Michel Doneda

Solo Les Planques
Sillón 1

Joachim Zoepf
Production: Berserker
Nurnichtnur LC 05245

Alessandro Bosetti/Michel Doneda
Breath On The Floor
absinthRecords 007

Solo – sort of – saxophones – in different configurations are the focus of these three memorable CDs. Highlighting improvisers from France, Germany and Italy, a multiplicity of approaches and results, the discs confirm once again that in the free improv context, its not the reed as much as the reedist – plus his intellectual conception –which determines the shape of the program.

Consider Paris-based Michel Doneda. His Solo Les Planques and Breath on the floor, his duo disc with Berlin-based Italian saxophonist Alessandro Bosetti, are closely allied. Doneda has such command of his reed that on his solo session it often seems as if two improvisers are playing at the same time. Meanwhile Bosetti, who now mostly concentrates on electronics, and Doneda, both playing soprano saxophones, together function like the left and right sections of a single improviser’s brain, anticipating, accompanying and complementing one another’s breathes.

Cologne’s Joachim Zoepf’s approach seems to melds the two others’ ideas. Aided by the electronic wizardry of Berserker’s production – both pre-and-post – and using delays, distortion, double tracking and feedback, his bass clarinet and soprano saxophone textures combine, divide and contort throughout. The overall effect is as if the members of a woodwind or saxophone combo were recorded as they receive electro convulsive therapy.

To get particular, Planques is more-or-less a recital, with its seven linked tracks evolving from staccato air expelled through the saxophone’s body tube to showcasing expansive undulating note formations, lip squeaks and overblowing. Here wave forms sequentially dissolve and solidify, making the vibrating tinctures of color audible as well as the initially tongued note, and often exposing two distinct tones – as Bosetti and Doneda do jointly on their duo CD.

Doneda, who has been in the forefront of reed experimentation for years, often in the company of baritone saxophonist Daunik Lazro and percussionist Lê Quan Ninh, continues his research on this disc. Unafraid of coarseness, some of his timbres revel in the texture of the abrasive metal with which he’s working. At points one tone merely adumbrates another, or – as on the final track where he holds an almost motionless single tone for nearly two minutes – he wallows in the mono-sound.

Protracted modulations can suggest the gathering of aviary creatures at feeding time; elsewhere hissing fluctuations give way to regularized peeps; or a solo can alternately reference stolid spetrofluctuation or an earth-drilling didjeridoo-like sonic.

More than a tandem exercise, Breath on the floor expresses many of the French reedist’s advances in multiple rather than dual tones. Overblowing is the order of the day. Yet harmony and blends aren’t part of this game plan – double counterpart is. Contrapuntal, one player often sets up lip-burbling shrills, while the other counters with basso lines redolent of stomach rumbles.

Vibrations are advanced as narrow and condensed, or in contrast, wide, loud and outsized forms are expelled with shaking ferocity. Underscoring pedal point is the specialty of one saxman, while the other layers the line by progressively humming tones through his mouthpiece and body tube.

Not only is the rasping hardness of the soprano saxophone reed acknowledged, but when rubato textures resonate, the extension isn’t to extended saxophone techniques, but to percussive snorts and squeaks and internal mouth sounds that seem to clear the lungs and nasal passages. Rhythmic key percussion provides what sounds like accelerating passenger train movement on some tracks. On others, piping whines reference a rubber band being stretched to its limits or sul ponticello fiddle lines.

Regularly multi-tracked and distorted, Zoepf’s two horns on Production: Berserker utilize more of these aural comparisons – often reaching the status of non-reed instruments. Along with the saxophonist’s triple-tongued flutters and swarming buzzing trills is processing that causes chords to resonate wind-tunnel-like as if they come from a church organ. Bass clarinet played without a mouthpiece can sound like col legno string techniques, while flanged, tremolo soprano saxophone distortions take on jew’s harp-like twanging. Elsewhere overblown feedback pulled from a brace of bass clarinets is altered and converted into psychedelic-era electric guitar riffs.

Indefinite sustain that could result from using an e-bow on guitar strings also makes an appearance as well. But perhaps that shouldn’t be a surprise, since in the past the saxophonist, has collaborated with players like Hans Tammen, who specialize in similar guitar experimentation. Zoepf is evidentially interested in exposing exceptional or universal properties, not ones directly related to metal, reeds, ligature or keys.

Tracks are sometimes pointillist, assembled in dribs and dabs from understated intermezzo expansions, or more spectacularly stitched together from glottal stopping, hocketing, subdivided chirping or the use of several mics to amplify fingernail scratches to percussion. Delay and modulation allow reed tones – computer generated or not – to reflect back onto themselves, while the nearly 20-minute final “hidden” track is constructed from strident wave-form distortions, a centerpiece of pure silence – at least to the human ear – and a cumulative postlude that shrills ever noisier reed tones.

With such bravura performances, each CD suggests that its proper appreciation of comes from listening to individual tracks, rather than trying an entire CD at one sitting.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Planques: 1. DZ 2. DZ-DZZ 3. Endemique #1 4. Endemique #2 5. Vrilles 6. La Planche 7.DND

Personnel: Planques: Michel Doneda (soprano saxophone)

Track Listing: Production: 1. You can get the trouble you want by chance 2. Darwin on demand won’t help falling in love with your next door’s neighbour 3. Surrounded by some chinamen the president will call the dogs 4. Old hippies don't die in time if they are asked for 5. Hopper in the next step of the final

Personnel: Production: Joachim Zoepf (soprano saxophone and bass clarinet)

Track Listing: Breath: 1. La partie en cours 2. Verbs rather than Nouns 3. Lord Boomerang 4. Deux Encoche 5. Not only Cigarettes but Cheese 6. Migrations 7.Giuseppe Ielasi

Personnel: Breath: Michel Doneda and Alessandro Bosetti (soprano saxophones)

June 18, 2006

Baghdassarians/Baltschun/Bosetti/Doneda

Strom
Potlatch

Near Acoustic Extensions
Live
ARR

By Ken Waxman
May 16, 2005

Using a combination of acoustic and electronic impulses two Continental ensembles demonstrate how far electronics have seeped into representative free improvisations. What distinguishes the many-headed quartet from the Near Acoustic Extensions septet is that with the Baghdassarians/Baltschun/Bosetti/Doneda mixture you’re more capable of differentiating sounds from individual instruments.

Since the late 1980s, French soprano and sopranino saxophonist Michel Doneda has been exploring textures while linking improvisation to other art forms. He’s done so on his own or with playing partners ranging from French-Vietnamese percussionist Lê Quan Ninh to British tabletop guitarist Keith Rowe.

