Scott Fields Ensemble

This American Life
NEOS Music 40806

Complete with the requisite word “American” in its title, Chicago-born Köln-based guitarist Scott Fields offers his vision of Americana on this CD, with themes ostensibly composed to be used by This American Life, a long-running radio program on Chicago’s WBEZ.

Before fearing that Fields has become a Bill Frisell doppelganger, wedded to country and folk-flavored tropes, his sardonic track explanations suggest otherwise. His comments about the show’s “carpetbagger” host scavenging music to be “sliced, diced, mixed, and fried” may prevent these themes from reaching their intended market. More to the point, each of the five tracks operates on multiple levels, with atonal and contrapuntal asides and extensions sneaking out from within the rolling, lyrical narratives.

Additionally, this American Life is played by two expatriate Yanks, one German and one Portuguese. In different combinations the other players have worked with Fields on earlier CDs. Texas-born cellist Scott Roller, who moved to Germany in 1984, usually works with New music ensembles such as Musikfabrik NRW, the Helios String Quartet and Frankfurt’s Ensemble Modern. German bassist Sebastian Gramss plays with saxophonist Frank Gratkowski and in the large James Choice Orchestra, while João Lobo, who is himself expatriated in Belgium, skillfully moves between playing jazz and Portuguese popular music.

Intricately connected throughout, most of the pieces evolve from Gramss’ brisk walking slaps and Lobo’s rhythmic rebounds, rolls and energetic drum head popping. Roller’s split tone excursions are so staccato and high-pitched that the resulting sounds often resemble those of a soprano saxophone as much as a string set. Meanwhile Fields plucks, twangs and pulses rarely push the tempo quicker than moderato.

Two instances of where this cohesion works are “Can He Make a W?” and “That and a Dime…” Taken languidly, the former depends on thick bass thumps and unforced drum drags as spidery guitar runs and cello portamento lead to cohesive trade-offs between the two string players. As the cellist’s tone becomes lighter, the piece climaxes with darker story-telling vamps from Fields.

In contrast “That and a Dime…” is heartier and heavier with stress provided by string drones. Then as Gramss gently and gradually modulates the underlying pulses, both the guitarist and cellist scrub and slap their strings to produce sharp, sweeping sul ponticello concordance. Later they divide, with Fields’ output feathery and delicate outlined against Roller’s glissandi. As these two unroll rubato pulses, the textures are complemented with walking connection from Gramss and Lobo’s clip-clopping shuffles. A final, speedier variation knits together Lobo’s pops, ruffs and drags, Fields’ buzzing runs and staccato pumps from the arco players.

Droll or not, snatches of these compositions may be unrecognizable if played between stories on This American Life – if that situation is actually possible. More fruitful for those who appreciate improvised music, would be to listen to this CD and the pieces in complete form.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Flatfooted Flatbroke 2. Can He Make a W? 3. Strange People Live Next Door 4. That and a Dime… 5. Dogs We Thought We Knew

Personnel: Scott Fields (guitar); Scott Roller (cello); Sebastian Gramss (bass) and

João Lobo (percussion)

August 19, 2009

Bik Bent Braam

Extremen
BBB CD 10

James Choice Orchestra

Live at Musik Triennale Köln

Leo CD LR 513

Although saxophonist/clarinettist Frank Gratkowski and tubaist Carl Ludwig Hübsch are each an integral part of both these innovative, large ensemble sessions, the CDs couldn’t be more divergent.

Extremen features the two-Köln-based players as part of Dutch pianist Michel Braam’s 13-piece Bik Bent Braam ensemble in concert playing 12 of the pianist’s compositions. Although the tunes are also orchestrated, using a combination of written and verbal cues plus hand signals and gestures, band members improvise both musically and physically. They can alter, re-direct and refocus the order and duration of the pieces, work out different harmonies and solo choices, plus unexpectedly introduce improvised material.

Live at Musik Triennale Köln stands in sharp contrast to the other CD for a variety of reasons. For a start, there is no James Choice – it’s a jokey group identifier for the ensemble – in addition the number of orchestra members is almost double that of Bik Bent Braam. Gratkowski and Hübsch are two of the band’s leader/composers – saxophonists Norbert Stein and Matthias Schubert are the others – and in its musical game plan the orchestra relies on a combination of graphical scores, conventional notation and cues. The compositions mix New music, Free Jazz and improvised music.

Sluicing, sliding and splaying, the cross timbres exposed in Bik Bent Braam compositions vary in speed and intensity depending on whether one or more band members is in the spotlight. Within the structures, massed tutti that resemble symphonic overtures often succeed jazzy rhythm section bounces; or individual extended techniques – such as Hübsch pushing colored air through his horn – brush up against such common big band tropes as call-and-response choruses or backing riffs. Additional colors available from the contrabass clarinets of Peter van Bergen and Gratkowski, Jan Willem van der Han’s bassoon, Peter Haez’s euphonium and Angelo Verploegen’s piccolo trumpet are smeared across the compositional canvas, shading certain sections, or unpredictably – and uniquely – highlighting specific passages.

“Angelox” for instance is a cued composition that initially compresses wood scratches from drummer Michael Vatcher and Braam’s music-box-like keyboard tinkling until the result evolves into a waltz, backing it are tightly coiled, unison horn vamp that wouldn’t have been out of place in Woody Herman’s Herd. This variant is further surmounted by buttery Johnny Hodges-like alto work plus the odd splutter from low-pitched brass. In contrast, “Michaelx” threads its inventions among dark reed and brass lines, that are contrasted with Verploegen’s piccolo trumpet runs and clattering percussion smacks. By the climax, plunger brass slurs face off against faux Ragtime syncopation from the pianist plus cuckoo-clock repetitions and police whistle shrills from the horns.

“Franxs” on the other hand, is a Mingus-style blues that borrows similar section- voicing and gospel-like piano from the American bassist/composer. That is until the piece is transformed into a cheery, secular dance led by reedists van Beren and Frans Vermerssen. Goosing the Latinesque rhythms with mariachi-styled figures from strong drum whacks and cross pulsed piano lines, the performance mutates to such an extent that “Franxs” begin to resemble the soundtrack to a steamy 1950s film noir – only to conclude with a tongue-slapping baritone saxophone solo and a final alto saxophone chortle.

Performance of these and other tracks are open enough to give sufficient prominence to most band members’ talents. These include particular showcases for Wilbert de Joode, who is skilful enough to handle muscular walking, thick sul tasto wood resonation and squeaking sul ponticello runs with the same aplomb. Other highlights include trombonist Wolter Wierbos’ Dixieland-styled bell fanning or staccato bursts of slide speed; and alto saxophonist Bart van der Putten’s so-called balladic work, which finds him contorting his horn so that its output pays homage to Earl Bostic vibrating “Harlem Nocturne” at one point and Evan Parker circular breathing at another.

On the evidence here however, the 23 members of the James Choice’s orchestra are more comfortable with the techniques of Parker and the experimenters than Bostic and the popularizers, despite backgrounds that encompass rock and world music as well as so-called classical, jazz and free music. Then again, since the focus at this Musik Triennale Köln was composer Luciano Berio as well as improvisation, each of the compositions preserved was created to relate to the Italian composer’s oeuvre.

Gratkowski’s “”Pyrsos” and Hübsch’s “Trivial Tribute to L. B.”, for instance, pick up on certain aspects of the older composer’s style, while admittedly filtering his ideas through the colander that is improvised music. Interestingly enough both tunes make extensive use of the voices of Barbara Schachtner and Isis Krüger, with one frequently singing and the other speechifying.

“Trivial Tribute …”, for instance, is introduced by a vocal passage as formally enunciated as it would be in a language-lab instruction tape, while massed, reverberating chords, wider and less contextualized than in Berio’s scores, move to suggest the formal variations that will follow – until the overall sound slims down to random reed squeaks and squeals. Introducing an element of structuralism, the orchestral passages break down gradually, consecutively appending timbres that are in turn minimalist, staccato or atonal. One human voice then punctuates the unfolding sound with angry non-verbal interjections.

Meanwhile Matthias Mainz’s trumpet lines and Michael Heupel’s flute weave opposing lower-pitched and higher-pitched tones around the vocal. Combining, separating and brushing against sonic impulses, intentions and interactions, singular solos alternate with choir-like instrumental group sounds. Pitchsliding and fracturing notes, Heupel duets with Gratkowski; still later a bass clarinet and Tom Lorenz’s chiming vibes signal another tonal shift. Overlapping layering references Schoenberg-like Klangfarbenmelodie, as outbursts of semi-operatic singing in what sounds like English, Italian and German are buttressed by a thick, undifferentiated orchestral tone that eventually fades diminuendo, punctuated by a conclusive “yah” from one vocalist.

Almost 22 minutes long “Pyrsos”, like Hübsch’s piece, is partially cued and partially notated, deceptively low-pitched and built in sections around a six-tone row and six permutations. Technicalities aside, the composition’s power derives from more balancing of single and group expression. Early on, echoing runs from Udo Moll’s trumpet are superseded by hectic, hocketing brass fanfares and subterranean burbling from the reeds. Benjamin Weidkamp’s slithery clarinet timbres play a role similar to Moll’s in that trumpet’s section, with what seems to be nonsense syllables courtesy of the vocalists studding the otherwise all-instrumental passages.

