Marc Pichelin/Xavier Charles/Ivar Grydeland

North of the North
SOFA 525

Creating an imaginary aural landscape from an existing sphere, Marc Pichelin, Xavier Charles and Ivar Grydeland mutate and reconfigure sounds collected on Norway’s Skjervøy and Arnøy islands using their own instruments, electronics and phonographies. The result reflects the landscape without zeroing in on any exact time or place.

French clarinetist Charles and Norwegian banjoist Grydeland don’t fully expose themselves instrumentally until this nine-track CD’s fourth track. Only then are flat-lined reed smears and clanking banjo licks audible. Before that, and intermittently throughout the rest of the session, French sound artist Pichelin’s abrasive electronic pulsations and splutters plus close-miked and diffused sound samples dominate.

With obvious actualities made up of gull chirps, ship motor rumbles, boat horn hoots, fishermen’s shouts and the continuous lapping of water against the shoreline and ships hulls, the challenge is to create sound pictures that capture more than travel snapshots. The three do so vividly by bonding instruments’ timbres to the existing textures. Grydeland’s arpeggio-rich string plinks are contrapuntally matched with foaming and splashing waves for instance, while one male-female dialogue is underscored and commented upon by Charles’ split tones and intense vibrato. Elsewhere broken octave improvisation is divided among discordant reed overtones, clinking banjo licks and quivering electronic loops.

By the end, as aural wind and water reflections prevail, the players have buried themselves within the islands’ sound topography. The artificial places exposed are now as sonically real as the islands which they reflect.

-- Ken Waxman

-- For MusicWorks Issue #105

November 12, 2009

Eivind Buene

Asymmetrical Music
SOFA 523

More antiphonal than asymmetrical, Norwegian composer Eivind Buene’s nine-part double concerto juxtaposes two soloists’ improvisations within the stricture of a 12-piece chamber ensemble playing a notated score. Its success results not only from the bravura styling of percussionist Ingar Zach and Ivar Grydeland on guitar and banjo, but also from the sonic tension engendered from the backing group’s use of such non-standard chamber instruments as electric guitar, Fender Rhodes and bagpipes – as well as the expected strings and horns.

With the broken octave theme as an anchor, this tripled polyphony is toyed with and foreshadowed earlier on, then fulfilled at mid-point. Above a groundswell of massed, vibrating strings and puffing horns, Grydeland initially concentrates his strums and picking in the foreground as Zach abrasively pops and smacks abrasive surfaces. Reaching a climax with “Asymmetrical music V” and “VI”, intentions turn to elaborations as claw-hammer banjo lick become chromatic chording and the stolid percussion raps intensify to include rotated buzzes and scratches. Counterbalance is provided by, flat-line string obbligato, soon superseded by a melding of strummed electric piano, cymbal clacks, rim-shot reverb and thumping bass lines: the equivalent of a Free Jazz trio.

Unique elements are added in the final section as the music takes on processional qualities, with timbres resembling those of a radung’s blare and a pipa’s resonation. Tension-release is eventually achieved as choppy piano chords and contrapuntal marimba strokes intersect with conclusive guitar licks and measured drum beats.

This Asymmetrical Music may be irregular. Yet despite the title, it’s not lopsided but lucid.

-- Ken Waxman

-- MusicWorks Issue #103

March 28, 2009

No Spaghetti Edition

Sketches of a Fusion
SOFA 520

Norway’s ever-changing No Spaghetti Edition adds trans-oceanic, cross-cultural musical input on its fourth release with the small electronic instruments and turntables of Québécois Martin Tétreault.

Additionally, the pulsating, microtonal sound world generated by extended techniques from the band’s acoustic core – Norwegians percussionist Ingar Zach, bassist Tonny Kluften and Ivar Grydeland on banjo and guitar – is embellished still further by smeared, minimalist vibrations from French clarinetist and harmonica player Xavier Charles, on his second outing in the group, and another new recruit, local pianist Christian Wallumrød.

Established in the translucent, folk-inflected Scandinavian jazz and notated scenes, here Wallumrød concentrates on metronomic percussiveness, encompassing stopped and struck internal strings plus bulky pedal pressure. Coupled with the buzzing static, bell-pealing and bird-like cackles from Tétreault’s decks and Charles’ wheezing, watery reed squeaks, the core trio’s singular moves protrude sharply from within the blurry clouds of ever-spinning oscillations.

Each of the CD’s two long tracks is given its shape by Grydeland’s string scraping or claw-hammer picking, Kluften appearing to detune his bass as he strokes col legno lines and Zach’s hollow rim shots and drum-top maneuvering. As non-specific timbres that resemble a gas leak, metal objects grinding against one another, and a flapping fan belt hover over the unvarying, electronic drones, the second of two tracks, at 18 minutes – half the length of the first – appears more distinctive, since sonic inferences and, in Tétreault’s case, supplementary textures, are compressed. Free music yoking noise and improvisation, the North American and European overlap creates a notable if challenging fusion.

-- Ken Waxman

-- For CODA Issue 335

October 3, 2007

BRANDLMAYR/DAFELDECKER/NEMETH/SIEWERT

Die Instabilität der Symmetrie
GROB 547 & dOc 008

IVAR GRYDELAND/TONNY KLUFTEB/PAUL LOVENS
These Six
SOFA 512

One reason that improvisational music is so distinctive is that an almost identical instrumental line-up can result in completely different, yet valid sounds. So it is with these two CDs.

THOSE SIX is, no surprise, made up of six instant compositions performed by the six hands of two young Norwegians -- Ivar Grydeland on guitar and banjo and Tonny Kluften on bass -- plus veteran German drummer Paul Lovens. The result is firmly in the jazz/free improv continuum.

