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Reviews that mention Chris Burn

A New Pulse:

Another Timbre welcomes both established and younger improvisers
By Ken Waxman

Frustration, altruism and a sudden monetary windfall were the contributing factors that led Simon Reynell to found the Sheffield England-based Another Timbre record label (www.anothertimbre.com) in 2006. After more than two dozen releases – both on CD and CD-R – it’s now acknowledged as an artistic success.

A sound recordist for television and someone who has been “passionately into experimental music” for around 35 years, Reynell had become increasingly frustrated by what he calls the “dumbing down” of TV programming to reality and celebrity-oriented shows from the sort of proper documentaries on which he works. An unexpected inheritance gave him some capital and Another Timbre (AT) was born. Initially setting out to present the work of young improvisers involved in drummer Eddie Prévost’s 10-year-old weekly London workshop, the catalogue has expanded to include not only improvisers from outside the United Kingdom, but also established stylists such as pianist Chris Burn and sound-singer Phil Minton.

“I’m particularly interested in the increasingly fuzzy boundaries between contemporary classical music and improvisation as well as the interface between acoustic and electronic sounds,” explains Reynell “I'm always looking for means of bridging the gap between the two musics in innovative ways.” The majority of AT’s releases reflect this concept.

“Musicians send me things for release, and I try to give everything a fair hearing,” he elaborates when asked about the label’s release policy. “I tend not to like large-group improvisations, as they so often end up becoming a messy mush of sound. And I have a slight prejudice against solo discs because I so much like the element of collaboration you get in small group improvisation.”

With the label run on the proverbial shoestring – and part-time, Reynell still works in TV – arrangement with musicians initially involve no payment. Although some AT CDs are made up of previously recorded music, with additional costs needed only for manufacturing, publicity and distribution, the majority result from Reynell asking his favourite musicians what they would like to record. Since Reynell owns portable equipment and has extensive recording expertise, finding acoustic spaces is usually the only other consideration. “As well as being cheaper, churches are atmospheric places to record,” he notes. “As long as you can find one that's reasonably quiet, given that much of the music often hovers somewhere between p and ppp.”

Following the recording sessions, the musicians themselves decide on what will be released as well as the cover art work –“for me it's only really the music that matters”, Reynell insists – with AT taking care of mastering and pressing of 500 CDs, packaging and distributing them. Each session participant receives 50 CDs each, with profits from their sale going to the musician. Sales of the remainder are used to finance the label’s on-going existence and recording of new sessions.

Admitting that “it would be so easy to run the label into the ground by releasing a series of excellent CDs by unknown musicians”, Reynell’s partial compromise is AT’s Byways sub-label of CD-Rs. Referencing one corner of London’s lively improv scene, the black and white-sleeve discs feature lower-case, electronic-inflected performances such as Loiter Volcano (at-b03), showcasing multiphonic wave pulsations by cellist Ute Kanngisser, percussionist Léo Dumont and Paul Abbot’s electronics; or Control and its Opposites (at-b04), exposing the abrasively crackling and segmented interface that emanates from shrill alto saxophonist Seymour Wright and wide-bore trumpeter Jamie Coleman with Grundik Kasyansky’s undercurrent of electronics and samples.

Also on Byways is the label’s sole historical disc, Hugh Davies, Performances 1969-1977 (at-r01), a companion to For Hugh Davies (at11), which matches pre-recorded improvisations by the invented-instrument maker with newly recorded improvisations by other players, as Reynell would have done if Davies was alive. “[Davies] was one of my favorite improvisers, but sadly died before I started the label,” he reveals. Having paid the National Sound Archive to have copies made of Davies’ tracks for the latter CD, it seemed appropriate to issue the originals as well. “The CD-R has sold really well, especially in Japan,” declares Reynell

Other outstanding CDs in the AT catalogue include entrants from veteran improvisers and newer ones. “I bend over backwards to try to give younger players who I rate highly more exposure, and often link them with better-known players”. Midhopestones (at19) for instance, balances proven timbral extensions from experienced free musicians, saxophonist Michel Doneda and sound-singer Phil Minton, with younger players’ contributions: oscillations, buzzes and signal processing from Louisa Martin’s laptop and Lee Patterson’s amplified objects. Rhodri Davies’ acoustic and electrified harp textures moderate both groups’ sounds, benefiting his middle-aged status in this context. The minimalist narrative depends as much on Minton’s distinctive yowls and Doneda’s unemotional split tone as the electrified drones from the others.

