pianist developing ideas with no holds barred, creating music and pushing boundaries at the same time.

A quick note: Alexander Hawkins (and his Ensemble) released this album in tandem with "Step Wide, Step Deep", also released on Babel this year. As yet I haven't had time to listen to the ensemble record, but I notice there are a couple of titles which pass between the two albums. We'll keep you posted here on the blog in the next weeks for an update - the album looks very promising!

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Out on Intakt (Day 2 of 2)

Angelika Niescier - Alexander Hawkins - Soul In Plain Sight (Intakt, 2021) ****½

By Paul Acquaro

Germany based saxophonist Angelika Niescier and British pianist Alexander Hawkins share an intimate and explosive 52 minutes together on Soul in Plain Sight. The album, which was recorded after a series of concert dates last year in Europe was committed to tape (or hard-drive) at the somewhat legendary Loft in Cologne in September 2020. The music is a rich mix of improvisation and compositions. Most are credited to the duo, while "Un:Tamed", "Nexus" and "Tar'ai" are by Angelika Niescier and "Scops" and "As Hemispheres at Home" are by Alexander Hawkins, and "Arhythm Songy" is a track composed by Muhal Richard Abrams.

The album kicks off with a series of notes from the piano and then a quick run and squall from the saxophonist introduces the aptly titled 'Brawls and Squabbles'. After the explosive start, the two carry on in a dynamic choreograph of energetic enjoinders and punctuating phrases. The aforementioned 'Arhtym Songy' follows and is captivating as the two get into an ever accelerating centrifuge of melodic ideas.  The third track 'Why Don't You' takes the concise energy of the first track with the precision of the second and fuses it into an fascinating swirl of sound. The longest track, 'Nexus', begins with a jaunty be-bop influenced sax riff that intersects with some choice clipped chordal accompaniment before unrolling into a dynamic dialog comprised of syncopated phrases and  extemporaneous outpourings, while 'Metamorphose einer Karelle' is a lovely, dark hued ballad.

A rather stunning album that basically asks does 1 + 1 really equal 2? There is a hell of lot happening on Soul in Plain Sight.

Michael Formanek - Imperfect Measures (Intakt, 2021) *****

By Paul Acquaro

I think it was the long-COVID-year talking. Many artists had turned inward and developed solo projects due to the various social restrictions during the pandemic, and I thought for a moment that maybe I'd pass on bassist Michael Formanek's solo release Imperfect Measures. I suppose I was looking for something with 'more' instruments on it. In my minds eye, I see you already shaking your head at me, and you're right to do so: Imperfect Measures is absolutely riveting. Formanek delivers a performance that draws out all the gravitas and sonority from his upright bass possible and shares it generously with his listeners.

I am going to skip talking about the individual tracks, I think this is a really best considered as a single piece. I hear a painting, rich images arranged alluringly on a canvas, even though the work is composed of thick, boldly suggestive brush strokes. My ears readily fill in the details. It is these impressions (fill in your own, please!) that Formanek communicates through the hearty resonance of plucked and bowed tones. He builds musical structures full of rhythm, melody, and counter melodies that feel as complete and detailed as if there were a drummer, piano and saxophone at his side. 

Just wow.  

Broken Shadows - Broken Shadows (Intakt, 2021) ***½

By Stephen Griffith

Tim Berne likes to keep a lot of irons in the fire. Although Snakeoil relieved a long dry spell of the alto player not leading a working group, it was only a matter of time until his other interests started chafing for attention. While Berne, along with Marty Ehrlich, has carried the torch of his mentor Julius Hemphill for years, it's difficult for an alto player of this type of music not to be influenced by the fellow Fort Worth, Texas saxophonist, Ornette Coleman and his longtime tenor associate Dewey Redman. In fact Tim was one of three altoists playing Zorn’s thunderous thrash rock versions of Coleman’s music on Spy vs Spy on Tzadik in 1988. But Broken Shadows addresses a lot of empty spaces in the Berne oeuvre: playing cover versions, no rehearsals, no sheet music and short solos. Tenor player Chris Speed was in the mid 90's Bloodcount and very familiar with Berne's way of doing things (plus he often employs a big open Dewey Redman tone). The Bad Plus rhythm section, bassist Reid Anderson and drummer Dave King, have played together for 35 years so are obviously simpatico. So book some gigs in Brooklyn restaurants when schedules permit and see what happens.

What happened was obviously a success as they raced through the persistently appealing melodies and created instantly well crafted solos. Coleman’s songs have an almost immediate familiarity but a surprise on this recording is how well Hemphill’s “Body” fits in (a new version of “Dogon A.D.” is always welcome particularly with different instrumentation). If nothing else the Coleman songs remind the listener of the consistency of the quality of songwriting that seemed almost effortless. The songs were originally released as part of a vinyl subscription package by Newvelle Records in 2019. Thanks to Intakt for making it more widely and conveniently available.

Aki Takase, Christian Weber, Michael Griener - Auge (Intakt, 2021) ****

By Paul Acquaro

Apologies, you just read my colleagues take on Auge yesterday. Unthinkingly, I did not follow my own coordination efforts and also wrote about it. So, for better or worse ...

Berlin based pianist Aki Takase's musical styles and approaches is rather sweeping. She is inventive re-interpreter of classic styles of jazz, like her work with Fats Waller's music to the music of Eric Dolphy, as well her duos with her husband, pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach and so much more. Her music also can have a sly wink to it, often expressed by the blending of these different styles and approaches like for example, her duo with saxophonist Daniel Erdmann on the recent Isn't it Romantic (BMC, 2021). Anyway, here, with swiss bassist Christian Weber and German drummer Michael Griener, Takase explores the traditional piano trio set-up but with the idea that no one instrument is front and center. 

The opening track 'Last Winter' at first seems to both undermine and underscore this notion of equality. Takase's delicate piano introduction is front and center, with Weber and Griener offering subtle support. However, the piece wouldn't work as well with piano alone, the bassists counter melody lends important counterweight and the drums fill in the gaps. It's a short piece, and soon we are at 'Drops of Light' which kicks off with a rapidly percolating melody and rhythmic uncertainty. The piece thrives on the interactions between the trio - a figure introduced by Takase is reflected by Weber and refactored by Griener - and is lively a demonstration of their musical compatibility.  'Are Eyes Open' is a reminder of the humor and playfulness that ripples through Takase's music. The sunny melody, which seems straight forward quickly starts revealing quirks and then seemingly dies out. 'No Tears' is a rather stately ballad that would seem to be quite at home on an ECM recording,  with all three developing a somewhat shimmering but unsettling atmosphere. The 'Face of the Bass' is another fun one. Takase and Weber seems to be locked into a frantic, friendly melee of sorts. This one seems to be more freely improvised than the other lightly structured pieces, but it's actually quite hard to say what it and isn't composed as the musicians seems to be deeply in tune with each other.

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