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Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Han-earl Park. Sort by date Show all posts
Showing posts sorted by relevance for query Han-earl Park. Sort by date Show all posts

Sunday, January 28, 2024

Han-earl Park - Sunday Interview

1. What is your greatest joy in improvised music?

The pleasure of play is when people find of their place, make connections, negotiate, compromise, reevaluate, take ownership of their space and their actions. The ambiguity of action and reaction; the unknowability of connection.

The pleasure of play is when trust is a choice, and we choose to trust. When we don’t take each other for granted. When we are fully cognizant of the potential for violence and cruelty, but we choose to take compassion, affinity, consent, desire and agency seriously.

2. What quality do you most admire in the musicians you perform with?

It’s not one thing for me. It’s never one thing. What you bring to the stage is your humanity—messy, beautiful, dysfunctional, joyous, contradictory, mutable, stubborn, insecure, fractious, but also empathetic and compassionate.

Each musician is different, and each group is different. It’s good, I think, to be sensitive to who the group is, and what the group could be; to be open to what is possible, but cognizant of the differences and inequalities that exist in any ensemble.

3. Which historical musician/composer do you admire the most?

Today it’s Little Richard. (Ask me again tomorrow.)

4. If you could resurrect a musician to perform with, who would it be?

Sorry. I could only answer that with a cautionary piece of science fiction.

5. What would you still like to achieve musically in your life?

Over the last few years, I’ve been trying to find ways of refracting improvisative play through narrative tropes, forms and techniques. I’d like to see where this takes me.

I’ve been searching for a kind of poetic compression, maybe; working on forms that journey from parallel docks to narrative theater or film, maybe. I’m currently thinking of ways in which improvisative play might become a kind of acting—less autobiography, more embodiment, or a kind of personification.

And to find ways of doing this safely, with compassion and sensitivity.

6. Are you interested in popular music and - if yes - what music/artist do you particularly like

Of the recent music that’s caught my ear, I love the 100% distilled virtuosic mischief of Nova Twins. And then there’s the punk-disco of Gacharic Spin whose most recent album, W, is technicolor nuclear candy.

I’ve also been revisiting the Pet Shop Boys. I’ve been struck by their take on ‘Go West’ in particular—an AIDS-era piece that’s simultaneously sweet, triumphant and elegiac. It’s reminded me that political art, especially in difficult times, is often best presented with earnestness.

In terms of music that speak directly to my own practice right now, there’s Sine (check out their song ‘Don’t Know My Name’ for starters). If I played in a rock band, that would be the sound I would be aiming for. Sine reminds me a little bit of groups like Tackhead in terms of attitude and vibe. I’m bowled over by how they manage to leverage studio-based techniques into their music while retaining a kind of energetic jam-band sound.

7. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

Other than financial stability? I need to work harder on making sure that I consistently and correctly, in my speech, gender non-binary people.

8. Which of your albums are you most proud of?

Peculiar Velocities, I think, has some of my best playing. Or, maybe better: Catherine and Nick absolutely brought out the best playing from me. (Thank you!)

Juno 3: I can confidently say that it sounds like nothing else out there.

Of Life, Recombinant: Part of me is still surprised I managed to pull that off, and that it works as well as it does.

9. Once an album of yours is released, do you still listen to it? And how often?

Very, very, very rarely.

10. Which album (from any musician) have you listened to the most in your life?

Michael Jackson, Thriller. (Probably.)

11. What are you listening to at the moment?

Deadly Stares by Mellowdeath.

Catherine Sikora’s All My Winters.

Download both. (Thank me later.)

12. What artist outside music inspires you?

A lot of writers and film-makers. And increasingly so to the point where I don’t know if my interest in narrativity is fueled by these artists and their works, or if my compositional and improvisative concerns are making me seek a deeper connection with fiction and the telling of stories.

I was reading China Miéville’s short story collection, Three Moments of an Explosion, for example, while mixing Peculiar Velocities. And I think a big part of why I was able to keep focus on the drama and messiness and excitement of Eris’ performance on that recording was because I was taking that journey with Miéville’s fantastical, twisted, dark, deeply affectionate humanism.

I was on a flight watching Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite, and, at that mid-point-turn in the film, I knew—I knew immediately—what my next piece was going to be—its shape and its form, and the intended effect on the listener. It took me a few years, and a whole bunch of stuff on the cutting room floor (and the end result owed as much to Lynch as it did to Bong), but out of that came Of Life, Recombinant.

And I was reading N. K. Jemisin’s The City We Became while mixing Juno 3, and her book—her voice and her writing style—became a constant source of inspiration during that process. Certain techniques of writing, say, the way Jemisin evokes place and subjectivity and interiority (the people and places in her book feel so real to me—like I know them personally), would push me to do certain things with the mix. Jemisin’s book demonstrate to me what was possible, and how I might go about achieving those effects in sounded form.

Han-earl Park reviewed on the Free Jazz Blog:

Wednesday, May 6, 2026

Han-earl Park uᴉɐƃ∀ ʍǝN sI plO sI ʇɐɥM (Buster & Friends, 2026)







By Sammy Stein

Berlin-based Korean American guitarist and improviser Han-earl Park has released ‘uᴉɐƃ∀ ʍǝN sI plO sI ʇɐɥM’ (What is Old Is New Again), a collection of twenty-one solo miniatures recorded between January 2024 and February 2026. Most are first-take improvisations with minimal editing and production.

Park is associated with numerous projects, including, but not limited to, ensembles and duos Juno 3 with Lara Jones and Pat Thomas, and Gonggong 225088 with Yorgos Dimitriadis and Camila Nebbia, Richard Barrett, Wadada Leo Smith, Paul Dunmall, Pauline Oliveros, Charles Hayward, Mark Sanders, Lol Coxhill, Louise Dam Eckardt Jensen, Evan Parker, Ingrid Laubrock, Josh Sinton , and Franziska Schroeder, and a shedload more.

While the tracks are miniatures (as described by Park), they vary in length, some running for several minutes and others being shorter. What they have in common is Park’s touch of the bizarre, the explorative and various mechanizations of the guitar body and strings to create different soundscapes and atmospheres. The contrast between the numbers is impressive, and Park manages to find twenty-one slightly different ways to present an instrument. From the quirky, slightly thunky explorative open-fretted opener ‘All The Wrong Notes’ to the warpy, atmospheric ‘Drift After’ or the beautifully evocative ‘Bees on a Summer Day’ where the listener might conceivably feel as if they are inundated with little furry visitors of the apiaran kind in a grist, but not quite a swarm, as the notes plink and flip.

There are many highlights on this recording, from the overlapping melodies of ‘Footwork’ to the explorative ‘On The Way Out’ with its unexpected final phrases, and the wonderfully worked ‘The Zen of FWIW, Frustration,’ a retake of an earlier one-take work by Park (the FWIW is for What It’s Worth.)

‘Trash Fumble’ is wonderfully spooky and dark, with a frenetic ending, while tracks like ‘Scratch ‘n’ Sniff’ and ‘Coefficient of Friction/(Breathe, Just Breathe)’ contain contrasting rhythms, shaped phrases,, and in the latter track, Park uses the fourteen minutes of music to explore many facets of the guitar.

Of the title, Park says, “I don’t really want to be too explicit about the meaning—it’s probably my most didactic piece, which I don’t feel 100% comfortable about. It was recorded a few days after the ‘military action’ in Venezuela, and on January 6, the anniversary of the attempted self-coup in D.C., and the Star Spangled Banner runs both pro and retrograde through that piece. But do you think there’s a way -not- to spell that all out explicitly? None of it’s particularly hidden—or a secret—but I’d like listeners to come across it themselves.

