Festival Report:

“Might I Suggest”
By Ken Waxman

With characteristic British understatement, saxophonist Evan Parker’s curated “Might I Suggest” (MIS) festival celebrated its second birthday in late January uniting German and British improvisers at the second-floor Vortex club, located in London’s moderately gentrified Dalston district. Quality of the performances during the six evenings testified not only to the worth of Parker’s recommendations but also to their scope. With funding from the Goethe Institute, the performances ranged from Kurt Weill songs performed by vocalist Norma Winstone’s trio to the electronic processing utilized by bassist Adam Linson’s Systems Quartet; and from the intense expression of guitarist John Russell’s expanded British-German unit to the balanced arrangements Bavarian-born, London resident Hans Koller crafted for his Fun House Living (FHL) nonet.

Koller was a triple-threat. His quartet, filled out by Canadian saxophonist François Theberge, bassist Percy Pursglove and veteran drummer Jeff Williams ran through a series of standards and Koller originals one evening; with steady Oli Hayhurst on bass and flashy Gene Calderazzo on drums, he backed German avant pioneer saxophonist Gerd Dudek, 73, two night later; and during the second set of his first gig premiered the seven-horn FHL with Pursglove this time on trumpet and himself on valve trombone. Enlivened by expressive work from contemporary UK heavy-hitters like saxophonist Julian Siegel and French hornist Jim Rattigan, FHL specialized in slowly building, steady-tempo themes played with conscientiously stacked horn timbres, featuring sharp interjections from Siegel’s tenor or soprano sax plus stirring capillary momentum from Pursglove and fellow trumpeter Robbie Robson.

Besides Koller, the most active MIS participants were German: drummer Paul Lovens and bass clarinetist Rudi Mahall. Lovens’ unique percussion set encompassing miniature hand-held gongs, wood blocks, a Chinese-motif decorated, cunningly wired, snare plus a mini-pancake tom, was not only heard to its best advantage in pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach’s trio with Parker; but also created ingenious beats to frame the chromatic tonal experimentation of guitarist Russell’s below-the-bridge plucks alongside juddering growls from Ute Voelker’s accordion, the narrowed split tones of Stefan Keune’s soprano or alto saxophones, plus resonate sweeps and measured pizzicato from Phil Wachsmann’s violin. Together for four decades, the Schlippenbach three’s variant of classic Free Jazz is now almost a mode onto itself, with Lovens’ clip-clops, cross-handed rim shots and hand-slapped cymbals plus the pianist’s high frequency pulses, Monkish asides and dynamic cadences framing Parker’s magisterial split tones and herculean displays of circular breathing.

Mahall and percussionist Paul Lytton were the acoustic components of the Systems Quartet, which otherwise featured Axel Dörner sourcing microtones from his slide trumpet while processing sounds through his laptop; and Linson’s percussively thumping or atonally bowing his bass in addition to using real-time electronics to process multiple variants of each of the quartet members’ timbres. While Lytton’s unmatched cymbal sizzles and shell side scraps plus Mahall’s staccato reed bites were most obvious, Linson’s electronic work multiplied the number of textures in a restrained fashion, so it was never certain whether Dörner’s singular Theremin-like pitches were self-created or synthesized or whether the spacey crackles that suddenly emanated from Mahall’s horn were aided by Linson’s manipulations.

There was no doubt about the source of Mahall’s stand-out playing a couple of nights later, when his acoustic horn prowess and offbeat humor were put to good use in a duo with pianist Aki Takase. With fare encompassing Forties film ditties, Duke Ellington’s “Mood Indigo”, Thelonious Monk’s “Pannonica” and original from both players – including “Trumpet for Beginners”, a hesitant, huffing-and-puffing line the reedist composed as an affectionate dig at the style of Dörner, his long-time associate – the pianist’s characteristic mixture of pounding Fats Waller-emulating stride plus angular Monk-like digressions came in handy when meeting the reedist’s idiomatic command of the curved instrument.

Monk’s repertoire was also celebrated on MIS’s concluding night by the Dudek/Koller quartet, playing appropriately related themes by John Coltrane, Tadd Dameron and other 20th Century heavy hitters. By conviction a Trane devotee, the German saxophonist was most effective when the quartet tackled less familiar material like Herbie Nichols’ “Step Tempest” and Ornette Coleman’s “Congeniality”. On the former Dudek’s spherical lines and stentorian flutter-tonguing reconfirmed the melody while the pianist’s slurred fingering and chromatic note exposure created theme variants. On “Congeniality” Dudek subtly changed the tempo once the head was stated, while Hayhurst and Calderazzo maintained the original line. Further on, the saxman’s lower-case, altissimo slurs evolved in stark contrast to Koller’s decorative note clusters and novel voicing atop the bassist’s and drummer’s rhythmic pull.

Similar reconfigurations were the stock-in-trade of vocalist Winstone’s emotive second set one night previously, accompanied by pianist Nikki Iles and reedist Mark Lockheart. Concentrating on Weill’s American-period songs, except for the inevitable “Mack the Knife”, the singer brought an adult wistfulness to melodies like “September Song”, “My Ship”, and “The Bilbao Song” – in the middle of which she cleverly interpolated the street-smart verse of “The Alabama Song”. Her renditions were helped immeasurably by outstanding lyrics provided by, among others, Maxwell Anderson and Ira Gershwin.

Those glorious German-American musical collaborations could be heard as a precursor to similar first-class German-British teamwork presented at the Vortex that week.

--For New York City Jazz Record March 2012

March 6, 2012

Aki Takase

A Week Went By
psi 10.03

Tama

Rolled Up

Jazz Werkstatt JW 067

Recorded less than a year apart, either of these discs by pianist Aki Takase appropriately demonstrates the distinguishing traits of her mature style. A permanent resident of Berlin since 1987, the Japanese-born Takase appears to have no traces of the Orient in her playing.