He’s also been involved in multi-saxophone recordings, including some that included Milan-born, Berlin-based soprano saxist Alessandro Bosetti. Another German, Serge Baghdassarians plays guitar and mixing desk here. His longtime collaborator is sampler player Boris Baltschun, a Paris- based native of Bremen, who works in bands with other searching Teutons such as clarinetist Kai Fagaschinski and percussionist Burkhard Beins.

Baby of the quartet in his early thirties, Baltschun is approximately the same age as the younger, all French, Parisian ensemble on the other CD. Intriguingly most of them have rock band backgrounds.

Composer and ringleader is Alexandre Bellenger, who plays acoustic guitar extended with objects and an analogue synthesizer. His longtime associate is Romaric Sobac, whose instruments of choice are turning objects, rubbings, and guitar frames. Member of bands such as Bobby Moo along with Bellenger, Arnaud Rivière here manipulates cymbals and electronic feedback. A psychomotrician in an adult psychiatry department as well as an improviser, Olivier Brisson works out on bass drum and cymbals. Metz-born, Rennes-based Quentin Dubost, plays acoustic guitar with objects, Jacques Pochat plays tenor saxophone and Thomas Charmetant cello.

It’s those last two who provide the most specific tones on Live, once you figure out what strategic techniques they’re bringing to their axes. Pochat often sticks to single note resonation or blowing colored air through his horn, while Charmetant polyphonically mixes his sharp swipes and spiccato with other impulses to make his points.

Interestingly enough, the final minutes of “Statique 3” – which at less than 11 minutes is the shorter and first (of two) tracks on this CDR – reveal that the cellist’s distinctive pattern is the leitmotif which bridges, alternates, introduces and completes the others’ statements. This is most obvious when swelling cello spiccato meets a mechanized buzz that gets louder and speedier as it’s contorted. Other tones on show through electronic oscillation include hard, sepulchral roars from the bass drum and cymbal snaps, plus slaps, pants and puffs from Pochat. All around these are clash and low frequency pressure from the synth, guitar feedback and the odd string strum plus mechanized ring modulator-like surface drilling buzzes,. The oddest moment appears when it sounds as if the cellist is virtually creating a legato melody.

Nearly double the length “Statique 2”, which actually is the second track, begins with the almost habitual free music drum stick swipe across the ride cymbal. After objects are dragged and rubbed across the floor polyrhymically, a portamento cello pattern creates buzzing interface with the ghost note and glottal punctuation spilling from the sax. Responding to this, machine-altered guitar lines get more abstract as rubbed and tugged percussion textures project on top of unvarying feedback hisses. Cross-faded tones sounding like a train engine, low in the background, then meld with synth feedback patterns and chiming loops. Wrenching scrapes from whatever turning objects may be scoured, textural percussion that may come from the guitar frame, and contrapuntal sideband shrills also figure here. Low-key, but emphasized, cross swipes from cello relate back to the tracks’ initial theme, ending the piece.

Strom’s six interrelated tracks, which curiously enough are titled “Strömung” I through VI, offer more varied textures than Near Acoustic Extensions, although fewer musicians are involved. It may have something to do with the oral instruments since both Bosetti and Doneda are capable of pitches that range from the replication of bellowing through a long hollow tube to ear-cleaning vibrations that sail past aviary trills to otherworldly sibilance.

By the second track however, reed flattement advanced and extended through a rinse cycle makes room for squeaking, unattached output signals that sound as if they’re emanating from a ring modulator. As microtonal as the intonation is, it becomes even more quietistic when, on the subsequent track, ping-ponging impulses move into the sound field. At this point Baghdassarians’ string frottage join strident tongue slaps and whistles which emerge from one saxophone and ululate over top of hissing loops. Soon the other reedman joins, weaving a dense, almost unpenetrable tone that when widened with dissonance makes it seem as if a third reed player is on hand.

Other woodwind variations include throat growls that vibrate like a doorstopper, tugboat-like honks, a quick exhalation, as if a balloon has been pricked with a pin, and puffs of airy flatulence. These small explosions of vibrated tonguing are needed to offset the reverberating voltage from the sampler and mixing desk.

At almost nine-minutes “Strömung VI” is both the climax and finale, uniting sound strategies that have been hinted at on the earlier tracks. Hollow tube harmonies, wheezing hisses, reed kisses, ghost notes and split tones from the horns meld to make common cause with – and be heard above – the bangs and sideband clanging from the plugged in electronics. Pantonal saxophone barks and guitar volume pedal swells add to the miasma that explodes into power-drill vibrations, then fades away into squeaks.

More sound seances than performances, Baghdassarians/Baltschun/Bosetti/Doneda and Near Acoustic Extensions confirm the universality of electronics in France. When coupled with innovative acoustic textures, the CDs also showcase what results when knobs and dials are manipulated by the right fingers.

May 16, 2005

PIERRE FAVRE

Saxophones
Intakt CD 093

SCHWIMMER
7X4X7
Creative Sources cs013

Superficially, it would seem that the chief difference between the reed-and-percussion sessions that makes up SAXOPHONES and 7X4X7 is that the former includes a tuba player and one additional reedist.

Not so fast -- the conception and execution of these two CDs is so antithetical that they could come from completely different musical planets. Led by veteran Swiss percussionist Pierre Favre, SAXOPHONES is on the formal side of the improv world. It alternates readings of his compositions by the complete ensemble including the ARTE (saxophone) Quartett (sic) with tracks that showcase the drummer’s extraordinary solo traps work. Berlin-based Schwimmer, on the other hand, is a reductionist combo concerned with organization of sounds in space on the border of inaudibility.

Committed to choir-like harmonies, the classically oriented ARTE Quartett has collaborated with other jazz improvisers like American saxophonist Tim Berne and Swiss saxophonist Urs Leimgruber. French tubaist Michel Godard has worked in similar chamber situations with countrymen cellist Vincent Courtois and Dutch pianist Misha Mengelberg. One of Switzerland’s earliest free players, Favre has a longtime musical relationship with Swiss pianist Irène Schweizer, as well as many Italian, German and French players such as Godard.

The cast of characters on 7X4X7 represents a younger generation most stimulated by the differences between sound and silences. Milan-born soprano saxophonist Alessandro Bosetti plays with other microtonalists like American saxist Bhob Rainey and German prepared guitarist Annette Krebs. Munich-born flautist Sabine Vogel moves between New music, pop and a duo with Australian drummer Tony Buck. Clarinetist Michael Thieke has worked with American jazzers like drummer Jim Black plus reductionists like trumpeter Axel Dörner, who also plays with Bosetti. Nuremberg-born drummer Michael Griener has the widest experience, with gigs ranging from backing up mainstream jazz guitarist Herb Ellis to playing with Dörner.