The title came from a videographic piece recorded by Park for YouTube.

Over the eclectic mix of tracks, Park uses his music to convey a range of meanings, and the impact is varied, from the dark shades of ‘Grade Separation’ to ‘All You Zombies/Salvo and Echo’, where two guitar lines are interwoven to create chord-like essences.

There is the quietness of ‘Don’t Overthink It’ and the Latin elements that creep into ‘Envelope/Duo Minus-One’. The title track is beautiful, while the gloriously loud and gloopy ‘Oatmeal Again’ is crazily wonderful.

Park manages to give the track appropriate titles, as his artistry extends from the music through to the visual effects the sounds can have.

This is an album to listen to with intent and perhaps in parts because the intricacy and content need time to digest and imbibe. Listening to the entire recording feels like you might be glimpsing the relationship between Park and his guitar, one that is still developing and becoming ever more intricate and complex – a bit like the music.

Preorder available today on Bandcamp.



Original track from uᴉɐƃ∀ ʍǝN sI plO sI ʇɐɥM:
 

Sunday, March 10, 2024

Catherine Sikora - Sunday Interview

Catherine Sikora. Photo by Eric Mingus.

  1. What is your greatest joy in improvised music?

    Sometimes, when many factors (seemingly magically) align, when I am playing with people I trust and love, when my horns are behaving themselves, when I feel strong and the sound in the room is good, there is a feeling of transcendence to another place entirely, within the music. It feels to me like a different plane of consciousness, where everything is clear and bright and sparkly, my brain relaxes and I can express myself sonically with ease; that is a place of pure joy.

  2. What quality do you most admire in the musicians you perform with?

    My favorite musician collaborators are purely and authentically themselves, and are truly at ease in their own skin, and thus freely able to allow others in their presence to be the same. They are also generous listeners, who allow enough space for me to think.

  3. Which historical musician/composer do you admire the most?

    I have enormous admiration, love and respect for Coleman Hawkins, for the quantum leaps he made on the tenor saxophone.

  4. If you could resurrect a musician to perform with, who would it be?

    I would love to meet the first female artist who worked in sound, from ancient times, and play with her.

  5. What would you still like to achieve musically in your life?

    Everything! I don't necessarily feel that I have truly achieved anything yet; if a life's work is a sculpture, I see my work (to date) as being like tiny little scratches on one small section of the surface of the raw material—scratches that could be viewed as the start of an attempt at work, or possibly as accidental damages. Having said that, I do want to find a way to realize a substantial piece using a large ensemble of saxophones. But I still have so much to do, in terms of practice and working with my instrument. I wish I could find more time, just for that, as well as time to devote to composition.

  6. Are you interested in popular music and - if yes - what music/artist do you particularly like?

    I don't know much at all about popular music. I enjoy the music of The Roots, does that count?

  7. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

     I wish I were less serious, and could be lighter in my attitude to life.

  8. Which of your albums are you most proud of?

    I feel that All My Winters is the closest thing to a realization of a sound I set out to create, so in that sense I am most proud of it. It is just one relatively short track, but it is a concept I want to explore in a much larger way. Susan Alcorn and I have a duo recording coming out on Relative Pitch Records this month, and I love that recording, it has a very particular spaciousness and beauty about it. I am also very proud of the work I have made with Eris 136199.

  9. Once an album of yours is released, do you still listen to it? And how often?

    Rarely! The process of getting a thing ready for release involves so much listening that I hardly ever feel the need to revisit it later. If I do so, it is because I am deliberately looking for something in the recording.

  10. Which album (from any musician) have you listened to the most in your life?

    Probably Interstellar Space, John Coltrane and Rashied Ali. I went through a phase of listening to it every night when I went to bed, and did so for several months. I love that recording.

  11. What are you listening to at the moment?
     
    Coin Coin Chapter Five: In The Garden by Matana Roberts, as well as my own field recordings of coyotes from the high desert.

  12. What artist outside music inspires you?

    Issey Miyake! I adore his work, and one of the greatest joys in my life is to make clothing from his patterns.
Catherine Sikora on the Free Jazz Blog:

Thursday, May 12, 2022

Han-earl Park (박한얼) - Of Life, Recombinant (New Jazz And Improvised Music Recordings, 2021)

By Lee Rice Epstein

We’ve covered guitarist Han-earl Park (박한얼) extensively, and he remains one of the foremost innovators on the instrument. Recently, Park released Of Live, Recombinant, which is the first long-form solo recording in his discography. With a rich variety of recordings already available (including a really excellent duo album with Paul Dunmall on saxes and bagpipes and a couple of recent albums featuring the stellar Eris 136199 trio, with Catherine Sikora and Nick Didkovsky), it’s like discovering a new galaxy in Park’s universe.

Think of Park as an artist like George Lewis, whose work reflects decades of study and reflection on modes of expression and models of economic distribution. In this way, Of Life, Recombinant tells multiple stories at once, opening up a wide aperture and displaying stunningly drawn vistas. The four-song suite makes for a fantastic headphone album, as small details invite your attention ever more deeply throughout. In conversations about the album, David Lynch has recurred as a touchpoint, and Andrei Tarkovsky might be another one for listeners. The fugue-like state is but one-layer of Park’s suite. As they progress, “Game: Mutation,” “Naught Opportune,” “Are Variant,” and the 30-minute “Of Life, Recombinant” continually pitch one direction, pivot on multiple axes, and branch out in new directions. That’s true as much for the sonics—with pre-recorded material mixed and matched over itself—as it is for the emotional throughlines, in some cases leading listeners down long corridors of chilly anticipation, in others playing up the subtle intimacy of quiet tones. If any of that sounds vague or like descriptions are being kept at an arm’s length, that’s largely because the album very deliberately establishes a direct connection with each listener. Overdetermining any one person’s interaction with Of Life, Recombinant feels like a disservice to Park’s mission, which seems to point towards using the guitar, in all its guises, to establish a direct connection with the audience, allowing—much like Lynch and Tarkovsky—the listener’s subconscious to write its own associations and unearth what’s hidden within. And unmistakably, Park’s guitar is itself a treasure chest of delights—long, thrilling sections of beauty fold into chilly, dread-inducing dreamscapes, each of which will enchant and delight in equal measure.

Available on CD or digitally


Friday, May 24, 2024

Han-earl Park, Yorgos Dimitriadis and Camila Nebbia – Gonggong 225088 (Waveform Alphabet, 2024)

By Fotis Nikolakopoulos

What is absolutely inspiring with improvised or semi-improvised musics, is that you may be aware of the sounds the players have produced in the past, but you can never easily guess what this new interaction will bring. Probably this is where this great divide between many rock and pop music’s fans, who expect the “best” and most technically perfect version of same pieces, while the much smaller audience of improvised musics is happy to be puzzled by what will come next.

This is certainly the case when it comes to the trio of Han-earl Park in electric guitar, Camila Nebbia on the saxophone and Yorgos Dimitriadis on the drums and electronics. Their music never ceases to create new questions; their audio palette broadens with every new listen. Park’s use of –in extended passages throughout this recording- electronics creates atmospheres that tend to overpass the more natural and organic sounds coming from acoustic instruments, the drums and the sax this time. Within this electronic sound field, Nebbia and Dimitriadis never fail to join and create a parallel, more jazzy (but what is jazz, anyway, nowadays) audio world.

