Evans/Fernández/Gustafsson

Kopros Lithos
Multikulti Project MP 1013

Augustí Fernández/Barry Guy/Ramón López

Morning Glory

Maya Records MCD 1001

Joe Morris/Agustí Fernández

Ambrosia

Riti CD11

Agustí Fernández & Joan Saura

Vents

psi 11.01

By Ken Waxman

Over the past 15 years Catalan pianist Augustí Fernández has become the most celebrated pianist – if not complete improviser – from his part of the world. In many ways he’s the successor to pianist Tete Montoliu (1933-1997). But while Montoliu was a bopper, Fernández doesn’t limit himself to one style, as this quatrtet of memorable discs makes evident.

A frequent associate of experimental improvisers from Parker (William) to Parker (Evan), the pianist also has a neo-traditional side, reflected by Morning Glory. Recorded in Spain and New York, this two-CD set is a spiky take on the jazz piano trio, with Fernández’s partners British bassist Barry Guy and Spanish percussionist Ramón López. More atonal is Kopros Lithos, whose experimental textures arrive courtesy of the pianist, American trumpeter Peter Evans and the baritone saxophone and alto fluteophone of Swede Mats Gustafsson. As founders of the Improvisadors de Barcelona Orchestra, Fernández has often worked with live electronics and sampler player Joan Saura. Vents is a rare duo session from the two.

Created in studio over an eight month period, Vents’ tracks are so much a part of the electro-acoustic world that it’s difficult to remember that Fernández is playing acoustic piano. Then again the keyboardist is a master of the timbres that can be bowed, plucked and strummed from internal strings, usually prepared with vibrating objects, and his expressions mate perfectly with the austere flanges and oscillations shrilled, reverberated or crunched by Saura’s electric implements. Throughout the performances onomatopoeically reflect both meaning of vent: an expression of pent-up emotion and an opening for the escape of gas to release pressure.

Although reductionist and disconnected, most of the tracks are remarkable in the way that Fernández’s tough keyboard pressure and popping internal strings add a needed humanity to Saura’s radiator-like hisses, motor-driven grinding and crackling sound patches. This is easily demonstrated on a track such as “Llevant”, with its shifting tonal centres.

On the other hand, Ambrosia is not your parents’ guitar-piano duo. It put a post-modern cast on the proceedings as Fernández matches wits with guitarist Joe Morris. Morris, who now often works as a bassist, at times manages to translate the low timbre of the four-string to his six-string. That means that echoes of double bass accompaniment is present while the guitarist showcases spiky, single-string action. On a tune such as “Ambrosia 1”, the two languidly complement one another even while distending the theme. Morris’ frails speed up to the point that they’re eventually bouncing from strings below the bridge and on the neck, while Fernández concentrated in swirling and contrasting dynamics à la Cecil Taylor.

Even though legato passages and harmonies are at a minimum, some of the tracks on this magisterial six-part suite don’t turn away from unintentional delicacy. “Ambrosia 3”, for instance, is built on gentle single-note clicking from the pianist, amplified by palm-pumps which create vibes-like tones from the guitarist. However, if some tracks come across as a discordant aural version of greyhound racing with Fernández chord-spraying as quickly as Morris string snaps, the two are able to intermingle such tactics as soundboard echoes from the pianist and slurred fingering from the guitarist to promote sophisticated parallel improvising.

Morning Glory is also wedded to acoustic expression. The CD’s 19 tracks, especially those recorded live at Jazz Standard, could be an updating of Bill Evans’ celebrated Village Vanguard sets. With his perfectly formed notes, Fernández makes his composition “David M” a piano showcase with deep ruminations in the instrument’s middle register. A swinging, near lullaby, it’s also notable for Guy’s slippery modulations that are unabashedly tonic. Barely there, with understated bounces on this track, López further exhibits his sensitive touch throughout. He confirms it on a tune such as “Don Miquel”, where his nervy tom-tom pulse and cymbal scrapes unite with the pianist’s methodical keyboard strumming to gorgeously frame Guy’s solo. Almost so-called classical in execution, the bassist manages to create two different sounds with his bow, before exciting with hand-pinched lines.

There’s a faint Latin tinge to “Don Miquel”, carried over from Fernández’s “Aurora” on the other CD. An Iberian take on Hispanic rhythms, the tremolo patterns reveal many notes in rapid succession, yet the line stretches enough to keep the impressionistic theme chromatic. Guy’s retort features scrapped and stropped strings, while the percussion undertow is mostly rim shots and what sounds like the hand-crushing of crisp paper.

Other pieces expose more abrasive back-and-forth group impov, often at lightning-quick speeds. At points Fernández’s choruses echo from the piano’s lower quadrant or he jabs at the keys while Guy bows. A perfect example of this strategy occurs on “Pepetuum Mobile” as the pianist’s chording evolves in double counterpoint with either Guy’s dobro-like twangs or bow taps against his instrument’s wood. As in most other instances, the drummer’s accompaniment is understated.

There’s no percussion on Kopros Lithos, but that doesn’t stop it from being the most stentorian of the three sets. Between Evans’ flighty squeals and wide-bore grace notes plus Gustafsson’s verbal shouts, tongue slaps and growls from his baritone sax, there’s enough discordance to go around. On a track such as “You displaced me by your singing”, Fernández adds to the general din by continuously rubbing and plucking his piano strings as well as clattering various objects placed upon them. At the same time it’s his methodical key-stopping which guides the trumpeter’s tongue fluttering and the saxophonist’s metal-scrapping honks to a more melodic interface.

Perhaps those connective timbres from the keyboard also define the message behind another track title: “My fingers were glue”. Certainly Fernández’s pressure firmly shapes the parallel improvising from the horns. Here Evans buzzes and whinnies as if a metal sheet is pressed against his horn’s bell, while Gustafsson contributes high velocity snorts and brays.

Fernández’s pianistic control while improvising in a non-conventional manner is a tribute to his skill. It’s also another indication why any and all of these discs are satisfying listens.

Tracks: Tramuntana; Gregal; Garbí; Migjorn; Xaloc; Mestral; Ponent; Llevant

Personnel: Agustí Fernández: piano; Joan Saura: sampling keyboard and live electronics

Tracks: You displaced me by your singing; My ears were ringing!; My fingers were glue; As each note rang true

Personnel: Peter Evans: trumpet; Mats Gustafsson: baritone saxophone and alto fluteophone; Agustí Fernández: piano

Tracks: CD1: Morning Glory: La niña de la calle Ibiza; Morning Glory; Unfinished Letter; Zahorí; An Anonymous Soul; Perpetuum Mobile; Benito (Jordi Benito in absentia); The Magical Chorus; Glade; Mourning; A Sudden Appearance; Belvedere; CD2: Live in New York: Don Miquel; Odyssey; Can Ram; David M; Aurora; No ni Nó; Rounds

Personnel: Agustí Fernández: piano; Barry Guy: bass; Ramón López: drums and percussion

Tracks: Ambrosia 1; Ambrosia 2; Ambrosia3; Ambrosia 4; Ambrosia 5; Ambrosia 6

Personnel: Augusti Fernandez: piano; Joe Morris: guitar

--For New York City Jazz Record July 2011

July 7, 2011

Weasel Walter-Mary Halvorson-Peter Evans

Electric Fruit
Thirsty Ear THI 57196

By Ken Waxman

Probably one of the few instances in improvised music where a powerful drummer often has to play more assertively to be heard amid the virtuosic and fortissimo sounds from the guitarist and trumpeter, Electric Fruit is a different take on the a jazz trio conception.