Ellis’ licks will be the farthest thing from your mind on 7X4X7 however. If the longtime Oscar Peterson sideman’s leitmotif is bluesy swing, then Schwimmer’s is a shrill, almost ear-splitting tone that for 10 to 15 seconds at a time emanates from one or two of the reeds, pushing past dog-whistle territory into the realm of discomfort.

This happens most frequently on track four, though with all the piece about the same length, the piercing tone is about all that distinguishes it from the others, since all coalesce into one piece of absolute microtonal sound.

In between these shrill ear canal invasions as well as a feline hisses and simple puffs from the reeds, are extended screw tightening noises from Griener that lead to direct hits on cow bells, hollow wood blocks and rattling maracas. Although the occasional bounce, flam and press roll is heard, most of the drummer’s conception is as involved with extended techniques, as the reedists are. Among his creations are prolonged scratches on the ride cymbal top with a drum stick, a crumpling newspaper sound and extended timbres that result from using a wire brush for swizzle stick-like motions on parts of his kit.

Not to be outdone, the horns produce throat growls from within their body tubes, Bronx cheers, reed smears, tongue slaps, the sound of saxophone bells muted against trouser legs, hisses, irregular vibrations, key percussion false fingering and flattement. Squeaking mouse tones and chickadee squeals also arise in the flute and penny whistle-like textures from the clarinet. Combing in double or triple, often broken octaves, one reed can resonate with busy wasp stings, while the other produces deep throat gurgles. Together, triple counterpoint gives the three a wider, more dissonant sound, melding and increasing in intensity until all pitchslide into polyharmonic glissandi. Meanwhile, Griener repeatedly scrapes his cymbals.

Overall, the most distinctive -- and most frequent oral technique from the reedists -- is also the simplest: billowing pure colored air through the body tube without moving the instrument’s keys. The result can be a wisp, a gargle or a subterranean roar, at intervals accompanied by compact bell-ringing tones.

This reed group is most concerned with the atonal extensions and diatonic discord available with the horns. The classically oriented Arte Quartett, on the other disc, is most involved with reed choir harmonies.

Although other tracks may show off the quartet’s gorgeous dabs of close harmony to better effect, it’s on the more than 11-minute “Anecdote”, where everything falls into place. The composition extends the pulse created by Favre with hard felt tympani mallets on the floor tom and tambourine shakes from the hi-hat, with polyphonic meshed saxophone line and focused tuba blats. Slowed down to adagio, the pace then picks up when the higher-pitches reeds meet tuba pedal point and split apart following Favre’s irregular beats. Beat Hofstetter’s soprano saxophone then twitters and trills, Sascha Armbruster’s alto draws out a straight line and Godard plays descending triplets.

In response, the percussionist showcases ratcheting bounces and cymbal splashes, which precedes the horns meshing into a jolly jig-like interface deepened by brassy pedal point blasts. With Favre sounding as if his drum polyrhythms come from barehanded pressure, the soprano sax shrills out some double-tongued atonal lines until all combine for a march-like finish.

Buzzing cymbal textures introduce resolute, massed four-part harmonies on “Passages”, with the Arte Quartett members functioning like the interconnected parts of a Swiss watch. This polyharmony also serves as a buffer for Godard’s most impressive showing -- moving andante as he builds up the multi-colored, low-pitched shades of his horn. Favre’s drumbeat is there, but is so subtle that not one of the sweet sounds is disrupted.

Versatile inventiveness characterize the veteran percussionist’s solo tracks, which of course are part of percussion DNA that that feeds younger traps men like Schwimmer’s Griener. During the course of those displays, Favre uses tympani mallets, brushes and drum sticks to create tones that include prestissimo patterns on tubular bells, an underlay of snare rumbles, rattles on bell trees and tam tams, isolated nerve beats, bongo drum intimations and flams on steel-drum-like tuned snares.

Sounds that resemble nakers or small medieval kettledrums appear as do lathed cymbal snaps and resonation that could come from circular saw motions. Don’t forget as well that Favre can also easily play a swing beat.

Approaching percussion and reeds from different angles, these fine CDs highlight the tremendous variety of what gets classed as so-called jazz or improvised music. It’s the listeners who benefit from this versatility.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Saxophones: 1. Sito 2. Solar Wheel 3. Music 4 & 7 4. Stampede 5. Anecdote 6. Les Jeux Sont Fait 7. Lea 8. Options 9. Passages 10. Hippopotamus 11. Saxophones

Personnel: Saxophones: Michel Godard (tuba and serpent); Pierre Favre (drums and percussion); Arte Quartett: Beat Hofstetter (soprano saxophone); Sascha Armbruster (alto saxophone); Andrea Formenti (tenor saxophone); Beat Kappeler (baritone saxophone)

Track Listing: 7X4X7: 1. #1 2. #2 3. #3 4. #4 5. #5 6. #6 7. #7

Personnel: 7X4X7: Sabine Vogel (flute); Michael Thieke (clarinet); Alessandro Bosetti (soprano saxophone); Michael Griener (percussion)

December 27, 2004

ALESSANDRO BOSETTI/ANNETTE KREBS

Alessandro Bosetti/Annette Krebs
GROB 540

KAI FAGASCHINKSI/MICHAEL RENKEL
Rebecca (Two Variations)
Charhizma 022

Small music duos, these CDs both featuring a woodwind player plus someone manipulating a prepared acoustic guitar, and offer a window into the state of Berlin-centred reductionist music.

Each of the duos is much more concerned about gesture, resonance and texture than melody or rhythm. Yet within these strictures the statements made differ to some extent, especially since soprano saxophonist Alessandro Bosetti and guitarist Annette Krebs divide their music into six mid-length pieces. Clarinetist Kai Fagaschinski and guitarist/zitherist Michael Renkel play two extended piece of more than 37 minutes and almost 32 minutes each -- together about one-third longer than the entire other CD.

Not only that, but while the Bosetti/Krebs tunes were recorded all of a piece in real time in one studio, improvising variations on “Rebecca” occupied Fagaschinski and Renkel for many months before the CD was made. Recorded over a four-day period in the saxman’s flat, the two variations were at that time merely the most recent conceptualizations of the music.

There’s more to it than that as well. Parsing the title, the two point out that the “concept of return” is hidden in the name, with “re” (return), “bec” (back) referring to the act of remembering, and “ca” (circa) stands for the indeterminate. A transplant from Dannenberg, Germany to Berlin, Fagaschinski has long been exploring concepts of restrained improv and electro-acoustic outsounds with like-minded players such as inside pianist Andrea Neumann, who often works in duo with Krebs -- featured on the other CD -- and in solo performance. Michael Renkel, who studied classical guitar in Hamburg, is also part of Phosphor with, among others, Neumann, Krebs and Bosetti, plus percussionist Burkhard Beins, who often works with Fagaschinski.