Once the guitar joins in the fragmental, percussion nature (from the Topography of the Lungs “tradition”) of it, makes Park a decisive addition to Dimitriadis playing, whose polyrhythmic, emotional give and take approach, creates small snippets of percussion sounds. Nebbia’s sax never tries to saturate the others (as such an instrument can do) but, willingly, follows and goes along in a -sometimes threefold, other times a duo- dialogue between the players.

Short, low energy passages from the sax are followed by energetic playing on the drums, while Park is taking advantage on the ambivalent nature of his amplified instrument to create, all of them together, a sound world that incorporates, at the same time, the electronic nature of the guitar with the more fluid and down to earth sounds of the sax and the drums.

On Gonggong 225088’s Bandcamp page the trio is noted as producing, a threesome entity, the music. I cannot find a better, more laconic way, in describing this fine recording of collective playing.

Listen here:


@koultouranafigo

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Han-earl Park, Dominic Lash, Mark Sanders, Caroline Pugh - Sirene 1009 (Buster and Friends 2017) ****½


By David Menestres

Sirene 1009 is a newish band featuring Han-earl Park (guitar), Dominic Lash (double bass), Mark Sanders (drums), and Caroline Pugh (voice and tape recorder). Their first album is being released at the end of January through Park’s Buster and Friends label. If you don’t want to read the rest of this review, the short version is: buy this disc. Now.

There are few bands that cross as much territory as this one does. From thrashing, spastic aggressive riffs that put most punks to shame to explorations of the quietest of spaces in-between thoughts, Sirene 1009 is a fierce, adventurous band that goes where most bands don’t: into the unknown, fearlessly in search of the new.

Park’s guitar is a central component of Sirene 1009’s sound, sounding less like a typical guitar and more like the inner monologue of a cyborg slowly coming to terms with having a consciousness. Lash’s bass provides a firm counter-point to the proceedings. Rarely assuming a traditional support role, making extensive use of what many would consider extended techniques (though they are such a normal part of Lash’s arsenal it seems strange to refer to them as extended), and a wonderful sense of dynamics Lash is a supremely engaged participant. Sanders drums like an octopus, one with great ears and extraordinary taste, squeezing through the gaps left by the other members. At times, it is almost incomprehensible that he only has four limbs.

Despite the excellent contributions of the other three, the stand out star is Caroline Pugh. Vocals in free music are notoriously difficult to pull off successfully, perhaps more so than any other instrument. Her vocalizations run the gambit from simple syllabic squeaks to animalish noises to full sentences. Pugh is radically aware of the microphone and how her voice interacts with it. Her tape recorder/electronics are used rarely (I think) but to great effect, most obviously in “Cliodynamics II.” A veritable master class of what the human voice can contribute to this kind of music.

My favorite tracks are the middle three, “Cliodynamics I-III”, which, together with “Hopeful Monsters,” was recorded live at the venerable Cafe Oto in London. The first and last tracks were recorded in a studio in Birmingham.

Don’t expect the band to hold your hand. There isn’t any way off once they take flight. Go along for the ride. If you bail out mid-flight you’ll just end up another D.B. Cooper, lost to time, never to be found again.

Pre-orders come with an equally interesting, through fairly different, album. Kuramoto Synchronization features the trio of Park, Lash, and Pugh. Recorded live at University College Cork, this album alone is worth the price of Sirene 1009. Think of it as a twofer: two great albums for the price of one. An exquisite exploration of space, time, nightmares, and dreamscapes. I like this one even more than I like Sirene 1009.

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Han-Earl Park - Anomic Aphasia (SLAM, 2015) ****

By Paul Acquaro

Guitarist Han-Earl Park's Anomic Aphasia features two different trios, revolving around the duo of the himself and saxophonist Catherine Sikora. One configuration features the work of guitarist Nick Didkovsky, a distinctly different guitarist than Park, and the other the deep register woodwinds of Josh Sinton.

The album clocks in at a generous 71 minutes, and none of it is wasted. Starting with the 20 minute 'Monopod' with the cast of Sikora, Park and Didkovsky, things are off to a (briefly) squeaky start, then track begins in earnest, with the tenor sax's free form melody cutting through the slashing tones of the guitars. What starts brittle, grows tough and dense. The 'conversation' between the sax and the guitars is intense at times, and at other times tender. Generally speaking, Park tends to be more atmospheric while Didkovsky is more biting.

The track 'Pleonasm' features the trio of Sinton, Sikora and Park. The rich tones of Sinton's baritone sax and bass clarinet contrast nicely with Sikora's vivacious playing on the tenor and soprano saxes. The track begins with Park's minimalist approach - he employs a vocabulary of textures and taut phrases as the saxes reply with staccato bursts of melodic runs. The song, like the others, is abstract but there is something at the nexus of the trio's playing that remains accessible and captivating.

'Stopcock' is the long burning closer to the album. Back to Sikora, Park and Didkovsky, the trio delivers a fascinating performance that starts with arpeggios and rhythmic picking lending a somewhat metal feel to the introduction. The two guitars play in parallel for a while - some time reaching agreement, other times in friendly competition. When Sikora joins, she delivers a vigorous melody that pulls the track together.

Between the four musicians, Anomic Aphasia is a great set of free jazz trio work. Every twist and turn, scrape, squeak and melodic idea contributes to this adventurous and exciting recording.

Be teased here ...



Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Solo Guitar

By Paul Acquaro

I've been toting around a sizable library of music for a while now. My plan is always the same, commit some words to paper the screen about all of them. Ahh, plans. Now, I'm staring at a near insurmountable list of to-reviews. It is time to make some progress. So to begin somewhere, I'm going to start by focusing on one my favorite instruments, the guitar. But even doing this is daunting, and it's obvious that I'll need to sub-divide ... I will begin with solo guitar recordings, and we'll see how the future shapes up...

Dom Minasi - Remembering Cecil (Unseen Rain, 2019) ****


I think I've been carrying New York based guitarist Dom Minasi's album, dedicated to Cecil Taylor, in my pocket on a device of some sort for nearly a year. In this time I've actually gone through three devices - one took too long of a swim in a not-as-waterproof-as-advertised dry bag as I was kayaking, the other was a temp device with a pre-cracked screen that simply got worse and worse, until I got my latest gadget. But, I digress. The point here is that Minasi's album is one that I've become attached to. It was recorded not long after Taylor passed away, and on it, the guitarist allows the great improviser's influence shine through in naked, revealing light. 

A concert or an album by Cecil Taylor was an outpouring of emotive melody and rhythm. The one and only time I was able to see him perform was the final concert at the Whitney Museum, and as frail as he was at the time, his music was still commanding and percussive. A famous quote from Taylor in fact compared a piano keyboard to 88 tuned drums, and compared Minasi, over the course of four improvised tracks, captures the relentless and effusive spirit of Taylor, but on just his six strings. Minasi's playing captures the tonal clusters, the intense bursts, and the moments of gentle melody, in general he reflects the velocity of sound that would emit from Taylor. The melody that evolves on 'Improv 3' is a real highlight, clear lines that seem to almost grasp the outlines of forming thoughts, but slowly grow more solid at the track progresses. As a contrast, there is the opening of moments of 'Improv 1' which is pretty much pure energy. The notes themselves take backseat to the flow of energy. 


Harvey Valdes - Solitude Intones its Echo (Destiny, 2019) ****½


That's a hell of a title for the album. It totally makes sense, but please don't expect me to be able to explain it. Isn't that the power of a good title? What comes wrapped inside is even better. A collection of 18 short tracks that ooze with sophisticated melodies and thought through skeletal harmonic scaffolding. 