The other CD, whose title translates as “The Instability of Symmetry”, merely adds one musician -- Stefan Németh on synthesizer and computer -- to a trio with the same instruments as on THOSE SIX. But the music the four Austrians make -- the others are Martin Siewert on guitars and electronics, Werner Dafeldecker on bass and computer and percussionist Martin Brandlmayr -- is firmly in the microtonal, electro-acoustic realm. It’s so embedded in that scene, as a matter of fact, that some listeners may be heard pressed to believe most of the same instruments appear on both sessions.

An established partnership, Grydeland and Kluften are also part of the ever-changing local No Spaghetti Edition collective, which adds out-of-country guests, and both men have played in a trio with veteran British drummer Tony Oxley.

As important a free improv pioneer as Oxley, Lovens is another veteran whose numerous associations include the Globe Unity Orchestra and a trio with British saxophonist Evan Parker and German pianist Alex von Schlippenbach. But he never pulls rank and tries to overshadow the Norwegians here. If anything he’s self-effacing.

Only on the fourth track, for instance, does his playing move front-and-centre. But even here, while Grydeland scratches on the front of his strings and Kluften provides constant accompaniment, Lovens’ pointillistic splashes and manipulations are integrated into the whole picture. Overall, dabs of tick-tock rimshots and smears of dead centre beats combine to make his musical points.

Additionally, his cymbal scratches and what sounds like the gradually loosening of the nuts from metal rims fits hand-in-glove with the guitar’s quietly focused fills and the bassist’s spiccato tones. Fiddle approximations aren’t the only unique sound the Norwegians bring to the session, however. Grydeland is also a banjo player, though his approach is far removed from the styles of Pete Seeger, Earl Scruggs or any Dixielander.

Playing that instrument on the second track here, his chromatic plinks emphasize the banjo’s dissonant color field, often using its snapping strums in a rhythmic rather than a melodic fashion. Facing these sounds are bass work that ranges from emphasized arco slides to wood tapping, plus a constant cross stick rhythm from the. At times it also seems as if Lovens is rolling his sticks on the drum surface rather than hitting them.

On its own, the third and longest track moves into the realm of disparate silences, that actually it to the sounds on the other CD. Kluften’s walking bass line is the only constant presence, as Lovens appears to be wiping his drum tops with a cloth and producing a circular beat by tightening and loosening the tension rod on his snares and tom-toms. When he resonates unselected cymbals or sounds out a miniature tap dance on the drums’ rims and sides, Grydeland counters with flat-picking, the occasional outright pluck and slurred chording.

On DIE INSTABILITÄT DER SYMMETRIE, silences vie with undulating electronic-tinged drones, but that’s no surprise either. Other bands involving combinations of these musicians such as Efzeg and SSSD are firmly in the computer-amplified and assisted world. But while the acoustic properties of the instruments are on show, no signs of the beat-heavy pop projects in which Dafeldecker, Siewert and Brandlmayr sometime indulge are present.

“Part 4” is the closest pop approximation. Here Siewert’s shivering reverb opens up into a gentle melody that sounds as if it’s being played on an acoustic guitar. Behind him, rolling cymbal textures intercut with bass reverb and sine wave continuum create shifting background tones that soon shape themselves into a windstorm-like ostinato. This increases in volume until it almost reaches monsoon proportions. Finally, the electronics become more frantic as they swallow the andante guitar melody, with the ending featuring percussion suggestions cutting through buzzing oscillations.

Yawning, twisting cymbal textures are heard at the very end of “Part 5”, after a subtle metallic outburst from the hi-hat, ride and crash cymbals has been buried under cathedral organ-like droning crescendos. Németh’s synthesizer probably produces the sound source and its buzzing fits in with the echoing tones produced by the strings.

In contrast, “Part 3” is all quaking electronic tinged textures and rumbles from Brandlmayr’s kit, knit into an assembly line of passing tones. As the synth ejects unvarying locomotive pitches, accelerating guitar reverb rattles by, followed by the immense resonation of an electrically amplified drumbeat. By the end, however, all other sounds vanish within a static sonority that is just as abruptly cut off.

Oddly enough, the nearly 12-minute longest track, “Part 2” recorded a year previously without Dafeldecker, is just as Futuristically inclined. Beginning with a machine-like pulse, that is pierced by flat-out drum flams and a computer-generated clamor that could be unselected cymbals amplified to the nth degree. As the incessant, ululating static continues it’s occasionally interrupted by the sweep of Siewert’s fingers across his strings. This is followed by whizzing electronic friction that could result from a mistake in outlet attachment or used to make a point. Coda is a split-second drum roll and stick scuffing on a drum top.

Acoustic, electric, noise or silence -- take your pick. These instrumental configurations offer up versions of all of that. Each presentation is equally valid. However neither band quite reaches the state that could make you ignore the sound sources’ delivery method for the resulting improvisations.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: These: 1. 08.48 2. 10.54 3. 14.31 4. 04.10 5. 08.29 6. 03.17

Personnel: These: Ivar Grydeland (guitar and banjo); Tonny Kluften (bass); Paul Lovens (selected and unselected drums and cymbals)

Track Listing: Die: 1. Part 1 2. Part 2 3. Part 3 4. Part 4 5. Part 5

Personnel: Die: Martin Siewert (guitar, lap steel and electronics); Werner Dafeldecker [except track 2]; (bass and computer); Martin Brandlmayr (drums and percussion); Stefan Németh (synthesizer and computer)

April 12, 2004

NO SPAGHETTI EDITION

Real time satellite data
SOFA 513

CHRIS BURN’S ENSEMBLE
Ensemble at Musica Genera 2002
Musica General MG 006

Overcoming the challenge of fomenting non-idiomatic improvisations in the gray area between composition and improvisation has been a preoccupation of inclusive European musicians for the past few decades. Making that concept work in the field between electronic and handmade sounds preoccupied them in the 1990s. In the 21st Century, as these two consummate CDs demonstrate, the most accomplished instrumentalists are able to wrap all these tendencies into a program that can be performed by larger bands -- six and eight musicians are featured in the sessions here.