For a start the instrumentation is unusual. More distinctively the six tracks here aren’t designed as chops displays but as a way for three talented free-form improvisers to investigate the tonal possibilities of their instruments while aiming for a tripartite blend. Progenitor of aggressive rock-inflected improv with everyone from bassist Damon Smith to saxophonist Marshall Allen, drummer Weasel Walter is more than a backbeat specialist. Guitarist Mary Halvorson flits from folksy duets with violist Jessica Pavone to sophisticated contributions to composer Anthony Braxton’s ensembles. Known for his spectacular work with saxophonist Evan Parker and Mostly Other People do the Killing, trumpeter Peter Evans can apparently play anything and frequently does.

As a result most tunes here feature some variant of Halvorsen’s intense, distorted fills, near-psychedelic thumping and horizontal twangs, matching Evans’ top-of-range brassy trills or growly inner-horn tone evacuations, as Walter ruffs, rolls and drags. At the same time this mixture of the frenetic and the pointillist promotes unique linkages. “The Stench of Cyber-Durian” for instance finds the guitarist’s strumming so rococo that she could be playing a gavotte, and is sympathetically backed by the drummer’s clunks and rat-tat-tats. Meanwhile the trumpeter’s heraldic crescendos provide contrapuntal commentary. Walter solos most extensively on the more than 15½-minute “Metallic Dragon Fruit”, with hollow shell whacking, clave-like concussion, plus bell and snare popping. But his showcase is firmly in sync with Halvorson’s simple flat-picking which splinters and distorts as it climaxes; and Evans’ stentorian snarls, which bring out multiphonic tone extensions and a texture virtually indistinguishable from guitar intonation.

Less frantic interludes would have been welcome. But for spectacle and musicianship, this CD is a stunning debut.

Tracks: Mangosteen 3000 A.D.; The Stench of Cyber-Durian; The Pseudocarp Walks Among Us; Scuppernong Malfunction; Yantok Salak Kapok; Metallic Dragon Fruit

Personnel: Peter Evans: trumpet; Mary Halvorson: guitar; Weasel Walter: drums

-- For New York City Jazz Record March 2011

March 4, 2011

Festival Météo, Mulhouse, France

August 24 to August 28
By Ken Waxman

Proving that varieties of improvised music can sound as different as the personalities of those who play it, the annual Météo festival offered a cornucopia of noteworthy sounds from the bombastic to the barely audible, solo or in groups.

Venues in this Upper Rhine French city, located 30 kilometres northwest of Basel, Switzerland, also reflected this sonic diversity. Performances take place in the hushed surroundings of a 12th Century chapel downtown, and on the city’s outskirts, a capacious night club usually used for rock shows; and, new this year, within the expanses of an abandoned 1930s’ thread manufacturing factory.

The factory, Friche D.M.C., proved an ideal space to appreciate veteran trombonist Radu Malfatti. Accompanied by the sound wave produced by fellow Austrian Klaus Filip, Malfatti’s technique consisted of barely-there gurgles, split-second soft tones, soundless slide motions and blows across the mouthpiece – all of which were separated by lengthy silences. Contrast this with the solo tour-de-force of Swiss tenor saxophonist Antoine Chessex in the Chapelle St. Jean, which took full advantage of the building’s spatial conditions. Entering the room in the process of vibrating a high-pitched tone, he seemingly never removed the reed fom his mouth during the next half hour. His key percussion, altissimo runs and granular pulses combined to reveal multiphonics, drones with vibrating overtones. This non-stop polyphony not only refracted his ideas outwards, but as he constantly moved on stage and off, the permeative substance of the ancient walls lined with sculpted statues reflected back onto his improvisations.

A variant of this strategy was expressed at the D.M.C. by Dutch alto saxophonist Thomas Ankersmit as part of his duo with the split-screen cinematic images and electronic pulsations created by American Phil Niblock. At first, pacing back and forth while reverberating long, concentrated tones, the pressurized trills were soon not only intensified by the exposure of partials and overtones, but swelled to take on pipe organ-like qualities as Ankersmit sampled, processed, then synthesized loops of his original solo as he continued playing live. Joined by computerized drones from Niblock’s software the result was akin to surround sound stereo seeping from every part of the industrial structure. These protracted, relentless surges perfectly complemented the images of repetitive and nearly interchangeable oceanic tasks, filmed in China and Brazil.

More animated even than Niblock’s images was The Thing XXL, which boisterously dominated the Noumatrouff stage, which hosts many rock acts. If Heavy Metal Improv exists than it’s exemplified by The Thing’s core: reed-biting, note-slurring Swedish baritone saxophonist Mats Gustafsson; Norwegian Ingebrigt Haker-Flaten, who thump the bass and finger-pop its electric cousin with finesse; and Norwegian drummer Paal Nilssen-Love, with his hard-hitting backbeat. Added were Swedish trombonist Mats Äleklint, Dutch guitarist Terrie Ex and Americans, trumpeter Peter Evans and Jim Baker on piano and synthesizer.

Energetic Ex’s rough, whiny, bottleneck tones, extended by biting the guitar strings for added distortion or percussively dragging its head on the ground pushed the combo towards rock, an impression intensified when the horns combine for R&B-like vamps, Baker made like Jerry Lee Lewis and the drummer expressed himself in rolls, pops and rebounds. But while the strains of “Iron Man” peeked from among the many riffs, it also appeared as if Evans used “In the Mood” to signal tempo changes; The trumpeter’s slurring and soaring tone exchanges with the saxophonist were exhilarating – and jazzy; and Aleklint’s triple-tongued tremolo was as sophisticated as it was affecting. Although Gustafsson came across as a bar-walking Big Jay McNeeley sometimes, at other junctions he muted his sax bell against his pants leg for unusual, timbres or trilled a touching interlude on his invented fluteophone.

Of course if pure noise was literally a raison d’être, BTR’s Noumatrouff midnight orgy of aural destruction provided a reason to live. Experienced British percussionist Roger Turner, plus the crème of French sound provocateurs, turntablist Alexandre Bellenger and electronics manipulator Arnaud Rivière rumbled, squeaked, flipped, scrapped and buzzed everything in sight. Bellenger for instance, more frequently smacked the record players’ tone arms, amplified the turntable rumble to do-whistle intensity or beat on LPs with sticks than used the machine to play music. Then if vinyl wasn’t being scratched, the sounds from it were being played at warp speed, repeated endlessly for effect, sped up to warp speed or hand-propelled backwards. Meanwhile Rivière sawed or smacked whatever he got his hands on, with oversized circular blanks and other implements ricocheting to the ground as often as he played them. Meantime the unperturbed Turner soldiered on, using mallets, sticks and what appeared to be large red chopsticks to pummel his snares and toms for clip-clops, paradiddles and ruffs, pausing every so often to rub his drum heads with a small cloth or smack hand cymbals together.