Valdez plays an unusual Teuffel Tesla guitar, a seven string electric with a set of electronics that capture and re-create ambient sounds that were once 'natural' to the electric guitar, like the buzz or crackle of the pickups. However, these are adornments to the sound, which at its core is a rich array of contrapuntal chord melodies that immediately pull at emotional strings. Valdes' technique is an impeccable approach that mixes styles. For example, the classical track 'You See' contrasts with the a-rhythmic bounce of 'Crooked' and that with the nervous pluck of 'The Second Points the Way'. Each song has a personality of its own, but all fit into the family. Many of the tracks begin deliberately, asking the listener to hangout on for a moment, before unfolding its beauty ... kind of like a time lapse video of a flower blooming. 

The moments and emotions that Valdes is able to capture in these short vignettes is rather remarkable. It's an album that should be savored, best listen to slowly.


Han-earl Park - Two+ Bagatelles (2019) ***½


How best to begin? Han-earl Park's guitar playing has been fascinating to me since I first saw him play at show years ago at now defunct studio on Douglas Street in Brooklyn. If I recall correctly, he had a square bodied guitar that seemed to be somewhat modified, but moreover, his playing was unusually expressive. I cannot recall much else from the show at this point, except for the guitar playing. On Two+ Bagatelles, this same musical spirit that has stuck with me for so long, has been captured. 

The tracks, 'Zero', 'One', and 'Two' are improvised explorations. 'Zero' is basically an opening salvo, a chord, silence, buzzy shards of sound. 'One' begins with a nervous pulse that sets the template for the track. It's a propulsive theme, a bit single minded, but at the same time very effective. The pulsations give way to slashing, which reveal numerous overtones, harmonics, and buzzes. The patterns evolve too, as the track progresses, overtones and abrupt rhythmic figures become set, only to then spawn new ideas. 'Two' is much different. Park is modulating and shaping the notes themselves. Each one is cut short, melodies becoming almost like the sounds of an 8-bit shower. Like the previous track, the form evolves but the approach remains set. 

The short recording (approx. 16 minutes) is available through the Bandcamp store of the venerable London venue the Vortex. Purchase of the recording benefits the club. Park has another group project on the horizon as well.


Olaf  Rupp - Fuzzy Logic (Audiosemantics, 2020) ****


I have an acquaintance in Berlin who, at every show in which guitarist Olaf Rupp plays, says something to effect of "if there is one great injustice it is that Olaf Rupp is not world famous. But on the other hand, we get to hear him play two feet away from us in this little club." So, I guess I'll be selfishly thankful, and then do what I can to help.

Fuzzy Logic is an album of solo electric guitar improvizations that, like the title implies, falls outside being neatly defined. On his Bandcamp site Rupp writes: "I knew even then that this music will be ripped apart by many: the jazzers will say "that's just distorted noise", the Echtzeitmusik-people will once again nag at all those minor chords and the indie rock fans will shake their heads in vain looking for the beat. But unrootedness is also a power, a gift, a way." It's a good description really, the music has discernible structures - there are indeed chords and certain rooted elements, but then there is all of this fuzz that threatens to pull it all apart at any given time. 

The opening track 'Insolent Coagulation' is a perfect example, beginning with fuzzed out drones, it leads to a slashing of harmonics and a minimalist accretion of notes. A mixture of percussive striking at the strings is followed by finger-picked swell of chord tones. The swell becomes a wave, breaking before they hit the shore. The title track shares some similar sonic elements, but here the sound heaves forward, before splintering into tubular sounding fragments. But no matter how out the sounds go, the guitar's sounds and shape is very present and integral in the music.


Alex Ward - Frames (Relative Pitch, 2020) ****


British clarinetist Alex Ward's had been cultivating an alter-ego as a rock guitarist, until encouraged by Steve Noble, he brought the guitar into the free improvization setting in the N.E.W trio. His concept and approach to the guitar has been advancing ever since. 

Frames is his first solo recording on the instrument (proceeded by his first solo clarinet album Proprioception in 2017). Releasing a solo album suggests that you have confidence in your voice on your instrument, and listening to Frames, this is obviously the case. Ward's approach touches extremes, from spacious, angular melodies to fierce stomping chords, sometimes even working in concert as they do on the composition 'Staunch / At The End'. His electric guitar sound is often clean, with an edgy tone, it teeters on the edge of overdrive and often falls into it.

The recording starts off the with stop-start melodic fire balls. Ward links tonal clusters through short runs of single notes. It is not random, however. There is a method behind the music, and whether its composed or not does not matter, there has been much preparation before steeping into the studio. The next track, 'Frames', on the other hand seems much more composed. There is a deliberateness to both the tempo and the contrast between chords - unusual dissonances then relatively harmonious passages - that belie the thinking that went into the track. 'Allegreo Apprensivo' seems like yet another approach. It feels like the track is unfolding, almost discovering itself through rapidly juxtaposed passages. 

Give it a listen, Frames is a really strong statement from Ward.

Eric Mingus - Fog of Forgiveness (Evil Fruit, 2019) ***½


The Bandcamp site for multi-instrumentalist Eric Mingus states "The album consists of guitar improvisations, solo voice recordings that variously recall field hollers and sound poetry, and multi-tracked, harmonic-rich vocal drone pieces.", so I'll approach it from the solo guitar angle, at least at first. The album begins with 'Mist Rolls In', which features a thin, lightly amplified electric guitar. The track is contains a rough melody, perhaps sketched out before hand. This is followed by two vocal tracks, the first rather fascinating as Mingus uses grunts and the like, and the next more vocal-oriented, evocative with blues and folk overtones. 'Where the Water Meets the Air' is back to the solo guitar, where Mingus relies on rhythmic feel to carry the track. The approach to the guitar is not about precision or correctness, rather it seems to be about a feeling, like a poem where the words are meant to work on emotion, so do these short tracks, be it through the electric guitar, or vocals, or a little of both like the holy drone of 'Vox Un Humana.' 


Sandy Ewen - You Win (Gilgongo , 2020) ***½


Sandy Ewen's guitar playing leans in the direction of soundscaping, or maybe even sculpting, as she likes to incorporate non-guitar related items into her music. The opening moments of her solo album's title track verges on the aurally painful - there is a high pitch drone that pans from left to right while static crackles from within. It's a sound with a physical shape - you can hear the structural support, as small balls of sound roll around like a roulette wheel. Electronic beeps, from a medical equipment nightmare, lurk around the edges, until they begin dissolving into the static as well. Later in the track, the beeps have become ghosts, and the vibration of a strings, its tone bending, filling this aural but visual plane. The next track 'Virginia Creeper', as you may have guessed, creeps. Small, visceral crinkles and a vibrating undertone keep the tension going, eventually drawing to a conclusion. 

Each track of You Win is a sculpture. In fact, Ewen calls one of the tracks 'Serra', which most likely refers to the sculptor Richard Serra whose often out-sized works consist of thick industrial sheet metal bent into arcs and spiral forms. Like these forms, Ewen's sound sculptures take on a single idea at a time and bend everything around them. An unusual work that sounds nothing like a guitar, yet is made by guitar, somewhere deep within.