Expecting some form of Eastern sound from her however may be churlish or naïve, since Takase’s keyboard conception is completely her own. Her preference is for extended cadences and fantasia which rely more on the piano’s lower register than do most players. Plus her version of the now-standard stopping and plucking of the piano’s inner strings usually includes resting implements upon them, whose tonal asides and sometimes literal appearances create distinctive textures. Someone whose playing partners over the years her have included sound explorers such as saxophonist Evan Parker and singer Lauren Newton, she equally committed to Jazz’s ongoing tradition, evidenced by projects dedicated to Ornette Coleman and Fats Waller among others.

Here, with two different rhythm sections, and, on one track of A Week Went By a saxophone guest, she continues to furrow a groove midway between avant garde and modern mainstream. Some of the tracks deal with extended techniques and internal string excitement; others take on a Boppish cast, with echoes of Thelonious Monk’s playing. That too shouldn’t be a surprise, since her husband and fellow pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach is a specialist in the interpretation of Monk tunes.

The chief difference between these two CDs is that bassist Jan Roder on Rolled Up seems much more withdrawn in his contributions than John Edwards does on the other disc. Considering that drummers Oliver Steidle and Tony Levin are equally prominent; and that Roder is upfront enough on other gigs; and considering Tama is a working group, it may be that Takase told him to lay back.

That’s unfortunate because the most impressive of Tama’s 13 tracks are when the trio is firing full force on three cylinders rather than two. For instance “Back Stone” is a fine example of kinetic triple counterpoint, with pluck and pushes on the bass strings, dramatic pressure from the keyboard and echoing cymbal ratchets. Similarly when the bassist expresses heightened atonality with sul ponticello swipes leading to tones that could come from window opening and the pianist moves her internal string stopping to measured tonality on “The Last Drop”, the partnership appears complete.

Conversely on more conventional tracks such as “Breaking Eggs” and “Smoke Ball” – both composed by Takase but sounding like a Hard Bop line or a Latin showcase respectively – Roder retreats to standard time-keeping. On the former, his string-stopping relates more to 1956 than anything since, as the pianist clips some doubled Monk-styled notes; on the later his string slaps are nearly lost amid Steidle’s upfront clanks and press rolls plus Takase’s key pumps which accelerate into tremolo patterns.

Finally, tunes such as Takase’s “Perlin” and a group improv on “Ein Hoher Baum Fängt Viel Wind” appear to only be, in the first case, more an exercise in layered piano harmonies, or in the later a showcase for the drummer’s and pianist’s ability to add swing to a near-military beat. Additional colors are added to “Perlin” by Steidle alternating simple cymbal raps with bell ringing, as Takase sneaks upwards to forte and presto glissandi from a hitherto gentle pulse. Glissandi as well as other techniques are featured on A Week Went By, which matches the pianist with Levin, the veteran drummer, who started s a Hard Bopper, and Edwards, a bassist who seems to have worked with everyone in Free Music from harpist Rhodri Davies to saxophonist John Butcher.

Two immediate examples of this trio effectiveness are on “Cell Culture” and the title track. On the former squeaking bass spiccato and Levin’s blunt strokes create the sort of polyrhythms that frame Takase’s speedy chording, downward keyboard rappelling and resonating high-frequency pounding. Edwards’ spidery strategies are even more prominent on “A Week Went By” as he stops and strums the strings with equal facility –

and nearly simultaneously. Moving to slaps and scrubs as Takase strokes and Levin ruffs, it’s Edwards who turns to walking, eventually creating a full-fledged Jazz line. Dynamic movements from the pianist, which include splayed key pulsing eventually gives way to a sprawling, half-speed beats from Edwards.

On her own on “Ima wa Mukashi” Takase varies her bulky touch with selected episodes where she digs inside the instrument’s action to pluck the strings. She also jangles aluminum pie plates placed on the strings, works the results up to staccato disconnections and then turns the resulting textures into low-pitched cluster chords.

Her meeting with Danish alto saxophonist John Tchicai, whose experience goes back to the birth of the New Thing, also reaches that mid-point between experimentation and tradition. As she accompanies him with doubled plinks and metronomic pops, the saxophonist expels intense trills with a swelling vibrato before heading off into irregular split tones. Her replication of piano-roll-like chording seems to orient his playing in a traditional direction, so that he’s soon quoting “Epistrophy” and “Manteca” before downshifting to honks, overblowing and eventual rapprochement with the piano chords.

Takese’s playing and composing is appropriately showcased on both of these notable CDs. A Week Went By has a slight edge though because of Roder’s uncharacteristic reticence.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Rolled 1. Rolled Up 2. Ball of Yarn 2. Glass Beads 4. Smoke Ball 5. The Last Drop 6. Point 3 7. Black Stone 8. Round Table 9. Drehühne 10. Ein Hoher Baum Fängt Viel Wind 11. Breaking Egg 12. Perlen 13. Schöne Edelsteine

Personnel: Rolled: Aki Takase (piano); Jan Roder (bass) and Oliver Steidle (drums)

Track Listing: Week: 1. Surface tension 2. A week went by 3. Steinblock 4. Just drop in* 5. 57577 6. Ima wa Mukashi 7. Cell Culture 8. Men are shadows 9. Yumetamago

Personnel: Week: John Tchicai (alto saxophone)*; Aki Takase (piano); John Edwards (bass [all but 4, 5, 9]) and Tony Levin (drums [all but 4, 5, 9])

October 22, 2010

Tama

Rolled Up
Jazz Werkstatt JW 067

Aki Takase

A Week Went By

psi 10.03

Recorded less than a year apart, either of these discs by pianist Aki Takase appropriately demonstrates the distinguishing traits of her mature style. A permanent resident of Berlin since 1987, the Japanese-born Takase appears to have no traces of the Orient in her playing.