Xenophobes may dispute it, but another reason these performances are so memorable is that the improvisers, whether British, Welsh, French, Greek, German and Norwegian -- to rhyme off the nationalities on both discs -- have really developed a Pan European sonic sound. This mastery of the notated, improvised and electro-acoustic means that an ensemble such as the Oslo-based No Spaghetti Edition can alter its composition each time out, adding new sound sources to plectrumist Ivar Grydeland, bassist Tonny Kluften and percussionist Ingar Zach who make up the core group. Similarly Chris Burn’s usually all British Ensemble is this time filled out by French clarinetist Xavier Charles and Greek cellist Nikos Veliotis. It’s a concept that could give anti-EU British Tories conniption fits.

As a matter of fact Veliotis’ harsh cello tones, combined with the scrapes and rasps inflicted on the copper and steel strings during Burn’s inside piano forays and by Welsh harpist Rhordi Davies on his instrument, provide the six pieces with a distinctive percussive plait. Adding to the mesh, is the characteristic understated reed tones of long-time Burn associate saxophonist John Butcher, extended still further by the textures arising from the synthesizer and electronics of Mathew Hutchinson, who is often found in a New music context when not improvising with Burn and Butcher.

Take “Rotacja”, built around droning, ostinato electronics interrupted by echoing reedy buzzes from both woodwinds and rasping string swells and koto-like scrapes from the string players. Using brief silences as time-outs, these periods of sound respite are usually brought to an end by the sudden full-force smash on piano keys or cello strings plus the vociferous warbling of shrill, aviary reed multiphonics.

Except for “Qpdbqp”, an almost 8½-minute Veliotis-composed example of one dense languidly moving single tone, ensemble or Burn-created pieces revolve around grating clawhammer picking or harsh flat picking from the strings, as well as ear-splitting squeals, pitch distortions and distended mouthpiece raspberries from the oral instruments.

Never letting the listener forget for a moment that the non-reeds can be heard as metal objects, the compositions seem to revel in harshness, with instruments appearing to be beaten with whatever blunt object is available to create more sound sources. As reed chirps meld with undulating electric-motivated buzzed synthesizer tones, you can also sometimes hear eccentric scraped lines that reconstruct themselves into resonating bottleneck-like tones.

Though you would think that guitarist and banjoist Grydeland would indulge in similar outlandish techniques, neither he, Kluften, Davies nor German inside-piano specialist Andrea Neumann are that up-front in their contributions to the Spaghetti octet CD. Instead, except for some distinctive below-the-bridge exploration from the guitarist, thumps from the bassist’s sticks and rubber band preparations and characteristic inside-piano string sweeps they stay in the background. In the foreground are tones produced by Charles -- who also introduces wavering harmonica timbres where appropriate -- fellow Frenchman Michel Doneda on soprano and sopranino saxophones and the trumpet and electronics of Germany’s Axel Dörner, who also often plays with Burn and Butcher.

A mixture of very short -- five of the 12 tracks are less than two minutes -- and very long -- two are respectively almost 21 and nearly 30½ minutes each -- REAL TIME SATELLITE DATA isn’t as satisfying as the other CD. Over the course of more than 72½ minutes some of the impressive dense harmonies are dissipated. Not that the improvisations are ever less than convincing however, but eliminating the shorter tracks may have been a better idea.

Consider the more than half-an-hour in which “Who is changing places” develops. Beginning almost inaudibly, the sound field first blossoms with unidentifiable scratches and saxophone tongue slaps, tiny hollow rolls from the percussionist and oscillations and buzzes from electronics. Following an ascending line of static, undulating mouth timbres constitute themselves into snarls and scratches that resemble the panting sounds a dog makes when he wants to get outside. As the underlying programmed tone expands from just below regular hearing to slightly louder, bass fiddle power plucks meet billowing chromatic trumpet growls, interspersed with minute glockenspiel thwacks. Defining leitmotif of this instant composition is the constant circular breathing tones from the horns, distributed in such a way that you can hear the individual nose and mouth breaths that soon start to resemble a hospital patient’s oxygen tube. Finally the infirmary-like stillness is shattered by the sidewalk drill rattling of cymbals and bells and a collection of airy blown noises and reverberating growls that could signal quitting time at a metal fabrication factory.

Just as impressive, though more morbid, is the almost 21-minute “In gasping death”, which depends on percussionist Zach’s versatility. It begins brutally enough with long, sibilant reed tones, brassy chromatic trumpet runs and the snap of drumsticks. Following guitar flat-picking, bass plucks and what in other circumstances could be a whirl drum sound, repeated gagaku-like court music from bells and metals are heard. Before the bells take on regular cathedral-like cadences, it appears as if small objects are being rolled on the floor and along it, as an assembly line of electronic rumbles comes to the fore. Abrasive drum scrapes, rubbed cymbals and kettledrum thwacks break up rolling drones from the reeds and dense sine wave movements. By the end, an assembly line of buzzes, crackles and cracks from the electronic impulses and scraping reed split tones are succeeded by polyphonic human-sounding shrieks that give way to an inside piano string sweep.

Although some of the shorter tracks evidently seem to centre more on resonating furniture-moving timbres than concise improvisational extensions, taken a few at a time, they can provide pleasure as well.