Releases April 24th


Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Catherine Sikora, Ian Smith, Han-earl Park - Cork 04-04-11 (Bandcamp, 2012) ***½

By Tom Burris

An improv gig is a gamble by definition, relying primarily on the mood and temperament of the musicians, individually as well as collectively.  Thankfully, this hour-long performance, which gels far more often than falls apart or searches for cohesion, was captured for those of us not in attendance to enjoy.  The set begins tentatively, but starts to flow after just a couple of minutes when Han-Earl Park begins to pull the group together with bowed drones and arhythmic picks on his guitar.  Catherine Sikora picks up the call and starts playing full, purposeful runs on her sax that take the lead while Ian Smith contributes muted trumpet splatters.  Suddenly, Park’s guitar rises and falls w/ quick figures via the use of a volume pedal, simultaneously taking the lead away from Sikora and leading the group to another place.

The performance’s centerpiece, “Red Line Speed,” best represents the trio’s interplay and dynamics.  There is a moment where you’d swear you were listening to a Sonny Rollins and Derek Bailey duet.  Smith plays spastic trumpet figures with a mute, while Sikora plays fluid lines and Park darts in between them.  Smith plays a short solo of hissing sounds.  My favorite moment occurs when Smith sounds like a drunken bumblebee & Sikora plays spiral figures as if she’s waving her arms, shooing him away.  Then Park appears with sonic smacks, clumsily chasing the bee with an oar.  When the piece comes to an abrupt end, amid trilling saxophone, muted trumped, and guitar smears, it sounds like they ripped a peanut butter sandwich apart and smashed it back together with the captured bee inside.

Park is especially adept at steering the group down side streets they might have otherwise ignored and utilizes simple techniques to arrive at unique sounds, such as sticking a piece of metal between the guitar strings & then finger-picking to approximate an alien banjo.  Sikora is often the anchor of the trio, grounding them in traditional sonic terrain while playing every bit as imaginatively as the more unconventional Smith and Park.  Smith frequently surprises with blurts and burps in one second, and full open tones in the next.  He also utilizes the mute as often as not.

Of course, it’s the build-up that makes the magical moments exciting; but those lulls are never a long wait as there is a new surprise around nearly every corner throughout this often fascinating performance.

Download:
http://hanearlpark.bandcamp.com

Musician links:
http://www.catherinesikora.com
http://www.efi.group.shef.ac.uk/musician/msmithi.html
http://www.busterandfriends.com

© stef

Monday, December 16, 2013

Catherine Sikora, Han-earl Park, Francois Grillot - Tracks in theDirt (Clockwork Mercury Press, 2013) ****

By Paul Acquaro

Saxophonist Catherine Sikora's playing is not predictable, you never know where a line, or even the instrument's tone may go, and she knows how to use it to create captivating sounds. Tracks in the Dirt, a recent improvised collaboration with guitarist Han-earl Park and bassist Francois Grillot, exemplifies this restless experimentation. The recording is an enjoyable listen for open ears.

The opening track, 'Helix' contains some of my favorite moments of the recording. Sikora's soprano sax sounds like it is drawing a line from each hit of the bass, with Park coloring in the spaces between. Park, with whom she also released Cork 04-04-11, is an understated and sympathetic accompanist throughout. 

Feel the force of Sikora's playing too - halfway through the second track, 'The Chopping Block' her soprano is clear and cutting, the melodic lines spinning and swirling around Park's textures and Grillot's rhythmic pulse. 

The last track, 'Afternoon Song', begins with the ambient rustling of Parks prepared guitar (my assumption), that almost sounds like the chirping of birds. As his presence deepens, the sound of the sax and thawk of the bass, in and out if time, in-sync with abstract notions grows stronger. In these opening moments we are reminded of the chance encounters and smart musical ideas that make this recording so effective. 

Check it out on Bandcamp - take your time - it's worth it:


As a side note, also on the Bandcamp site is the album 'Lullaby for the Wolves', a collaboration with drummer Ziv Ravitz. Sikora sticks to tenor on this muscular duo recording:




Tuesday, March 25, 2025

Juno 3 - Proxemics (Buster and Friends, 2025)

By Sammy Stein

Han Earl Park, Pat Thomas, and Lara Jones need little introduction to fans of alluring, free music but for those not familiar with them, Park is an improvising musician who specializes in guitar and percussive music. He is a shapeshifter of a musician, a chameleon who transfers easily from beautiful passages to discordant ruminations. His music is joyful, energetic, and packed with rhythm patterns as changeable as they are engaging. He has performed with Lol Coxhill, Wadado Leao Smith, Mark Sanders, Evan Parker, and more.

Lara Jones is an experimental producer, DJ, saxophonist, keyboardist, and lyricist, who creates high-energy music and has worked with fellow artists in various ensembles and formats. Her music transcends genres, and Jones refuses to be boxed in by genres or gender definitions.

Pat Thomas began playing classical piano as a child but switched to jazz in his teenage years. Renowned for his intense, amorphic music, Thomas is an inspiration for improvising musicians. He was integral to the Black Top Project with Orphy Robinson and has performed with Hamid Drake, William Parker, John Butcher, and many others.

Park, Jones, and Thomas are Juno 3, and on Proxemics they demonstrate the achievements of a trio in live performance with intrinsic skills in listening, playing, and collaborating. The album was recorded live during the trio’s performance at London’s Cafe OTO for the EFG London Jazz Festival in November 2023.

The music is in two parts, ‘Derealization’ and ‘Proxemis’ respectively representing two sets performed at Oto. Each track, let alone six-track set, feels like an exploration into different ways guitar, sax, piano, and electronics can be melded in an improvised performance.

From the screeching eeriness created in ‘Derealization I’ where vaguely connected electronic harmonic runs give way on occasion to melodic, then non-so melodic interjections from the sax, there are themes, counter-themes and an exchange of ideas, often thrown down by Thomas for the others to reflect – albeit changed. This pattern is further explored in ‘Derealization II’, III, IV, with added melodic lines from the guitar in V and VI. Spot the opening of a melody from an old sixties track (Popcorn) in Realization II that sits alongside current, visceral electronic sounds for the briefest moment and then relish the simple melodies that interact with complex, guttural squawks, whistles, engine noises and vaguely harmonically linked lines from sax and guitar.

The ’Proxemics’ set is more intense and power-driven than the ‘Derealization’ set. ‘Proxemics I’ sees the energy building as quartets of chords chase across the background, while gentle guitar notes weave their way into and out of the sound. There is a set rhythm pattern for most of the track, under and over which the improvisers weave different, yet connected sounds. Proxemics II develops the exploration further, and Proxemics III introduces another dimension – rivulets of sound that fall from the keys, keynotes held by the sax, and the guitar deftly filling the gaps, like splashes from the pool. The quietude of the second third is dispelled as the instruments crash in to take the sounds up and loud.

The music is challenging in places–visceral with confronting rhythms and keys that merge – almost–before veering off in different directions, creating a sense of clashing ideas, yet a willingness also to (eventually) end up on the same musical path.

It is music for the open-minded and at times, the tonality is so jarring that it takes the listener somewhere else, only to be brought back to the present by a snippet of melody or harmonic progressions before another clash of sounds impacts the brain and the mist descends again.

These three musicians know what they are doing – the sound is integrated, yet audacious, swashbuckling yet provocative. This is improved music as it should be live and played well.

Park says of the recording, “During the mix, I came to realize this unapologetically unrefined music was probably unreleasable, but I also came to love it more for being delicate as a slab of granite.”

I think Park missed something, for hidden amongst the power, energy, and intensity, there is a delicate beauty that exists in all truly improvised music.