Expecting some form of Eastern sound from her however may be churlish or naïve, since Takase’s keyboard conception is completely her own. Her preference is for extended cadences and fantasia which rely more on the piano’s lower register than do most players. Plus her version of the now-standard stopping and plucking of the piano’s inner strings usually includes resting implements upon them, whose tonal asides and sometimes literal appearances create distinctive textures. Someone whose playing partners over the years her have included sound explorers such as saxophonist Evan Parker and singer Lauren Newton, she equally committed to Jazz’s ongoing tradition, evidenced by projects dedicated to Ornette Coleman and Fats Waller among others.

Here, with two different rhythm sections, and, on one track of A Week Went By a saxophone guest, she continues to furrow a groove midway between avant garde and modern mainstream. Some of the tracks deal with extended techniques and internal string excitement; others take on a Boppish cast, with echoes of Thelonious Monk’s playing. That too shouldn’t be a surprise, since her husband and fellow pianist Alexander von Schlippenbach is a specialist in the interpretation of Monk tunes.

The chief difference between these two CDs is that bassist Jan Roder on Rolled Up seems much more withdrawn in his contributions than John Edwards does on the other disc. Considering that drummers Oliver Steidle and Tony Levin are equally prominent; and that Roder is upfront enough on other gigs; and considering Tama is a working group, it may be that Takase told him to lay back.

That’s unfortunate because the most impressive of Tama’s 13 tracks are when the trio is firing full force on three cylinders rather than two. For instance “Back Stone” is a fine example of kinetic triple counterpoint, with pluck and pushes on the bass strings, dramatic pressure from the keyboard and echoing cymbal ratchets. Similarly when the bassist expresses heightened atonality with sul ponticello swipes leading to tones that could come from window opening and the pianist moves her internal string stopping to measured tonality on “The Last Drop”, the partnership appears complete.

Conversely on more conventional tracks such as “Breaking Eggs” and “Smoke Ball” – both composed by Takase but sounding like a Hard Bop line or a Latin showcase respectively – Roder retreats to standard time-keeping. On the former, his string-stopping relates more to 1956 than anything since, as the pianist clips some doubled Monk-styled notes; on the later his string slaps are nearly lost amid Steidle’s upfront clanks and press rolls plus Takase’s key pumps which accelerate into tremolo patterns.

Finally, tunes such as Takase’s “Perlin” and a group improv on “Ein Hoher Baum Fängt Viel Wind” appear to only be, in the first case, more an exercise in layered piano harmonies, or in the later a showcase for the drummer’s and pianist’s ability to add swing to a near-military beat. Additional colors are added to “Perlin” by Steidle alternating simple cymbal raps with bell ringing, as Takase sneaks upwards to forte and presto glissandi from a hitherto gentle pulse. Glissandi as well as other techniques are featured on A Week Went By, which matches the pianist with Levin, the veteran drummer, who started s a Hard Bopper, and Edwards, a bassist who seems to have worked with everyone in Free Music from harpist Rhodri Davies to saxophonist John Butcher.

Two immediate examples of this trio effectiveness are on “Cell Culture” and the title track. On the former squeaking bass spiccato and Levin’s blunt strokes create the sort of polyrhythms that frame Takase’s speedy chording, downward keyboard rappelling and resonating high-frequency pounding. Edwards’ spidery strategies are even more prominent on “A Week Went By” as he stops and strums the strings with equal facility –

and nearly simultaneously. Moving to slaps and scrubs as Takase strokes and Levin ruffs, it’s Edwards who turns to walking, eventually creating a full-fledged Jazz line. Dynamic movements from the pianist, which include splayed key pulsing eventually gives way to a sprawling, half-speed beats from Edwards.

On her own on “Ima wa Mukashi” Takase varies her bulky touch with selected episodes where she digs inside the instrument’s action to pluck the strings. She also jangles aluminum pie plates placed on the strings, works the results up to staccato disconnections and then turns the resulting textures into low-pitched cluster chords.

Her meeting with Danish alto saxophonist John Tchicai, whose experience goes back to the birth of the New Thing, also reaches that mid-point between experimentation and tradition. As she accompanies him with doubled plinks and metronomic pops, the saxophonist expels intense trills with a swelling vibrato before heading off into irregular split tones. Her replication of piano-roll-like chording seems to orient his playing in a traditional direction, so that he’s soon quoting “Epistrophy” and “Manteca” before downshifting to honks, overblowing and eventual rapprochement with the piano chords.

Takese’s playing and composing is appropriately showcased on both of these notable CDs. A Week Went By has a slight edge though because of Roder’s uncharacteristic reticence.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Rolled 1. Rolled Up 2. Ball of Yarn 2. Glass Beads 4. Smoke Ball 5. The Last Drop 6. Point 3 7. Black Stone 8. Round Table 9. Drehühne 10. Ein Hoher Baum Fängt Viel Wind 11. Breaking Egg 12. Perlen 13. Schöne Edelsteine

Personnel: Rolled: Aki Takase (piano); Jan Roder (bass) and Oliver Steidle (drums)

Track Listing: Week: 1. Surface tension 2. A week went by 3. Steinblock 4. Just drop in* 5. 57577 6. Ima wa Mukashi 7. Cell Culture 8. Men are shadows 9. Yumetamago

Personnel: Week: John Tchicai (alto saxophone)*; Aki Takase (piano); John Edwards (bass [all but 4, 5, 9]) and Tony Levin (drums [all but 4, 5, 9])

October 22, 2010

Jan Roder

Double Bass
Jazzwerkstatt JW 037

Aki Takase & The Good Boys

Live at Willisau Jazz Festival

Jazz Werkstatt JW 049

Alexander Von Schlippenbach

Friulian Sketches

psi 08.07

TOOT

Two

Another Timbre At14

Extended Play: Alexander Von Schlippenbach and his band mates

By Ken Waxman

One European jazz pacesetter since the late 1960s, German pianist Alexander Von Schlippenbach’s groups showcase different aspects of his broad interests. Together for over 35 years, his trio with saxophonist Evan Parker and drummer Paul Lovens features improvisers attuned to each other’s thinking. Predating that, The Globe Unity Orchestra herds outstanding Continental soloists into cooperative big band arrangements. His Monk’s Casino quintet – filled out by German players about 25 years younger than Schlippenbach, 71 – offers a unique take on Thelonious Monk’s oeuvre. Its members also score on individual projects, like these CDs.