Pan-European and Post-Modern at the same time, and despite some personnel crossover, the octet and sextet here provide subtly distinct and equally legitimate examples of 21st Century creativity.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Ensemble: 1. Zaczac 2. Rotacja 3. Qpdbqp 4. Strach Na Wroble 5. Kontynuowac 6. Konczyc

Personnel: Ensemble: Xavier Charles (clarinet); John Butcher (soprano and tenor saxophones); Chris Burn (piano); Nikos Veliotis (cello); Rhordi Davies (harp); Mathew Hutchinson (synthesizer and electronics)

Track Listing: Real: 1. Soon, too soon 2. In gasping death 3. Micro warehouse 4. Micro luggage 5. Micro control journal 6. Mini systems 7. Macro photography 8. Macro investors 9. Super systems 10. Who is changing places 11. Super position 12. Super opposition

Personnel: Real: Axel Dörner (trumpet and electronics); Xavier Charles (clarinet and harmonica); Michel Doneda (soprano and sopranino saxophones); Andrea Neumann (inside piano); Ivar Grydeland (guitar and banjo); Rhordi Davies (harp); Tonny Kluften (bass); Ingar Zach (percussion )

February 16, 2004

HISS

Zahir
Rossbin RS 011

Yet another example of the Oslo-London concordant, CDs like this one prove -- as if there was any doubt -- that musicians from different countries cooperate a whole lot better than their political counterparts.

An outgrowth of the ever-shifting, large band No Spaghetti Edition, Hiss pares down the members of that larger group to four, who then proceed to run through five instant compositions in about 46 minutes. Recorded in London, the session makes up for this geographical imbalance by featuring three Norwegians and one Englishman. Each of the Norwegian players, though, is quite comfortable improvising in the low-key BritImprov style.

Percussionist Ingar Zach, for instance, has recorded with such first generation British improvisers as bassist Barry Guy and guitarist Derek Bailey. Bassist Tonny Kluften is part of British drummer Tony Oxley’s working trio as is guitarist Ivar Grydeland. Odd man out, British keyboardist Pat Thomas’ usual associates include Bailey, Oxley, drummer Roger Turner and the co-op group Lunge.

ZAHIR is no slavish BritImprov recreation however, but a novel variation on the theme, adapting electronic sounds to improv music. Many times throughout, the tunes highlight the enigmatic joy of true improv as the listener finds it impossible to match certain sounds to particular instruments.

Although all the tracks start off quietly and the music prefers to make its point at a whisper rather than at a scream, no one whimps out. There are enough passages of electric squeals, guitar feedback and pure industrial noise to remind you that improv aside, Scandinavian black metal is a close kin to British head banging.

Shimmering, high-pitched, mouse-like squeaks arise from the synthesizer at times, as do guitar pedal effects, feedback reverberations and the ascending noise of what sounds like a train going through tunnel, with percussion creating the level crossing interface. Zach also seems able to create enough hullabaloo to replicate how a shop full of exploding, hammered metals would reverberate -- and how walls would be rendered by that explosion.

Meanwhile, static moving from one electric instrument to another, freeform drones, ascending buzzes and whirls -- plus mixing board squeals -- add to the general discord. Mingled among all this is what appears to be keyboard glissandos and forearm pressure on many keys simultaneously; whacks on hollow logs and on what could be either a dumbek or darbuka; plus melodica and car horn tones and sampled voices isolated on recording tapes run forwards and backwards.

The CD reaches a crescendo of sorts on the penultimate track where the scratch of metal appears to arise from unselected cymbals rolling across the floor and cowbells hit with great force. Twisting tones of sprawling electronic currents meet video game echoes and spinning top sounds, while tinny accordion-like timbres vie for upfront ear space with squeaking, whirring tones, chain rattling, swift ruffs and flams and industrial noises that could actually be furniture being dragged across the studio.

Finally, the entire glorious cacophony comes to a head on the almost 14-minute “Khayal”. Here the menagerie of effects multiples with the apparent emergence of running water sounds among guitar chord twists, scraping metal, wood abrasions, bubbling cauldron intimations and what could be the peeps of grouse and definite porcine oinks. Wire brushes hitting glass test tubes, resounding drum rolls, all but ear-splitting electric guitar drones and the whooshes of a synthesizer’s output are knitted together as a coda -- concluding with a single bell stroke.

Whether musicians from two other countries could have created a similar aural whole is open to question; as is whether you’re prepared to sit through this CD. Your appreciation will likely depend on how well you can appreciate manipulation of sound sources as well as those from conventional instruments.

But certainly for the brave of heart -- and ear -- the verb that may describe this Norwegian-British quartet’s output is closer to cheer than hiss.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Wazifah 2. Qalb 3. Batin 4. Zahir 5. Khayal

Personnel: Pat Thomas (keyboards and electronics); Ivar Grydeland (guitar); Tonny Kluften (bass); Ingar Zach (percussion)

August 18, 2003

NO SPAGHETTI EDITION

Pasta Variations
SOFA 509

JOHN BUTCHER/PHIL MINTON
Apples of Gomorrah
GROB 429

The glue -- or maybe it’s the spittle -- that holds these two sessions together is the oral work of British performer Phil Minton. One hesitates to call him a singer since his vocal tones seem to range from improvising instrumental emulation to aural recapitulation of all the intonation related to the Seven Ages of Man. And all that is mixed with cartoon character voices, operatic snatches and animal calls.

While individually cogent, each CD is distinct. On PASTA VARIATIONS, Minton mixes it up with the one British -- Pat Thomas on keyboards and electronics -- and five Norwegian members of No Spaghetti Edition, the improv group with a constantly shifting line-up. APPLES OF GOMORRAH, on the other hand, is a duo session, with a longtime associate, soprano and tenor saxophonist John Butcher. Each disc is impressive in its own way.

Constantly experimenting, Minton was involved with Bob Ostertag’s electronic piece, SAY NO MORE, as long ago as 1983, so facing Thomas’ instrumental advances, plus oddball instruments like Håkon Kornstad’s fluteonet and Frode Haltli’s accordion causes no terror. Or if it does his vocal forays don’t sound any different than when he’s improvising with more conventional instruments. The key thing here is that he adapts to his new partners and they to him.