Lacking a drummer, but able to summon the same rhythm, while bringing an original take to improvisations was Beirut-based Trio A. Consisting of bassist Raed Yassin, trumpeter Mazen Kerbaj and guitarist Sharif Sehnaoui – the later two also gave inventive solo concerts at Chapelle St. Jean – the textures evolved from Yassin’s bull fiddle foundation produced was mostly resting the instrument on its side and striking the strings with the bow or rubbing the wood at its belly and waist. Sehnaoui smacked his strings with a tuning fork or miniature balls with the guitar in table top position, or right-side up twanged taut claw-hammer licks or restricted himself to precision licks on its neck or on the strings below the hole. Capable of crying tremolo buzzes with plenty of tongue, Kerbaj also produced a malleable more reed-line tone as he deconstyructed his instrument. Besides blowing through individual parts, a balloon inserted between the mouthpiece and the horn’s body helped create unique multiphonic or staccato slurs, ranging from basso burps to altissimo airs. As trumpet grace notes turned to whistles and screams while the string players whapped the wood of their instruments the overall textures owed more to musique concrète than any Lebanese melodies. The finale was signaled by an unaltered trumpet blast.

Trumpet textures from staccato to soothing, plus contrasting percussion strategies, NUTS’ Noumatrouff concert supplied a positive Météo send off, as well as more examples of improvised music’s endlessly appropriate variety. Trumpeters Itaru Oki from Japan and American Rasul Siddik from are along-time combatants in the free jazz trenches, while Japanese drummer Makoto Sato and his French counterpart Didier Lasserre were a study in contrasts by themselves. Riding herd on this creativity was French bassist Benjamin Duboc. Preserving the steady chromatic nature of the interaction with thick arco strokes or using both hands to pluck, bow and vibrate a stiock placed horizxontally within the bass strings, Duboc gave plenty of space to the others. Upfront, wearing shades and a fedora, Siddik shook fragmented Don Ayler-like licks from his horn when he wasn’t banging a tiny gong with a mallet, ratcheting a selection of wooden implements or shaking maracas. Equally resplendent in slouch cap and silvery outfit, Oki blew liquid staccato timbres from his upturned horn, occasionally unfurling a rubber hose or blowing simultaneously on two wooden flutes to realign the wriggling contrapuntal output of the brass. Never trading fours, but always cognizant of each other’s movements, Sato and Laserre knit a rhythmic carpet. Using a standard kit, with more mallet work than per usual, Sato provided the beat. Limited to hi-hat, one snare and a bass drum, the percussionist broke up the time by scraping chains, a tambourine and a detached snare on his snare skin, as well as sawing on a cymbal in tandem with Ito’s flute flight. Besides this his rolls and drags were enough to project the rhythmic necessities.

Other performers, including those whose allegiance to too-heavy rock beats or overpowering electronic pulses as well as cerebral sound experiments also played, but no matter in what formation or surroundings, each to a greater or lesser extent confirmed Météo’s commitment to sonic diversity.

--For All About Jazz New York October 2010

October 6, 2010

Festival Report:

Freedom of the City 2010
By Ken Waxman

“To Thine Self Be True” is lettered horizontally in careful script above the stage at Conway Hall in London’s Bloomsbury district, where London’s annual Freedom of the City (FOTC) festival took place May 2 and 3. Although related to the philosophy of the Ethical Society which built the edifice in 1929, the slogan can easily also be applied to five dozen or so improvisers featured at FOTC.

Organized about decade ago by saxophonist Evan Parker and AMM percussionist Eddie Prévost to showcase the city’s vibrant improvising scene, FOTC today welcomes as many tyros as veterans – and from the Continent and North America as well as the United Kingdom. Participants ranged from eccentric soprano saxophonist Lol Coxhill, 77 and American trumpeter Ishmael Wadada Leo Smith, 67, to young participants in Prévost’s weekly improv workshop and American brassman Peter Evans.

One first-class demonstration of FOTC’s mix’n’match philosophy was the set by London guitarist John Russell’s Quaqua, consisting of musicians he plays with elsewhere, but who never worked as a group. Besides Russell, pianist Chris Burns, synthesizer player Matthew Hutchinson violinist Satoko Fukuda and trumpeter Henry Lowther are British; alto saxophonist Stefan Keune is German and soundsinger Jean-Michel Van Schouwburg is from Brussels. Shifting among Russell’s licks that ranged from rhythm guitar strums to pinging twangs plus spiccato fiddle scrapes and buzzes and bell-like twitters from the synth, the ever-shifting interface made room for bursts of lyrical trumpet, unaccented air from the saxophonist – both sounds which are replicated by Hutchinson’s synthesizer – and slides, stops and strums from the piano’s internal strings created by fingers, mallets and an e-bow. Most expressive in reflecting the split-second decisions that go into group improvising was Van Schouwburg whose facial expressions contorted themselves differently whether he was soothingly lullabying, Apache yelling or duck quacking.

German vocalist Ute Wassermann was much less flamboyant but as expressive during her meeting with two British electronic manipulators – Adam Bohman and Paul Obermayer – plus percussionist Phillip Marks. Marks, a last-minute replacement for Obermayer’s FURT partner Richard Barrett, varied his output among rat-tat-tats, rim shots, snare pops and drum top rubs, leaving ample space for squeaks, crackles, hisses and reverberations from the electronics. Meanwhile Wassermann – whose vocal gymnastics ranged from mouth-widening cries and gurgles to bel-canto warbles – ensued that her improvisations were in synch with the others’ sonic shifts.

Percussion sounds were more upfront when South African Louis Moholo-Moholo and Briton Steve Noble combined behind trumpeter Smith. Although more jazz-oriented than most improvisations during FOTC’s 16 concerts, this was no Rich vs. Roach battle royal. Instead either could elaborate on any rhythm generated by the other, although Moholo-Moholo’s smacked ruffs and tympani-like resonations toughed the beat, which was nimbly redefined by Noble’s vibration of undersized cymbals on drum tops, swish through the air of what resembled palm fronds, or bongo-like pops with bare hands or wetted fingers. Blasting grace notes with a clear, bright tone or fluttering rubato through a Harmon mute, the trumpeter eventually settled on staccato and juicy bugle-like flutters after the drummers’ rhythms dislocated his sedate tongue flutters.

Smith’s musical adaptability was highlighted in two other situations: as featured soloist in a concerto backed by the 40-member London Improvisers Orchestra conducted by guitarist Dave Tucker; and as part of FOTC’s last set with clarinetist Alex Ward guitarist John Coxon, keyboardist Pat Thomas and drummer Paul Lytton.

Unlike the conductions and group improvisations that made up the remainder of the LIO’s set, which lurched from passages of controlled tutti cacophony to miniature set pieces for soloists such Charlotte Hug’s spirited, sawing violin runs or Coxhill’s understated off-centre lyricism, the Smith piece was as interconnected as Gil Evans’ arrangements for Miles Davis. Unruffled, Smith splintered timbres that floated as often as they popped, isolating his textures from the riffing reeds, lowing brass and the clamber let loose when three drummers, two electric guitars, two pianists, a vibraphonists and three electronics manipulators polyphonically sound simultaneously.