Able to display the quirky kernel of Monk’s moods elsewhere, on

Friulian Sketches psi 08.07, Von Schlippenbach personalizes jazz chamber music, seconded by Amerian cellist Tristan Honsinger and Italian clarinetist Daniele D’Agaro, The 20 inventions are airy and pleasant, and never do the bel canto flourishes trump innate creativity. For example on “Capriccio” skewed Monkian tropes give way to broken-octave chording and strummed cadenzas from the pianist – both formalist and funky. In contrast the cellist’s tremolo squeaks open up into multi-string exhibitionism, while D’Agaro’s reed quivers with lyrical currents.

Moderato throughout, tunes are frequently jolted by the clarinetist’s high-pitched glissandi or liquid portamento. Take “Antifonia” where D’Agaro’s tones are matched by the pianist’s organic patterning plus a stop-time interlude from Honsinger. Altering their instruments’ tessitura as they play, the three keep the restrained sounds from becoming simplistic by including rhythmic plunks from cello strings and key fanning from the piano.

Simplicity doesn’t enter the equation on TOOT’s Two Another Timbre At14. Here the Bebop chops trumpeter Axel Dörner exhibits in Monk’s Casino are transmogrified into disembodied brass sound pulses, the better to meld with the quivering wave forms and undercurrents from Thomas Lehn’s synthesizer and the cries, retches and mumbles which make up the unconventional oralization of British vocalist Phil Minton.

Minton’s style of anti-singing, which encompasses duck quacks, yodeling, basso growls and strangled yelps, reduces vocal expression to its most basic. So does the trumpeter, whose expression mostly consists of flat-line air forced through the horn’s body tube, reductionist breaths and circumscribed grace notes. Abstract on their own, Lehn’s sound envelopes hold the improvisations together with pulsating signals and electric-piano-like sprinkles.

Evolving chromatically or contrapuntally, Toot’s soundworld is pointillist, but not cynosure. Despite Minton’s strident throat extensions, his gibberish sprouting is put into context when mated with the others’ outpourings. Purring timbres and ring modulator-like whooshes from the synthesizer create a connective undercurrent, while Dörner’s excursions into muted grace notes confirm the in-the-moment status of the improvisations.

Even more instantaneous is Aki and The Good Boys’ Live at Willisau Jazz Festival Jazz Werkstatt JW 049. One “good boy” prominent on this CD by Aki Takase – the Japanese-born, Berlin-based pianist – is bass clarinetist Rudi Mahall, who shares the front line in Monk’s Casino with Dörner. Serendipitously enough, Takase is Von Schlippenbach’s wife. Looser than the other CDs’ programs, Live cannily subvert American jazz and German folksongs. Takase’s compositions are harmonically and melodically sophisticated. They also have sufficient space for her keyboard forays ranging from high-frequency tinkling, to metronomic pulsing. Added are flutter-tongued, altissimo and vamping exchanges between Mahall and Amsterdam-based reedist Tobias Delius. Scattered among the tunes are four Mahall-composed miniatures which lighten the mood and extend the color palate. “Dreimal Durch” for instance, conflates an uneven pulse, spidery piano arpeggios and unison horn trills.

The bass clarinetist’s reed bites, spetrofluctuation and tongue slaps help define Takase compositions such as “Todays Ulysses” which also showcases her metronomic patterning and contrasting dynamics. Here, Mahall scooping concentric notes from his horn’s bottom causes Delius to unleash responsive honks and slurs.

In contrast to these exercises in group interaction, bassist Jan Roder – whose solid rhythm is the rock on which Monk’s Casino rests – goes it alone on Double Bass Jazzwerkstatt 037, unveiling multiple strategies as his modulated plucks alternate with metronomic inventions plus abrasive bow scratches. “Naŭ” captures slaps, pulls and thumps. “Ses” deals with staccato, strident and subterranean double-stopping – one texture resembles pooch barks, another is airily melodic. Then there’s “Kvar”, which uses crumpled paper placed among the strings to create rattling noises that upticks to sul ponticello creaks. The piece concludes with adagio note clusters executed with guitar-like facility.

Each musician excels as a stylist on his own. Toronto can experience them together as Monk’s Casino at the Church of the Reeder as [art of the TD Canada Trust Jazz Festival on June 26.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 14 #9

June 1, 2009

Aki Takase & The Good Boys

Live at Willisau Jazz Festival
Jazz Werkstatt JW 049

Alexander Von Schlippenbach

Friulian Sketches

psi 08.07

TOOT

Two

Another Timbre At14

Jan Roder

Double Bass

Jazzwerkstatt JW 037

Extended Play: Alexander Von Schlippenbach and his band mates

By Ken Waxman

One European jazz pacesetter since the late 1960s, German pianist Alexander Von Schlippenbach’s groups showcase different aspects of his broad interests. Together for over 35 years, his trio with saxophonist Evan Parker and drummer Paul Lovens features improvisers attuned to each other’s thinking. Predating that, The Globe Unity Orchestra herds outstanding Continental soloists into cooperative big band arrangements. His Monk’s Casino quintet – filled out by German players about 25 years younger than Schlippenbach, 71 – offers a unique take on Thelonious Monk’s oeuvre. Its members also score on individual projects, like these CDs.