For instance, on the more than 14 minute “PVD”, Thomas’ mellotron-like sound mixes with elongated “ahs” and “oohs” from Minton and fluteonet whistles from Kornstad, who also leads his own modern mainstream trio. Matching guttural mumbles and sighs that could emanate as easily from an inmate of Bedlam as a cartoon pirate are the woodblock and cymbal caresses from drummer Ingar Zach, who has duetted with British guitarist Derek Bailey among others. Thus, Minton turns into a rhythm singer. But, trouble is, as the accordion vamps and tenor saxophone tones speed up, so must Minton and soon he’s almost yodeling in triple time. Bassist Tonny Kluften, who with guitarist Ivar Grydeland has recorded with British drummer Tony Oxley, holds onto the rhythm, allowing the vocalist to exhibit what could be a wordless counter tenor madrigal interacting with bird-like saxophone trills and buzzing electronic static. Soon, as on some other tracks, Minton’s yowling is almost buried beneath accordion tremolos and fulsome guitar licks.

Earlier, the saxophonist has added some tongue slaps and key pops to his improvisations to match Minton clamor to clamor, while Haltli, whose experience encompasses Norwegian folk and classical music, turns his expressiveness into a key pressing frenzy. As for Thomas, his sudden electronic explosions and car crash stops find modernistic keyboard runs turning to repeated, rubato fingering. At times, his piano sounds almost boppish when meeting Minton’s quacking duck sounds head on.

“PVE”, the disc’s 17½-minute tour de force, finds all hands on deck and heading in different directions. Mechanical clicks flow out of Thomas’ machines, Kornstad circular breathes out some split-tone shrills, Kluften plucks his bass loudly, and Zach alternates his accents from hi hat to bass drum pedal. Meanwhile Minton’s liturgical-style chanting soon turns to frenzied, high-pitched, near screams and Haltli uses tremolos to coat the process in an harmonic batter, while only a single percussion tone can be heard.

The saxophonist soon begins flutter tonguing, the percussionist worries the rims and sides of his drums and Grydeland scratches out tiny patterns on his strings. Finally, the squeezebox’s bent notes reconfigure themselves into a folkish melody amplified by the slurp of electronics and whistling reeds. Swelling to a crescendo the release is a coda of deflating electronic sounds and Alzheimer-like mumbling from Minton.

Nearly three years earlier, Minton and Butcher, who had been associated since earlier in the decade, and who toured in a quartet filled out by pianist Veryan Weston and percussionist Roger Turner, went into a London studio and turned out 17 tunes in less than 44½ minutes. Intentionally or not, the sacramental suggestions of the other disc are resurrected here with Minton’s vocal contortions alluding to Ashkenazi davening, the muezzin’s calls to prayer and Georgian chants.

Considering that many more of the sounds take place more in his lips and mouth than vocal chords, some references may be more obtuse than others. Also noteworthy as the CD evolves, is how the sounds and tones of the improvising voice and improvising horns begin to resemble one another. On “Common cleavers”, for instance, Minton’s speedy glossolalia is virtually indistinguishable from Butcher’s soprano reed biting, with the later’s whiplash notes seemingly driving the vocalist to aural orgasm. “Wormleaf”, however, finds Minton puffing out basso notes of pure air, while it sounds like Butcher is inflating a balloon with his reed. Soon as the voice bounces from high to low tones, interspersed with growls, the sax delivery becomes all lips and tongue and spit.

Sometimes, as when Minton appears to be retching or producing what in other circumstances would be an infant’s cries or the sound of an indisposed feline, his delivery can be a little hard to take. But that’s why Butcher is onboard. Since the ear will accept extended instrumental techniques more readily than speaking in tongues, the listener can accept his atonality more readily than Minton’s Grand Guignol-like sounds. At those times the sacramental sounds reassert themselves as well. All you have to do is remind yourself that qualification for Christian sainthood in early days usually involved some sort of gruesome torture and death. Think of Minton’s creations as the soundtrack of those endeavors.

At the same time, if you can pull away from the vocal sounds -- easier for some than others -- you can note that Butcher can twist key pops and squeaks into a melody and extend multiphonics to such an extent that he can sound the overtones of two or three notes while pressing only one key. Like an experienced soul singer such as Wilson Pickett, who can produce several notes from one falsetto cry, Minton’s ghostly screams are capable of the same methodology. During “Itchgrass”, an oratorio of low-grade crying, he goes so deep into his chest and throat that the echoing vocal overtones make perfect counterpoint to Butcher’s honks, hums and tongue slaps.

If your idea of singers’ improvising is hearing someone scat in the middle of “Route 66” or draw out the syllables on “My Funny Valentine” then run away from these discs. But if you want to hear how a voice can range between operatic soaring and loony- bin mumbles while holding its own with top instrumentalists, then seek them out. Even if you’ve never experienced Minton’s bastard art before, you may surprise yourself by becoming an enthusiast.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. PVA 2. PVB 3. PVC 4. PVD 5. PVE

Personnel: Håkon Kornstad (tenor saxophone, fluteonet); Frode Haltli (accordion); Pat Thomas (keyboards, electronics); Ivar Grydeland (guitar); Tonny Kluften (bass); Ingar Zach (percussion); Phil Minton (voice)

Track Listing: 1. Dead men’s Bells 2. Common Cleavers 3. Sprangletop 4. Joyweed 5.

Caper Spurge 6. Wormleaf 7. Itchgrass 8. Sticky Willie 9. Nodding thistle 10. Fairy Cheeses 11. Herb Twopence 12. Sauce Alone 13. Nodding spurge 14. Cuckoo’s Stockings 15. Bachelor’s Buttons 16. Beggar’s Lice 17. Loosestrife

Personnel: John Butcher (tenor and soprano saxophone); Phil Minton (voice)

February 3, 2003

HENNEMAN STRING QUARTET

Piazza Pia
Wig 07

WACHSMANN/HUG/GRYDELAND/ZACH
Wazahugy
SOFA 508

Described -- usually by classical music snobs -- as the superlative medium for a composer’s thoughts in chamber music, the string quartet is often resistant to massive efforts to free it of ponderous 19th century memories and shove it into the modern era.