Although it appears to be little more than strained silence at the beginning, it’s the shorter “Rebecca (Variation No. 6)” that’s more memorable. In front of strummed guitar chords and crab-like manipulations of the zither’s single strings with a mbira-like cast, Fagaschinski rustles out key and reed percussion. When Renkel suddenly hits the front of his guitar full on, the clarinetist introduces quavering circular breathing for a few seconds. As the guitarist strums and picks resonating tone patterns, the reedist expels air currents like a lonely foghorn, creating wheezy, pinched variations on split tones.

Then the guitarist explores bottleneck variations and folk-style chording, turning first to resonating flat-picking and then banging his strings with the heel of the hand as he plays. In response, Fagaschinski blows out purposely-flat streams of colored air that literally sound like a man respiring -- not an instrument. Soon, soggy waterlogged breaths languidly follow this, as Renkel highlights percussive guitar sounds that appear to be played on the instrument’s body not the strings. Finally the plectrumist suggests a two-note rhythmic figure and the clarinetist blows a swelling reed line around it. With guttural single tones and glottal stops, the piece draws to an end, borne on a cushion of vacillating movements from preparations.

Longer by almost seven minutes, “Rebecca (Variation No. 5)” doesn’t really add much more then length to the two’s decision to improvise on the same piece over and over again. Isn’t that why conventional jazzers plays standards? Following scraped and scratched zither and guitar lines, the clarinetist advances a pure, coloratura mellow tone that intensifiers, expands and lengthens, stretching back into itself with a reed-biting augmentation. Somehow producing rolling mouth static, the clarinet tones soon meld with bouncing, ricocheting single string jumps probably from the zither. When flat out finger picking arrives, Fagaschinski first unleashes short chirrups that sound like crickets in a night time forest, then louder, more abrasive split tones that are solid in conception and non-movement. Treatments from Renkel’s side suggest electric organ tones, and as these undulate to form a continuum, the other subtly works his way down the scale ending up with near a-clarinet sounds.

Soon, in response to the resonating whack against a single vibrating string, the reedman’s line split still further, allowing him to come up with a second, complementary tone in a lower register, then a third in a higher register. Resounding and more diffuse air discharges meet the swelling reed organ tones created by preparations that then subside into nutcracker fractures and frog-like croaks. Sporting an almost vibrato-less quivering texture, Fagaschinski sounds fire-extinguisher-like whooshes. Intoning the same note pattern, the guitarist counters with finger percussion that sounds as if cymbals are being rasped and what appears to be strums on the fretguard. Ending with a tone that resembles air leaking from a balloon, the clarinetist’s wavering chalumeau timbre meets harmonically oriented plucks that meld into an almost melody

More extended techniques but fewer attachments to melody are on show on the other CD. Milan-born, Berlin-based Bosetti certainly tries to spread himself as thin as possible, being involved in text-sound compositions, experimental jazz, electro-acoustic pieces, solo sessions and reductionist snuff outs with microtonalists such as French saxophonist Michel Doneda and American reedist Bhob Rainey. Frankfurt-born, Berlin-based Krebs is another classical guitar student interested in the crossover area between improvisation and composition, exploring the possibilities of the electro-acoustic guitar involving structure, noise, the mixing of materials and space, plus using various microphones and pickups.

You can sense that during the six monochromic selections here, as rustling scrapes and shakes from the front of the guitar can often appear to be paper being crumpled, while Bosetti concentrates on hisses, rolling ghost notes and whimpers of whistling air. Although the two may not hear it that way, track four is most instructive because the face off they construct with their idiosyncratic instrumental parries and thrusts sounds like a variation of jazzers trading fours at the end of a piece. Bosetti’s initial emphasized off-key pitch almost turns to a siren wail to counter bell-pealing sounds from Krebs.

When she creates textures that resemble waves washing against the shoreline, he gets more obtuse and dusky, overblowing to produce two distinct tones at once. When she follows this with distorted fades and echoes then appears to be rubbing sandpaper right across the strings and guitar front, he chirps out shrill bird-like tones, split-second squeaks and reed percussion.

On the longer tracks the pronounced sense of structure becomes more expansive, though still in short units. Bosetti variously displays echoing wooden flute timbres, underwater bubble resonance, irregular vibratos and Bronx cheer pressure tongued against the reed and echoed within the body tube as much as from the bell. Krebs’s contributions include a growling mechanized guitar rumble, the rasp of hard objects against the strings and what appears to be the slice of an e-bow across the strands as well. If paper-shredding sounds or something that could be a car motor turning over appear in the aural field, to which instrument can they be ascribed?

The entire creation is showcased most effectively on track two. As restrained tongue slaps and flutter tonguing replace the expelling of colored air from the sax, Krebs turns her repressed scratches and far-away bumps into a dance with the plectrum on the strings beneath the bridge, the thwack of a palm against the strings and barely audible tremolo distortions. Bosetti’s tiny reed chirrups also give way to rolling, smeared reed static and trumpet-like wavering tones Soon the reedist is overblowing, but so quietly and subtly that the augmentation is in texture not volume.

Whatever you think of such experiments, both the duos here have created musical philosophies and set up definite challenges to which others must respond.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Alessandro: 1. 7:27 2. 9:50 3. 9:02 4. 5:53 5. 8:28 6. 5:05

Personnel: Alessandro: Alessandro Bosetti (soprano saxophone); Annette Krebs (eletro-acoustically prepared, tabletop classical guitar, mixing desk)

Track Listing: Rebecca: 1. Rebecca (Variation No. 5) 2. Rebecca (Variation No. 6)

Personnel: Rebecca: Kai Fagaschinski (clarinet); Michael Renkel (acoustic guitar, zither, preparations)

December 22, 2003

KEN VANDERMARK

Furniture Music
Okka Disk OD 12046

ALESSANDRO BOSETTI/GREGOR HOTZ/KAI FAGASCHINKSI/RUDI MAHALL
Berlin Reeds
Absinth Records 001

EVAN PARKER/GEORGE HASLAM /JOHN EDWARDS
Parker - Haslam - Edwards
SLAM CD314

BERTRAND DENZLER/HANS KOCH
Asymétries
Ambiance Magnétiques AM 112 CD

Woodwind players galore in solo or duo settings are featured on these CDs, which not only replicate the stratagems reedists evolve to cope with such concentrated playing, but confirm the divisions between Continental and Anglo-Saxon interpreters.