Before Smith and crew wrapped things up, other notable meetings included a set by the Stellari String Quartet of violinists Hug and Philipp Wachsmann, cellist Marcio Mattos and bassist John Edwards whose layered textures demonstrated that intersecting and combining well-designed arco and pizzicato run extends classic string ensemble strategies into atonality and multiphonics, while retaining moments of lyricism; and the duet between tenor and soprano saxophonist John Butcher and percussionist Mark Sanders. Switching from one horn to the other, and utilizing staccato pops, gravelly tones and a wide, round mouth vibrato, Butcher’s elongated flutters, reed bites, slaps and flutters enlivened the duet either mid-range, barely there or fortissimo. Meanwhile Sanders clattered, slapped and shook different parts of his kit, at one point stabilizing the interaction with military precision, anther not only whapping a small bell and wood block, but using them instead of sticks on drum tops.

Percussionist rather than drummer, Prévost played in two formations, most notably eschewing the standard kit for an enormous gong and ancillary cymbals in a set with baritone saxophonist David O’Connor, violinist Jennifer Allum and Grundik Kasyansky on electronics. With the saxman expelling high intensity, tongue slaps and fortissimo yelps; the fiddler striking her strings with the bow’s frog when not scrubbing them, and Kasyansky dislocating time with bursts of static, crackles and snatches of processed voices, Prévost maintained equilibrium, by sawing upon the gong or rubbing squeaking timbres from the tempered metal.

Parker played in a unique trio filled out by cellist Okkyung Lee and Evans – who used piccolo and regular trumpet in a solo set that opened FOTC; puffing, vocalizing, screaming and even melodiously sounding his horn(s) with effects and to spectacular effect. With Lee’s connective ostinato underneath, Evans’ phenomenal brass command was matched and reined in by Parker on tenor and soprano saxophone, demonstrating the ease in which tone splintering, circular breathing and flutter tonguing could be amplified with lyrical twitters and peeps. In double counterpoint the horn players both exercised super-fast tonguing or built gurgles, puffs and tongue clacks into a satisfying textural display.

Also satisfying was the concluding quintet set. Mixing metallic twang from Coxon’s guitar, a combination of breakneck piano runs plus jagged synthesizer pumps from Thomas and the steady clatter and cymbal scratches from Lytton, the developing stop-time improvisation finally reached a point of layered cacophony. But this wasn’t before Ward extended the sound palate from his purposely whiny lines and altissimo screams by blowing into his unattached mouthpiece. Meanwhile Smith used vibrato buzzes to propel soaring high-pitched triplets over the others’ sounds.

Told after the climatic finale that there was only time for a short tune, Smith theatrically unleashed a curt flourish of brassy insouciance and led the others off stage. Adding a particular brand of Yankee showmanship to the proceedings and confirming the slogan above the stage, the trumpeter summed up the proceedings and set the stage for future FOTCs.

-- For All About Jazz – New York June 2010

June 6, 2010

Mostly Other People Do The Killing

Forty Fort
Hot Cup 091

Jon Lundbom & Big Five Chord

Accomplish Jazz

Hot Cup 093

Pastiche, post-modernism and parody are the words that come to mind when examining discs by these youngish interconnected improvisers. Having expanded their chops in post-secondary academic surroundings; having internalized the message of downtowners like John Zorn that no music is sacrosanct; and having adopted the D-I-Y ethic of indie-rockers to release their own recordings – plus possessing formidable talent – these musicians have quickly made names for themselves. Yet as swinging and entertaining as many of the tracks are on these CDs – and they are that in spades – the question of what the next step should be for these seven players hangs in the air.

Recently, Mostly Other People Do The Killing (MOPDTK) has amassed accolades, poll and contest wins and legitimacy as stylists, without any smooth jazz or pop-jazz pandering. All of tracks on Forty Fort – composed with one exception by bassist Moppa Elliott – move with the sort of relentless rhythm that draws in the dilettantes, but also has enough twists and turns in them to impress committed jazzers.

MOPDTK’s parodistic style is most obvious in the packaging. With liner notes by Leonard Featherweight – a jibe at the late jazz critic Leonard Feather – the CD packaging is an exact replica of Roy Haynes’ Out of the Afternoon LP, complete with the four disguised in period sportswear. Saxophonist Jon Irabagon is made up as Rahsaan Roland Kirk, complete with cane and dark glasses; with peaked cap and striped sports shirt trumpeter Peter Evans pretends to be Tommy Flanagan; the dapper Haynes is emulated by drummer Kevin Shea, holding a cymbal, as did the other drummer on the original LP cover; and Elliott replicates the stance and outfit of bassist Henry Grimes. Earlier CD covers by the self-described terrorist bebop band replicate a version of Ornette Coleman’s This is Our Music and Freddie Hubbard’s Night of the Cookers LPs.

Accomplish Jazz’s cover image steers clear of replication, although tellingly particular musical references seem to abound in the pieces composed by guitarist Jon Lundbom. Elliott and Irabagon are on this CD as well, with the quintet filled out by Australian drummer Danny Fischer and tenor saxophonist Bryan Murray, whose leadership of “New York’s only avant-country Merle Haggard cover band” no doubt came in handy when the five tackles The Louvin Brothers’ “The Christian Life” – although no doubt more people know the song from a version by the Byrds.

Besides that cover tune, “Tick-Dog” based on Cedar Walton’s “Bolivia” is the only official contrafact here. Yet throughout memories of themes first played by Eric Dolphy on his Prestige LPs, any number of ECM guitar-oriented sessions, as well as early 1970s Atlantic funk-jazz riffs are in evidence. “Baluba, Baluba” for instance ends the date with a episode of call-and-response hocketing and slurring from the saxophonists, evolved on top of a steady shuffle beat from Fischer. Earlier on, Irabagon’s agitato and andante double tongued stuttering twins Lundbom’s cascading strums and distorted frails to such an extent that the saxophonist may frighten those who only know him as Thelonious Monk Jazz Competition winner.

Big Five Chord’s contradictory side is expressed best on “Phoenetics”, a lyrical waltz that contrast’s Murray’s moderato tenor saxophone lines with guitar strumming and double bass pops. Before a countrified guitar lick changes the piece’s direction, the alto saxophonist lines up with Lundbom’s melodious runs. The remainder of the tune centres on prickly flat-picking, with the guitarist seemingly isolating every note he plays.

Although “The Christian Life” too ends with a recapped head that slips dangerously close to a campfire sing-along, earlier on the nearly vocalized theme alternates with more repeated sing-song textures from the horns which move from moderato to atonal, then to agitato and finally back to moderato. The guitarist’s echoing licks stay in mid-range, while Elliott’s bass solos encompass sul tasto plucks and twangs as well as a walking beat.

Walking, thumping and slapping also characterize Elliott’s bass wok on Forty Fort, with the other members of MOPDTK operating in similar hard and hearty fashion. Hearing Evans whinny and wiggle with brassy Dixieland-styled triplets and Ragtime syncopation on “Pen Argyl” for instance, makes it heard to reconcile that trumpeter with the committed avant gardist, frequently part of saxophonist Evan Parker’s circle. Then again Parker is not known to play over a bugaloo beat complete with chinging cymbals and slap bass lines. Other tunes here reference funk and rock as often s they do Hard Bop or Energy Music with shuffle beats as prominent as sputtering glossolalia.