When it comes to lesser-known musicians, Dun (at12) mixes solid, unvarying sounds from trumpeter Matt Davis and bass clarinettist Bechir Saade with nervous clicks and clatters from Matt Milton’s violin and Davis’ field recordings. Saxophonist Wright and pianist Sebastian Lexer’s Blasen (at13), balances Lexer’s organic patterning, low-frequency chording, stopped strings and buzzing resonation with the saxophonist’s tongue slaps, kazoo-like hoots and shrill shrieks, separated with plenty of pregnant pauses.

As for discs from established players, the atmospheric and contrapuntal linkage of plucked, stopped and quivering string textures exhibited on The Middle Distance (at24) from pianist Chris Burn, bassist Simon H. Fell and Philip Thomas on prepared piano, confirms that in the right hands low-frequency and low-key textures can create remarkable programs as easily as jagged, abrasive exhibitions.

Reynell concedes that in the future improvisers will use other ways of distributing music such as downloads and net labels. But there still musicians he would like to record and a backlog of already-recorded AT projects to be released. “I think a lot of musicians still like the idea of their music appearing on CD,” he muses. “It’s like an objective validation of their skills. There’s still a place for labels, but economics dictate that there will be fewer and fewer opportunities as time goes on.”

November 21, 2010

Burns/Thomas/Fell

The Middle Distance
Another Timbre at24

Diatribes/Demierre/Bourquenez

Piano(s)

Insubordinations insubdr 05

Not your parents’ piano duos, these prime slabs of first-class improv should banish any memories of the achievements of Albert Ammons & Pete Johnson, Billy Strayhorn and Duke Ellington or even Jaki Byard & Howard Riley. Moving one step beyond the Jazz and Free Jazz of these earlier keyboard meetings, both British pianists Chris Burn and Philip Thomas on The Middle Distance and the Swiss-French recital featuring Jacques Demierre and Johann Bourquenez utilize so many extended techniques and unique string-and-key variants in their joint narratives that at times the pure piano-ness of the instrument almost vanishes into abstraction. Additionally the polyphonic textures supplied by bassist Simon H. Fell on The Middle Distance, and from drummer Cyril Bondi and electronic treatment from D’incise on Piano(s), become as much part of the interface with the pianos as they exist on their own.

Appropriately reflecting the parenthetical title of Piano(s), that CD’s two most evocative tracks, “Tornade” and “Sous l’écorce”, demonstrate how the deconstructed interface Geneva-based D’incise and Bondi have developed since 2004 alters when merged with the strokes and slides of the two pianists. Demierre on his own is their foil on the three remaining tracks. More to the point, it’s a tribute to Besançon, France-born Bourquenez, who is approximately two decades younger than Demierre, that the wide-ranging and multiphonic interface with the others doesn’t suffer – or honestly sound that much different – when he’s the only keyboardist featured. And Demierre is a tough act to follow since the Swiss stylist is as comfortable working in notated music as improvisation; and creating soundscapes and installation as he is adding his voice to other sound experimenters such as saxophonist Urs Leimgruber and clarinetist/vocalist Isabelle Duthoit.

More restrained, yet also enlivened by the stops, slaps and clinks from Philip Thomas’ prepared piano, the five instant compositions on The Middle Distance also draw on the participants’ experience in notated and improvised music. Bassist Simon Fell is equally at home at the head of large orchestral-oriented ensembles as playing in Free Jazz combos with drummer Paul Hession. Pianist Chris Burn also deals with compositions and free forms, although he’s probably best-known for the many ensembles in which he and saxophonist John Butcher have been involved. The youthful – under 40 at least – UK equivalent to Bourquenez, is Sheffield-based Thomas, a senior lecturer at the University of Huddersfield, who is involved with the so-called classical experimental ensemble Apartment House as well as improvised sounds with saxophonist/bassoonist Mick Beck.

On this CD Fell is as much a musical collaborator as the two pianists – especially at those junctures where his pulsated pops, reverberating thumps and sul ponticello slices appear to mirror – or is it vice versa – the taut rubber-band like thwacks and knife-plucking-like scrapes from Thomas’ instrument. As those two vie to destabilize the sound field with angular pacing, Burn does his part with rubato patterns and voicing which emphasize the piano’s accepted versatility. At points he stomps out thick rumbles with the pedals; at others exposes swift kinetic runs from the keyboard; and at other junctures posits full-fledged arpeggios.