On show are seven reed blowers: one American, one Italian, two Britons, two Germans and three Swiss. The horns used include almost all the members of the saxophone family: soprano, alto, tenor baritone and bass; plus clarinet, bass clarinet and Hungarian tarogato. Oh, and on two tracks, a British bassist makes an appearance.

Taken together, the results seem to show that the English speakers, no matter how experimental, are still trying for a consistent musical statement, while the continental Europeans are moving into the realm of pure sound.

You can’t chalk this difference up to age either. Chicago’s Ken Vandermark, whose almost-66½ minute, 18-track solo session using four different horns is the most audacious disc, is around the same age as a couple of the players on BERLIN REEDS and younger than the others on that CD and ASYMÉTRIES, whose playing is ostensibly further-out than his. Moreover British saxophonist Evan Parker, whose solo experiments began around the time some of the junior woodwind players here had their lips on a pacifier, rather than a reed, creates one of the most concordant extended solos of all.

FURNITURE MUSIC is the first solo CD from Vandermark, who has already successfully forged a group identity with his own bands, and been praised for his contributions in groups ranging from Peter Brötzmann’s Chicago Tenet to duos with saxmen such as Joe McPhee and Mars Williams. Here he solos on clarinet, bass clarinet, tenor saxophone and baritone saxophone, and that may be part of the difficulty. Very few musicians are inventive on four different horns, and exposing himself alone magnifies Vandermark’s shortcomings on each. Even someone like Sonny Stitt, who was an exceptional blower on alto, tenor and baritone saxophone never attempted solo work on any of his axes.

On tenor, his most familiar horn, Vandermark has his elliptical sounds down pat, but seems to do little more than chirp altissimo multiphonics and push out swollen notes in pedal point from deep within his horn’s body. Even his version of the country blues is cut off before it reaches critical mass.

He’s a bit better off on clarinet and bass clarinet, the other reeds that have been in his arsenal for a while. On clarinet, his most impressive moments come on “Melodica” and “Leaves”. The former, dedicated to McPhee, finds him reverberating whole notes in the unruffled contralto register. Melodic enough, it could probably celebrate the other reedist more appropriately, though, if the resulting sound was faster and livelier.

The later tune, honoring filmmaker Michelangelo Antonioni, claims to be crosscutting images and sounds from two of the Italian director’s films. Here nose breaths, chirping split tones, tongue pressure and the hiss of colored air are what Vandermark hears as approximations of cinematic techniques. Yet rather than reflecting Antonioni’s hyper realism, the end result is more like that of a Hollywood-oriented American Indie flick, at least when compared to the outright radical aural cinema of Kai Fagaschinski on the BERLIN REEDS set.

Reverberations within the body tube and tongue slapping percussion characterize Vandermark’s work on bass clarinet. On “Indeterminate Action”, for instance -- tellingly dedicated to composer John Cage -- he appears to be applying any extended techniques he may have neglected on other tracks, including altissimo screeches, semi-snorts, irregular vibratos, internal growls in false registers and propelled ghost notes.

His most impressive achievement -- coincidentally the longest track on the CD -- is “Color Fields to Darkness”. Here he manages to produce a ghostly doppelgänger reedist, with one producing strident squeals and the other a foghorn tone that deepens and elongates as he plays. All this is followed by tongue slaps and twittering vibratos.

These two pieces are more exploratory than the first two tracks on BERLIN REEDS by Rudi Mahall. The Nürnberg, Germany-born bass clarinetist, who has worked with musicians such as trumpeter Axel Dörner and pianist Aki Takase, performs what could be termed standard EuroImprov on these tracks dedicated to his guinea pig [!]. Unruffled and legato, the first piece is mostly concerned with circular trills and bass echoes, not expanding until the very end into freak high-pitched squeaks, reed buzzes and a few microscopically examined wild-boar snorts. With echoing tone and reverberating bass tones the second is more of the same.

Back in Chicago, Vandermark seems most comfortable with the baritone, his newest horn. On the bouncy “Lines”, it’s almost as if he’s one-quarter of the Four Brothers, creating a chugging, foot-tapping melodic sound, almost like 1950s Jimmy Giuffre. Other tunes show off arching split tones, glissandos that give him sympathetic echoes within horn’s body tube and phrases held so long that they break apart into reed tweets and low-pitched tongue slaps. Built around unvarying lower level multiphonics, “(brüllt)”, again manages to push more than one timbre from his bell, and these join and split apart amoebae-like before turning to unrelentless honks.

He’s honorable in his efforts. But by dedicating all his improvisation, Vandermark has set himself up for sometimes unflattering comparisons to other woodwind players. Furthermore, by packing 18 tunes into 73 minutes, he may have bitten off more than he can chew, which can be quite painful with a reed instrument.

The Chicagoan’s shortcomings are put into bolder relief when compared to the solo and duo creations of Britons Parker on soprano and tenor saxophones and George Haslam on baritone saxophone and tarogato -- a sort of Hungarian wooden soprano saxophone -- on PARKER-EDWARDS-HASLAM. Bassist John Edwards is the odd man out here.

Largely self-taught, Haslam has worked extensively in Eastern Europe and South America and in many different types of music. He brings a melodious tinge to his solo playing. On baritone his dynamic sense is paramount with the lines mostly smooth and legato. Coming across like a hipper Gerry Mulligan, his rhythm always swings on an even keel. Of course, Mulligan may have been shocked by Haslam’s sometimes irregular vibrato, rhythmic tongue slaps and an ending which moves up from traditional baritone bottom-feeding tones to a bit of overblowing, side slipping and split tones.

Uniquely Magyar, the tarogato has an elastic tone that seems to add a resonant buzz to every note played, More experimental with it than his larger horn, Haslam applies spetrofluctuation, circular breathing and double timing to shake loose new avenues for his improvisations.

Wooden soprano and Vandermark’s clarinet output has to bow to the solo methodology developed and perfected by Parker and exhibited on the CD, however. Here overblowing and circular breathing allow him to slur out two very different tones, one in mid-range and the other high-pitched. Soon, with glissandos, he’s producing continuous squeak and sympathetic overtones, then smearing out a bagpipe-style irregular vibratos with high-pitched chirps on top. Like a conveyer belt of notes, he plays on and on, appearing to be triple tonguing so that there are echoing vibrations for every previous echoing vibration, and ending with a coda of one long smeared tone. At more than three times the length of any Vandermark track, his solo is also more synchronous, pointed and in context, easily related to the ongoing improv tradition.