The title tune for instance is a snaky jazz-dance with the theme spinning between contrapuntally voiced horns and thick bass slaps. Solos include Irabagon’s calculated pitch variations and Evans’ obbligato turning to slithering fortissimo, as one note hovers on top of the bassist’s guitar-like pickling for an extended period. A final variant includes call-and-response from the horns as the speed and velocity of Shea’s drums quicken the pace with ruffs, rim shots and rebounds.

“St. Mary’s Proctor” on the other hand ends up sounding like a broken-octave circus melody that could have been played by the ICP or Italian Instabile orchestras. Evans assays a languid Pino Minafra-like solo which eventually turn staccato, bringing in the nodes and extensions of the notes directly above and below those he’s sounding. Flutter-tongued intensity is the saxophonist’s contribution, while nerve beats and rim shots from the drummer precede a thematic exit in horn double counterpoint.

Elliott’s MOPDTK and Lundbom’s Big Five Chord prove their versatility and skill in many improvised idioms as they accomplish jazz on these two CDs. Each session is a helluva lot of fun for band members and listeners alike. But each leader – and many of the sidefolk – should be asking themselves if fun can be translated into something more profound next time.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Forty: 1. Pen Argyl 2. Rough and Ready 3. Bluer Ball 4. Nanticoke Coke 5. Little Hope 6. Forty Fort 7. Round Bottom, Square Top 8. St. Mary’s Proctor 9. Cute

Personnel: Forty: Peter Evans (trumpet); Jon Irabagon (alto and tenor saxophones); Moppa Elliott (bass) and Kevin Shea (drums)

Track Listing: Accomplish; 1. Truncheon 2. Phoenetics 3. The Christian Life 3. Tick-Dog 4. Baluba, Baluba

Personnel: Accomplish: Jon Irabagon (alto saxophone); Bryan Murray (tenor saxophone); Jon Lundbom (guitar); Moppa Elliott (bass) and Danny Fischer (drums)

April 29, 2010

John Butcher Group

Somethingtobesaid
Weight of Wax WOW 02

Evan Parker Electro-Acoustic Ensemble

The Moment’s Energy

ECM 2066

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

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

Okkyung Lee/Peter Evans/Steve Beresford

Check for Monsters
Emanem 5002

Peter Evans/Tom Blancarte

[sparks]

Creative Sources CS 119 CD

One of a crop of younger players who are slowly redefining the trumpet’s role and range, New York-based Peter Evans stands out. Classically trained, his use of the piccolo trumpet as well as the regular model allows him to access the minimalist aspects of other experimentalists without neglecting the literal brassy qualities which have been the trumpet’s raison d’etre since the days of John Philip Sousa and Louis Armstrong.

As a matter of fact, there are portions of Check for Monsters where his interaction with British pianist Steve Beresford could be an off-the-wall updating of Armstrong’s late 1920s duets with pianist Earl “Fatha” Hines. Followers of Classic Jazz are unlikely to be making a bee line for this or the other disc though, since the improvisational tropes will never be confused for “Muskrat Ramble” or “The Washington Post” march for that matter. At the same time Evans, who also works in contemporary and Baroque so-called classical settings, somehow manages in his playing to extract from his horn textures that ordinarily would be linked to the saxophone. It may be bravura, but the timbres also reflect upon the dual history of those instruments and the saxophone’s birth as part of brass marching bands.

No slouch himself when it comes to outputting percussive measures from his instrument, a few of London-based Beresford’s runs here relate back from free improvisation to honky-tonk chording, not to mention syncopated versions of classically-oriented marches. The pianist, whose playing partners over the years have included drummer Han Bennink, saxophonist John Butcher as well as stints composing film soundtracks, is perfectly adaptable. The third “monster checker” is Korean-born, New York-based, cellist Okkyung Lee who often utilizes extended techniques from her classical background in situations involving dancers and chorographers as well as free improv. Meanwhile, the other half of the [sparks] duo is another New Yorker, bassist Tom Blancarte. A fully committed improviser, his initial influences were Metallica [!] and Black Sabbath [!!].

One may wish that some of those bands’ heavy metal assertiveness beefed up Lee’s inhibited work on Monsters, however. Every spirited sul tasto scratch or sweeping connective slice audible from her cello faces more upfront textures from the other two. Throughout the oddly named pieces the pianist sways and pumps high frequency chords, paced piano thumps and kinetic cadenzas. Meanwhile the trumpeter displays whinnying counter tones, internal breath squeaks, patterning tongue slaps and burbling tones. Over and over, at various speeds, Evans’ triplet exposure and capriccios of staccato timbres rub up against Beresford’s improvisations.

As a change of pace “Gwendol ap Siencyn” is low-key and balladic at the beginning, with piano clusters and brief arpeggios until Beresford’s preoccupation opens up into emphasized cross tones. Finally Lee’s splintering spiccato moves upfront as Evans aggressively gooses the tempo for a nearly limitless series of shrieks and note division, Lee responds in kind with multi-stopping – scrubbing and vibrating her strings – then the pianist bringing things to the end with pseudo boogie-woogie runs.

Recorded two years earlier, the duo with Blancarte is a different matter. The seven improvisations with Gnostic titles similarly bewildering as those on the other CD seem to be more of a meeting of equals. Suggesting that a youth digging Geddy Lee and John Paul Jones may not be completely misspent, the bassist produces powerful tones in a variety of times and tempos. Blancarte’s broken octave stops not only pump up rhythmic responses, but also include enough shuffle bowing and sul ponticello movements to demonstrate that Evans’ output doesn’t overawe him. Abrasively rubbing the bull fiddle’s thick strings if faced with Evans’ multiphonic brays, the bassist’s game plan seems invariably to respond chromatically so the tunes’ basic movement remains evident.

Concentrating on the piccolo trumpet, Evans’ solos are hocketing, rubato and studded with grace notes. Additionally, they’re equally spectacular whether muted to growled interface; slurred saxophone-like from within the capillary cavity; studded with tongue slaps that sound like pistol shots; or include so many tones and timbres that he appears able to sound a cavalry charge and “reveille” simultaneously.

Notable exhibition of the trumpeter’s art, these CDs add to Evans’ growing discography, while recent reports indicate that more extravagant brass feats are in the offing.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: sparks: 1. Xangu 2. Summanus 3. Ukonvasara 4. Mulungu 5. Kw-Uhnx-Wa 6. Ishkur 7. Ajisukitakahikone

Personnel: sparks: Peter Evans (piccolo trumpet) and Tom Blancarte (bass)

Track Listing: Monsters: 1. Phacthio 2. Yinothanot 3. Egokrlo-nar 4. Gwendol ap Siencyn

Personnel: Monsters: Peter Evans (piccolo trumpet and trumpet); Steve Beresford (piano) and Okkyung Lee (cello)

June 28, 2009

Peter Evans/Tom Blancarte

[sparks]
Creative Sources CS 119 CD

Okkyung Lee/Peter Evans/Steve Beresford

Check for Monsters

Emanem 5002

One of a crop of younger players who are slowly redefining the trumpet’s role and range, New York-based Peter Evans stands out. Classically trained, his use of the piccolo trumpet as well as the regular model allows him to access the minimalist aspects of other experimentalists without neglecting the literal brassy qualities which have been the trumpet’s raison d’etre since the days of John Philip Sousa and Louis Armstrong.