Should Fell advance the polyphonic themes with triple-stopping or scrubbed bow bouncing; or Thomas slap the objects resting on the prepared strings to create high-pitched harpsichord-like reverb or node extensions; Burn has an appropriate response. Rumbling low notes at one end of the keyboard, or simple clamorous textures from the other add a staccato urgency to simplistic “Chop Sticks”-like clinks. Overall, his sequences flow sympathetically and nestle harmonically among the others’ physical gestures.

The same creative connectivity is showcased on Piano(s). As a matter-of-fact when the first track runs into the second or the penultimate joins the final one, it’s impossible to determine that one piano has left the narrative. Perhaps the only clues arrive during those rare moments when sequences of high-classical, fantasia-like note cascades result from the intersection of 166 keys.

Other than that, the staccato portamento runs or doubled connective glissandi could come from either pianist – or both. While piano fireworks are on show, Bondi rolls, ruffs and pops different parts of his kit or accents the melodies with struts and slams. Plus the occasional wave-form flutter from D’incise makes its presence felt. Overall the sul tasto string sawing, strummed chords and understated key tinkles make the five tracks speed by, with the entire session blending into artful sound layering.

More than piano duos, these CDs are united in offering notable group creations.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Piano(s): 1. Tornade 2. Chants evades 3. Et puis partir 4. Presque mourir 5. Sous l’écorce

Personnel: Piano(s): Jacques Demierre, Johann Bourquenez* (piano) Cyril Bondi (drums and percussion) and D’incise (laptop and objects)

Track Listing: Middle: 1. Looking ahead, seeing nothing 2. Not with the fire in me now 3. All moved 4. Never knew such silence 5. Looking back, remembering little

Personnel: Middle: Chris Burn (piano); Philip Thomas (prepared piano) and Simon H Fell (bass)

July 23, 2010

Evan Parker Electro-Acoustic Ensemble

The Moment’s Energy
ECM 2066

John Butcher Group

Somethingtobesaid

Weight of Wax WOW 02

Now that a large portion of improvised music is deliberately moving further away from its swing-blues roots and into an accommodation with New music, a few far-sighted so-called classical festivals have made a place for improvisers. Tellingly, both these captivating CDs featuring ensembles performing large-scale compositions by significant British saxophonists, were commissioned by the United Kingdom’s Huddersfield Contemporary Music Festival. More importantly, neither work is a jazz-classical cameo, but expansive enough to allow the composers’ ideas to be figuratively painted on a larger canvas, using an extended sonic palate.

Although Evan Parker, who sticks to soprano saxophone on The Moment’s Energy, and John Butcher, who plays tenor and soprano saxophones plus samples on Somethingtobesaid, are probably the U.K.’s best-known Free Music saxophonists, the range and organization of the other instruments here highlights their differing approach to orchestral creativity. The Moment’s Energy, for instance, is an electro-acoustic exploration and to this end six electronics-manipulators are part of the group, in addition to percussionist Paul Lytton and violinist Philipp Wachsmann – two long-time Parker associates – utilizing live electronics. On the acoustic side, Barcelona’s Agustí Fernández plays both acoustic and prepared piano; New York’s Ned Rothenberg clarinet and bass clarinet; and Peter Evans, another American, trumpet and piccolo trumpet.

Along with Parker, bassist Barry Guy and shô player Ko Ishikawa produce singular acoustic tones. But during the course of the suite, sound processing, sampling remixing and layering predominates, emanating from Lawrence Casserley’s signal processing instrument, Joel Ryan’s sampler and signal processor, Walter Prati’s computer processor plus the live electronics of Richard Barrett and Paul Obermayer – who perform as Furt – and the sound projection of Marco Vecchi.

Somethingtobesaid on the other hand is nearly all acoustic, despite Butcher’s pre-recordings, Thomas Lehn’s analog synthesizer, Adam Linson’s bass and electronics and Dieb13’s turntables. Performed live at Huddersfield, sonic pleasure derives from trying to decipher which pulses are created electronically and which are the product of sophisticated extended techniques from Chris Burn’s piano, John Edward’s bass, Clare Cooper’s harp and guzheng and Gino Robair’s percussion and so-called energized surfaces.