Those who wonder where reed exploration can go post-Parker, are directed to BERLIN REEDS, made up of four, 3-inch CDs packaged in an oversized cardboard sleeve. In terms of higher-pitched woodwinds, Italian Alessandro Bosetti on soprano saxophone and feedback and German clarinetist Fagaschinski may have definite answers to that question.

Bosetti, 30, who has worked with fellow soprano saxophone excavators like France’s Michel Doneda and Boston’s Bhob Rainey, and been part of the band Phosphor with aural explorers like trumpeter Dörner and inside piano specialist Andrea Neumann, states that he’s “developed an instrumental language that incorporates extended techniques, noises, and a strong influence from electronic music”. There are times on his more than 18-minute solo track here, in fact, that the electro-acoustic suggestions seem to involve more than feedback.

Beginning with the rotating injection of pure air moving through the horn’s body tube, skids and stops then imply electronic static. Almost continuous, his tone soon gets noticeably thinner and more diffuse, taking on the oscillation of an electric guitar. With lips formed into a Bronx cheer and watery spit tones predominating, his metallic timbre almost reaches dog whistle territory. Interrupted only for the odd breath, you can hear undulating wind sounds and the clinks of keys being depressed. Soon even these give way to reed hisses, reed kisses and growling breaths amplified by key manipulation. It’s a performance that sounds more like more sibilant larynx than sax licks.

Fagaschinski, 29, a German clarinetist who has also played with Dörner and in a duo with computer manipulator Christof Kurzmann, is as radical in his presentation as his politics. On “I’m afraid of Americans too”, he’s the most reductionist of any of the extant soloists, and ironically, one whose work is reminiscent of American Rainey’s. He’s also someone who will send you scrambling for your headphones, since his almost 15½-minute solo alternates up-to-60-second pauses with tiny breaths and tongue noises plus echoing whistles. Most of the time he appears to be wheezing colored air through the instrument’s body, with even that oxygen sometimes dissolving into stillness. Fascinating in his audacity, in comparison, it’s as if he and Vandermark are playing two completely different woodwinds, rather than the same instrument.

Almost the same thing could be said about “Weggebracht!”, bass clarinetist Mahall’s final solo piece. Firmly placing himself in the ranks of Teutonic body tube travelers he screeches out extended, mountain-top high, resonating tones that then liquefy into singular, tart note spits and gritty, reed-biting double tones. All this takes place in the altissimo range and ends with a final high-pitched honk.

Zürich-born, Berlin-resident Gregor Hotz is an organizer in that city’s music scene as well as a bass saxophonist. Someone who has also played with Dörner, Mahall, Neumann and fellow Swiss reedist Hans Koch, his sax sound on “Friendly Fire” is as far removed from the mainstream and semi-mainstream conceptions of Vandermark and Haslam as their sax conception is from the 1920s and 1930s work of jazz’s first -- and for a time only -- bass saxophonist, Adrian Rollini.

Offering up a chamber music recital of prolonged exhalation, Hotz’s strategy is to start from a certain point and suspire until no more air can be expelled. He keeps repeating that trope as his vibrato gets more intense. Inserting respiratory pauses of up to 60 seconds, at times he sounds out deep-sea tones that resemble tuba blats. Avoiding that traditional low tone most of the time, though, he also bests the Anglo Saxons by frequently creating echoing, dissonant timbres and multi-tones. Coda is a heavy, snorting vibrato of few notes that transforms the sax into a percussive drone machine.

Doubling the pleasure and fun, ASYMÉTRIES joins tenor saxophonist and bass clarinetist Koch with Swiss countryman Bertrand Denzler on tenor saxophone for a four track, less-than-38-minute, reed recital. Koch who is best known for his ongoing trio with cellist Martin Schütz and drummer Fredy Studer, and Denzler, who is part of the otherwise all-French HUBBUB band, have been working as a duo since 1999.

EuroImprovisers par excellence, between their squeaks, whistles, warbles, small animal peeps, flattement, reed-biting, rumbles, irregular vibrations and Bronx cheer approximations, the two are often able to create three -- or more -- distinct sounds from only two horns.

Most descriptive of their talents, the almost 17-minute first track finds them off-handedly -- or perhaps just using the thumb rest -- showcasing reed prestidigitation without Anglo-Saxon braggadocio. Building on percussive key pops, understated tongue slaps and shakes, they create sounds that aurally mirror ghostly wind whistles, radio signals, the shuffling of cards and oscillating sine waves. Individual instrument identification is put aside, although among the tiny nursing piglet squeals, it seems that one man is expelling a watery underlying tone, while the other builds up multiple breaths that reconstitute themselves into percussion-like licks. Only on a couple of other tracks can you distinguish the woody tone of the bass clarinet, its identity is more subsumed than in Mahall’s or Vandermark’s improvisations.

Elsewhere, bassist John Edwards, who has also duetted with reedists like Paul Dunmall and John Butcher, is on hand to second Haslam on baritone and Parker on both soprano and tenor on their sax face off on the Slam disc. Unlike the Swiss, the Englishmen limit themselves to straight staccato lines with irregular vibrations, tossing phrases and notes back-and-forth. Chirping, Parker flaunts his circular breathing as Haslam’s baritone pedal point provides the undercurrent. At the same time the soprano saxist makes sure that he relates as much to Edwards’ string tugging as the baritone’s gritty slurs. Later on, the baritonist slides out some idiosyncratic constructions and Parker providing the pepping ostinato that reflects them. With Edwards’ bass bottom suggesting a third saxophone, the two real reedists turn to flutter tonguing and slurs, with Haslam more ornamental in his exhalation. Finally the two confront one another for a robust miasma of pliant reed timbres, circling around and uniting for a medley of honks, in congruent but contrasted high pitches. Unlike Koch and Denzler there’s never any doubt as to which sax is playing or who is playing it.

Every one of these sessions is valuable for reed fanciers, although some experiments are more accomplished than others. The duos confirm their talents, the Berlin collection highlights new reed researchers and Vandermark once he learns to edit himself, shows on his first effort that he can probably soon expose more elevated solo work.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Furniture: 1. Resistance [for Evan Parker]* 2. Horizontal Weight [for Peter Brötzmann]# 3. So Is This [for Michael Snow]+ 4. Lines [for Lennie Tristano]& 5. Immediate Action [for Jackson Pollock]& 6. Panels [for Piet Mondrian and Erik Satie]*7. Color Fields to Darkness [for Mark Rothko]+ 8. Would a Proud Man Rather Break Than Bend [for Mississippi Fred MacDowell]& 9. Beck and Fall [for Samuel Beckett and Morton Feldman]# 10. Melodica [for Joe McPhee]*11. Indeterminate Action [for John Cage]+ 12. Leaves [for Michelangelo Antonioni]*13. (brüllt) after Jaap Blonk # Live: 14. Panels [live]15. Immediate Action [live]16. Horizontal Weight [live]17. Color Fields to Darkness [live]18. Would a Proud Man Rather Break Than Bend [live]

Personnel: Furniture: Ken Vandermark (clarinet*, bass clarinet+, tenor saxophone&, baritone saxophone#)

Track Listing: Berlin: CD 1: 1. Unplayed saxophone CD 2: 1. Friendly fire CD 3: 1. I’m afraid of Americans too 2. No body can leave its skin CD 4: 1. Mein meerschweinchen kann das nicht 2. Mein meerschweinchen will das nicht 3. Weggebracht!