Adding improvisation to the equation makes the situation even more difficult. This demands that the members of the traditional quartet -- two violinists, one violist and a cellist -- not only abandon comfortable romantic culture, but also spontaneously create as they play.

Wazahugy and the Henneman String Quartet (HSQ) have resolved this conundrum by doing more than filling their books with certified contemporary music. Each formation consists of instrumentalists from jazz, improv and notated music backgrounds playing a combination of written and improvised sounds, further redefined by the group’s instrumentation.

Neo-cons who populate the so-called classical world in even greater numbers than in jazz may not grant string quartet status to either group however. The foursome headed by Dutch violist Ig Henneman has dared replace one violin with a bass -- played with distinction by Wilbert de Joode, sideman of choice on many Dutch and EuroImprov sessions -- and sometimes uses two violas -- the other played by young Oene van Geel of Amsterdam -- as formation of choice. American cellist Alex Waterman rounds out the group.

Firmly beyond the pale for these same people is Wazahugy, named with the first syllable of each group member’s name. Even though it has the requisite two violinists on board, both of whom -- Ugandan/Briton Philipp Wachsmann and Swiss Charlotte Hug have extensive so-called classical backgrounds -- the third “string” is that of Norwegian Ivar Grydeland’s guitar. Perceptive Norwegian percussionist Ingar Zach completes the line up.

Not only would most folks, except for the most hidebound, hear the HSQ as a recognized string quartet formation, but the tunes, written by Henneman to celebrate an Italian getaway, have definite echoes of local folk music and the sacred and secular creations of earlier, classical composers. While she has only concentrated on quartet music for a couple of years, early on she adopted her extensive classical training to write first rock songs with FC Gerania, then film, theatre and concert commissions as well as mixing music and poetry in her acclaimed Tentet. Over the past decade, her groups have included other Dutch experimenters such as trombonist Wolter Wierbos, reedman Ab Baars, and included advanced string players like de Joode, Mary Oliver, Lorre Lynn Trytten and Tristan Honsinger.

You can most clearly hear her inventive mixture of musical past, present and future with “Non Oso”, based on a profane madrigal by Claudio Monteverdi. Initial modern dissonance created by the mix of two violas, cello and bass soon gives way to harmonized low tones from al involved. When the initial theme is limed by the higher-pitched instruments, de Joode, whose employers of choice have ranged from big band Bik Bent Braam to Baars’s trio plus wild cards like American saxophonist Charles Gayle, plucks out the sort of light-fingered, all-over-the-strings solo, he would on a jazz gig. Although wilder, siren-like tones can sometimes be heard, the leitmotif here is creation of a counterpoint that compliments without subsuming anyone’s creativity.

Should you want something even less intimidating, there’s “Semipiaci”, the paraphrase of a brief, San Remo-style pop hit of the early 1960s, with smooth legato harmonies broken up by some sneaky pizzicato and the occasional pluck from de Joode. Then there’s the gorgeous harmonies of “Vivo Son”, the longest track, its melody advanced by what could be a viola weeping, and which is borrowed from a dolorous madrigal written by passionate Carlo Gesualdo de Venosa.

“Vivo Son”, is a feature for van Geel, who shares a similar interest in integrating elements from different musical traditions. An adaptation of a song from the Northern Italian mountain regions, which is supposed to be drenched in melancholy, the violist’s treatment doesn’t seem to reflect that. Using a steady syncopated rhythm, he works his way up the scale, double and triple stopping, alternately cheerful and dispirited.

More dramatic is “Cassettone”, taken andante, where Henneman’s arching viola lines are integrated into the whinnying, swaying sounds from the others. At times sounding as if it could underscore a sophisticated spy thriller, the theme is reprised after motifs and countermotifs have been tossed back and forth among the other three instruments, with de Joode’s bull fiddle carrying the beat.

At the end, there’s “Ecco,” an augmented paraphrase of a dancing song by Florentine Francesco Landini. However it’s obviously Henneman, not the Italian, who conceived of the banging-on-the-instruments’ sides percussion which take up the first few minutes of the tune. Strumming and bowing build up, only to give way to the two higher fiddles echoing one another’s phrases in counterpoint, while their lower-pitched cousins pluck away. Striking bows on the strings give some passages the same rhythm the pounding heels of flamenco dancers’ shoes produce. Finally, a suggestion of the melody is superseded by a version of it in full harmonic splendor. The piece ends, but a split second later you hear the saucy echo of a concluding bow strike.

Should HSQ’s innovations give string quartet moldy figs apoplexy, cardiac arrest may result from them hearing Wazahugy’s performance of all improvised material. Both of the band’s violinists are probably quite familiar with this sort of reactionary backlash though. Before interacting with the likes of saxophonist Evan Parker, guitarist Derek Bailey, bassist Barry Guy and drummer Tony Oxley, Wachsmann’s background was graphic and prose-based scores, conceptualism and electroacoustics, plus the music of Webern, Partch, Ives and Berio -- all neo-con bugaboos. Hug specializes in theatrical solo performances, sometimes taking place outdoors, and has recently become more involved in improv with the likes of keyboards/electronics specialist Pat Thomas and violinist Phil Durrant.

Electronics aren’t that prominent on the five instant compositions that make up WAZAHUGY, but Hug’s extended techniques, including four-string-at-once soft bow, moistened hair wet bow and torqued hair twist bow are all on display. During the course of the nearly 18 minute first track, the fiddles drone at the bottom of their range so often that they resemble cellos or basses -- or swooping predatory fowl. Zach, who has also duetted with guitarist Bailey and is part of the No Spaghetti improvisation ensemble, offers, as counterpoint, shimmering cymbal echoes, minute bell-like peals and asymmetric percussion diversions that can sound like glass shattering or oil drums being thumped. Grydeland, another No Spaghetti participant, who has recorded with drummer Oxley, chimes in with a Bailey-influenced vocabulary of accented plucks, flat picking touches behind the bridge and silences.