Lumbering pedal-point horn puffs later underlie treble sequence division as lower-pitched trombones, tubas and bass clarinets move in broken-octave lockstep, at the same time as higher-pitched instruments make their points with pointillist sound daubs. A vocal passage divided between lyric soprano asides from one singer and throat, cheek and lip intonation from the other, presages further verbal recitation accompanied by harsh piano chords, then with contrapuntal and irregular horn slurs seasoned with discordant dual tuba twists. Undulating through demonstrations of flute flutters, vibes abrasions, cross-handed popping piano chords from Paolo Alvares and sudden diaphragm vibrations from the saxes, the pressurized crescendo eventually deflates and concluded with modulated sound undulations.

Schubert’s much shorter “Autoportrait” and Stein’s “Six Chapters in a Rambling Life” are both slighter compositions, with the former more notable. It suggest a form midway between a capriccio and a concerto, with the ensemble conceptualizing the interlude utilizing bel canto vocalizing, individual instrument expressions and significant silences.

Expression of either one person’s vision or a quartet of interpreters’ acknowledgements, each of these European CDs is enjoyable on its own terms no matter the listeners’ sonic predilections. That neither could ever be confused for the other, confirms the currents of creativity blowing around the continent.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Extremen: 1. Frankx 2. Michielx 3. Wollox 4. Michaelx 5. Puttex 6. Angelox 7. Wilx 8. Erix 9. Franxs 10. Haeks 11. Pjax 12. JWX

Personnel: Extremen: Eric Boeren (cornet); Angelo Verploegen (trumpet); Wolter Wierbos (trombone); Peter Haex (euphonium), Carl Ludwig Hübsch (tuba); Frank Gratkowski (alto saxophone, clarinet and bass clarinet); Jan Willem van der Ham (alto saxophone and bassoon), Bart van der Putten (alto saxophone and clarinet), Frans Vermeerssen (tenor and baritone saxophones): Peter van Bergen (tenor saxophone clarinet and bass clarinet); Michiel Braam (piano); Wilbert de Joode (bass) and Michael Vatcher (drums)

Track Listing: Live: 1. Autoportrait 2.- 3. Pyrsos 4.-5. Six Chapters in a Rambling Life 6.-9. Trivial Tribute to L.B.

Personnel: Live: Matthias Mainz and Udo Moll (trumpets); Nicolao Valiensi (trombone); Carl Ludwig Hübsch and Melvyn Poore (tubas); Michael Heupel (flute); Annette Maye and Banjamin Weidkamp (clarinets); Frank Gratkowski (alto saxophone and contrabass clarinet); Matthias Schubert and Norbert Stein (tenor saxophone); Niels Klein (tenor saxophone and clarinet); Radek Stawarz (violin); Paolo Alvares (piano); Thomas Lehn (synthesizer); Scott Fields (guitar); Tom Lorenz (vibraphone); Sue Schlotte (cello); Sebastian Gramss and Dieter Manderscheid (bass); Joe Hertenstein (drums) and Barbara Schachtner and Isis Krüger (voices)

November 25, 2008

James Choice Orchestra

Live at Musik Triennale Köln
Leo CD LR 513

Bik Bent Braam

Extremen

BBB CD 10

Although saxophonist/clarinettist Frank Gratkowski and tubaist Carl Ludwig Hübsch are each an integral part of both these innovative, large ensemble sessions, the CDs couldn’t be more divergent.

Extremen features the two-Köln-based players as part of Dutch pianist Michel Braam’s 13-piece Bik Bent Braam ensemble in concert playing 12 of the pianist’s compositions. Although the tunes are also orchestrated, using a combination of written and verbal cues plus hand signals and gestures, band members improvise both musically and physically. They can alter, re-direct and refocus the order and duration of the pieces, work out different harmonies and solo choices, plus unexpectedly introduce improvised material.

Live at Musik Triennale Köln stands in sharp contrast to the other CD for a variety of reasons. For a start, there is no James Choice – it’s a jokey group identifier for the ensemble – in addition the number of orchestra members is almost double that of Bik Bent Braam. Gratkowski and Hübsch are two of the band’s leader/composers – saxophonists Norbert Stein and Matthias Schubert are the others – and in its musical game plan the orchestra relies on a combination of graphical scores, conventional notation and cues. The compositions mix New music, Free Jazz and improvised music.

Sluicing, sliding and splaying, the cross timbres exposed in Bik Bent Braam compositions vary in speed and intensity depending on whether one or more band members is in the spotlight. Within the structures, massed tutti that resemble symphonic overtures often succeed jazzy rhythm section bounces; or individual extended techniques – such as Hübsch pushing colored air through his horn – brush up against such common big band tropes as call-and-response choruses or backing riffs. Additional colors available from the contrabass clarinets of Peter van Bergen and Gratkowski, Jan Willem van der Han’s bassoon, Peter Haez’s euphonium and Angelo Verploegen’s piccolo trumpet are smeared across the compositional canvas, shading certain sections, or unpredictably – and uniquely – highlighting specific passages.

“Angelox” for instance is a cued composition that initially compresses wood scratches from drummer Michael Vatcher and Braam’s music-box-like keyboard tinkling until the result evolves into a waltz, backing it are tightly coiled, unison horn vamp that wouldn’t have been out of place in Woody Herman’s Herd. This variant is further surmounted by buttery Johnny Hodges-like alto work plus the odd splutter from low-pitched brass. In contrast, “Michaelx” threads its inventions among dark reed and brass lines, that are contrasted with Verploegen’s piccolo trumpet runs and clattering percussion smacks. By the climax, plunger brass slurs face off against faux Ragtime syncopation from the pianist plus cuckoo-clock repetitions and police whistle shrills from the horns.

“Franxs” on the other hand, is a Mingus-style blues that borrows similar section- voicing and gospel-like piano from the American bassist/composer. That is until the piece is transformed into a cheery, secular dance led by reedists van Beren and Frans Vermerssen. Goosing the Latinesque rhythms with mariachi-styled figures from strong drum whacks and cross pulsed piano lines, the performance mutates to such an extent that “Franxs” begin to resemble the soundtrack to a steamy 1950s film noir – only to conclude with a tongue-slapping baritone saxophone solo and a final alto saxophone chortle.

Performance of these and other tracks are open enough to give sufficient prominence to most band members’ talents. These include particular showcases for Wilbert de Joode, who is skilful enough to handle muscular walking, thick sul tasto wood resonation and squeaking sul ponticello runs with the same aplomb. Other highlights include trombonist Wolter Wierbos’ Dixieland-styled bell fanning or staccato bursts of slide speed; and alto saxophonist Bart van der Putten’s so-called balladic work, which finds him contorting his horn so that its output pays homage to Earl Bostic vibrating “Harlem Nocturne” at one point and Evan Parker circular breathing at another.

On the evidence here however, the 23 members of the James Choice’s orchestra are more comfortable with the techniques of Parker and the experimenters than Bostic and the popularizers, despite backgrounds that encompass rock and world music as well as so-called classical, jazz and free music. Then again, since the focus at this Musik Triennale Köln was composer Luciano Berio as well as improvisation, each of the compositions preserved was created to relate to the Italian composer’s oeuvre.

Gratkowski’s “”Pyrsos” and Hübsch’s “Trivial Tribute to L. B.”, for instance, pick up on certain aspects of the older composer’s style, while admittedly filtering his ideas through the colander that is improvised music. Interestingly enough both tunes make extensive use of the voices of Barbara Schachtner and Isis Krüger, with one frequently singing and the other speechifying.

“Trivial Tribute …”, for instance, is introduced by a vocal passage as formally enunciated as it would be in a language-lab instruction tape, while massed, reverberating chords, wider and less contextualized than in Berio’s scores, move to suggest the formal variations that will follow – until the overall sound slims down to random reed squeaks and squeals. Introducing an element of structuralism, the orchestral passages break down gradually, consecutively appending timbres that are in turn minimalist, staccato or atonal. One human voice then punctuates the unfolding sound with angry non-verbal interjections.

Meanwhile Matthias Mainz’s trumpet lines and Michael Heupel’s flute weave opposing lower-pitched and higher-pitched tones around the vocal. Combining, separating and brushing against sonic impulses, intentions and interactions, singular solos alternate with choir-like instrumental group sounds. Pitchsliding and fracturing notes, Heupel duets with Gratkowski; still later a bass clarinet and Tom Lorenz’s chiming vibes signal another tonal shift. Overlapping layering references Schoenberg-like Klangfarbenmelodie, as outbursts of semi-operatic singing in what sounds like English, Italian and German are buttressed by a thick, undifferentiated orchestral tone that eventually fades diminuendo, punctuated by a conclusive “yah” from one vocalist.

Almost 22 minutes long “Pyrsos”, like Hübsch’s piece, is partially cued and partially notated, deceptively low-pitched and built in sections around a six-tone row and six permutations. Technicalities aside, the composition’s power derives from more balancing of single and group expression. Early on, echoing runs from Udo Moll’s trumpet are superseded by hectic, hocketing brass fanfares and subterranean burbling from the reeds. Benjamin Weidkamp’s slithery clarinet timbres play a role similar to Moll’s in that trumpet’s section, with what seems to be nonsense syllables courtesy of the vocalists studding the otherwise all-instrumental passages.

Lumbering pedal-point horn puffs later underlie treble sequence division as lower-pitched trombones, tubas and bass clarinets move in broken-octave lockstep, at the same time as higher-pitched instruments make their points with pointillist sound daubs. A vocal passage divided between lyric soprano asides from one singer and throat, cheek and lip intonation from the other, presages further verbal recitation accompanied by harsh piano chords, then with contrapuntal and irregular horn slurs seasoned with discordant dual tuba twists. Undulating through demonstrations of flute flutters, vibes abrasions, cross-handed popping piano chords from Paolo Alvares and sudden diaphragm vibrations from the saxes, the pressurized crescendo eventually deflates and concluded with modulated sound undulations.