Energized is a fine overall description for the CD, consisting of one long improvisation/composition, since gestures encompassing rubs, scraps, shuffles, plinks and strokes – usually fortissimo and staccatissimo – are layered into the piece. From the very beginning unvarying synthesized and oscillated peeps and pumps – not to mention captured voice replayed from the turntable or pre-recordings – reflectively pulse alongside clipped and sul ponticello swipes, slaps and wood-rending sounds from the bassists and guzheng player, plus piano glissandi and buzzing reed partials and tongue slaps. Often the sonic tautness is such that when Butcher plays a few measures in the common saxophone range, backed by Edwards’ slap bass, the effect is as upsetting as if a Renaissance harlequin had made a brief appearance in a Sci-Fi tale.

Although a collective work, space is also made for individual expression that never quite become solos or duos in the traditional sense. Around the seventh track indicator, for example, Burn compresses choruses of cascading keyboard runs and sweeping portamento notes in order to harmonically face off with electronic pulses and voltage vibrations from Lehn’s synthesizer. Afterwards he abruptly pumps out some quasi-stride-piano runs to accompany Butcher’s quacking reed timbres.

Earlier Robair’s crashes, bangs, cymbal slaps and bell-pealing plus freight-train shrills and resonating vibraharp strokes break through the blurry sound field to challenge the super-fast dial-twisting, in-and-out-stop-start flutters, clangs and flanges from the turntable and synthesizer. His energized surfaces as well as Lehn’s ring-modulator-like whooshes also serve as backdrop for curt, sparrow-like sibilant tweets and caws from Butcher. Subsequent reed-biting vibrations hook up with clattering from hard objects placed on and swept aside from the piano strings plus echoing cymbal crashes

Whether involved in pumping counterpoint in front of dense signal-processed crackling or circular-breathing alongside tremolo piano runs, Butcher’s unshaken aplomb while playing directs than concentrates the layers chromatically. Finally the various pitches and tones complete the sound circle.

Mixing live and processed tracks, The Moment’s Energy – recorded one year earlier in Huddersfield as well – is no less notable. Neither is Parkers playing any less self-possessed and energizing. But the other acoustic instruments are prominent as well, slashing holes in the quivering electronic pulses for their instruments’ textures, without upsetting the electro-acoustic balance.

Moving through the sixth and seventh variations on “The Moment’s Energy”, for instance, Guy’s spiccato rubs and pops evolve in double counterpoint with Wachsmann’s sul ponticello scratches and squeaks. As the fiddler’s cumulative timbres roll from the strings, processing exposes parallel violin lines which double and intersect with Wachsmann’s live sweeps. Meanwhile as the vector changes, Guy’s plucks and wood shaking are mixed with equivalent electronic melodic pulses. Later, after triggering signal processing – that is so sophisticated that together with the piano and horns it creates a wide-screen-like cinemascope-like coloration – Evans slurs low-key grace notes and accelerating pitch-slides as fungible organ-like electronic tones pulse beneath him.

Shortly before that Fernández’s extended interlude mixes low-frequency keyboard pitter-patter with stopped and strummed internal string vibrations as clouds of humming electronics splutter beside him. Sailing along harmonically, the pianist also riffs and rustles the keys, the resulting sounds of which are accompanied by rubbed drum tops and cymbals from Lytton.

Fernández’s sparkling glissandi meld with growling and snorting electronic blurs plus variable pitches loop at the top of “The Moment’s Energy II”. But the other timbres soon recede as Rothenberg’s a capella vibrations on bass clarinet accede to flying tongue slaps and affiliated renal resonance. As the undercurrent of buzzing reverb and processed oscillations simmer, the clarinetist is briefly joined by diaphragm vibrato from Parker, and then Rothenberg moves forward with growls and smears alongside hissing, blurry electro pulses, a cascade of plucked stops from Wachsmann and Guy, as well as fleet glissandi from the pianist.

Already celebrated for his playing, the strength of Parker’s composition and presentation is confirmed on “Incandescent Clouds”, one of two tracks recorded live. Here, the staccato, polytonal interaction between bubbling electronics, piano patterning and clipped bass lines is no more or less vivid than what is played on the tracks that mix live improv and electronics.