Personnel: Berlin: CD 1: Alessandro Bosetti (soprano saxophone, feedback); CD 2: Gregor Hotz (bass saxophone); CD 3: Kai Fagaschinski (clarinet); CD 4: Rudi Mahall (bass clarinet)

Track Listing: Parker: 1. Solo for baritone saxophone 2. Solo for tarogato 3. Solo for soprano saxophone 4. Solo for double bass 5. Duet for saxophone and bass 6. Trio for two saxophones and bass

Personnel: Parker: Evan Parker (soprano and tenor saxophones); George Haslam (baritone saxophone, tarogato); John Edwards (bass)

Track Listing: Asymétries: 1. Asymétries 1 2. Asymétries 2 3. Asymétries 3 4. Asymétries 4

Personnel: Asymétries: Bertrand Denzler (tenor saxophone); Hans Koch (soprano saxophone, bass clarinet)

October 20, 2003

ALESSANDRO BOSETTI/MICHEL DONEDA/BHOB RAINEY

Placés dans l’air
Potlatch P103

ROVA
Resistance
Victo cd 086

Once thought outlandish, all saxophone bands have become so commonplace in improvised music that it takes real inventiveness to differentiate any reed collective from others. PLACÉS DANS L’AIR and RESISTANCE manage to overcome this maxim, but in entirely different ways.

Actually, the superiority of the second CD shouldn’t surprise anyone: it’s by ROVA, the Bay area-based sax quartet, which has been operating in this configuration since 1978, constantly evolving and innovating. Organized as temporarily as ROVA is long standing, the trio of soprano saxophonists on the first CD is a one/off meeting among three experimental reedists: Paris-based Michel Doneda, Milan-based Alessandro Bosetti, and Bhob Rainey from Boston. Their disc succeeds because they manage to fuse their individual low-key approaches to the horn so that it appears to take on the characteristics of one immense reed instrument.

Each comes from the silence/sounds side of the improv continuum. Rainey, for instance, is part of the nmperign duo with experimental trumpeter Greg Kelley and has also collaborated with theremin master James Coleman and fellow reedist Jack Wright. Longtime innovator Doneda has worked with soundsinger Beñat Achiary, percussionist Lê Quan Ninh and fellow saxist Daunik Lazro. Member of the multi-European improvising group Phosphor, Bosetti even spent some time in the mid-1990s in the Takla Wind Quartet.

Don’t expect any conventional blending or harmonies on this disc’s more than 41½-minute continuous performance, however. Numerous and varied pitches, tones and resonances come to the fore, but the conventional sound of a soprano saxophone isn’t among them. The one strategy that seems consistent, however, is for one musician to take what in other circumstances would be called the lead, with the other two, doing what elsewhere would be called accompaniment.

Among the techniques on show are the hiss of whistling air, reverberations that could come from blowing through a plastic pipe; trumpet-like plunger spetrofluctuation; and bubble-blowing vibrations. Often each saxophonist will create more than one line himself, so there are periods when it seems that there are nine reed sounds -- echoing sounds, overtones and undertones -- floating through the air. Although aviary chirps and duck call tones fit into the scheme, swing and animation don’t. All the improvisations are linear, but often inert, moving ahead by expelled mouth pressure, not through rhythmic movement.

There are portions where the output is so hushed that even with your playback volume cranked up to maximum, it appears as if an ear trumpet could be called into play. Other times the three saxmen combine to come up with piercing, grating, reed-biting whistles that are nearly ear splitting. These segments can be so off-putting that they can put your teeth on edge -- the approximate place where Bosetti, Doneda and Rainey’s choppers are anyways.

Add to all this a reliance on slap tonguing, growls, shrills at the tippy-top of the already elevated soprano pitch, reed kisses, vibrato-laden breaths, key-popping percussion, growling rumbles and split-second snarls that could come from a trapped feral animal and acceptance of the end result on the trio’s terms is mandatory. Yet if you put aside ideas of how reeds should sound and embrace the ugly beauty of the performance you’ll be audibly rewarded.

After more than a quarter century of inventiveness, ROVA insists that you accept the band on its terms as well. Individually, and as a group, the four has worked with everyone from trumpeter Dave Douglas and pianist/electronic composer Chris Brown, to fellow saxophonists Anthony Braxton and the late Glenn Spearman. Along the way the group has tried out many musics for size. Furthermore, as these performances from 1997 (the title track) and 2002 (the two others) attest, the Californians also often offer the listener more aural signposts than the trio on PLACÉS DANS L’AIR.

Case in point is tenor and sopranino saxophonist Larry Ochs’s “The Drift”. Referencing blues, hymns and shouts it initially couples restrained blues pattern from the sopranino with an euphonious balladic melody. Soon one of the tenor saxists -- either Ochs or Bruce Ackley -- and baritone saxist Jon Raskin steps forward for a series of swinging exchanges that bring to mind baritonist Hank Crawford and tenor man David “Fathead” Newman’s work with Ray Charles band in the early 1960s.

Riffing big band horn section allusions aside, the result is such that you can actually tap your foot to the proceedings. However before the listener gets too comfortable with the pseudo-Count Basie groove, razor sharp tones help to break up the rocking rhythm into more POMO reed separations. Soon the piece is unrolling altissimo, and off beats are added to the constant rhythm. The tenor continues with his solo, the baritone provides the ostinato underneath, and after a series of honks and trills, the tune ends with unison crescendo.

At once more abstract and more traditional, “Resistance”, a group instant composition, may include pre-recorded sax quartet samples to add to the sound picture at times. But elsewhere there’s an alto saxophone solo -- probably played by Steve Adams -- which seems to be built around standard changes, and which is surrounded by the other horns emulating the close harmonies of backup singers in a doo-wop group.