As a matter of fact, there are portions of Check for Monsters where his interaction with British pianist Steve Beresford could be an off-the-wall updating of Armstrong’s late 1920s duets with pianist Earl “Fatha” Hines. Followers of Classic Jazz are unlikely to be making a bee line for this or the other disc though, since the improvisational tropes will never be confused for “Muskrat Ramble” or “The Washington Post” march for that matter. At the same time Evans, who also works in contemporary and Baroque so-called classical settings, somehow manages in his playing to extract from his horn textures that ordinarily would be linked to the saxophone. It may be bravura, but the timbres also reflect upon the dual history of those instruments and the saxophone’s birth as part of brass marching bands.

No slouch himself when it comes to outputting percussive measures from his instrument, a few of London-based Beresford’s runs here relate back from free improvisation to honky-tonk chording, not to mention syncopated versions of classically-oriented marches. The pianist, whose playing partners over the years have included drummer Han Bennink, saxophonist John Butcher as well as stints composing film soundtracks, is perfectly adaptable. The third “monster checker” is Korean-born, New York-based, cellist Okkyung Lee who often utilizes extended techniques from her classical background in situations involving dancers and chorographers as well as free improv. Meanwhile, the other half of the [sparks] duo is another New Yorker, bassist Tom Blancarte. A fully committed improviser, his initial influences were Metallica [!] and Black Sabbath [!!].

One may wish that some of those bands’ heavy metal assertiveness beefed up Lee’s inhibited work on Monsters, however. Every spirited sul tasto scratch or sweeping connective slice audible from her cello faces more upfront textures from the other two. Throughout the oddly named pieces the pianist sways and pumps high frequency chords, paced piano thumps and kinetic cadenzas. Meanwhile the trumpeter displays whinnying counter tones, internal breath squeaks, patterning tongue slaps and burbling tones. Over and over, at various speeds, Evans’ triplet exposure and capriccios of staccato timbres rub up against Beresford’s improvisations.

As a change of pace “Gwendol ap Siencyn” is low-key and balladic at the beginning, with piano clusters and brief arpeggios until Beresford’s preoccupation opens up into emphasized cross tones. Finally Lee’s splintering spiccato moves upfront as Evans aggressively gooses the tempo for a nearly limitless series of shrieks and note division, Lee responds in kind with multi-stopping – scrubbing and vibrating her strings – then the pianist bringing things to the end with pseudo boogie-woogie runs.

Recorded two years earlier, the duo with Blancarte is a different matter. The seven improvisations with Gnostic titles similarly bewildering as those on the other CD seem to be more of a meeting of equals. Suggesting that a youth digging Geddy Lee and John Paul Jones may not be completely misspent, the bassist produces powerful tones in a variety of times and tempos. Blancarte’s broken octave stops not only pump up rhythmic responses, but also include enough shuffle bowing and sul ponticello movements to demonstrate that Evans’ output doesn’t overawe him. Abrasively rubbing the bull fiddle’s thick strings if faced with Evans’ multiphonic brays, the bassist’s game plan seems invariably to respond chromatically so the tunes’ basic movement remains evident.

Concentrating on the piccolo trumpet, Evans’ solos are hocketing, rubato and studded with grace notes. Additionally, they’re equally spectacular whether muted to growled interface; slurred saxophone-like from within the capillary cavity; studded with tongue slaps that sound like pistol shots; or include so many tones and timbres that he appears able to sound a cavalry charge and “reveille” simultaneously.

Notable exhibition of the trumpeter’s art, these CDs add to Evans’ growing discography, while recent reports indicate that more extravagant brass feats are in the offing.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: sparks: 1. Xangu 2. Summanus 3. Ukonvasara 4. Mulungu 5. Kw-Uhnx-Wa 6. Ishkur 7. Ajisukitakahikone

Personnel: sparks: Peter Evans (piccolo trumpet) and Tom Blancarte (bass)

Track Listing: Monsters: 1. Phacthio 2. Yinothanot 3. Egokrlo-nar 4. Gwendol ap Siencyn

Personnel: Monsters: Peter Evans (piccolo trumpet and trumpet); Steve Beresford (piano) and Okkyung Lee (cello)

June 28, 2009

Jon Irabagon

Outright!
Innova Records 699

Mostly Other People Do the Killing

This Is Our Moosic

Hot Cup 082

Alto saxophonist Jon Irabagon, who migrated from suburban Chicago to Astoria, Queens, working with different bands in clubs and studying music along the way, won the 21st annual Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition last October. On the evidence of these CDs, it’s easy to see why.

Possessed of an upfront style, strong chops and a thorough understanding of the tradition, Irabagon composes swinging and sometimes complex tunes and is a mainstream polymath who obviously impressed representatives of the jazz establishment who hand out awards. No show-boater, the reedist takes only slightly more solo space on his debut session as he gets on This Is Our Moosic and is surrounded on both discs by the highest grade of young New York-centred talent. Overall though, he fares better as one interlocking clog of bassist Moppa Elliott’s extravagantly named Mostly Other People Do the Killing (MOPDtK), then on his own.

Why? Evidently trying to touch all bases on Outright, the alto man and his squad – trumpeter Russ Johnson, keyboardist Kris Davis bassist Eivind Opsvik drummer Jeff Davis plus guitarist Jesse Lewis and programmer Chris Cash on different tracks – brush against nearly every modern jazz current without settling on or buttressing any one with an exclusive statement. MOPDtK’s equally eclectic session at least cleaves to its stance as a “terrorist Bebop” band and interpolates unexpected sound currents on Elliott’s version of POMO deconstruction.

With a CD cover that parodies Ornette Coleman’s “This is Our Music” LP – MOPDtK’s previous disc lampooned original Blue Note records’ distinctive colossal typography and faux-erudite liner notes – the band parades its influences upfront, but isn’t afraid to mess with expectation, something Irabagon merely touches on as leader.

Plus the MOPDtK tunes seem to better articulate the band members’ varied backgrounds. Trumpeter Peter Evans for instance, also plays microtonal solo trumpet, has worked with European avant gardists like British saxophonist Evan Parker, plus performs on piccolo trumpet in Baroque settings. Kevin Shea also drums with synthesizer player Matt Mottel in Talibam! and has a duo with guitarist Mary Halvorson; while Elliott teaches math and music. On his own, Irabagon plays in both Bop and 1980s pop cover band. MOPDtK covers Billy Joel’s “Allentown” at his insistence.

More generic to the group’s concept is Elliott’s compositional conceits. “My Delightful Muse” for instance is labeled funk, but comes across more like Dixieland call-and-response. On its axis is Evans spraying choruses of growls and tattoos, followed by piles of staccato triplets. With Irabagon alternately snorting and squeezing agitato wails and mouse squeaks, the tune reaches a climax of echoing double counterpoint while Shea rings glass armonica-like concussions and Elliott slaps his strings. With the horns and rhythm section sounding similar notes in different tempi, all eventually slide back to the Trad-Jazz replication with sul tasto bass lines serving as the finale.