Schubert’s much shorter “Autoportrait” and Stein’s “Six Chapters in a Rambling Life” are both slighter compositions, with the former more notable. It suggest a form midway between a capriccio and a concerto, with the ensemble conceptualizing the interlude utilizing bel canto vocalizing, individual instrument expressions and significant silences.

Expression of either one person’s vision or a quartet of interpreters’ acknowledgements, each of these European CDs is enjoyable on its own terms no matter the listeners’ sonic predilections. That neither could ever be confused for the other, confirms the currents of creativity blowing around the continent.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Extremen: 1. Frankx 2. Michielx 3. Wollox 4. Michaelx 5. Puttex 6. Angelox 7. Wilx 8. Erix 9. Franxs 10. Haeks 11. Pjax 12. JWX

Personnel: Extremen: Eric Boeren (cornet); Angelo Verploegen (trumpet); Wolter Wierbos (trombone); Peter Haex (euphonium), Carl Ludwig Hübsch (tuba); Frank Gratkowski (alto saxophone, clarinet and bass clarinet); Jan Willem van der Ham (alto saxophone and bassoon), Bart van der Putten (alto saxophone and clarinet), Frans Vermeerssen (tenor and baritone saxophones): Peter van Bergen (tenor saxophone clarinet and bass clarinet); Michiel Braam (piano); Wilbert de Joode (bass) and Michael Vatcher (drums)

Track Listing: Live: 1. Autoportrait 2.- 3. Pyrsos 4.-5. Six Chapters in a Rambling Life 6.-9. Trivial Tribute to L.B.

Personnel: Live: Matthias Mainz and Udo Moll (trumpets); Nicolao Valiensi (trombone); Carl Ludwig Hübsch and Melvyn Poore (tubas); Michael Heupel (flute); Annette Maye and Banjamin Weidkamp (clarinets); Frank Gratkowski (alto saxophone and contrabass clarinet); Matthias Schubert and Norbert Stein (tenor saxophone); Niels Klein (tenor saxophone and clarinet); Radek Stawarz (violin); Paolo Alvares (piano); Thomas Lehn (synthesizer); Scott Fields (guitar); Tom Lorenz (vibraphone); Sue Schlotte (cello); Sebastian Gramss and Dieter Manderscheid (bass); Joe Hertenstein (drums) and Barbara Schachtner and Isis Krüger (voices)

November 25, 2008

Scott Fields

Bitter Love Songs
Clean Feed CF 102 CD

Evan Parker-Mark Wastell-Graham Halliwell-Max Eastley

A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves

Another Timbre at06

Kidd Jordan/Kali Z. Fasteau

LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland

Flying Note FNCD 9012

Open Loose

Strange Unison

Radio Legs RL 013

Jason Stein

A Calculus of Loss

Clean Feed CF 104 CD

By Ken Waxman

Arguments exist as to the commercial benefits of free trade agreements. But musicians wish similar treaties existed for their trade. In the period since NFTA, for instance, the ability of performers to travel across borders has become worse. That’s what makes festival season important. Foreign performers ranging from respected veterans to savvy tyros get Canadian exposure. Recent CDs here capture older jazzers’ alchemy and suggest newer players to watch.

Someone who has been on the cutting edge since the 1960s, British saxophonist Evan Parker brings his questing spirit to the emblematically titled A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves, Another Timbre at06 Parker’s soprano saxophone is framed by shimmering, pulsating and whirling percussion and electronics. The other musicians – all British – are Mark Wastell playing tam-tam, metal percussion and harmonium, Graham Halliwell using computer and electronics; and Max Eastley on arc, an electro-acoustic monochord.

The unyielding drones from arc and harmonium create the sonic bed on which these improvisations rest. Additional electronic prestidigitation from Halliwell means that Parker’s carefully measured vibrations are seconded by lyrical trills reconstituted from his own output.

Although the saxophonist’s unhurried modulations announce their distinctive presence as they peep from among the seeping tones, all the players reach resolution on “The Chessboard Cherry Tree”. Here turbidity is shattered by ear-wrenching percussion abrasions and crackling electronic wave forms. Most distinctively, Parker’s aviary slurs coagulate and multiply with circular breathing. Utilizing ghost notes and flutter tonguing, his phrases color and connect the proceedings. Eventually the others’ blurred harmonies bond with understated reed trills for a satisfying climax.

If Parker finesses his polyphonic tones than New Orleans-based tenor-saxophonist Kidd Jordan burns through his with molten energy. Unlike Parker, Jordan performs infrequently in Canada. You can hear why this is a loss on LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland Flying Note FNCD 9012, where his unbridled improvising is showcased. Associates of the septuagenarian saxophonist are percussionist Newman Taylor Barker and Kali Z. Fasteau, who expresses herself on mizmar, piano, flute, cello, synthesizer, violin, drums and soprano saxophone.

Announcing themselves on “Trance Dance”, Baker rumbles, pops and rebounds, as Fasteau scrapes, stops and strums the piano’s strings before turning to modal chording. For his part, Jordan divides his sheets of sound between screeching that abuts dog-whistle territory, and slurred, subterranean growls.

Additional mass is added elsewhere when Fasteau packs performances with thick synthesizer reverberations, screechy cello lines or, drumming, joins Baker in producing press rolls. Meanwhile Jordan ratchets from his horn’s top to tip in a nanosecond, utilizing vibrated split tones, double-tongued flattement and side-slipping. With Jordan expelling staccato, free-form patterns and Fasteau utilizing her soprano saxophone’s pinched, ney-like tone, “Sound Science” is another effective track; timbres brush up against one another as identical notes appear in different pitches.

Another improviser who tours as frequently as Parker is guitarist Scott Fields. Chicago-born, Fields moved to Köln, Germany a few years back. On the witty Bitter Love Songs Clean Feed CF 102 CD, he leads a trio completed by a Portuguese rhythm section: bassist Sebastian Gramss and drummer João Lobo. Fields’ compositions, which match liquid guitar runs, slinky bass lines and on-the-beat drumming, are still at variance with their sardonic titles.

For instance “My Love is Love, Your Love is Hate” features a spinning staccato theme from Fields that is stretched with slurred fingering until it seems that it will rupture, but doesn’t. Working in double counterpoint, the massed strings join to produce a barrage of notes, with Fields sounding as if he’s playing microtonally and Gramss slapping a backbeat. Meanwhile Lobo’s flams precede an intermezzo for ringing guitar licks. Note clusters are lobbed between the players on “You Used to Say I Love You but So What Now”. But the strategy is different. Fields’ contrapuntal chording skirts C&W picking, while Gramss resonates handfuls of low-pitched timbres. Eventually as the bassist settles on legato pacing, Fields wraps up with echoing, blues-based licks.

Gramss’ bass work owes its suppleness to sonic extensions from older bass specialists such as New York’s Mark Helias, who has recorded in Toronto. His Open Loose band includes drummer Tom Rainey and tenor saxophonist Tony Malaby.

On Strange Unison, Radio Legs RL 013, while the three interlock instrumentally, Helias’ bass nevertheless set the pace, with resonations ranging from traditional slap bass to staccatissimo runs. Master of understatement, Rainey blunts the backbeat, relying on cymbal cracks and cross-pulsating drags. Skirting atonality with flutter tonguing and pressurized overblowing, Malaby digs into each composition. “Silent Stutter”, for example, finds him masticating hard and heavy slurs into clusters which are subsequently expelled as foghorn blats. In contrast, “Blue Light Down the Line” is taken mid-tempo. As the bassist’s walking is succeeded by mercurial stopping, Malaby builds concentrated phrases. Soon physicality is replaced by moderato coloration as timbres puffed by the saxophone are doubled with arco swipes.

Another vibrant improvised music scene is Chicago’s, spearheaded by reedist Ken Vandermark, a frequent Canadian visitor. Like other established players, Vandermark mentors younger players, one of whom is bass clarinetist Jason Stein. A Calculus of Loss Clean Feed CF 104 CD demonstrates what Stein can do on his own, backed by Kevin Davis’s cello and Mike Pride’s percussion.

As cohesive as the other groups here, one of the trio’s advantages is that Davis takes either the front-line guitar or rhythm-section bass role. The other is that Pride’s percussion includes resonating vibraphone tinctures, cantilevered cymbal patterns plus standard drum beats.

Compositions such as “Caroline and Sam” and “That’s Not a Closet” confirm the three are as comfortable with New music as new Swing. Balanced on vibes reverberations and scratched cello strings, the former connects a near-madrigal melody with extended techniques as Stein sounds an intractable phrase in his body tube ignoring key movement. Based on mood, rather than rhythm, the result is contemplative without sinking to lugubriousness. On the other hand, “That’s Not…” is sprightly enough to suggest mainstream swing, although Stein’s roistering coloratura lines alternating with jagged runs aren’t a standard scenario. Melodious, variations moderate the pace so Davis’ plinks and Pride’s cymbal pops are audible in its resolution.