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Catherine Sikora, Ian Smith, Han-earl Park - Cork 04-04-11 (Bandcamp, 2012) ****

By Philip Coombs

There is almost always one enigmatic person at every gathering, whether it be a bar, venue, or house party. Inevitably, there is an expert storyteller there as well. With any luck, it happens to be the same person. These rare folk have the ability to spin a tale you have possibly heard before but can retell it with such clarity that you are captivated or better yet hypnotized. They can give you a new understanding of something you thought you already knew. This is a beautiful power and an ability that is rare to possess.

Catherine Sikora is such a person/player. She has a clean and colorful voice that could read me my autobiography and still have me in suspense.

Sikora and trumpeter Ian Smith, both Irish, are joined by American guitarist Han-earl Park to complete this trio for a night in Cork, a night that was fortunately recorded for this release.

Topologically Correct Harry, starts the album on a timid, feeling out sort of an arrangement with Smith and Sikora not being overly committal. Park stays low key and adds a percussive element to the proceedings. There is something really refreshing about a trio allowing silence to be their forth member. Sikora is in such control of her saxophone, as every note has a purpose, every note an adjective.

The main story on the recording is track three. Clocking in at almost 25 minutes, Red Line Speed, is, to continue a theme here, the Shakespearian tragedy of the album. It starts with the chatter of a couple sitting at a table close to one of the microphones. The guitar comes in but the conversation continues in the background. Park changes up his percussive touch and somehow gets his guitar to sound like a tuba of sorts. The trumpet is next, adding to the subplot. By the time Sikora joins in, the stage has been set for quite the journey.

The track builds slowly with no lack of intensity until the half way point when both Park and Smith drop out and let Sikora have her monologue. She effortlessly takes away the familiar tone and replaces it with nothing more than the air that she breathes, until there is nothing. Even the chatter of the patrons have stopped. Then out of nowhere comes a cry from the saxophone. A cry for help, a cry to let us know that it didn't end as badly as we thought. The others jump in to help and push the track to its conclusion. This number really is an experience to remember and worth every minute of dedication it takes to hear it in one sitting.

A wonderful gem of a recording.

© stef

Saturday, January 30, 2021

Han-earl Park, Catherine Sikora and Nick Didkovsky - Eris 136199: Peculiar Velocities (baf, 2020) ****

 

By Paul Acquaro
 
In the blurb on Bandcamp about Eris 136199: Peculiar Velocities the word ‘glitchy’ is used to describe the work of the trio of guitarists Han-earl Park and Nick Didkovsky with saxophonist Catherine Sikora. It is an apt word, as Park has an approach that is as much electronic impulses as it is human touch. Didkovsky too is a musician with a deep knowledge of computer programming but whose playing skews towards the heavier end of the music spectrum. Together the pair create an unusual foundation for Sikora's tuneful saxophone work.

The first track, ’Ballad of Tensegrity I’, is a masterful slice of trifurcated dialog. Park leans in on the lower octaves, deploying grunting tonal bursts, while Didkovsy provides atmospherics and harmonic ideas. The two act as a rhythm section for Sikora who weaves a sinuous melody throughout. The music takes turns at being haunting, gracious and grating. The next track ‘Ballad of Tensergrity II’ follows after an abrupt ending and carries on in a similar manner. By track three, ‘Peculiar Velocities I’, the guitars have adopted a slightly different aesthetic, using choppy, brittle sounds, they lay down a fractured soundscape replete with sonic barbs and suspended tones. Sikora finds her footing on this shifting ground and plays freely. As the track continues into ‘Peculliar Velocities II’ the fascinating part is realizing how connected the three actually are: this is not parallel play, rather it connects deep in the sub-systems. 

’Sleeping Dragon’, the next track, takes a different tack. Here, the guitars are in agreement and they create a tensile, scratchy film that only at the half-way mark does Sikora start to skewer. Her tone cuts like an exacto-blade, a thin, purposeful slice that is almost imperceptible at first. The slice begins to open up further, as Didkovsky begins to shadow the saxophone. “D-Loop I”, which comes at the middle of the album, begins with Sikora, whose intervallic introduction is complimented with a droning guitar tone. It becomes difficult to distinguish the two at times. The track changes direction as Park (I believe) takes a lawnmower like approach and overtakes the track. Sikora fights back and the track pulls together towards a energetic peak. 

There is more, but I leave this to you, hungry listeners, to discover as there is a lot to chew on in Eris 136199: Peculiar Velocities. Whether you are interested in a straight forward melodic approach, noisy electronic mists of sound, or the fantastic combination of it all, the trio delivers at just the right time. 
 

Thursday, December 13, 2018

The latest from Catherine Sikora

By Fotis Nikolakopoulos

Catherine Sikora / Brian Chase – Untitled: After (Chaikin Records, 2018) ****


Τhere’s a reason i’m not so eager to meet artists I appreciate and love their work in person. It is the fear of disappointment, of meeting someone who doesn’t live up, as a person, to his or hers work. Agree or disagree, I do not see any artist as a special human being, but rather as someone who can contribute to the way a better society could be built.

Having met Catherine Sikora through the sometimes wonderful networks on the internet, I must say that her music reflects the impressions she gives as a human being: a feeling of warmth and cordiality. Her instrument of choice, the saxophone, is, even in 2018, another reminder of the patriarchy that dominates the western world- also in arts. To cut a long story short, in reality, we need more women making music (and treated as equals of course) today.

Brian Chase’s music trajectory is a rare one. Back in my indie rock days I was very fond of his most well known group, the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s. He has participated in other formations and groupings of this word that does not come up very often in this blog ( meaning rock…), but now it seems that his main focus (also through his own Chaikin Records) is the ever expanding universe of improvisational music.

Untitled: After, the second release from Chaikin Records, is a cd collectively made by the two. It successfully combines the more melodic, even bluesy approach of Sikora (in tracks like 'So' and 'Ice Clad') with the energetic playing of Chase who also uses cymbals a lot as a way, maybe, of devaluating rock’s clichés. The first track, 'Death', is a free jazz give and take between the two, were a very energetic and rich dialogue takes place: passionate sax lines with free drumming. The second track, 'Dear As He Was', is more intimate, like it’s title, and sees the two musicians follow parallel but very similar ways, reminding me the wonderful 70’s collaborations of Max Roach and Archie Shepp. 'On Hand To Hand' we listen to the only track of the album -maybe as a clear antithesis to their intentions- that each of them follows his and hers way. On 'Brightly Forged', Sikora’s circular breathing is accompanied by an ascension of playful improvisational drumming.

Untitled: After is pretty enjoyable and moving. Through a trajectory of not so wild but intense collective improvisational gestures they make their way abolishing their egos. This way is paved by a sax (mostly tenor but also a soprano) that illustrates a balance between melody and improv lines, while on the drum set we listen Chase who clearly uses his, from many different sources gained, skills for the collective outcome.



Catherine Sikora /Christopher Culpo – The Spectral Life of Things (Sikora-Culpo, 2018)
****1/2




My problem, as a listener, with jazz pianists is that they tend to dominate a recording or, at least, that they require more room to breathe as soloists. On this, recorded in Paris on April 2017, duo this is definitely not the case.

Catherine Sikora on the saxophone and Christopher Culpo on the piano present us a recording which is open to interactions and operate clearly by being responsive to one another’s gestures and, sometimes, musical provocations. Flexible sax melodies flow in a parallel way with ethereal piano chords. They possess the warmness of a late 50’s post bop atmosphere. But this is not even close to a tribute performance or a way to give praise to any great master.

Full of new compositions (I wonder if they all were recorded in one take) they have the urgency of an improvisation but, at the same time, they appear to be a fully realized idea in both minds. The summation of their efforts is a collective one. Each track contains small challenges put from one artist to the other. In a playful mood these challenges tend to pose questions that both of them do not intend to give clear answers. They prefer to leave that to the listener.