Other pieces reference everything from the Batman theme to “Sidewinder”-styled funk, with Hard Bop licks and rock-styled backbeats appearing and vanishing at different junctures. “Drainlink” for example, has the saxophonist building tension while stuttering a stop-time chorus, as the bassist hits strings and wood repeatedly. “Fagundus” is another jumping Bebop tune encompassing a rasping counter line from Evans as simultaneously Irabagon extends his emotional flutter tonguing with pulsating slurs.

Defining and definitive “Effort, Patience Diligence” is a bravura 12/8 head, which packs nearly every blues cliché into fewer than six minutes. With Elliott walking, Shea shaking bells and tambourines plus Evans squeezing notes until they bray, it’s an undulating, chromatic melody that could have sneaked over from a Preservation Hall Jazz Band session, until, of course, the saxophonist breaks things up with tongue stops and reed bites.

Perhaps Irabagon’s debut disc should have demonstrated the same faith in eclecticism. Never less than professional, it resounds with a Back to the Future vibe much of the time. Included are a POMO run through of “Groovin’ High”; unaccompanied downward slurs and burbles from the horns on another tune that seems to replicate the “Lonely Woman” head; and a skewed neo-Dixieland party-time take on the band’s theme complete with fluid clarinet licks and lurching, almost inchoate rhythmic overflow.

More notable are “Charles Barkley” and “That Was Then”. The former is built on stops from bassist Opsvik, a Norwegian living in New York, who also works with tenor saxophonist Tony Malaby, and the strumming arpeggios and block chords of Canadian expatriate pianist Davis. As drummer Davis rolls and pumps and Johnson blasts a near freylach line, Irabagon turns the piece around with stop-time and rubato meandering, halving the tempo with a cut-and-thrust solo that’s half Hard Bop and half Free Time. With the husband-and-wife piano/drums team playing at double tempo, hip-hopping back to the original swinging theme, the alto man eventually reveals his inner Hank Crawford, while Johnston exposes his inner Marcus Belgrave.

As for the later tune, a sweeping panoramic trumpet exposition over woody bass thumps eventually gives way to Davis eschewing low-frequency chords at the top end for lurching organ note clusters mated with the drummer’s shuffle beat. Following a mid-section taken up by guest guitarist Lewis spewing sprays of pop-rock licks and crunching, distorted chords, vocal backing from the so-called “mixed choir” of musicians doesn’t quite get the piece back on track.

In fact, the most out-of-character composition – for Irabagon at least – is “Quorum Call”, which posits a move away from the expected. Pianist Davis introduces the later tune with some inside-piano string clipping and soundboard rumbles that soon mix it up with muffled grace notes from Johnson and cascading vibrations from the saxophonist. Defining itself as an antiphonal freeform interlude, the composition rests on busy paradiddles and military-style press rolls from drummer Davis. Also present are oscillated knob-twisting from Cash that practically redefines the composition until a Hard Bop-like head kicks in, redirecting the piece to exit with rolling, kinetic cadences from the pianist and pops and drags from the drummer.

Obviously someone with a burgeoning reputation, Irabagon has promise – definitely as a sideman in a close-knit, organized band as MOPDtK’s CD demonstrates –but thus far has yet to make a major recorded statement. Nevertheless, judging from these discs, it’s hoped that in future he will develop into a notable stylist – and not just another poll winner.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Moosic: 1. Drainlick 2. Two Boot Jacks 3. Fagundus 4. The Bats in Belfry 5. East Orwell 6. My Delightful Muse 7. Biggertown 8. Effort, Patience Diligence 9. Allentown

Personnel: Moosic: Peter Evans (trumpet and piccolo trumpet) Jon Irabagon (alto, tenor, and soprano saxophones, Moppa Elliott (bass) and Kevin Shea (drums)

Track Listing: Outright: 1. Anchors (By Design) 2. Quorum Call* 3. Groovin’ High 4. That Was Then+ 5. Outright Theme# 6. Charles Barkley 7. Oddjob

Personnel: Outright: Russ Johnson (trumpet); Jon Irabagon (alto saxophone); Kris Davis (piano and organ); Eivind Opsvik (bass) and Jeff Davis (drums) plus Chris Cash (programming)*; Jesse Lewis (guitar)+; Mixed Choir+ and Original Outright! Jass Band#

February 8, 2009

Mostly Other People Do the Killing

This Is Our Moosic
Hot Cup 082

Jon Irabagon

Outright!

Innova Records 699

Alto saxophonist Jon Irabagon, who migrated from suburban Chicago to Astoria, Queens, working with different bands in clubs and studying music along the way, won the 21st annual Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition last October. On the evidence of these CDs, it’s easy to see why.

Possessed of an upfront style, strong chops and a thorough understanding of the tradition, Irabagon composes swinging and sometimes complex tunes and is a mainstream polymath who obviously impressed representatives of the jazz establishment who hand out awards. No show-boater, the reedist takes only slightly more solo space on his debut session as he gets on This Is Our Moosic and is surrounded on both discs by the highest grade of young New York-centred talent. Overall though, he fares better as one interlocking clog of bassist Moppa Elliott’s extravagantly named Mostly Other People Do the Killing (MOPDtK), then on his own.

Why? Evidently trying to touch all bases on Outright, the alto man and his squad – trumpeter Russ Johnson, keyboardist Kris Davis bassist Eivind Opsvik drummer Jeff Davis plus guitarist Jesse Lewis and programmer Chris Cash on different tracks – brush against nearly every modern jazz current without settling on or buttressing any one with an exclusive statement. MOPDtK’s equally eclectic session at least cleaves to its stance as a “terrorist Bebop” band and interpolates unexpected sound currents on Elliott’s version of POMO deconstruction.

With a CD cover that parodies Ornette Coleman’s “This is Our Music” LP – MOPDtK’s previous disc lampooned original Blue Note records’ distinctive colossal typography and faux-erudite liner notes – the band parades its influences upfront, but isn’t afraid to mess with expectation, something Irabagon merely touches on as leader.

Plus the MOPDtK tunes seem to better articulate the band members’ varied backgrounds. Trumpeter Peter Evans for instance, also plays microtonal solo trumpet, has worked with European avant gardists like British saxophonist Evan Parker, plus performs on piccolo trumpet in Baroque settings. Kevin Shea also drums with synthesizer player Matt Mottel in Talibam! and has a duo with guitarist Mary Halvorson; while Elliott teaches math and music. On his own, Irabagon plays in both Bop and 1980s pop cover band. MOPDtK covers Billy Joel’s “Allentown” at his insistence.

More generic to the group’s concept is Elliott’s compositional conceits. “My Delightful Muse” for instance is labeled funk, but comes across more like Dixieland call-and-response. On its axis is Evans spraying choruses of growls and tattoos, followed by piles of staccato triplets. With Irabagon alternately snorting and squeezing agitato wails and mouse squeaks, the tune reaches a climax of echoing double counterpoint while Shea rings glass armonica-like concussions and Elliott slaps his strings. With the horns and rhythm section sounding similar notes in different tempi, all eventually slide back to the Trad-Jazz replication with sul tasto bass lines serving as the finale.