Some of these players may be on stage this month; others may take a while to visit the area. All are worth hearing.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 13 #9

June 6, 2008

Kidd Jordan/Kali Z. Fasteau

LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland
Flying Note FNCD 9012

Evan Parker-Mark Wastell-Graham Halliwell-Max Eastley

A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves

Another Timbre at06

Scott Fields

Bitter Love Songs

Clean Feed CF 102 CD

Open Loose

Strange Unison

Radio Legs RL 013

Jason Stein

A Calculus of Loss

Clean Feed CF 104 CD

By Ken Waxman

Arguments exist as to the commercial benefits of free trade agreements. But musicians wish similar treaties existed for their trade. In the period since NFTA, for instance, the ability of performers to travel across borders has become worse. That’s what makes festival season important. Foreign performers ranging from respected veterans to savvy tyros get Canadian exposure. Recent CDs here capture older jazzers’ alchemy and suggest newer players to watch.

Someone who has been on the cutting edge since the 1960s, British saxophonist Evan Parker brings his questing spirit to the emblematically titled A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves, Another Timbre at06 Parker’s soprano saxophone is framed by shimmering, pulsating and whirling percussion and electronics. The other musicians – all British – are Mark Wastell playing tam-tam, metal percussion and harmonium, Graham Halliwell using computer and electronics; and Max Eastley on arc, an electro-acoustic monochord.

The unyielding drones from arc and harmonium create the sonic bed on which these improvisations rest. Additional electronic prestidigitation from Halliwell means that Parker’s carefully measured vibrations are seconded by lyrical trills reconstituted from his own output.

Although the saxophonist’s unhurried modulations announce their distinctive presence as they peep from among the seeping tones, all the players reach resolution on “The Chessboard Cherry Tree”. Here turbidity is shattered by ear-wrenching percussion abrasions and crackling electronic wave forms. Most distinctively, Parker’s aviary slurs coagulate and multiply with circular breathing. Utilizing ghost notes and flutter tonguing, his phrases color and connect the proceedings. Eventually the others’ blurred harmonies bond with understated reed trills for a satisfying climax.

If Parker finesses his polyphonic tones than New Orleans-based tenor-saxophonist Kidd Jordan burns through his with molten energy. Unlike Parker, Jordan performs infrequently in Canada. You can hear why this is a loss on LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland Flying Note FNCD 9012, where his unbridled improvising is showcased. Associates of the septuagenarian saxophonist are percussionist Newman Taylor Barker and Kali Z. Fasteau, who expresses herself on mizmar, piano, flute, cello, synthesizer, violin, drums and soprano saxophone.

Announcing themselves on “Trance Dance”, Baker rumbles, pops and rebounds, as Fasteau scrapes, stops and strums the piano’s strings before turning to modal chording. For his part, Jordan divides his sheets of sound between screeching that abuts dog-whistle territory, and slurred, subterranean growls.

Additional mass is added elsewhere when Fasteau packs performances with thick synthesizer reverberations, screechy cello lines or, drumming, joins Baker in producing press rolls. Meanwhile Jordan ratchets from his horn’s top to tip in a nanosecond, utilizing vibrated split tones, double-tongued flattement and side-slipping. With Jordan expelling staccato, free-form patterns and Fasteau utilizing her soprano saxophone’s pinched, ney-like tone, “Sound Science” is another effective track; timbres brush up against one another as identical notes appear in different pitches.

Another improviser who tours as frequently as Parker is guitarist Scott Fields. Chicago-born, Fields moved to Köln, Germany a few years back. On the witty Bitter Love Songs Clean Feed CF 102 CD, he leads a trio completed by a Portuguese rhythm section: bassist Sebastian Gramss and drummer João Lobo. Fields’ compositions, which match liquid guitar runs, slinky bass lines and on-the-beat drumming, are still at variance with their sardonic titles.

For instance “My Love is Love, Your Love is Hate” features a spinning staccato theme from Fields that is stretched with slurred fingering until it seems that it will rupture, but doesn’t. Working in double counterpoint, the massed strings join to produce a barrage of notes, with Fields sounding as if he’s playing microtonally and Gramss slapping a backbeat. Meanwhile Lobo’s flams precede an intermezzo for ringing guitar licks. Note clusters are lobbed between the players on “You Used to Say I Love You but So What Now”. But the strategy is different. Fields’ contrapuntal chording skirts C&W picking, while Gramss resonates handfuls of low-pitched timbres. Eventually as the bassist settles on legato pacing, Fields wraps up with echoing, blues-based licks.

Gramss’ bass work owes its suppleness to sonic extensions from older bass specialists such as New York’s Mark Helias, who has recorded in Toronto. His Open Loose band includes drummer Tom Rainey and tenor saxophonist Tony Malaby.

On Strange Unison, Radio Legs RL 013, while the three interlock instrumentally, Helias’ bass nevertheless set the pace, with resonations ranging from traditional slap bass to staccatissimo runs. Master of understatement, Rainey blunts the backbeat, relying on cymbal cracks and cross-pulsating drags. Skirting atonality with flutter tonguing and pressurized overblowing, Malaby digs into each composition. “Silent Stutter”, for example, finds him masticating hard and heavy slurs into clusters which are subsequently expelled as foghorn blats. In contrast, “Blue Light Down the Line” is taken mid-tempo. As the bassist’s walking is succeeded by mercurial stopping, Malaby builds concentrated phrases. Soon physicality is replaced by moderato coloration as timbres puffed by the saxophone are doubled with arco swipes.

Another vibrant improvised music scene is Chicago’s, spearheaded by reedist Ken Vandermark, a frequent Canadian visitor. Like other established players, Vandermark mentors younger players, one of whom is bass clarinetist Jason Stein. A Calculus of Loss Clean Feed CF 104 CD demonstrates what Stein can do on his own, backed by Kevin Davis’s cello and Mike Pride’s percussion.

As cohesive as the other groups here, one of the trio’s advantages is that Davis takes either the front-line guitar or rhythm-section bass role. The other is that Pride’s percussion includes resonating vibraphone tinctures, cantilevered cymbal patterns plus standard drum beats.

Compositions such as “Caroline and Sam” and “That’s Not a Closet” confirm the three are as comfortable with New music as new Swing. Balanced on vibes reverberations and scratched cello strings, the former connects a near-madrigal melody with extended techniques as Stein sounds an intractable phrase in his body tube ignoring key movement. Based on mood, rather than rhythm, the result is contemplative without sinking to lugubriousness. On the other hand, “That’s Not…” is sprightly enough to suggest mainstream swing, although Stein’s roistering coloratura lines alternating with jagged runs aren’t a standard scenario. Melodious, variations moderate the pace so Davis’ plinks and Pride’s cymbal pops are audible in its resolution.

Some of these players may be on stage this month; others may take a while to visit the area. All are worth hearing.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 13 #9

June 6, 2008

Open Loose

Strange Unison
Radio Legs RL 013

Evan Parker-Mark Wastell-Graham Halliwell-Max Eastley

A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves

Another Timbre at06

Kidd Jordan/Kali Z. Fasteau

LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland

Flying Note FNCD 9012

Scott Fields

Bitter Love Songs

Clean Feed CF 102 CD

Jason Stein

A Calculus of Loss

Clean Feed CF 104 CD

By Ken Waxman

Arguments exist as to the commercial benefits of free trade agreements. But musicians wish similar treaties existed for their trade. In the period since NFTA, for instance, the ability of performers to travel across borders has become worse. That’s what makes festival season important. Foreign performers ranging from respected veterans to savvy tyros get Canadian exposure. Recent CDs here capture older jazzers’ alchemy and suggest newer players to watch.

Someone who has been on the cutting edge since the 1960s, British saxophonist Evan Parker brings his questing spirit to the emblematically titled A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves, Another Timbre at06 Parker’s soprano saxophone is framed by shimmering, pulsating and whirling percussion and electronics. The other musicians – all British – are Mark Wastell playing tam-tam, metal percussion and harmonium, Graham Halliwell using computer and electronics; and Max Eastley on arc, an electro-acoustic monochord.

The unyielding drones from arc and harmonium create the sonic bed on which these improvisations rest. Additional electronic prestidigitation from Halliwell means that Parker’s carefully measured vibrations are seconded by lyrical trills reconstituted from his own output.

Although the saxophonist’s unhurried modulations announce their distinctive presence as they peep from among the seeping tones, all the players reach resolution on “The Chessboard Cherry Tree”. Here turbidity is shattered by ear-wrenching percussion abrasions and crackling electronic wave forms. Most distinctively, Parker’s aviary slurs coagulate and multiply with circular breathing. Utilizing ghost notes and flutter tonguing, his phrases color and connect the proceedings. Eventually the others’ blurred harmonies bond with understated reed trills for a satisfying climax.

If Parker finesses his polyphonic tones than New Orleans-based tenor-saxophonist Kidd Jordan burns through his with molten energy. Unlike Parker, Jordan performs infrequently in Canada. You can hear why this is a loss on LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland Flying Note FNCD 9012, where his unbridled improvising is showcased. Associates of the septuagenarian saxophonist are percussionist Newman Taylor Barker and Kali Z. Fasteau, who expresses herself on mizmar, piano, flute, cello, synthesizer, violin, drums and soprano saxophone.

Announcing themselves on “Trance Dance”, Baker rumbles, pops and rebounds, as Fasteau scrapes, stops and strums the piano’s strings before turning to modal chording. For his part, Jordan divides his sheets of sound between screeching that abuts dog-whistle territory, and slurred, subterranean growls.

Additional mass is added elsewhere when Fasteau packs performances with thick synthesizer reverberations, screechy cello lines or, drumming, joins Baker in producing press rolls. Meanwhile Jordan ratchets from his horn’s top to tip in a nanosecond, utilizing vibrated split tones, double-tongued flattement and side-slipping. With Jordan expelling staccato, free-form patterns and Fasteau utilizing her soprano saxophone’s pinched, ney-like tone, “Sound Science” is another effective track; timbres brush up against one another as identical notes appear in different pitches.