Able to display the quirky kernel of Monk’s moods elsewhere, on

Friulian Sketches psi 08.07, Von Schlippenbach personalizes jazz chamber music, seconded by Amerian cellist Tristan Honsinger and Italian clarinetist Daniele D’Agaro, The 20 inventions are airy and pleasant, and never do the bel canto flourishes trump innate creativity. For example on “Capriccio” skewed Monkian tropes give way to broken-octave chording and strummed cadenzas from the pianist – both formalist and funky. In contrast the cellist’s tremolo squeaks open up into multi-string exhibitionism, while D’Agaro’s reed quivers with lyrical currents.

Moderato throughout, tunes are frequently jolted by the clarinetist’s high-pitched glissandi or liquid portamento. Take “Antifonia” where D’Agaro’s tones are matched by the pianist’s organic patterning plus a stop-time interlude from Honsinger. Altering their instruments’ tessitura as they play, the three keep the restrained sounds from becoming simplistic by including rhythmic plunks from cello strings and key fanning from the piano.

Simplicity doesn’t enter the equation on TOOT’s Two Another Timbre At14. Here the Bebop chops trumpeter Axel Dörner exhibits in Monk’s Casino are transmogrified into disembodied brass sound pulses, the better to meld with the quivering wave forms and undercurrents from Thomas Lehn’s synthesizer and the cries, retches and mumbles which make up the unconventional oralization of British vocalist Phil Minton.

Minton’s style of anti-singing, which encompasses duck quacks, yodeling, basso growls and strangled yelps, reduces vocal expression to its most basic. So does the trumpeter, whose expression mostly consists of flat-line air forced through the horn’s body tube, reductionist breaths and circumscribed grace notes. Abstract on their own, Lehn’s sound envelopes hold the improvisations together with pulsating signals and electric-piano-like sprinkles.

Evolving chromatically or contrapuntally, Toot’s soundworld is pointillist, but not cynosure. Despite Minton’s strident throat extensions, his gibberish sprouting is put into context when mated with the others’ outpourings. Purring timbres and ring modulator-like whooshes from the synthesizer create a connective undercurrent, while Dörner’s excursions into muted grace notes confirm the in-the-moment status of the improvisations.

Even more instantaneous is Aki and The Good Boys’ Live at Willisau Jazz Festival Jazz Werkstatt JW 049. One “good boy” prominent on this CD by Aki Takase – the Japanese-born, Berlin-based pianist – is bass clarinetist Rudi Mahall, who shares the front line in Monk’s Casino with Dörner. Serendipitously enough, Takase is Von Schlippenbach’s wife. Looser than the other CDs’ programs, Live cannily subvert American jazz and German folksongs. Takase’s compositions are harmonically and melodically sophisticated. They also have sufficient space for her keyboard forays ranging from high-frequency tinkling, to metronomic pulsing. Added are flutter-tongued, altissimo and vamping exchanges between Mahall and Amsterdam-based reedist Tobias Delius. Scattered among the tunes are four Mahall-composed miniatures which lighten the mood and extend the color palate. “Dreimal Durch” for instance, conflates an uneven pulse, spidery piano arpeggios and unison horn trills.

The bass clarinetist’s reed bites, spetrofluctuation and tongue slaps help define Takase compositions such as “Todays Ulysses” which also showcases her metronomic patterning and contrasting dynamics. Here, Mahall scooping concentric notes from his horn’s bottom causes Delius to unleash responsive honks and slurs.

In contrast to these exercises in group interaction, bassist Jan Roder – whose solid rhythm is the rock on which Monk’s Casino rests – goes it alone on Double Bass Jazzwerkstatt 037, unveiling multiple strategies as his modulated plucks alternate with metronomic inventions plus abrasive bow scratches. “Naŭ” captures slaps, pulls and thumps. “Ses” deals with staccato, strident and subterranean double-stopping – one texture resembles pooch barks, another is airily melodic. Then there’s “Kvar”, which uses crumpled paper placed among the strings to create rattling noises that upticks to sul ponticello creaks. The piece concludes with adagio note clusters executed with guitar-like facility.

Each musician excels as a stylist on his own. Toronto can experience them together as Monk’s Casino at the Church of the Reeder as [art of the TD Canada Trust Jazz Festival on June 26.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 14 #9

June 1, 2009

Alexander Von Schlippenbach

Friulian Sketches
psi 08.07

TOOT

Two

Another Timbre At14

Jan Roder

Double Bass

Jazzwerkstatt JW 037

Aki Takase & The Good Boys

Live at Willisau Jazz Festival

Jazz Werkstatt JW 049

Extended Play: Alexander Von Schlippenbach and his band mates

By Ken Waxman

One European jazz pacesetter since the late 1960s, German pianist Alexander Von Schlippenbach’s groups showcase different aspects of his broad interests. Together for over 35 years, his trio with saxophonist Evan Parker and drummer Paul Lovens features improvisers attuned to each other’s thinking. Predating that, The Globe Unity Orchestra herds outstanding Continental soloists into cooperative big band arrangements. His Monk’s Casino quintet – filled out by German players about 25 years younger than Schlippenbach, 71 – offers a unique take on Thelonious Monk’s oeuvre. Its members also score on individual projects, like these CDs.

Able to display the quirky kernel of Monk’s moods elsewhere, on

Friulian Sketches psi 08.07, Von Schlippenbach personalizes jazz chamber music, seconded by Amerian cellist Tristan Honsinger and Italian clarinetist Daniele D’Agaro, The 20 inventions are airy and pleasant, and never do the bel canto flourishes trump innate creativity. For example on “Capriccio” skewed Monkian tropes give way to broken-octave chording and strummed cadenzas from the pianist – both formalist and funky. In contrast the cellist’s tremolo squeaks open up into multi-string exhibitionism, while D’Agaro’s reed quivers with lyrical currents.