Other pieces reference everything from the Batman theme to “Sidewinder”-styled funk, with Hard Bop licks and rock-styled backbeats appearing and vanishing at different junctures. “Drainlink” for example, has the saxophonist building tension while stuttering a stop-time chorus, as the bassist hits strings and wood repeatedly. “Fagundus” is another jumping Bebop tune encompassing a rasping counter line from Evans as simultaneously Irabagon extends his emotional flutter tonguing with pulsating slurs.

Defining and definitive “Effort, Patience Diligence” is a bravura 12/8 head, which packs nearly every blues cliché into fewer than six minutes. With Elliott walking, Shea shaking bells and tambourines plus Evans squeezing notes until they bray, it’s an undulating, chromatic melody that could have sneaked over from a Preservation Hall Jazz Band session, until, of course, the saxophonist breaks things up with tongue stops and reed bites.

Perhaps Irabagon’s debut disc should have demonstrated the same faith in eclecticism. Never less than professional, it resounds with a Back to the Future vibe much of the time. Included are a POMO run through of “Groovin’ High”; unaccompanied downward slurs and burbles from the horns on another tune that seems to replicate the “Lonely Woman” head; and a skewed neo-Dixieland party-time take on the band’s theme complete with fluid clarinet licks and lurching, almost inchoate rhythmic overflow.

More notable are “Charles Barkley” and “That Was Then”. The former is built on stops from bassist Opsvik, a Norwegian living in New York, who also works with tenor saxophonist Tony Malaby, and the strumming arpeggios and block chords of Canadian expatriate pianist Davis. As drummer Davis rolls and pumps and Johnson blasts a near freylach line, Irabagon turns the piece around with stop-time and rubato meandering, halving the tempo with a cut-and-thrust solo that’s half Hard Bop and half Free Time. With the husband-and-wife piano/drums team playing at double tempo, hip-hopping back to the original swinging theme, the alto man eventually reveals his inner Hank Crawford, while Johnston exposes his inner Marcus Belgrave.

As for the later tune, a sweeping panoramic trumpet exposition over woody bass thumps eventually gives way to Davis eschewing low-frequency chords at the top end for lurching organ note clusters mated with the drummer’s shuffle beat. Following a mid-section taken up by guest guitarist Lewis spewing sprays of pop-rock licks and crunching, distorted chords, vocal backing from the so-called “mixed choir” of musicians doesn’t quite get the piece back on track.

In fact, the most out-of-character composition – for Irabagon at least – is “Quorum Call”, which posits a move away from the expected. Pianist Davis introduces the later tune with some inside-piano string clipping and soundboard rumbles that soon mix it up with muffled grace notes from Johnson and cascading vibrations from the saxophonist. Defining itself as an antiphonal freeform interlude, the composition rests on busy paradiddles and military-style press rolls from drummer Davis. Also present are oscillated knob-twisting from Cash that practically redefines the composition until a Hard Bop-like head kicks in, redirecting the piece to exit with rolling, kinetic cadences from the pianist and pops and drags from the drummer.

Obviously someone with a burgeoning reputation, Irabagon has promise – definitely as a sideman in a close-knit, organized band as MOPDtK’s CD demonstrates –but thus far has yet to make a major recorded statement. Nevertheless, judging from these discs, it’s hoped that in future he will develop into a notable stylist – and not just another poll winner.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Moosic: 1. Drainlick 2. Two Boot Jacks 3. Fagundus 4. The Bats in Belfry 5. East Orwell 6. My Delightful Muse 7. Biggertown 8. Effort, Patience Diligence 9. Allentown

Personnel: Moosic: Peter Evans (trumpet and piccolo trumpet) Jon Irabagon (alto, tenor, and soprano saxophones, Moppa Elliott (bass) and Kevin Shea (drums)

Track Listing: Outright: 1. Anchors (By Design) 2. Quorum Call* 3. Groovin’ High 4. That Was Then+ 5. Outright Theme# 6. Charles Barkley 7. Oddjob

Personnel: Outright: Russ Johnson (trumpet); Jon Irabagon (alto saxophone); Kris Davis (piano and organ); Eivind Opsvik (bass) and Jeff Davis (drums) plus Chris Cash (programming)*; Jesse Lewis (guitar)+; Mixed Choir+ and Original Outright! Jass Band#

February 8, 2009

Carnival Skin

Carnival Skin
Nemu 003

By Ken Waxman

Blending extended techniques from a variety of genres – including modern notated composition – with elements of Ornette Coleman-like free jazz, Carnival Skin proclaims its individuality in instrumentation.

That’s because the German-American quintet has as one lead voice, Bruce Eisenbeil’s guitar – an instrument whose sinuous fills and rough chording aren’t often heard in hard-core free improv situations. Similarly the overall instrumentation is less than commonplace.

German drummer Klaus Kugel, who works with New York trombonist Steve Swell; and bassist Hillard Greene, who has backed pianist Cecil Taylor; provide the proper rhythm, yet often simultaneously function as complementary soloists. Meanwhile the so-called front line includes the guitar of Eisenbeil, who has also partnered with Swell; the trumpet and piccolo trumpet of younger Peter Evans, who also performs contemporary classical and electro-acoustic music; and veteran clarinetist Perry Robinson, whose affiliation with the New Thing goes back to the early 1960s. Improvising together in twos and threes worked so well that the five decided to attempt this band session.

That such disparate backgrounds should interlock so completely is a tribute both to the players and the material, with the CD including one tune from each band member and the short, group-improvised title track. It features wide intervals floated on Robinson’s rubato upper register warbles, high-note slurs from Evans’ piccolo trumpet and Eisenbeil’s ostinato strumming.

So at ease with jazz language that he at various times suggests Grant Green’s bristling funk-like single-note picking and at others the accelerated slurred fingering and flanged delays that various plectrumists in Coleman’s Prime Time bands aimed at, Esenbeil is no monomaniacal guitar hero.

Instead a more common strategy is blending his cascading fills and sandpaper-like string abrasions with the horn players’ polyphonic output. On the brassman’s “Monster” for instance, the guitarist’s string snapping meets Evans’ quickly vibrated triplets and Robinson’s narrowed tongue squeaks. Elsewhere the trumpeter expresses himself in harder and faster bent notes or plunger choruses and the clarinetist does the same with flute-like whistles or emphasized smears.

Fixated on solid time-keeping throughout, Greene also provides the CD’s most ambitious piece in the almost-12-minute “Iono”. Written as a series of near-concertos, the modal-like melody showcases ringing and resonating guitar rasgueado; low intensity but steady arco lines from the bass; press rolls from Kugel; and backward moving discordant triplets and slurs from the horns, which climax with Robinson’s buzzy, low-pitched solo.

Melodic and discordant at various times – often within the same composition –

Carnival Skin, the band, meets all the compositional challenges presented to it. Carnival Skin, the CD, confirms that unhackneyed, contemporary improvisation can be created no matter the instrumentation or the players’ age or background.

In MusicWorks Issue #96

November 21, 2006