Another improviser who tours as frequently as Parker is guitarist Scott Fields. Chicago-born, Fields moved to Köln, Germany a few years back. On the witty Bitter Love Songs Clean Feed CF 102 CD, he leads a trio completed by a Portuguese rhythm section: bassist Sebastian Gramss and drummer João Lobo. Fields’ compositions, which match liquid guitar runs, slinky bass lines and on-the-beat drumming, are still at variance with their sardonic titles.

For instance “My Love is Love, Your Love is Hate” features a spinning staccato theme from Fields that is stretched with slurred fingering until it seems that it will rupture, but doesn’t. Working in double counterpoint, the massed strings join to produce a barrage of notes, with Fields sounding as if he’s playing microtonally and Gramss slapping a backbeat. Meanwhile Lobo’s flams precede an intermezzo for ringing guitar licks. Note clusters are lobbed between the players on “You Used to Say I Love You but So What Now”. But the strategy is different. Fields’ contrapuntal chording skirts C&W picking, while Gramss resonates handfuls of low-pitched timbres. Eventually as the bassist settles on legato pacing, Fields wraps up with echoing, blues-based licks.

Gramss’ bass work owes its suppleness to sonic extensions from older bass specialists such as New York’s Mark Helias, who has recorded in Toronto. His Open Loose band includes drummer Tom Rainey and tenor saxophonist Tony Malaby.

On Strange Unison, Radio Legs RL 013, while the three interlock instrumentally, Helias’ bass nevertheless set the pace, with resonations ranging from traditional slap bass to staccatissimo runs. Master of understatement, Rainey blunts the backbeat, relying on cymbal cracks and cross-pulsating drags. Skirting atonality with flutter tonguing and pressurized overblowing, Malaby digs into each composition. “Silent Stutter”, for example, finds him masticating hard and heavy slurs into clusters which are subsequently expelled as foghorn blats. In contrast, “Blue Light Down the Line” is taken mid-tempo. As the bassist’s walking is succeeded by mercurial stopping, Malaby builds concentrated phrases. Soon physicality is replaced by moderato coloration as timbres puffed by the saxophone are doubled with arco swipes.

Another vibrant improvised music scene is Chicago’s, spearheaded by reedist Ken Vandermark, a frequent Canadian visitor. Like other established players, Vandermark mentors younger players, one of whom is bass clarinetist Jason Stein. A Calculus of Loss Clean Feed CF 104 CD demonstrates what Stein can do on his own, backed by Kevin Davis’s cello and Mike Pride’s percussion.

As cohesive as the other groups here, one of the trio’s advantages is that Davis takes either the front-line guitar or rhythm-section bass role. The other is that Pride’s percussion includes resonating vibraphone tinctures, cantilevered cymbal patterns plus standard drum beats.

Compositions such as “Caroline and Sam” and “That’s Not a Closet” confirm the three are as comfortable with New music as new Swing. Balanced on vibes reverberations and scratched cello strings, the former connects a near-madrigal melody with extended techniques as Stein sounds an intractable phrase in his body tube ignoring key movement. Based on mood, rather than rhythm, the result is contemplative without sinking to lugubriousness. On the other hand, “That’s Not…” is sprightly enough to suggest mainstream swing, although Stein’s roistering coloratura lines alternating with jagged runs aren’t a standard scenario. Melodious, variations moderate the pace so Davis’ plinks and Pride’s cymbal pops are audible in its resolution.

Some of these players may be on stage this month; others may take a while to visit the area. All are worth hearing.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 13 #9

June 6, 2008

Jason Stein

A Calculus of Loss
Clean Feed CF 104 CD

Evan Parker-Mark Wastell-Graham Halliwell-Max Eastley

A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves

Another Timbre at06

Kidd Jordan/Kali Z. Fasteau

LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland

Flying Note FNCD 9012

Scott Fields

Bitter Love Songs

Clean Feed CF 102 CD

Open Loose

Strange Unison

Radio Legs RL 013

By Ken Waxman

Arguments exist as to the commercial benefits of free trade agreements. But musicians wish similar treaties existed for their trade. In the period since NFTA, for instance, the ability of performers to travel across borders has become worse. That’s what makes festival season important. Foreign performers ranging from respected veterans to savvy tyros get Canadian exposure. Recent CDs here capture older jazzers’ alchemy and suggest newer players to watch.

Someone who has been on the cutting edge since the 1960s, British saxophonist Evan Parker brings his questing spirit to the emblematically titled A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves, Another Timbre at06 Parker’s soprano saxophone is framed by shimmering, pulsating and whirling percussion and electronics. The other musicians – all British – are Mark Wastell playing tam-tam, metal percussion and harmonium, Graham Halliwell using computer and electronics; and Max Eastley on arc, an electro-acoustic monochord.

The unyielding drones from arc and harmonium create the sonic bed on which these improvisations rest. Additional electronic prestidigitation from Halliwell means that Parker’s carefully measured vibrations are seconded by lyrical trills reconstituted from his own output.

Although the saxophonist’s unhurried modulations announce their distinctive presence as they peep from among the seeping tones, all the players reach resolution on “The Chessboard Cherry Tree”. Here turbidity is shattered by ear-wrenching percussion abrasions and crackling electronic wave forms. Most distinctively, Parker’s aviary slurs coagulate and multiply with circular breathing. Utilizing ghost notes and flutter tonguing, his phrases color and connect the proceedings. Eventually the others’ blurred harmonies bond with understated reed trills for a satisfying climax.

If Parker finesses his polyphonic tones than New Orleans-based tenor-saxophonist Kidd Jordan burns through his with molten energy. Unlike Parker, Jordan performs infrequently in Canada. You can hear why this is a loss on LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland Flying Note FNCD 9012, where his unbridled improvising is showcased. Associates of the septuagenarian saxophonist are percussionist Newman Taylor Barker and Kali Z. Fasteau, who expresses herself on mizmar, piano, flute, cello, synthesizer, violin, drums and soprano saxophone.

Announcing themselves on “Trance Dance”, Baker rumbles, pops and rebounds, as Fasteau scrapes, stops and strums the piano’s strings before turning to modal chording. For his part, Jordan divides his sheets of sound between screeching that abuts dog-whistle territory, and slurred, subterranean growls.

Additional mass is added elsewhere when Fasteau packs performances with thick synthesizer reverberations, screechy cello lines or, drumming, joins Baker in producing press rolls. Meanwhile Jordan ratchets from his horn’s top to tip in a nanosecond, utilizing vibrated split tones, double-tongued flattement and side-slipping. With Jordan expelling staccato, free-form patterns and Fasteau utilizing her soprano saxophone’s pinched, ney-like tone, “Sound Science” is another effective track; timbres brush up against one another as identical notes appear in different pitches.

Another improviser who tours as frequently as Parker is guitarist Scott Fields. Chicago-born, Fields moved to Köln, Germany a few years back. On the witty Bitter Love Songs Clean Feed CF 102 CD, he leads a trio completed by a Portuguese rhythm section: bassist Sebastian Gramss and drummer João Lobo. Fields’ compositions, which match liquid guitar runs, slinky bass lines and on-the-beat drumming, are still at variance with their sardonic titles.

For instance “My Love is Love, Your Love is Hate” features a spinning staccato theme from Fields that is stretched with slurred fingering until it seems that it will rupture, but doesn’t. Working in double counterpoint, the massed strings join to produce a barrage of notes, with Fields sounding as if he’s playing microtonally and Gramss slapping a backbeat. Meanwhile Lobo’s flams precede an intermezzo for ringing guitar licks. Note clusters are lobbed between the players on “You Used to Say I Love You but So What Now”. But the strategy is different. Fields’ contrapuntal chording skirts C&W picking, while Gramss resonates handfuls of low-pitched timbres. Eventually as the bassist settles on legato pacing, Fields wraps up with echoing, blues-based licks.

Gramss’ bass work owes its suppleness to sonic extensions from older bass specialists such as New York’s Mark Helias, who has recorded in Toronto. His Open Loose band includes drummer Tom Rainey and tenor saxophonist Tony Malaby.

On Strange Unison, Radio Legs RL 013, while the three interlock instrumentally, Helias’ bass nevertheless set the pace, with resonations ranging from traditional slap bass to staccatissimo runs. Master of understatement, Rainey blunts the backbeat, relying on cymbal cracks and cross-pulsating drags. Skirting atonality with flutter tonguing and pressurized overblowing, Malaby digs into each composition. “Silent Stutter”, for example, finds him masticating hard and heavy slurs into clusters which are subsequently expelled as foghorn blats. In contrast, “Blue Light Down the Line” is taken mid-tempo. As the bassist’s walking is succeeded by mercurial stopping, Malaby builds concentrated phrases. Soon physicality is replaced by moderato coloration as timbres puffed by the saxophone are doubled with arco swipes.

Another vibrant improvised music scene is Chicago’s, spearheaded by reedist Ken Vandermark, a frequent Canadian visitor. Like other established players, Vandermark mentors younger players, one of whom is bass clarinetist Jason Stein. A Calculus of Loss Clean Feed CF 104 CD demonstrates what Stein can do on his own, backed by Kevin Davis’s cello and Mike Pride’s percussion.

As cohesive as the other groups here, one of the trio’s advantages is that Davis takes either the front-line guitar or rhythm-section bass role. The other is that Pride’s percussion includes resonating vibraphone tinctures, cantilevered cymbal patterns plus standard drum beats.