One can only hope that Huddersfield will continue to commission magnificent larger-group creations such as these from committed improvisers. The first-class creations Butcher and Parker produce on these CDs confirm the wisdom of earlier initiatives.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Moment: 1. The Moment’s Energy I 2. The Moment’s Energy II 3. The Moment’s Energy III 4. The Moment’s Energy IV 5. The Moment’s Energy V 6. The Moment’s Energy VI 7. The Moment’s Energy VII 8. Incandescent Clouds

Personnel: Moment: Peter Evans (trumpet and piccolo trumpet); Ned Rothenberg (clarinet, bass clarinet and shakuhachi); Evan Parker (soprano saxophone); Ko Ishikawa (shô); Philipp Wachsmann (violin and live electronics); Agustí Fernández (piano and prepared piano); Barry Guy (bass); Paul Lytton (percussion and live electronics): Lawrence Casserley (signal processing instrument); Joel Ryan (sample and signal processing); Walter Prati (computer processing); Richard Barrett and Paul Obermayer (live electronics) and Marco Vecchi (sound)

Track Listing: Somethingtobesaid: 1. (08.14) 2. (07.47) 3. (05.26) 4. (09.48) 5. (06.36) 6. (06.01) 7. (02.14) 8. (09.07) 9. (04.12)

Personnel: Some: John Butcher (tenor and soprano saxophones and pre-recordings); Chris Burn (piano); Thomas Lehn (synthesizer); John Edwards (bass); Adam Linson (bass and electronics); Clare Cooper (harp and guzheng); Gino Robair (percussion) and Dieb 13 (turntables)

February 1, 2010

John Butcher Group

Somethingtobesaid
Weight of Wax WOW 02

Evan Parker Electro-Acoustic Ensemble

The Moment’s Energy

ECM 2066

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Somethingtobesaid: 1. (08.14) 2. (07.47) 3. (05.26) 4. (09.48) 5. (06.36) 6. (06.01) 7. (02.14) 8. (09.07) 9. (04.12)

February 1, 2010

BERGMAN/HASLAM/HESSION

The Mahout
SLAM CD 318

BURNS/COXHILL/EDWARDS/MINTON/RUSSELL
Mopomoso solos 2002
Emanem 4100

Solo, duo and group improvisations are the connective strands that knit together these two British CDs. Both showcase contemporary improv from musicians young and old, though THE MAHOUT comes with a wildcard -- New York-based pianist Borah Bergman.

Bergman, 77, who is older by far than any other participant -- British saxophonist Lol Coxhill, most elderly of the seven other musicians is six years his junior -- plays anything but than old age home jazz. As a matter of fact, the fire and intensity he brings to his two solos and three trios on THE MAHOUT almost overshadow the singular tinkering of most of the others. Individually, while each succeeds on his own terms, the pianist’s work still provides a dictionary definition of Energy Music.

Spurring on to greater heights George Haslam, 65, on baritone saxophone and tarogato and drummer Paul Hession, a callow youth of 48, Bergman makes the nearly 11-minute title track almost explode out of the box. With Bergman producing high frequency chording featuring supersonic runs, glissandos from both hands, Haslam smears out swirls and chirrups from both his horns, and Hession provides rough’n’ready bounces and triplets.

Hession, who has backed Free Jazz saxophonists like Charles Wharf and Mick Beck, and Haslam who has traded reed licks with the likes of Coxhill and Evan Parker are obviously up to the Bergman challenge. Yet Bergman, whose fantasias are often able to cow reed partners as powerful as Parker and Oliver Lake, not to mention drummers like Hamid Drake and Andrew Cyrille often has the upper hands here -- and both of them are functioning like pistons throughout the disc. Breathing space is at a premium as the pianist works his way from top to bottom of the keyboard and scale at high velocity, with motifs and tremolos often fusing into a dense block of sound.

Almost as impressive is “Zircon”. But here Hession’s press rolls and flams, Bergman’s metronomic timekeeping and Haslam’s alternate renal snorts and double-tongued eastern tone suggests what Cecil Taylor, Sunny Murray would have sounded like if baritonist Hamiett Bliuett had joined them in a trio. Producing flutter tongued, individual tones from either instrument that ostensibly resemble a low-pitched fog horn and a high-pitched air raid siren, Haslam, who is as comfortable recording in mainstream settings, proves that his energy is unflagging. Bergman key clips and inscribes spinning, circular motions around the other two, though at points it appears that he’s mirroring the reed lines.

Solo, Bergman brings the same flash to those tracks, but tempers it with suggestions of jazz history. “Dusk” is an emotional ballad taken at medium tempo, which includes a melancholy tinge you would associate with the title. “Streams” finds runs doubled, tripled or quadruped. Emphasizing the vibrations of almost every key, he escapes equal temperament by appending a bit of inverted boogie woogie to the solo and ends with a ragtime tickler’s flourish.