Redefining the quartet into a series of duos on the final track, one violin -- Wachsmann? -- explores different stops on his instrument as the percussionist manipulates tone and pressure on his. Then the other fiddle works off Grydeland’s reverberating guitar chords. Still later, one violin softly bows in the lower register while the other extends higher-pitched sounds. A sudden cymbal crash shatters these mid-range, mid-level lines into atonality for a stretch until the four regroup in time for percussionist and guitarist to complement each other’s inventions.

Elsewhere, string output is extended and mutated by the drone of electronics, with white noise is as often on tap as outer space implications or even bird warbling. Is what appears to be the sound of balloons being twisted into odd shapes coming from the string players, you wonder? And how many other groups have thought of using the buzz of mutated string sets to back up low-key flat-picking from the guitar?

Cognizant of the string quartet’s chamber music origin, Zach contributes to the overall sound picture by expressing himself in the subtle use of unusual implements such as what seem to be cowbells, toy xylophones and triangles. His art is in restraint, often upping the tempo, never rousing himself to bombast, and astutely integrating his sounds among the 10 strings that make up the rest of the quartet.

Those interested in the future of the so-called traditional string quartet should make a point of listening to Ig Henneman’s session. Those wondering about other chamber music setting in which two violins can function, should seek out WAZAHUGY. Most far-sighted folk should be interested in both discs.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Piazza: 1.Via Roma 2. Marranzanta 3. Cassettone 4. Spolia 5. Vivo Son 6. Palpito 7. Satiras 8. Semipiaci 9. Non Oso 10. Piazza Pia 11. Ecco

Personnel: Piazza: Oene van Geel (violin, viola); Ig Henneman (viola); Alex Waterman (cello); Wilbert de Joode (bass)

Track Listing: Waz: 1. 17.28 2. 6.27 3. 9.17 4. 9.38 5. 8.31

Personnel: Waz: Philipp Wachsmann (violin and electronics); Charlotte Hug (viola and electronics); Ivar Grydeland (guitar); Ingar Zach (percussion)

January 2, 2003

NO SPAGHETTI EDITION

Listen … and tell me what it was
SOFA 506

Rugged coastlines, lengthy fjords and Jan Garbarek's wimpy saxophone, more-or-less sum up what the average jazz fan knows about Norway. But while the geography hasn't changed over the past three decades, a new generation of improvisers has come to maturity. Their restless experimentation has more in common with the free form breakthroughs of other European and American musicians than the cold, ethereal meandering which have given so-called Nordic jazz the reputation it has.

Case in point is this CD, a biggish band project which links 10 committed Norwegians with British keyboardist Pat Thomas and German trumpeter Axel Dörner for eight instant compositions. Results are impressive, proving once again that these sorts of spontaneous in-the-studio creations aren't limited by geographical boundaries.

Dörner and Thomas, of course, are adept improvisers in this style who have fit into as many different situations as there are countries in the EU. Yet this is more than a showcase for the guest stars. Dividing the 10 locals into two double quintets, the band has massed firepower when it needs it, or can isolate certain individuals for greater or lesser periods of time.

Some locals have already proven their mettle on the world stage. Bassist Tonny Kluften and guitarist Ivar Grydeland recorded with British drummer Tony Oxley; drummer Ingar Zach duetted with British guitarist Derek Bailey and fellow percussionist Paal Nilsen-Love has been a members of a couple of American multi-reedist Ken Vandermark's bands.

At least as impressive, is young accordion virtuoso Frode Haltli, who has formerly made noise playing Norwegian folk and classical music. Designated as partner to voice and electronics manipulator Maja Ratkje in these double quintets, he seems to be all over the tracks with in-your-face glissandos and staccato blasts. Slow moving "Moscowskaja" is probably the most instructive showcase, as Dörner's stretched, muted horn lines are slowly superceded by electric bomps and beeps then meshed with distinctive accordion tones as traditional and modern sounds coexist.

Co-existence as a form of face off turns up on "A country practice", though, as each member of what could be termed the rhythm section moves to the forefront and back again. Building up from, and finally fading into, silence, the 12 minutes in between features such highlights as scratch cymbal sounds followed by what could be a tabletop guitar solo -- courtesy of Øyvind Torvund perhaps? -- and intricate fingerings at the highest part of bass strings -- from Kluften? -- giving way to a bowed passage that introduces an intricate bass and drum duet. Two drum solos -- from two different percussionist perhaps -- are kept apart by Thomas' lunging, atonal keyboard runs. Before the track fades, circular breathing sounds that could be electronically manipulated, and trumpet sighs appear to duke it out. Finally the two reedmen -- Håkon Kornstad, likely on tenor saxophone, and Rolf Erik Nystrøm, probably on alto sax -- create a cutting contest with some raucous reed honks. But what created that deep breathy trombone-like sound that appears before track end?

A real Norwegian smorgasbord, "If mountains could sing" -- at almost 16 minutes the longest track -- gives everyone his or her head. Wigged out Sun Ra referencing extraterrestrial electronics share sonic space with what appears to be a symphony of noise makers blown in unison. Vocalist Ratkje, who earlier on had contributed odd voice interpolations that were midway between Julie Andrews' soprano singing and the sound of an instructor in a language learning tape, sneaks in a couple of vocal lines. Then someone -- perhaps her again -- leeches minute music selections and a plumy announcer's tone into the mix in a way that suggest a radio station's signal coming in and out of focus. Percussion explosions vie with throat singing. Marching bands seem to go off in many directions playing something that sounds very close to "Frerè Jacques" as atonal and standard jazz piano runs each make their appearance.