Compositions such as “Caroline and Sam” and “That’s Not a Closet” confirm the three are as comfortable with New music as new Swing. Balanced on vibes reverberations and scratched cello strings, the former connects a near-madrigal melody with extended techniques as Stein sounds an intractable phrase in his body tube ignoring key movement. Based on mood, rather than rhythm, the result is contemplative without sinking to lugubriousness. On the other hand, “That’s Not…” is sprightly enough to suggest mainstream swing, although Stein’s roistering coloratura lines alternating with jagged runs aren’t a standard scenario. Melodious, variations moderate the pace so Davis’ plinks and Pride’s cymbal pops are audible in its resolution.

Some of these players may be on stage this month; others may take a while to visit the area. All are worth hearing.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 13 #9

June 6, 2008

Evan Parker-Mark Wastell-Graham Halliwell-Max Eastley

A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves
Another Timbre at06

Kidd Jordan/Kali Z. Fasteau

LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland

Flying Note FNCD 9012

Scott Fields

Bitter Love Songs

Clean Feed CF 102 CD

Open Loose

Strange Unison

Radio Legs RL 013

Jason Stein

A Calculus of Loss

Clean Feed CF 104 CD

By Ken Waxman

Arguments exist as to the commercial benefits of free trade agreements. But musicians wish similar treaties existed for their trade. In the period since NFTA, for instance, the ability of performers to travel across borders has become worse. That’s what makes festival season important. Foreign performers ranging from respected veterans to savvy tyros get Canadian exposure. Recent CDs here capture older jazzers’ alchemy and suggest newer players to watch.

Someone who has been on the cutting edge since the 1960s, British saxophonist Evan Parker brings his questing spirit to the emblematically titled A Life Saved By a Spider and Two Doves, Another Timbre at06 Parker’s soprano saxophone is framed by shimmering, pulsating and whirling percussion and electronics. The other musicians – all British – are Mark Wastell playing tam-tam, metal percussion and harmonium, Graham Halliwell using computer and electronics; and Max Eastley on arc, an electro-acoustic monochord.

The unyielding drones from arc and harmonium create the sonic bed on which these improvisations rest. Additional electronic prestidigitation from Halliwell means that Parker’s carefully measured vibrations are seconded by lyrical trills reconstituted from his own output.

Although the saxophonist’s unhurried modulations announce their distinctive presence as they peep from among the seeping tones, all the players reach resolution on “The Chessboard Cherry Tree”. Here turbidity is shattered by ear-wrenching percussion abrasions and crackling electronic wave forms. Most distinctively, Parker’s aviary slurs coagulate and multiply with circular breathing. Utilizing ghost notes and flutter tonguing, his phrases color and connect the proceedings. Eventually the others’ blurred harmonies bond with understated reed trills for a satisfying climax.

If Parker finesses his polyphonic tones than New Orleans-based tenor-saxophonist Kidd Jordan burns through his with molten energy. Unlike Parker, Jordan performs infrequently in Canada. You can hear why this is a loss on LIVE at the Kerava Jazz Festival: Finland Flying Note FNCD 9012, where his unbridled improvising is showcased. Associates of the septuagenarian saxophonist are percussionist Newman Taylor Barker and Kali Z. Fasteau, who expresses herself on mizmar, piano, flute, cello, synthesizer, violin, drums and soprano saxophone.

Announcing themselves on “Trance Dance”, Baker rumbles, pops and rebounds, as Fasteau scrapes, stops and strums the piano’s strings before turning to modal chording. For his part, Jordan divides his sheets of sound between screeching that abuts dog-whistle territory, and slurred, subterranean growls.

Additional mass is added elsewhere when Fasteau packs performances with thick synthesizer reverberations, screechy cello lines or, drumming, joins Baker in producing press rolls. Meanwhile Jordan ratchets from his horn’s top to tip in a nanosecond, utilizing vibrated split tones, double-tongued flattement and side-slipping. With Jordan expelling staccato, free-form patterns and Fasteau utilizing her soprano saxophone’s pinched, ney-like tone, “Sound Science” is another effective track; timbres brush up against one another as identical notes appear in different pitches.

Another improviser who tours as frequently as Parker is guitarist Scott Fields. Chicago-born, Fields moved to Köln, Germany a few years back. On the witty Bitter Love Songs Clean Feed CF 102 CD, he leads a trio completed by a Portuguese rhythm section: bassist Sebastian Gramss and drummer João Lobo. Fields’ compositions, which match liquid guitar runs, slinky bass lines and on-the-beat drumming, are still at variance with their sardonic titles.

For instance “My Love is Love, Your Love is Hate” features a spinning staccato theme from Fields that is stretched with slurred fingering until it seems that it will rupture, but doesn’t. Working in double counterpoint, the massed strings join to produce a barrage of notes, with Fields sounding as if he’s playing microtonally and Gramss slapping a backbeat. Meanwhile Lobo’s flams precede an intermezzo for ringing guitar licks. Note clusters are lobbed between the players on “You Used to Say I Love You but So What Now”. But the strategy is different. Fields’ contrapuntal chording skirts C&W picking, while Gramss resonates handfuls of low-pitched timbres. Eventually as the bassist settles on legato pacing, Fields wraps up with echoing, blues-based licks.

Gramss’ bass work owes its suppleness to sonic extensions from older bass specialists such as New York’s Mark Helias, who has recorded in Toronto. His Open Loose band includes drummer Tom Rainey and tenor saxophonist Tony Malaby.

On Strange Unison, Radio Legs RL 013, while the three interlock instrumentally, Helias’ bass nevertheless set the pace, with resonations ranging from traditional slap bass to staccatissimo runs. Master of understatement, Rainey blunts the backbeat, relying on cymbal cracks and cross-pulsating drags. Skirting atonality with flutter tonguing and pressurized overblowing, Malaby digs into each composition. “Silent Stutter”, for example, finds him masticating hard and heavy slurs into clusters which are subsequently expelled as foghorn blats. In contrast, “Blue Light Down the Line” is taken mid-tempo. As the bassist’s walking is succeeded by mercurial stopping, Malaby builds concentrated phrases. Soon physicality is replaced by moderato coloration as timbres puffed by the saxophone are doubled with arco swipes.

Another vibrant improvised music scene is Chicago’s, spearheaded by reedist Ken Vandermark, a frequent Canadian visitor. Like other established players, Vandermark mentors younger players, one of whom is bass clarinetist Jason Stein. A Calculus of Loss Clean Feed CF 104 CD demonstrates what Stein can do on his own, backed by Kevin Davis’s cello and Mike Pride’s percussion.

As cohesive as the other groups here, one of the trio’s advantages is that Davis takes either the front-line guitar or rhythm-section bass role. The other is that Pride’s percussion includes resonating vibraphone tinctures, cantilevered cymbal patterns plus standard drum beats.

Compositions such as “Caroline and Sam” and “That’s Not a Closet” confirm the three are as comfortable with New music as new Swing. Balanced on vibes reverberations and scratched cello strings, the former connects a near-madrigal melody with extended techniques as Stein sounds an intractable phrase in his body tube ignoring key movement. Based on mood, rather than rhythm, the result is contemplative without sinking to lugubriousness. On the other hand, “That’s Not…” is sprightly enough to suggest mainstream swing, although Stein’s roistering coloratura lines alternating with jagged runs aren’t a standard scenario. Melodious, variations moderate the pace so Davis’ plinks and Pride’s cymbal pops are audible in its resolution.

Some of these players may be on stage this month; others may take a while to visit the area. All are worth hearing.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 13 #9

June 6, 2008

Ken Waxman’s Top CDs for 2007

[In alphabetical order]
For CODA Issue 337

1. Muhal Richard Abrams, Vision Towards Essence Pi Recordings Pi23

2. Johannes Bauer/Thomas Lehn/Jon Rose, Futch Jazzwerkstatt JW 010

3. Bruce Eisenbeil Sextet, Inner Constellation Volume One. Nemu 007

4. Exploding Customer, At Your Service Ayler aylCD-063

5. Scott Fields Ensemble, Beckett Clean Feed CFO69 CD

6. Frank Gratkowski/Misha Mengelberg, Vis-à-vis Leo CD LR 476

7. François Houle, Evan Parker, Benoît Delbecq La Lumière de Pierres psi 07.02

8. Lucas Niggli Big Zoom, Celebrate Diversity Intakt CD 118

9. Quartestski Does Prokofiev, Visions Fugitives OP. 22 Ambiances Magnétiques AM 171 CD

10. Elliott Sharp & Reinhold Friedl, Feuchtify EMANEM 4133

Plus Two reissues:

• Charles Mingus, Music Written for Monterey, 1965 Not Heard … Played Live in Its Entirety at UCLA Sue Mingus Music/Sunnyside SSC 3041

• Andrea Centazzo Mitteleuropa Orchestra, The Complete Recordings Collection 1980-1981; The Complete Recordings Collection 1982-1983 Ictus Records Special Collection Vol. 1-3, Vol. 4-6

January 15, 2008

Scott Fields Ensemble

We Were The Phliks
RogueArt ROG-007

Utilizing the textures available from one instrument which assumed its modern form sometime between the 10th and the 15th century and another 20th century invention considered antique because it’s merely analogue, guitarist Scott Fields has created an almost 70½-minute CD that’s as audacious as it is rewarding.