Hession’s solo track involves compressed snare and cymbal work and vibrating undertones, while Haslam’s skirt gloom by amplifying the grainy qualities of the taragoto playing it in unison with the baritone’s pitch vibratos.

Hession has no counterpart on MOPOMOSO SOLOS 2002 -- the odd concert name an abbreviation of Modernism, post-modernism, so what -- maybe you have to be British to appreciate this. However Coxhill is on hand to display his reed prowess and Chris Burn on piano and percussion displays his keyboard language.

Coxhill’s solo is fully in the animal mode with bird-like squealing twitters and toots and what sounds like the chirps of mice chasing one another through his body tube. Add to this whistling pitch vibrations, slipslipping, altissimo trills and double tongued cries and smears and his piece is as distinctive a piece of BritImprov as Bergman’s is of American Energy Music.

So is Burn’s “Traps”. Evidentially featuring the pianist stopping the action as often as he plays it, he also scrapes up and down the speaking length of the strings, then swabs their surface to make them vibrate on their own -- and that sound is extended with pedal action. Encompassing smashes, scrapes and rubs, it often seems as if Burn is playing a capsized harp, not a piano. Additionally he seems to be loosening the tuning pins and pressure bars as he improvises, and using a sharp object or a small ball to bounce along the length of several strings to create more shaking sounds.

Guitarist John Russell and bassist John Edwards, both members of different Burn aggregations add the string element to MOPOMOSO missing on MAHOUT. Using an old dance band acoustic, better suited for rhythm guitar backing than the temperate fancies of a folkie, Russell creates a more than 14 minute manifestation of slurred fingering and downstroked plunking with the spiky parts of the notes exhibited. Segmenting his attack with pauses of up to 10 seconds, he often sounds like someone who is determined to play a traditional ballad his own way and goes off on his own harsh tangents when the steel strings won’t cooperate. For a finale, he rasps out a folksy coda with his plectrum up against the bridge

Edwards balances col legno techniques with resonation from the other strings. Thrusting out augmented, squeaking door hinges tones and lower-pitched bowing, thumps and rumbles, at one point the bassist interrupts his collecting and releasing of the strings for a double-stopping walking portion -- then ends the piece with unison bowing that produces both cello-like and double bass tones.

Another addition to MOPOMOSO is veteran soundsinger Phil Minton, 63, who has performed with everyone present at one time. While his whirling, wiggling murmur and cries, not to mention throat retching are an acquired taste, he is one of the few so-called singers to produce simultaneous vocal split tones, one high-pitched like bird twitters and the other lower pitched like the braying of a large hound.

“Quintet ‘til the End of Time”, the aptly named group track, submerges Minton’s cries and murmurs into the general narrative. With warbles from Coxhill meeting wood-scraping arco exposition from Edwards, and steady strumming from Russell plus irregular piano patterns from Burn combining, Minton’s omni-directional cries help solidify the idea of free improvisation to which all subscribe.

These CDs define improv from an American and a British perspective. Both deserve to be heard on both sides of the Atlantic.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Mahout: 1. The Mahout 2. M.E.W. 3. Streams 4. Ancient Stars 5. The Varmint (for Jack Elam) 6. Dusk 7. Zircon

Personnel: Mahout: George Haslam (baritone saxophone, tarogato); Borah Bergman (piano); Paul Hession (drums)

Track Listing: Mopomoso: 1. Brush With Gravity 2. Pufff 3. ‘M 4. Woodcuts 5. Waiting for Lol 6. Speechless 7. Traps 8. Quintet ‘til the End of Time

Personnel: Mopomoso: Lol Coxhill ([tracks 6, 8] soprano saxophone); Chris Burn ([tracks 7, 8] piano, percussion); John Russell ([tracks 1, 5, 8] guitar); John Edwards (tracks 4, 8] bass); Phil Minton ([tracks 2, 3, 5, 8] voice)

June 28, 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

ASSUMED POSSIBILITIES

Still point
Rossbin RS 007

AKIYAMA/NAKAMURA/SUGIMOTO/WASTELL
Foldings
Confront 12

Silence and the overtones associated with near silence are the guiding factors of these CDs, which both include British cellist Mark Wastell. With textural space on show and protracted electro-acoustic wheezes characterizing many of the abstractions here, neither of the two chamber-style quartets could be confused with conventional jazz, rock or New music ensembles. Neither sounds like the other either. All of which proves that there are as many variations of near silence as there are types of noise.