Although more concerned with pitches, tones, rests and vibrations than Bosetti, Doneda and Rainey, the quartet -- and its sampled brothers -- can combine rhythmic key- pad percussion, squealing tones, tugboat-whistle shrills and a cross section of tongue slaps to recreate gridlock traffic sounds. At the same time, as elsewhere, one member will usually take what could be called the lead -- say Raskin sustaining pedal point continuum -- the others will move in and out of the backing formation, taking turns using honks and harmony to cushion or comment on the purported front line. Sometimes the bari masticates great chunks of bottom-feeding tones and other times the soprano and sopraninos combine to produce a flock of swirling, bird-like vibrations. At intervals one saxman squeezes out an achingly pure tone as the other reeds snort, honk and expectorate.

Wadada Leo Smith’s 22-minute “the M’ad Din”, with portions inspired by graphic symbols in the Koran, coalesces all these influences, adding an additional tinge of Middle-Eastern exoticism. Introducing some elevated muezzin-like tones at the top, the composition soon finds the four moving back and forth between harmonies reminiscent of a society band’s reed section and individual lines.

Anything but discordant, a burbling baritone vibrato can be followed by a piercing sound resembling that of a Persian ney. Combined, overlapping, reed barbershop quartet harmonies realign themselves in a horizontal line, with each sax man contributing in turn. Throbbing, repeated soprano tones will be interrupted by a sprightly child-like theme, or a legato, very legit-sounding reed combination will morph into Swing band sax section riff patterns. By the end, protracted, smeared baritone sax cries meet the sopranino ney-pitched phrasing, while tonal, harmonic combinations lead to a multi-varied ending.

ROVA’s members would probably be surprised to hear their music referred to as traditional, but in comparison to Bosetti, Doneda and Rainey’s it is. What this means, though, is that there’s a choice of discs here for reed appreciating improv types -- whether they’re really adventurous or really, really adventurous.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Placés: 1. Placés dans l’air 1 2. Placés dans l’air 2 3. Placés dans l’air 3 4. Placés dans l’air 4 5. Placés dans l’air 5

Personnel: Placés: Alessandro Bosetti, Michel Doneda and Bhob Rainey (soprano saxophones); Pierre-Olivier Boulant (subjective stereophonic recording)

Track Listing: Resistance: 1. Resistance 2. The Drift 3. The M’ad Din

Personnel: Resistance: Bruce Ackley (soprano and tenor saxophones); Steve Adams (soprano and alto saxophones); Larry Ochs (sopranino and tenor saxophones); Jon Raskin (sopranino, alto and baritone saxophones)

July 21, 2003

PHOSPHOR

Phosphor
Potlatch P501

Restricting itself to group music making, Phosphor (the band) has with PHOSPHOR (the CD) created a fine disc that offers up intricate abstractions and noises without focusing on individual sounds or players. It also indicates how strongly the cult of collective expression has taken hold in certain Continental circles, with Berlin as its epicentre.

Yet one should probably realize that this collection of Austrians and Germans, plus an Italian saxophonist and a British tubaist are able to create sonic magic from these micro-events because each individual has a thorough grounding in more expressive music, be it jazz, contemporary classical, electronica or noise-rock. Singly or together, the eight have worked with almost every prominent minimalist improv musician extant in Europe, North America and the Antipodes, so that ironically the band is literally an all-star aggregation. It has certainly created another crucial document that ranks with the best work of other stillness supporters, such as Chris Burns’ nonet and Wolfgang Fuch’s King Übü Orchestrü, both of which number trumpeter Axel Dörner, featured here, among their members.

As well, the sounds that are revealed on this CD range from the harshest electronic static to near inaudible tones. Mixed with such “real” instrumental tones of trumpet, guitar, tuba, percussion and soprano saxophone are not only the electronics assembled by the trumpeter and Ignaz Schick on live electronics, but creations like Andrea Newman’s inside piano and mixing desk, and Annette Krebs’ electro-acoustic guitar.

Used without gimmickry, Robin Hayward’s tuba makes the most of its distinctive appearances. Its distinctive subterranean reverb stands out from the sudden smashes of electronic static whacks of electric guitars and ringing bells that surround it on the first track. However it’s probably also the brass bass that creates what could be only be described as how a toilet in a long tunnel would sound if it exploded as it was flushed. Additionally that’s probably Hayward’s instrument in one section of the final track, or someone has recorded in stereo a full-grown rhino snoring.

Strings, probably from the guitars or piano rubbed in some way, join with Beins’ accented percussion and reverberating cymbals to give a human dimension to more electronic whooshes and static here and there’s even an identifiable horn bleat -- is it soprano saxophone or trumpet though? -- that appears. Of course when sounds turn to aviary whistles, someone (Beins?) bangs away on what sounds like metal garbage can lids at one point, and the suspicion remains that some of the lower-pitched pounding is someone’s knuckles or a string instrument’s wooden body.

There’s even some (inadvertent?) humor on track 3, when the silence is shattered by what appears to be a ping pong ball being hit. Did the group take time off for a quick set of doubles in the studio? Certainly the sound remains there even after what appears to be an old tugboat leaving the harbor moves past the ping pong table.

Still tracks two and five, the longest at 12:48 and 12:59 minutes produce some genuine, prolonged excitement. Managing to overcome self-imposed sonic limitations, the former transforms whizzing static, microscopic percussive sounds and the saxophone’s flutter tonguing into an aural picture of a tropical rain forest. Saxophone ghost notes and key pops figure on the later, with electronic thunderclaps and percussion seemingly hit at random giving way to string clicks that suggest they’re jumping from one guitar to the other. Later a just-out-of-earshot guitar melody can be heard.

This disc goes a long way towards convincing anyone that sonorous micro sounds can be created selflessly. But the band’s achievement may be sowing seeds of its own destruction. As just one of the many projects that’s raising the profiles of the musicians in this octet, it’s adding to their renown as individuals. History has shown that leaderless collectives rarely last -- ask anyone who was around in the 1968 in France or as part of the 1970s Peace The Movement in North America. Or look at the experience of King Übü, which is definitely woodwind player Wolfgang Fuch’s group, or the London Jazz Composers’ Orchestra which has always been led by bassist Barry Guy.

With these examples before you, it becomes even more worthwhile to seek out this sonically adventurous CD. This particular purposeful grouping may never exist again.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. P1 2. P2 3. P3 4. P4 5. P5 6. P6

Personnel: Axel Dörner (trumpet, electronics); Robin Hayward (tuba); Alessandro Bosetti (soprano saxophone); Michael Renkel (acoustic guitar); Annette Krebs (electro-acoustic guitar); Andrea Neumann (inside piano, mixing desk); Burkhard Beins (percussion); Ignaz Schick (live-electronics)

March 15, 2002