Naturally being improvised music, We Were The Phliks also depends on the interpretive skills of the four players as much as the graphical or conventional notation Fields uses for these four long pieces. A mixture of experiences and cultures, the players are Fields, the Chicago-born guitarist who has lived in Köln, Germany for the past few years; two German-born Köln residents: tenor saxophonist Matthias Schubert and analogue synthesizer player Thomas Lehn; plus Xu Fengxia, a native of Shanghai, who now lives in Hövelhof and plays the guzheng, a large Chinese zither whose most familiar shape was established by the 15th century.

All the players are open to new experiences however. Fields, whose collaborators have ranged from fellow guitarist Jeff Parker to oboist Kyle Bruckmann, and Schubert, who is part of a co-op trio with tubaist Carl-Ludwig Hübsch and trombonist Wolter Wierbos, manipulate traditional jazz instruments to this end. Lehn, whose extended wires and in-put plugs characterize his axe of choice as a pre-1980s model, often plays with fellow sound explorers like saxophonist John Butcher. As well, despite her instrument’s antiquity, Xu has recorded with Free players such as percussionist Roger Turner.

Operating in non-traditional territory, the sounds created here don’t replicate expected timbres anyhow. Xu’s guzheng vibrations sometimes resemble those of a double bass or a banjo; Schubert is as likely to output wispy flutters and tongue slaps as honks and legato runs; and Lehn’s synthesizer does double duty as an electronic keyboard and to trigger otherworldly oscillations and drones. While Fields does comp, his licks would never be confused with those of Barney Kessel.

At points in fact, settling on a fashion in which to simultaneously interact with Schubert’s altissimo squeaks, Xu’s triple-stopping banjo-like peals and Lehn’s disconnected electronic pulses, the guitarist tries out crunchy, downward string trebles that balance between Bluegrass runs and Hawaiian echoes.

When the sonic diffusion among the four doesn’t evolve in rondo-like fashion, it does so in dual counterpoint. For instance the pleasantness of Xu’s chromatic plinks and plunks is contrasted with Fields’ staccato reverb; or Lehn’s vibrating electronic drones are texturally contrasted with Schubert’s trilling smears. Elsewhere, distortions from the two electrified instruments create cumulative, polyphonic crackles and sputters. In still other spots, the saxophone’s twittering phrasing turns tenderly legato, while the guzheng’s zither-like qualities disappear into lute-like glissandi.

Each player’s techniques and ruses protrude with structured logic during the more than 24½ minutes of “Assi Glöde”. Stuttering barks triggered from the synthesizer, plus distorted chording and stop-time rasgueado from the guitar escalate to contrapuntally contrast with Schubert’s irregularly paced growls and Xu’s chromatic plectrum plucks.

Midway through, while the guzheng player’s abrasively flat picks, the reedist’s fluttering vibrations and split tones are shadowed by overlaid, distorted guitar runs. Soon with the combined pulsations making up a continuous electro-acoustic background, single reed puffs move to the foreground. Eventually, a new passage of motor-driven oscillations from Lehn encourages Fields to abandon single-stroke licks to create a throbbing crescendo of sprawling multiphonics. That is quickly amplified by Schubert’s reed snorts and spetrofluctuation. With the climax attained, a few final saxophone breaths and echoing guitar fills confirm the piece’s conclusion.

On earlier CDs, Fields has celebrated such accomplished literary figures as American playwright David Mamet and Irish dramatist Samuel Becket. Featuring this unique mixture of almost ancient, near-modern and contemporary textures, the oddly titled CD’s literary precedent could be a time-shifting science fiction novel that intersects concepts of past, present and future. Overall, We Were The Phliks is definitely a good read … that is listen.

-- Ken Waxman

.

Track List: 1. Marg Tobias 2. Brad and Laura Winter 3. Assi Glöde 4. ellsworth snyder

Personnel: Matthias Schubert (tenor saxophone); Scott Fields (guitar); Thomas Lehn (analog synthesizer) and Xu Fengxia (guzheng)

January 6, 2008

Heinz Geisser/Guerino Mazzola Quartet

Chronotomy
Black Saint

Heinz Geisser/Guerino Mazzola
Someday
Silkheart

By Ken Waxman
June 20, 2005

Switzerland has never had an overabundance of jazz musicians, let alone outright Free Jazz players. Also, because of the cantons proximity to larger countries nearby and similarity in names, those not familiar with individual musicians might think certain Swiss players are respectively German, French or Italian.

So how do you account for an iconoclast like pianist Guerino Mazzola? Now 57, he’s combined an academic career – having published 13 books and over 90 papers in the fields of math, topology, brain-research and computer-music – with uncompromising Free playing. Often unfairly compared with Cecil Taylor – as it seems are all pianists more advanced than beboppers – his touch is nimbler and his concepts often more cerebral than the American. With references to Bill Evans and McCoy Tyner in his improvising, Mazzola, who once described Irène Schweizer, his country’s best-known avant-jazz pianist as “a nice bebop player”, has steadfastly followed his own path since 1980.

For the past decade or so, his closet musical associate has been Zürich-based percussionist Heinz Geisser (born 1961), who is also a member of the Collective 4tet with Americans trombonist Jeff Hoyer, pianist Mark Hennen and bassist William Parker.

Someday and Chronotomy allow you to experience two complementary, but completely distinctive representations of their art. The first CD is made up of duo performances from gigs in Tokyo and Mexico City. The second, recorded in New York, adds Americans, violinist Matt Maneri and guitarist Scott Fields. In breath and multi-faceted coloration Chronotomy has a slight edge over Someday.

You can’t fault the kinetic risk-taking that characterizes the performance on Someday, it’s merely that the two seem hermetically sealed in their own sound world. Both performances are almost exactly the same length – a touch under 37 minutes – and one would need ESP to geographically locate either the Mexican or the Japanese performance.

Uncompromising, Mazzola begins the Tokyo-recorded title tune with note clusters and dynamic interface then alternates between staccato and legato phrasing. Here as elsewhere, Tyner and early Keith Jarrett references work into his upfront attack. Meanwhile Geisser lays back, breaking up the pianist’s overpowering arpeggios with the occasional cymbal slap and cow bell thwack. Variations turn speedy and voluble after about 10 minutes as wave after wave of high frequency chording vibrate the instrument’s nodes. Geisser responds in kind, using cross sticking to produce heavy door-knocking action, which brings out prestissimo chording from Mazzola, cascading waterfalls of sprayed notes across the keys with one hand and shattering counterpoint with the other. Moving into the penultimate minutes of the improvisation, the percussionist is more felt than heard as the pianist lets loose with unstoppable rhythmic patterns at a velocity so speedy that it almost becomes a blur – until finally, he reprises snatches of the exposition. Press rolls and patterning from Geisser help retard the tempo until both abruptly stop.

Slightly more rococo, “Tormenta de Tiempos” proves that the pianist is more song-oriented than Taylor. At least the ruffled tremolo of his intro recalls half-forgotten Broadway ballads. Soon enough however, the nub of the piece develops frenzied note clusters and intense cyclical patterns. Intoning darker bass notes are extended with pedal power as the drummer repeatedly slams his hi hat for emphasis. Letting each surging phrase ricochet, Mazzola unspools bravura syncopation that colors the piece still further, here hinting at Taylor’s higher-pitched attacks. Geisser interjects harsh press rolls and snare pounding, creating his own patterned syncopation that for a time has the pianist comping. Gathering his forces, Mazzola eventually begins spinning vast notes flurries that condense various themes into dramatic, impressionistic chords, and bringing forth marital matching band rhythms from the percussionist. A mutated “Pathétique” reminiscent phrase from the pianist makes the finale almost straight-ahead.

Expanding the combo by two – New York-based Maneri, and Fields, who now resides in Cologne, Germany – and recording almost two years later seems to have slowed down and relaxed Mazzola a bit. Considering the two Americans’ microtonal allegiance is less flamboyant than his approach may have muted his attack as well. Despite this, among the miasma of swirling phrasing that makes up the four tracks on Chronotomy, Maneri, a minimalist from birth, emerges as his chief collaborator or antagonist. Vaguely pushed to the back are the drummer and guitarist.

Another reason for the change in execution may be that the Sci-Fi definition of chronotomy is passing time at three speeds: hyper slow, life speed and hyper fast. On this CD, each improviser takes on each of these parts in turn.

Most intense demonstration of this tri-speed ability is the more than 27-minute title tune. Clumps of piano lines that soon speed up and diffuse characterize the tune’s exposition. As Mazzola’s circular arpeggio patterns intensify, so do Maneri’s quivering back-and-forth fiddle lines and echoing tones from Field’s guitar. Rarely does this triple counterpoint make a place for an occasional percussion resonance.

Irregular patterns unspool from Mazzola’s keys, as Geisser, eventually and quietly, accents the tune with bounces – and Maneri provides similar backing with flowing spiccato runs. Here, as on the other three pieces, Fields often seems to disappear into the mix. Peering out like Bugs Bunny from a rabbit hole, he’ll sound a curt phrase then, like Bugs again, vanish, only to reappear someplace else a few seconds or a few minutes afterwards.Midway through, the widening polyphonic interface from all concerned is given further sul ponticello emphasis from Maneri, along with dancing, hyper-kinetic phasing from the pianist. Accelerating prestissimo and higher-pitched, Mazzola almost reaches Taylor-like dynamics as the violinist’s sul tasto lines add a certain bulk to the output.

Yet the keyboardist’s individuality is asserted here in a series of downshifted, romantic interludes that allows him to play the role of Evans, with Fields creating slurred Jim Hall-like runs. Soon Maneri is providing tremolo vibrations and double stops for contrast, and Geisser is whomping his cymbals. As mid-range, impressionistic violin runs, slurred guitar licks and modal comping from Mazzola shift the mood, the polyphonic strands coalesce, with the four working their way down to a sentient conclusion.