Any one of these tracks proves the truth in this disc's title. Listeners interested in a so-far-unheralded group of players and a raucous good time program of improvisation should investigate this session. Most of the musicians are unjustly unknown at present, but with luck, many folks will soon know about these fjord freedom sounds.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1.Mir 1.4 2. Drop the boy 3. Moscowkaja 4. If mountains could sing 5. The night, the death and the universe 6. A country practice 7. Spaghetti fingers 8. Mr. Thompson

Personnel: Axel Dörner (trumpet, electronics); Håkon Kornstad, Rolf Erik Nystrøm (reeds); Frode Haltli (accordion); Pat Thomas (piano, electronics); Ivar Grydeland, Øyvind Torvund (guitar); Tonny Kluften, Ingebrigt Flaten (bass); Ingar Zach, Paal Nilsen-love (drums, percussion); Maja Ratkje (voice, electronics)

August 27, 2001

DEREK BAILEY/INGAR ZACH

Llaer
SOFA 503

INGAR ZACH/IVAR GRYDELAND

Visiting Ants
SOFA 502

Those who complain about the supposed sameness of improvised music should listen closely to these two completely off the cuff sessions. Even though they were recorded less than four months apart, feature the exact same instrumentation as well as the same percussionist, only the very obtuse could confuse one for the other.

LLAER presents British guitarist Derek Bailey, the grand old man of EuroImprov trading licks with Ingar Zach, a young Norwegian percussionist. VISITING ANTS -- shouldn't the disc titles have been reversed? -- highlights duets between Zach and fellow countryman, guitarist Ivar Grydeland.

A conservatory trained percussionist, Zach has worked with a variety of improvised and other bands in the Far North. Besides his ongoing percussive duo with Grydeland, his best-known affiliation is with Tri-dim a Trans-Scandinavian trio, which also features the exceptional Swedish guitarist David Stackenäs. Grydeland has played and recorded with British drummer Tony Oxley, Bailey's old confrere from the dawn of the close-knit London improvised music scene.

Recorded in Oslo following a Norwegian mini-tour by the duo, LLAER finds Zach seemingly deferring more to 71-year-old Bailey than he does to his younger compatriot on the other disc. At the same time, Bailey, an old hand in this sort of setting, frequently offers smoother, more pliable licks than Grydeland. Only rarely does the Englishman go hog wild with blaring feedback and electric effects, as he does on "Jerky Heads". Even then, that outburst eventually subsides into more moderated tones.

Fearless in such situations, the drummer brings out the heavy artillery, and happily bangs away on his snares, tom toms and bass drums. Elsewhere, when Bailey turns to simple repetition and even simpler licks, Zach offers up cymbal scratches, cowbell knocks and little snare tattoos. At times it can appear as if you're listening to him polish various parts of the kit as he searches for the right stroke to complement the guitarist's exploration.

After building itself up with an entire family of tiny gestures -- a paradiddle here, a roll there, one-half second of a cymbal ricochet here, one-half second of a cow bell thump there, "Hepp", a drum solo, resolves itself in a speedy frenzy of almost straight jazz. In marked contrast, "Warts'n'All", Bailey's solo showpiece is mostly silences, balladic meanderings. and strumming.

Having demonstrated singular capabilities, the more than 17 minute "Real Flying" evolves as a real meeting of minds -- and hands. Guitar sounds escalate from near noiselessness to hockey arena loudness. At one point Bailey introduces a section of twisted screech notes and ear splitting feedback. Zach replies in kind, pounding out a ballet of dark metal bass drum counterattack, finally forcing a return to the little rivulets of sound with which the duet began. Throughout the Norwegian comes across like Northern Mr. Fix-It in his workshop, restlessly busy, experimenting with first this tool and then the next.

Happily, a climate of easy intimacy marks the little more than 37 minutes of VISITING ANTS. Hyper-familiar with the other's moves, Zach seems freer and more insulated from the need to get hot before he's ready. If either musician suddenly wants to blast off -- as they both do on "First Visit" -- the other is ready. During the course of the disc, tiny bells, bowed guitar and cymbals, seemingly throttled voices, megaphone shouts and electronic washes all make their appearance. Echoed, repeated frantic or restful passages turn the entire disc into a sort of modified rondo sonata

Settling into a drum solo on ". … But Still Sofanatic" Zach maintains a measured pace, relaxing enough into the proceedings to substitute silences for the industriousness he exhibits with Bailey. While his entire kit seems to get a workout, it's the bells, cymbals and what could be vibes that appear most prominently.

Additionally, in contrast to Bailey's matter of fact stance, Grydeland is more focused. On "Think Happy Thoughts", for example, he launches a Star Wars missile attack full of rocket ship feedback and metallic electronica. So overpowering is the onslaught, though, that it's hard to determine whether Zach is along for the voyage or not. With the two compatriots definitely on side for "Dog", they come up with a speedy rock-tinged blow out that could easily attract those who have come to improv through such postrock bands as Sonic Youth.

To sum up: two discs, three musicians, many ways to approach improvised music. Both CDs deserve investigation, not only for the minute unfolding of a new Bailey partnership, but also to hear two young Norwegians evolving their version of the freest of musics.

-- Ken Waxman

Llaer:

Track Listing: 1. Shiny Crimp 2. Jerky Heads 3. Horizontal Rain 4. Hepp 5. Warts'n'All 6. Real Flying 7. Buckle Up!

Personnel: Derek Bailey (guitar); Ingar Zach (drums, percussion)

Visiting Ants :

Track Listing: 1. Sofamiliar … 2. First Visit 3. Sofasticated Lady 5. Hakavik Loek 6. Think Happy Thoughts 7. … But Still Sofanatic 8. Darbu 9. Dog 10. Last Visit

Personnel: Ivar Grydeland (guitar); Ingar Zach (drums, percussion)

May 15, 2001