Moderato throughout, tunes are frequently jolted by the clarinetist’s high-pitched glissandi or liquid portamento. Take “Antifonia” where D’Agaro’s tones are matched by the pianist’s organic patterning plus a stop-time interlude from Honsinger. Altering their instruments’ tessitura as they play, the three keep the restrained sounds from becoming simplistic by including rhythmic plunks from cello strings and key fanning from the piano.

Simplicity doesn’t enter the equation on TOOT’s Two Another Timbre At14. Here the Bebop chops trumpeter Axel Dörner exhibits in Monk’s Casino are transmogrified into disembodied brass sound pulses, the better to meld with the quivering wave forms and undercurrents from Thomas Lehn’s synthesizer and the cries, retches and mumbles which make up the unconventional oralization of British vocalist Phil Minton.

Minton’s style of anti-singing, which encompasses duck quacks, yodeling, basso growls and strangled yelps, reduces vocal expression to its most basic. So does the trumpeter, whose expression mostly consists of flat-line air forced through the horn’s body tube, reductionist breaths and circumscribed grace notes. Abstract on their own, Lehn’s sound envelopes hold the improvisations together with pulsating signals and electric-piano-like sprinkles.

Evolving chromatically or contrapuntally, Toot’s soundworld is pointillist, but not cynosure. Despite Minton’s strident throat extensions, his gibberish sprouting is put into context when mated with the others’ outpourings. Purring timbres and ring modulator-like whooshes from the synthesizer create a connective undercurrent, while Dörner’s excursions into muted grace notes confirm the in-the-moment status of the improvisations.

Even more instantaneous is Aki and The Good Boys’ Live at Willisau Jazz Festival Jazz Werkstatt JW 049. One “good boy” prominent on this CD by Aki Takase – the Japanese-born, Berlin-based pianist – is bass clarinetist Rudi Mahall, who shares the front line in Monk’s Casino with Dörner. Serendipitously enough, Takase is Von Schlippenbach’s wife. Looser than the other CDs’ programs, Live cannily subvert American jazz and German folksongs. Takase’s compositions are harmonically and melodically sophisticated. They also have sufficient space for her keyboard forays ranging from high-frequency tinkling, to metronomic pulsing. Added are flutter-tongued, altissimo and vamping exchanges between Mahall and Amsterdam-based reedist Tobias Delius. Scattered among the tunes are four Mahall-composed miniatures which lighten the mood and extend the color palate. “Dreimal Durch” for instance, conflates an uneven pulse, spidery piano arpeggios and unison horn trills.

The bass clarinetist’s reed bites, spetrofluctuation and tongue slaps help define Takase compositions such as “Todays Ulysses” which also showcases her metronomic patterning and contrasting dynamics. Here, Mahall scooping concentric notes from his horn’s bottom causes Delius to unleash responsive honks and slurs.

In contrast to these exercises in group interaction, bassist Jan Roder – whose solid rhythm is the rock on which Monk’s Casino rests – goes it alone on Double Bass Jazzwerkstatt 037, unveiling multiple strategies as his modulated plucks alternate with metronomic inventions plus abrasive bow scratches. “Naŭ” captures slaps, pulls and thumps. “Ses” deals with staccato, strident and subterranean double-stopping – one texture resembles pooch barks, another is airily melodic. Then there’s “Kvar”, which uses crumpled paper placed among the strings to create rattling noises that upticks to sul ponticello creaks. The piece concludes with adagio note clusters executed with guitar-like facility.

Each musician excels as a stylist on his own. Toronto can experience them together as Monk’s Casino at the Church of the Reeder as [art of the TD Canada Trust Jazz Festival on June 26.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 14 #9

June 1, 2009

TOOT

Two
Another Timbre At14

Jan Roder

Double Bass

Jazzwerkstatt JW 037

Aki Takase & The Good Boys

Live at Willisau Jazz Festival

Jazz Werkstatt JW 049

Alexander Von Schlippenbach

Friulian Sketches

psi 08.07

Extended Play: Alexander Von Schlippenbach and his band mates

By Ken Waxman

One European jazz pacesetter since the late 1960s, German pianist Alexander Von Schlippenbach’s groups showcase different aspects of his broad interests. Together for over 35 years, his trio with saxophonist Evan Parker and drummer Paul Lovens features improvisers attuned to each other’s thinking. Predating that, The Globe Unity Orchestra herds outstanding Continental soloists into cooperative big band arrangements. His Monk’s Casino quintet – filled out by German players about 25 years younger than Schlippenbach, 71 – offers a unique take on Thelonious Monk’s oeuvre. Its members also score on individual projects, like these CDs.

Able to display the quirky kernel of Monk’s moods elsewhere, on

Friulian Sketches psi 08.07, Von Schlippenbach personalizes jazz chamber music, seconded by Amerian cellist Tristan Honsinger and Italian clarinetist Daniele D’Agaro, The 20 inventions are airy and pleasant, and never do the bel canto flourishes trump innate creativity. For example on “Capriccio” skewed Monkian tropes give way to broken-octave chording and strummed cadenzas from the pianist – both formalist and funky. In contrast the cellist’s tremolo squeaks open up into multi-string exhibitionism, while D’Agaro’s reed quivers with lyrical currents.

Moderato throughout, tunes are frequently jolted by the clarinetist’s high-pitched glissandi or liquid portamento. Take “Antifonia” where D’Agaro’s tones are matched by the pianist’s organic patterning plus a stop-time interlude from Honsinger. Altering their instruments’ tessitura as they play, the three keep the restrained sounds from becoming simplistic by including rhythmic plunks from cello strings and key fanning from the piano.