“Elevate”, on the other hand, is built on higher-pitched piano cadences and a snaky fiddle line, with drums rolls and short thumping guitar licks providing the differentiation. Sul ponticello violin squeaks and wiggling piano chording join in turn as Maneri’s repetitive jettes and Mazzola’s cross chording is cut with an occasional plink from Fields. A swelling string line from the violinist ultimately encourages a variegated pulse from Geisser and different patterns from the pianist. Reverberations of various nodes move the four into uncommon interactions on the other tunes with odd man out shifting to and fro, and with each bringing singular techniques to form a polyphonic whole.

Although more unique note clusters and emphasis characterize Chronotomy, either disc can serve as an introduction to the uncommon art of Mazzola, his longtime musical partner and extra friends.

June 20, 2005

SCOTT FIELDS ENSEMBLE

From the Diary of Dog Drexel
Rossbin RS 008

Scott Fields is yet another musician interested in melting the boundaries between so-called jazz and so-called classical music.

He’s usually identified with the free music side of things through recorded and other sessions with the likes of bassist Michael Formanek, percussionist Michael Zerang, clarinetist François Houle and drummer Hamid Drake. Yet the Madison, Wis.-based guitarist also has advanced a method by which chamber ensembles like the one on this carefully designed CD can develop extended improvisations.

Seemingly a close cousin to Butch Morris’s theory of conduction, Field’s process is built on a tonal system that Stephen Dembski, a University of Wisconsin-Madison music professor, who conducts the quintet here, developed. The American Manual Alphabet and traditional conducting gestures are used by the conductor to select from melodic fragments. Then, as musicians switch between motives, the basic materials for their improvisations -- primarily 48 non-linear scales upon which the motives and gestures are built, plus the underlying feel -- also change.

What results, at least on this CD, is five examples of abstruse, unconventional chamber music. Truthfully though, the outcome doesn’t sound that dissimilar from other small group, classically oriented pieces for strings, horns and percussion developed by improvisers who haven’t advanced specially designated theories. Additionally, although all the disc’s acrimonious-sounding song titles are Fields’s -- who admits that “my porn name would be “Dog Drexel”, as are the first four compositions, this is still overall, ensemble work.

Naming his band in homage to the Art Ensemble of Chicago, the guitarist’s playing partners get the space within which to forge their own lines. Interestingly not one has much hard-core jazz background. Clarinet and alto saxophonist Guillermo Gregorio’s history of experimentation stretches from his beginnings in Buenos Aires to his present residency in Chicago. Right now he works with similar committed players like cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm and Carrie Biolo, who is also on this disc. Percussionist Biolo who has recorded the formal music of Cornelius Cardew and Anthony Braxton has also toured with eccentric guitarist Eugene Chadbourne. Another associate of Lonberg-Holm and Zerang, not to mention Gregorio, oboist and hornist Kyle Bruckmann describes himself as a freelance classical musician.

Conservatory-trained trumpeter Greg Kelley sometimes plays free jazz with veterans like saxophonist Paul Flaherty and Braxton, but spends most of his time exploring the outer limits of textures created by his horn. He has released two notable solo CDs and often performs with other Boston-centred sonic explorers like saxophonist Bhob Rainey.

Kelley’s extended technique gets a suitable showcase on “Conflicted”, its polyrhythmic texture expanded to a longer form than on the other tracks. Advancing to triple tonguing from primary tones that morph between those of a baroque piccolo trumpet and breathy intervals, the initial theme is advanced by unison clarinet and vibes. As well, Bruckmann’s English horn articulates the instrument’s standard tone, but much tarter and sharper than classical types would expect. Eventually Gregorio’s alto saxophone and Fields’s nylon-string guitar alternate long lines until a harmonic blend of most of the instruments nearly create liturgical organ chords. Staccato pitch sliding arising from horn trills, trumpet blasts and harsh electric guitar fills soon turns repetitive mirroring the title, as feedback-laden licks presage a whining horn vamp gradually dissolving into silence.

“Pissed”, the shortest -- at less than 8½ minutes -- track is also the only other piece to truly reflect its appellation. It’s noisy, with smeared splutter from the trumpeter contrasting with woodwinds’ multiphonics and some metallic tone slivers from the vibes. Then discordant electric guitar notes join with the oboe to goose the theme into a higher pitch. At this point, Kelley seems to be fully inhabiting his horn, blaring as he comes up with balloon inflation sounds that mix with unpitched percussion hocketing and rococo horn lines.

Although longer, “Bummed” and “Agitated” may revolve around a shifting tonal centre and highlight conflicting musical patterns, but by this points the smears and multiphonics have been expected, like the sound of a pooch whose bark is worse than his bite. As a matter of fact, the edgy wooden-sounding percussion, legato oboe tones and resonant Hawaiian guitar allusion on the former and quieter vibes and nylon-string plucks on the later seem to suggest unified forward motion rather than polyrhythmic exploration. The adjective “pleasant” even comes to mind. It’s almost as if what you though was a ferocious junkyard hound has been revealed as a fluffy lap dog.

Metallic as all get out, “Medicated” -- poor puppy Drexel -- while notable on its own seems to be in variance with the other tracks. Software-constructed from Ensemble solo improvisations by Gregory Taylor, the result is wiggles, whooshes, whistles and multi-tonal echoes that can probably be linked to reed blasts, tingling bells and outer- space rockabilly guitar licks. Including what appears to be tapes running backwards creating voices like David Seville’s Chipmunks, the piece builds up to electronic drones and ends with a reverberating vibe note.

Taken together the entire project is satisfying, though not outstanding. If the pseudo-electronica had been dispensed with and more emphasis put on toughening up the initial polyrhythmic invention, things would have been more striking. Right now, though, it can satisfy many -- especially those following the saga of Fields’s ever-changing Ensemble -- and suggest new interest in what else the guitarist can create as a composer.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Conflicted 2. Pissed 3. Bummed 4. Agitated 5. Medicated

Personnel: Greg Kelley (trumpet); Guillermo Gregorio (alto saxophone, clarinet); Kyle Bruckmann (oboe, English horn); Scott Fields (electric guitar, nylon-string guitar); Carrie Biolo (vibraphone, marimba, crotales, unpitched percussion); Stephen Dembski (conductor [tracks 1-4]); Gregory Taylor (used Cycling 74’s Max/MSP software to construct [track 5] from solo improvisations by each ensemble member)

February 17, 2003

SCOTT FIELDS ENSEMBLE

Mamet
Delmark DE-527

Self proclaimed programmatic music, MAMET is a series of interlocking compositions "guided by" five of the plays written by American playwright David Mamet. Mamet, the wordsmith, is notorious for the care he puts into the cadences of his dialogue and Madison, Wisc.-based guitarist Scott Fields has tried to reflect both the words and the structure of the plays in his tunes.

How well does he succeed? Quite well in a musical sense, since the improvisations created by the guitarist and his helpmates -- Chicago drummer Michael Zerang and New York bassist Michael Formanek -- could certainly stand on their own. But whether each properly reflects the dramatic work it's supposed to represent is more of a moot point. Keeping in mind that the guitar here represents Mamet's female characters and the bass his male ones helps prolong the idea.

An almost 22 minute tour-de-force -- and the longest track on the disc -- "The Woods" goes the farthest towards reifying Fields' thesis. Depicting a two-character play that simmers with an undercurrent of suppressed violence which finally explodes in the final scene, the sounds move from nearly inaudible at the beginning to arena rock level at the end. Beginning with hushed bass notes, percussion clicks and the odd guitar lick, a cowbell suggests the rural setting. Following the original melancholy theme, all bowed bass and cymbal runs, a bass drum wash and cymbal swish introduces the guitar, which becomes louder as the seconds tick by. This lyrical guitar section is supposed to reflect the female character's hope that her relationship will last, but a deep, dark, masculine bass solo seems to foreshadow its doom. Finally, after harsh guitar notes which are offered up like dagger thrusts, a furious physical fight is depicted. Fields concentrates his repeated held notes on staccato screeches and the savagery of Jimi Hendrix-style feedback. All three musicians operate at magnified fortissimo for a while until the melancholy theme returns at the conclusion.

One of Mamet's most famous works, "Oleanna", about the transformation of a power relationship between a female student and a male professor, thrives in this setting as well. With Zerang's percussion keeping things moving in the background, over the course of the tune Field's guitar lines gradually gain in the strength and intensity as Formanek's bass moves from a strong bowed part to short, deep, plucked notes which almost slow to stasis.

Reflecting sameness in tempo and atmosphere, the other tracks are less satisfactory, but that perhaps may be a function of Mamet's themes rather than Fields' conceptions. Still, trying to relate Zerang's percussion to playing cards being dealt or money jingling on "Prairie Du Chien" may be too much of a stretch -- especially for those who haven't seen the play.

Held to a different standard than the usual guitar, bass and drums work out, Fields has to be commended for his imagination as well as for what he has produced. Convincingly, for the greatest part of the discs, the musicians have used their skills to put remarkable improvised flesh on the programmatic compositional bones.

Exploring an unusual musical byway, Fields has created a disc that can be thought about as well as heard.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Prairie Du Chien 2. American Buffalo 3. Edmond 4. The Woods 5. Olenna

Personnel: Scott Fields (guitar); Michael Formanek (bass); Michael Zerang (drums)

April 24, 2001