Part of the growing coterie of younger performers wedded to understated near-inaudibility as a style, the London-based cellist is featured here in one very familiar and another literally alien setting. Assumed Possibilities (the band) is a working group filled out by Britons Chris Burn on piano and toy piano, violinist Phil Durrant and harpist Rhodri Davies. Each of the string players has a long history with one another, having intersected in a variety of groups as well as in bands with other sonic experimenters like saxophonists John Butcher and Evan Parker and bassist Simon H. Fell.

Antithetically, FOLDINGS is a live concert recording from January 2002, which mates the cellist with three local performers at Tokyo’s Off Site gallery. Many like-minded Japanese and European musicians have improvised in this setting since no-input mixing board specialist Toshimaru Nakamura, first organized the series in 1998. Resident collaborators are customarily guitarist Taku Sugimoto, best known abroad for duets with, British tabletop guitarist Keith Rowe and Swiss computer specialist Günter Müller; and Tetuzi Akiyama on turntables and air duster, a former guitarist who concertizes with saxophonist Masahiko Okura and synthesizer manipulator Utah Kawasaki as well as Sugimoto.

To really appreciate the output on either of these discs, turn the volume knob of your playback system up, probably 25 per cent louder than usual for STILL POINT and about 40 per cent for the other disc.

During the course of the nine pieces that make up the first CD, the most identifiable sounds that emerge from the droning vibrations and textural gestures of the four are Wastell’s cello and Burns’ toy piano tinkering. On “Tyrin”, for instance, abrasive scratches on the cello’s strings and a later percussive bass line vie for sonic space with what sounds like a shrill, two-fingers-in-the-mouth whistle, a galactic screech from the violin and an unidentifiable buzzing tone.

Sharing the characteristics of a xylophone on the Wastell-composed “Related Activity”, the toy piano creates protracted glissandos and tinny keystrokes that to produce volume must have demanded more than usual finger pressure from Burns. Allied to that sound are pedal point cadenzas from the harp and intermittent cello plucks. When all the chamber ensemble strings are plinking out notes in unmatched and untempered patterns, the pianist produces a quasi-authentic clog dance on the sides and top of his veritable plaything.

All instruments here are acoustic, but somehow among the low frequency vibrations of the keyboard and the ghostly overtones from manipulated strings, the four also manage to come up with sounds that in other contexts would arise from electric instruments or at least sampling. Minimalist followers can identify when a bow takes a few swipes at a cello strings, or when a fingernail scratches taunt nylon. But surely no musician was stretching cellophane across the studio until it tore or ringing a tiny bell as some sonics suggest. Definitely too, the airplane motor drone you hear on one track, as well as the short wave radio static, police siren and reverberation of a subway train entering a station don’t result from the presence of any of these objects.

FOLDINGS, recorded almost exactly a year later, can be heard as Ur-minimalism. In fact, as the sounds on the two long improvisations move in -- and more frequently out -- of aural focus, the Tokyo quartet starts to make Assumed Possibilities sound like Grand Funk Railroad or Motley Crue. Even with a volume boost much of the first track is almost out of earshot. There’s the crackle and drone of static, indeterminate cricket-like buzzes and the whining scrapes of what’s probably Akiyama’s air duster -- at least the performance space must be lint free. Less than isochronal flick of guitar strings and fuzzy cello strokes are also sometimes heard.

With suggestions that musical movement is taking place just outside of hearing range, this sound field isn’t expanded until roughly midway through almost 29½ minutes of the second track. Wheezes and rumbles arising from Akiyama naked turntables and Nakamura’s no-imput mixing board start to move into human hearing range as does the extreme pitches produced by Wastell’s cello. Soon, what could be the sound of crickets chirping in a field is superceded by what’s likely the cellist deliberately hitting his contact mic. At last, a whippoorwill cry is succeeded by the sounds of some guitar flat-picking, a buzzing amplifier being turned on and off, and the feel of the bow bouncing against stopped strings. Textures created by a mechanized assembly line are prominent for a moment, as are intermittent string plucks and a complete chord from one of the string players. Then almost complete silence.

It may be redundant to say so, but a strong commitment to the principles of space and texture, plus an appreciation of the silences associated with microtonalism and minimalism should be brought to these discs, especially the Tokyo session. They certainly put the lie to those who characterize all abstract improvisations as noisy and ear splitting.