Simplicity doesn’t enter the equation on TOOT’s Two Another Timbre At14. Here the Bebop chops trumpeter Axel Dörner exhibits in Monk’s Casino are transmogrified into disembodied brass sound pulses, the better to meld with the quivering wave forms and undercurrents from Thomas Lehn’s synthesizer and the cries, retches and mumbles which make up the unconventional oralization of British vocalist Phil Minton.

Minton’s style of anti-singing, which encompasses duck quacks, yodeling, basso growls and strangled yelps, reduces vocal expression to its most basic. So does the trumpeter, whose expression mostly consists of flat-line air forced through the horn’s body tube, reductionist breaths and circumscribed grace notes. Abstract on their own, Lehn’s sound envelopes hold the improvisations together with pulsating signals and electric-piano-like sprinkles.

Evolving chromatically or contrapuntally, Toot’s soundworld is pointillist, but not cynosure. Despite Minton’s strident throat extensions, his gibberish sprouting is put into context when mated with the others’ outpourings. Purring timbres and ring modulator-like whooshes from the synthesizer create a connective undercurrent, while Dörner’s excursions into muted grace notes confirm the in-the-moment status of the improvisations.

Even more instantaneous is Aki and The Good Boys’ Live at Willisau Jazz Festival Jazz Werkstatt JW 049. One “good boy” prominent on this CD by Aki Takase – the Japanese-born, Berlin-based pianist – is bass clarinetist Rudi Mahall, who shares the front line in Monk’s Casino with Dörner. Serendipitously enough, Takase is Von Schlippenbach’s wife. Looser than the other CDs’ programs, Live cannily subvert American jazz and German folksongs. Takase’s compositions are harmonically and melodically sophisticated. They also have sufficient space for her keyboard forays ranging from high-frequency tinkling, to metronomic pulsing. Added are flutter-tongued, altissimo and vamping exchanges between Mahall and Amsterdam-based reedist Tobias Delius. Scattered among the tunes are four Mahall-composed miniatures which lighten the mood and extend the color palate. “Dreimal Durch” for instance, conflates an uneven pulse, spidery piano arpeggios and unison horn trills.

The bass clarinetist’s reed bites, spetrofluctuation and tongue slaps help define Takase compositions such as “Todays Ulysses” which also showcases her metronomic patterning and contrasting dynamics. Here, Mahall scooping concentric notes from his horn’s bottom causes Delius to unleash responsive honks and slurs.

In contrast to these exercises in group interaction, bassist Jan Roder – whose solid rhythm is the rock on which Monk’s Casino rests – goes it alone on Double Bass Jazzwerkstatt 037, unveiling multiple strategies as his modulated plucks alternate with metronomic inventions plus abrasive bow scratches. “Naŭ” captures slaps, pulls and thumps. “Ses” deals with staccato, strident and subterranean double-stopping – one texture resembles pooch barks, another is airily melodic. Then there’s “Kvar”, which uses crumpled paper placed among the strings to create rattling noises that upticks to sul ponticello creaks. The piece concludes with adagio note clusters executed with guitar-like facility.

Each musician excels as a stylist on his own. Toronto can experience them together as Monk’s Casino at the Church of the Reeder as [art of the TD Canada Trust Jazz Festival on June 26.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 14 #9

June 1, 2009

Jazz Brugge

Brugge, Belgium
October 2-October 5, 2008

Pianist Alexander Von Schlippenbach’s German quartet rolled through a set of Thelonious Monk compositions; Sardinians, saxophonist Sandro Satta and keyboardist Antonello Salis liberally quoted Charles Mingus lines during their incendiary set; Berlin-based pianist Aki Takase and saxophonist Silke Eberhard recast Ornette Coleman’s tunes; and the French Trio de Clarinettes ended its set with harmonies reminiscent of Duke Ellington’s writing for his reed section.

All these sounds and many more were highlighted during the fourth edition of Jazz Brugge, which takes place every second year in this tourist-favored Belgium city, about 88 kilometres from Brussels. But sonic homage and musical interpolations were only notable when part of a broader interpretation of improvised music. Other players in this four-day festival came from Italy, Spain, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Sweden, the United Kingdom, Hungary, Poland and Belgium. With strains of rock, New music and folklore informing the jazz presented at the festival’s three sonically impressive venues, music at the most notable concerts was completely unique or added to the tradition. The less-than-memorable sets were mired in past achievements or unworkable formulae

Aided by its intimate surroundings, noon-time concerts in the Groening Museum were a model of realized inspiration. Satta and Salis’ duo was particularly remarkable, especially when Salis attacked the piano keys and strings, partially answering the question: What would Cecil Taylor sound like if he was Sardinian?

Salis was no more Taylor, then Satta was Taylor’s saxophonist Jimmy Lyons, but this longstanding partnership created an individual sound. Conveyed on waves of pedal-pressure and low-slung glissandi from the pianist and the saxophonist’s open tone, which melded the delicacy of Paul Desmond and Earl Bostic’s wide vibrato with the split tones, altissimo squeaks and key slaps associated with Free Jazz, selections were as dense as they were lyrical. Salis’ piano produced minuet-reminiscent arpeggios as well as staccato honky-tonk striding. With Satta often cunningly manipulating blues nuances, both abstracted further timbres from their island heritage. Stretching the accordion bellows or hammering at its keypad, Salis foot-stamped and vocalized pseudo-Mediterranean shanties to emphasize further individuality.