The music is a constant flow of notes and melodies built from solos that are followed by strong collective playing. A linear trajectory of musical gestures that provide no pauses for the listener (i really liked that) with the compositional and more structured moments overcoming the improvisational mood. But it’s those improv parts of the recording that add up to the exploratory final result.

I pretty much enjoyed and got stimulated by this great recording (one of my favorites for 2018) that I have to nag a little…The medium of the cassette (with only 100 copies made), always prone to wearing down, is unsuitable for The Spectral Life Of Things, which is a demanding recording in need to be listened over and over for numerous times.



Han-earl Park, Catherine Sikora and Nick Didkovsky - Eris 136199 (Busterandfriends, 2018) ****


Han-earl Park is a guitarist and an improviser who calls himself a constructor. When listening to his recordings of the guitar (or should I say his fragments of guitar sounds?), this description sounds quite accurate and not at all exaggerated. By trying to describe his music another term came to my mind: flexibility. Following a tradition of guitar improvisers that dismantled the rock guitar solo pose by turning the instrument into something much more elastic and introverted (hail, hail Derek Bailey), he seems very open to collaborations.

This time, he teams up with Sikora’s tenor saxophone and the metallic sounds of Nick Didkovsky’s guitar. Two guitars and a saxophone might seem as a muscular pair but definitely – but thankfully -it is not. Even though the saxophone struggles from time to time to be heard behind the feedback and noise of two roaring guitars, this is a recording based on multidimensional timbres and atmosphere.

Surely different from the other two Sikora recordings in this feature, we hear a sax that many times, like in 'Therianthropy III', tries to keep (struggles as I already mentioned) with the velocity of electricity. The four part suite, 'Therianthropy', that opens the album is a constant battle of metallic guitar sounds and the organic feel of the saxophone. Mind you though, what you listen is the result of like-minded improvisers who try to find their way through collective thinking and playing.

The three part 'Adaptive Radiation' that follows right up resembles a free jazz blow out from time to time, leading up to a catharsis that mellows out the jagged guitar chords and skronky sax lines. Sikora’s sax instills melody to the recording. After listening repeatedly to her recordings I clearly see a musician who fears not taking risks and blurring her image as an improviser. The two guitarists are, as I have not heard so much of their past recordings, a welcome entry to my favorites list. They present themselves as totally open to new paths and they are quite receptive to the challenges that this recording provides.

Eris 136199 is an album that blossoms after repeated listenings and deserves more than a quick listen. I know, this is probably a lot to ask nowadays, but this is the case here.



@koultouranafigo

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Guitar Week: Composed and Otherwise

The reviews today are, in a sense, opposites. Tusk by Sean Moran is a set of compositions of some forward thinking songs for a quintet. Birmingham, 02-15-11 by Han-Park-Earl is avant jazz trio with two European free jazz luminaries. These two New York based guitarists have different approaches to expressing their creative energy and their efforts are well with your listen.

By Paul Acquaro

Sean Moran Small Elephant Band -Tusk (NCM, 2013) ****




The sound of the nylon guitar is an important element on Tusk, guitarist and composer Sean Moran's upcoming release with his group, the Small Elephant Band. It's something in the roundness of tone of the guitars attack that lends a special subdued bite that contrasts colorfully with the other instruments.

'Elliptical', the albums first track, begins with the guitar solo but soon all of the melodic intsruments are bobbing, weaving, and chasing each other. The finely piercing sound of Michael McGinnis' clarinet and the percussive chime of Chris Dingman's vibraphone, makes for a pleasant pallete of sound supported by acoustic bassist Reuben Redding and drummer Harris Eisenstadt.

Things really take off on the next track, 'Circle One, Two', of which I imagine a Venn diagram of overlapping ovals of composition and free playing, and their intersection portion burns brightly. Other songs like 'Moon Reflected' uses McGinnis' clarinet to set an meditative atmosphere, over which Dingman and Moran lend exotic overtones and 'Ten Mirrors' builds intensely with Eisenstadt's drums a key element. Throughout the album, tight interplay and angular twists make the songs quite attractive.

This is a really nice collections of songs, featuring both compositions and playing of which their layers will continue to reveal surprise over repeated listenings.

The album's official release is April 1.

Paul Dunmall, Han-Earl Park, Mark Sanders - Birmingham, 02–15–11 (Bandcamp, 2013) ****




Birmingham, 02-15-11 begins with indistinct rumblings, scrapings and the chirps. Soon, Park's guitar is sliding and sputtering, delivering accents and tonal clusters neatly between Mark Sanders pulsating percussion and Paul Dunmall's intense and melodic saxophone work. The three musicians are nicely balanced, each instrument an integral voice in the improvisation. Dunmall is the main voice as the first track picks up, and when Park's guitar emerges as the driving force, he relies on creating biting textures and rhythmic figures intersecting with percussion.

Sanders and Dunmall are veterans of free jazz and have worked together many times in the past. Here, as usual, Sander's percussion work is invigorating, pushing the musicians and directing the energy. There are moments where he drops out, or holds back, that reveal how powerful of a presence he is. Dunmall seems to always have the most appropriately unexpected lines, whether the solo voice or providing comping. Park is a newer voice, and he holds his own with this virtuosic crowd. His approach on the electric guitar veers between clean and slightly overdriven tones, and has unique melodic approach, favoring fragments and tonal clusters, often filling in the spaces and painting with contrasting colors.

The three together deliver an expert lesson on group interplay and spontaneous compositions. Check it out/download this re-release from Park's website.



© stef

Sunday, December 30, 2012

15 From 2012 Right Before 2013 (part 2/2)

By Stanley Zappa

Picking up from where we left off yesterday ...

Catherine Sikora, Ian Smith, Han-earl Park - Cork 04-04-11 (Bandcamp, 2012)  ***½


Bill Dixon used to say (more or less) “there's always a leader in the band, even if it isn't the leader.” What he meant by that was there was always someone who is the “best” in the band (cf Brian Blades with Joshua Redman.)

On "Cork 04-04-11" there is no doubt that Sikora is the most luminous of the three, so much so that this recording is, now and forever “one of Catherine Sikora's early recordings.” This is less the recording's fault and more the fault of Ms. Sikora's continued emergence as a leading, steering voice on the tenor saxophone. I say “continued” as Han-earl Park, despite being “first”, found me long after this more recent solo performance by Ms. Sikora, found again on the Kreilley video channel.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oF4tD-FSkQs


Joelle Leandre / Phillip Greenlief – that overt desire of object  (Relative Pitch Record, 2012) ****½
Vinny Golia Quartet – Take Your Time (Relative Pitch Record, 2012) ****½



And just who is this Kevin Reilly and why does he have such a great YouTube page? Mr Reilly is the proprietor of the delightful Relative Pitch label, responsible for two equally compelling through very different releases showcasing two distinct approaches to the single reed. Yes, more than just the single reed is showcased—certainly readers of freejazz-stef have at some point solemnly nodded along as they read one glowing review after another about the undeniably glowing Joelle Leandre. In a perfect world, an equal amount of solumn nods have already affirmed the undeniably excellent Bobby Bradford's cornet playing. Yet, when That Overt Desire of Object and Take Your Time, are listened to one after the other, you hear two different yet equally remarkable realizations of the saxophone's place in improvised music. The Yin and Yang if you will.