Whether the two groups succeed in producing microscopic sounds isn’t up for discussion here. These CDs should be heard -- if you can do so without straining you ears, that is. But the question still remains if this type of monochromic structure can’t be mixed with other sound sources to produce experimental music that offers more sonic colors along with the same intellectual rigor.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Still: 1. Kett 2. Tronig 3. Related Activity 4. Still Point 5. Starwyte 6. Needle 7. Tyrin 8. Ut 9. Riwe

Personnel: Still: Chris Burn (piano, toy piano); Phil Durrant (violin), Mark Wastell (cello); Rhodri Davies (harp)

Track Listing: Foldings: 1. First Fold 2. Second Fold

Personnel: Foldings: Taku Sugimoto (acoustic guitar, preparations); Mark Wastell (cello, preparations, contact mic, amplifier); Tetuzi Akiyama (turntables and air duster); Toshimaru Nakamura (no imput mixing board)

March 17, 2003

CHRIS BURN/JOHN BUTCHER/RHODRI DAVIES/JOHN EDWARDS

The First Two Gigs
EMANEM 4063

Good things often come in small packages.

A vest pocket version of the octet/nonet Ensemble, British pianist Chris Burn has been leading on-and-off since 1984, this quartet on its maiden voyages seems more focused than the larger group, perhaps because each of the musicians has to assert himself even more in a more compact situation.

Recorded in two different London clubs in sessions four months apart, to be honest, the performances here don’t sound at all like that of four musicians groping towards a common modus operandi. Perhaps it’s because each has some sort of playing experience with at least one of the others.

John Butcher, acknowledged as one of improv’s paramount saxophone explorers, has been associated with Burn and Ensemble since the late 1970s. Welsh harpist Rhodri Davies is another member of Ensemble and has recorded with the saxophonist on other occasions. And John Edwards may be the busiest free music bassist in London, having recorded with the likes of pianist Veryan Weston and saxophonist Evan Parker as well as Butcher among many others.

Thus all that really appears to be needed in these six longish tracks that run from 6½ minutes to a little more than 16 minutes is for the musicians to find a comfortable place, unpack their axes start playing. United in their singularity, each seems to pride himself on producing the most unusual and hithertofore unheard sounds from his instrument.

Not that novelty for the sake of novelty is being indulged. Instead, to mix a metaphor, the four see (hear?) their instruments as blank canvases on which they can project any innovative and fresh sound they want, regardless of how the instrument is supposed to sound. Identifying the source of one tone or another then becomes the listener’s challenge, with some easier to classify than others.

Sometimes, as on “The Remove”, Butcher will produce enough echo himself to make it appear that he’s improvising in a hollow cistern or long tunnel, while “Souvenir de Docteur” begins with what sounds like Edwards sawing his bass in half. In the same piece Burn appears to be playing on prepared piano strings, unlike the misnamed “Low Standard” -- it isn’t -- where you wonder whether the percussive tones arise from the pianist or the harpist.

Elsewhere, as on “High Standard”, Butcher supplants his aviary whistles and chicken clucks with a session of billowing trills, then uses circular breathing to hold one note and its resulting overtones for a protracted period as the string section bows and wiggles around it.

Summing up all that comes before and goes afterwards, “Scharlachglut”, the longest track, has time to develop from a low-key interlude to a louder, speedier mid section before fading to silence. As it develops, metallic scratches give way to what appear to be someone -- perhaps Davies -- seemingly scrubbing clothes on a washboard. For luck, or just color, Edwards begins to knock on the wood of his bass, while the clank of foreign objects announce that the piano has been prepared for a percussion function. Introducing soprano reed quacks, the saxophonist joins Burn in duet, while something that resembles the sound of grain being rolled around on the table enliven the keystrokes. With Butcher alternating among vibrato-reed kisses, key pops and subterranean tongue flutters, Edwards plucks a short counter melody.

Now that Burn and Co. have put together an Ensemble that’s compact enough to be cost-effective for notoriously cash-strapped avant music presenters, hopefully the four will play many more than these first two gigs. That way we can hear many more remarkable CDs like this one.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Low Standard 2. High Standard 3. The Remove 4. Scharlachglut 5. Russelliana 6. Souvenir de Docteur

Personnel: John Butcher (soprano and tenor saxophones); Chris Burn (piano and percussion); Rhodri Davies (harp); John Edwards (bass)

January 15, 2002