Sicilian percussionist Francesco Branciamore showcased his version of tradition- extension a two days later with trombonist and tubaist Giancarlo Schiaffini and France’s Jean-Luc Cappozzo on trumpet and flugelhorn. Cappozzo, whose capabilities range from producing Gabriel-like triplets to breathing hand-muted mellow lines, worked in unison or contrapuntally with Schiaffini. Meantime the low-brass playing Roman moved beyond pedal-point accompaniment to unleash with the same facility, tailgate trombone braying gurgling, vocalized tuba lowing and shrill mouthpiece-only tootles. Branciamore advanced rhythm with wet finger tips slid across drum tops, hand-stopped cymbals, and wrapped up the performance with a Second Line-like backbeat. But that was after the percussionist shifted to the vibraharp for a four-mallet display of repetitive boppish beats, cushioned by Schiaffini’s feather-light tuba blares.

The reeds missing from this performance were present in earlier museum concerts from France’s Le Trio de Clarinettes and the duo of France’s Louis Sclavis on clarinets and soprano saxophone and Italian Francesco Bearzatti on tenor saxophone and clarinet.

Between them, Sylvain Kassap, Armand Angster and Jean-Marc Foltz played clarinets, bass clarinets and contrabass clarinets, frequently in triple counterpoint, other times with one producing a slurping ostinato as the others decorated his lines in lower-case accompaniment. Using circular breathing Foltz, for instance, created dual counter tones with himself. Meanwhile Kassap turned coughing and wheezing into his bass clarinet into shimmering echoes separated by chromatic honks. By the finale, the three moved from key-tapping and microtonal inferences to a replication – lead by Angster’s bass clarinet – of the sort of trio harmonies Ellington favored.

Similarly expressive, Bearzatti and Sclavis maintained a rhythmic cohesiveness as they introduced any number of ornamentations, running from jerky spittle-encrusted vibrations to blaring flutter-tonguing. On soprano saxophone Sclavis favored a flashy Sidney Bechet-style lyricism, while Bearzatti’s clarinet solos included jazzy, mid-range glissandi. Most impressive was a duet which joined shaky mouthpiece quacks as if from a chanter and basso pedal-point drones as if from bellows, to suggest insistent bagpipe-like undulations.

The duo’s performance was better realized than that of Sclavis’ Big Slam Napoli in the Concertgebouw, which matched the two reedists with a rhythm section and rapper Dgiz, who, despite hip-hopping from one side of the stage to the other, easily confirmed that rap-jazz admixtures are best left to performers from North America.

Similarly, French bassist Henri Texier’s sextet, while pumped full of Jazz Messengers-like energy resulting from a front line of trombone, baritone and alto saxophone, mired itself in crunching funk. Relatively faceless in execution, except for the profoundly resonating solos of the leader, the presentation lost its mooring when the band’s drummer was given free rein to unleash the sort of showy pounding firmly moored in Hard Rock.

Branciamore’s percussion facility was more germane to improvised music as were the work of three drummers associated with both bands involving British bassist Barry Guy. Swede Raymond Strid and Briton Paul Lytton guided the 10-piece Barry Guy New Orchestra (BGNO) without beat bluster, while earlier in the evening in the Concertgebouw’s Kamermuziekzaal, Spaniard Ramón López unveiled a similar low-key strategy playing with Agusti Fernández, BGNO’s Barcelona-based pianist, and Guy. Turning the classic jazz piano trio on its head, López’s Iberian rhythms, often expressed with vibrated bells, a sound tree, a triangle and ratchets, defined the tunes. Meanwhile Guy used a short stick plus his bow to hew unexpected stressed chords from his strings as well as plucking animated arpeggios. With Catalan-styled voicing periodically demanding he stretch crab-like across the keys, Fernández outlined clipped and insistent chording to steer the pieces astride the jazz tradition.

Filled out with a EU impov whose’s who – baritone saxophonist Mats Gustafsson and tubaist Per Åke Holmlander from Sweden, German trombonist Johannes Bauer, British saxophonist Evan Parker, Swiss clarinetist Hans Koch and one American – trumpeter Herb Robertson – the BGNO was an object lesson in showcasing individual improvisations within a notated score. Conducting as he played, Guy sometimes directed the reed and horn sections to cross pollinate each other’s cumulative vamps in canon fashion. Then it was his own forceful string twangs, Fernández’s targeted slides and pumps plus vibrating cymbal color and unexpected tutti crescendos that provided the performance’s bonding musical glue.

Interjecting individual theme variations were, among others, Parker’s flutter tonguing and chirping tenor saxophone, Koch’s wispy scene-setting bass clarinet puffs and blistering triplets from Robertson. Throbbing on top of a configuration of bass clarinet, tuba and baritone saxophone, the piece reached its climax following diminishing drum beats and hunting-horn-like yodels from the trombone. Heraldic trumpet tattoos and low-pitched piano lines signaled tension release and conclusion.

One reason the BGNO performance was satisfying was because players created variations on a previously recorded Guy orchestration. Mutating familiarized themes in another fashion was less notably expressed by Von Schlippenbach’s Monk’s Casino band and Takase and Eberhard’s Ornette Coleman Anthology set. Although bass clarinetist Rudi Mahall fused exuberant altissimo and split tone playing with the ability to duck walk across the stage; and trumpeter Axel Dörner fused triplest and a blues tonality in his solos impresssiverly, overall the Von Schlippenbach four crammed too many 78-rpm-length Monk themes into the set that would have lost focus if not for the powerful walking bass of Jan Roder. Similarly the Takase/Eberhard duo substituted Coleman’s innate quirkiness for readings that straightjacketed the alto man’s tunes into standard head-variation-solo-recap formula. It felt as if the two bands presented the Classic Comics or Reader’s Digest version of advanced jazz.

All and all though, Jazz Brugge’s pluses overwhelmed its minuses, setting up high expectations for 2010’s fest.

-- Ken Waxman

-- MusicWorks Issue #103

March 28, 2009