In the Yin corner we have Phillip Greenlief in duo with Leandre on That Overt Desire of Object. The cover of the recording is a blurry photo, in the liner notes is written:

Joelle and I have talked a lot about the state of the world throughout our friendship
a common underlying theme was greed, and all the malaise it causes.

Key words = asymmetry, “other sounds”, “lowercase” music writ large, cursive handwriting; all the things mechanization and increased production necessarily crush. Does That Overt Desire of Object remind anyone else of that Belgian crime fighting sensation Hercule Poirot? Perhaps it is the portrayal of that time between the “great wars”: the last days of a certain kind of civility and attitude towards art, those twilight hours before the Holocaust and The Bomb, before plywood and plastic above ground pools, that fabled time when everything was made by hand and made beautifully. Isn't it funny how non narrative improvised music made by two people can evoke the gestalt of an era?

In the Yang corner we have Vinny Golia with the gripping Take Your Time. It was interesting to read in the liner notes that Mr. Golia was first a graphic artist. There is something about Golia's playing; a-musical isn't the right word, but it will do the trick if it differentiates your sound image of Golia from someone who started Suzuki violin at age 3. There is a uniformity and thoroughness to Golia, a density and concept of form that makes me think of columns of news print seen at a distance, or one of those fractal screen savers more than our tonal forefathers. Golia's placement of notes on top of notes on top of notes, combined with Bradford's placement of notes on top of notes on top of notes, both in composition and in improvisation, creates a super-musical moire effect which is not to be missed.

So when is Golia going to get his MacArthur?


Lisa Mezzacappa, Eneidi, Golia, Anderson – Hell-Bent in the Pacific (No Business, 2012) ****½


...Hopefully right around the time Eneidi get's his MacArthur.

Once again, a meeting of two absolute masters of the single reed, and Marco is one of them. The combination of Golia and Eneidi, like the combination of Eneidi and Spearman (The Marco Eneidi Coalition), and Eneidi and Brotzman (B.E.E.K. Live at Spruce Street Forum) before, promised joys untold. I was not disappointed.

Nor was I disappointed by Vijay Anderson, who I've heard perform with Eneidi. (It was epic.) Anderson's playing brings to mind that of long time Eneidi colleague, the undeniable, under appreciated genius of percussion, Jackson Krall. Both have an active sound that is well peppered and punctuated. Anderson knows what makes percussion exciting to listen to and he lithely delivers. Of course he does fabulously with the down tempo, but I'm more of a car chase guy.

Mezzacappa is a wonderfully lyrical bassist whose lines in the ensemble could just as easily stand as solos...indeed throughout the recordings there were times when I wish the recording came with alternate “dub” takes.

This is an absolutely fantastic recording. Just get it already, will you?


Max Johnson Quartet (Not Two, 2012) ***½



The Max Johnson Quartet also celebrates the composed among the improvised. Mark Whitecage, an under appreciated long time stalwart of our beloved improvised music, gives us another reading of the alto's place in our beloved music. One of the benefits of FreeJazz-Stef is the ability to listen to a number of different contemporary alto players, and in so doing really have had more than one “beyond good and evil” moment wherein all the musicians really are sitting at a round table, are all manifestations of Sarswati, and as such, are all equal.

And so it is neither condemnation nor praise, but merely synesthesia when I say Whitecage is a little more oaky than Lehman—less of a patio sipper, less “bright” less “fun.” Combined with Max Johnson's rough and ready, present and accounted for bass with Tyshawn Sorey's understandably celebrated drumming, and the fantastic Steve Swell's trombone (here really isn't much a trombone can't make better) the pairing is well rounded, full bodied and complete.

Mr. Coombs' 5 star assessment strikes me as a bit of a stretch, though by no means a future impossibility. It's times like these one wishes the US didn't have that addiction to expensive wars, and was a little more loose with the grant money. There is so much to like about each individual musician, mostly because their musical personalities are so well developed, which in this case may be a liability. The voices need more time to meld, to become even greater than the sum of the parts. Were this group to have the luxury of extended stretches of rehearsal and work as a group (like, months in a castle somewhere, or a state sponsored tour of the United States) I'd wager a lasting work would emerge.


Darius Jones – Grass Roots (AUM Fidelity, 2012) **** 



Darius Jones in the quartet configuration on Grass Roots is a different Darius Jones than on Big Gurl. It should then come as no surprise that Grass Roots is quite a different listening experience than Big Gurl. With Grass Roots, Jones more than absolves him self for any low hanging fruit he may have grabbed on Big Gurl.

Equally exciting as Jones is the extremely exciting baritone saxophone of Alex Harding. Like the trombone, there isn't much a baritone saxophone can't improve either. Harding lends distinction to an already distinct recording. My new favorite baritone saxophonist!

Jones digs deeper on this one. He sounds like he's trying harder. The compositions are less contrived than on Big Gurl. The grace and support of Sean Conly on bass and Chad Taylor on drums also makes this one worth hearing. Now I can't wait to hear Man'ish Boy (A Raw & Beautiful Thing) with the ultra-mega excellent Cooper-Moore and the equally fantastic Rakalam Bob Moses.


Rakalam Bob Moses – Sacred Exhalations (2012) ****


Though clearly most would disagree, certainly someone hears me when I say if Pat Metheney only put out one recording, and that recording was Bright Size Life, his esteemed place in music would be just as secure as it is now, all those recordings and awards later.

There is a perfection to Bright Size Life, much like there is a perfection to... The Lowell Davidson Trio. HA! Bet you never saw that one coming! But really, Rakalam Bob Moses trajectory has, with Sacred Exhalations, taken him from the birth of our Metheny consciousness all those years ago, put him right next to Milford Graves at the drummer's round table. What's more, the 3 horn/1 drum instrumentation harkens this listener back to Graves' Babi Music.

As with Babi Music, what I love about Sacred Exhalations (and Hell Bent in the Pacific, Lost in June, and so many other records within our beloved area of music) is the sound of non quantized, pan-tonal, pan-rhythmic spray of prana. Either you like that kind of thing, or you don't.

Either way, it's a way of being in music that “before” was not, then, one day was. Still today, despite the smothering in life brutal tapestry, “This music” this way of making music exists, attracting musicians of all ages and all backgrounds.


Wadada Leo Smith and Louis Moholo-Moholo – Ancestors (TUM, 2012) ****½


And so we end our meditation on 2012 with Wadada Leo Smith and Louis Moholo-Moholo's release Ancestors. A fitting concluding rite.

A lot of music, improvised music included, has something to prove or something to say. Ancestors has something to share. No need to prove anything. If you don't get it, it's not for you. Though the chances of any listener “not getting” Ancestors is pretty low. It is a music for everyone—much in the same way clean drinking water, appropriate housing, medical care and equal treatment under the law is for everyone.

The beauty of Smith's sound (both sonority and attack) eclipses all concerns about “right notes” in all but the most pathologically neurotic. His sound is the careful distillate of the entire history of the trumpet? Is that fair to say? There certainly is a majesty and complexity that doesn't emerge overnight.
That's for certain.

For large stretches, Moholo-Moholo plays unadorned patterns, but plays them magically. Here's a
confession: sometimes when I'm listening to music, I'm also washing the dishes. There is an arresting authenticity to Moholo-Moholo's drumming, even at its most plain that made me take off the yellow rubber gloves, put down the dishes and listened with my full, undivided attention.

Ancestors, like Look Up, includes vocals. In this instance it is less an admonition for our arrogance (appropriate though that is) and more a declaration of love for colleagues and antecedents. Something we should all do more often.



© stef