Matthew Bourne/Laurent Dehors

Chasons d’amour
Émouvance émv 1034

Gebhard Ullmann/Jurgen Kupke/Michael Thieke

The Clarinet Trio 4

Leo Records CD 622

Thomas Heberer’s

Clarino Cookbook

Red Toucan RT 9345

Gordon Grdina

Her Eyes Illuminate

Songlines SGL-2407-1

Something in the Air: The Clarinet Resurgence in Jazz

By Ken Waxman

At the height of jazz’s popularity, during the Big Band era of the 1930s and 1940s, one of the most common images was of a resplendent clarinetist, instrument shining in the spotlight, taking a hot solo. Subsequent styles found the so-called the licorice stick relegated to a poor cousin of the saxophone, with few reed players brave enough to keep the clarinet as a double, let alone concentrate on its unique timbres. However attacks on conventional sounds, coupled with an appreciation for unique instrumental textures staring in the 1960s, spurred a rediscovery of the wooden reed instrument. Right now there are probably more CDs extant featuring the clarinet than at any time since the heyday of Benny Goodman, Artie Shaw and Woody Herman.

Similar in some way to what a jam session involving Goodman, Shaw and Herman would have entailed is The Clarinet Trio 4 Leo Records CD LR 622. Besides the obvious difference that the trio members are German, rather than American, additional factors characterize this trio of reed players as a 21st Century juggernaut not a 1930s revival band. For a start, each man plays a different member of the clarinet family: Jürgen Kupke, regular clarinet; Michael Thieke, clarinet plus alto clarinet; and Gebhard Ullmann, bass clarinet. Plus nearly all the tunes are Ullmann originals rather than standards. Unlike earlier reed players who depended on rhythm section accompaniment however, the 11 tracks on this CD feature nothing but clarinet timbres. Interludes which result from an arrangement like this are put into boldest relief on “Collectives #13 #14” and “Geringe Abweichungen von der Norm”. The latter is carefully unrolled at adagio tempo, with balanced reed vibrations and understated motion as staccato slurs and pitch-sliding smears appear at the same time, finally melding into a tremolo narrative. In contrast, “Collectives #13 #14” is rife with pinched notes from the straight clarinet, snarling quivers from the alto clarinet and inner-directed bass clarinet growls. Eventually a mellow interface from the higher-pitched reeds surmounts these chirps and quacks as Ullmann continues to tongue slap and masticate tones. Other tunes such as Blaues Viertel and Waters explore variations in legato tone blending and burbling reverberations, as triple vibrations are showcased in broken-octave, chromatic lines. The climatic triple-reed definition is News No News however. As abrasive, tremolo lines from each reedist progressively align against one another the finale finds all ultimately diminishing to silence. Before that, three singular melodies have been cross vibrated and intertwined, while staccato lines maintain each player’s individuality.

Another trio, but this one including string and brass instruments as well as reeds, is on Clarino Cookbook Red Toucan RT 9345. This time the CD matches the clarinet of Belgian Joachim Badenhorst with the trumpet of German Thomas Heberer, who also composed the dozen selections, plus German-French bassist Pascal Niggenkemper. Although the line-up is the same as if it was a combo of Goodman, trumpeter Harry James and bassist Artie Bernstein, Heberer’s graphic notation wouldn’t have been recognizable by those earlier jazzers, though they would have been impressed by the breath of this trio’s technique. Encompassing a modicum of unanticipated tranquil passages, especially from muted trumpet and fluid clarinet lines, the fundamental object lies in revealing as many contrasting tones as they intersect. For instance a track such as “Nomos”, introduced by ringing double bass tones, develops new motifs as a busy trumpet limns the bouncing theme. Moderated with clarinet squeaks, the piece is cleanly concluded with bowed strings. More adventurous, “Bogen” is concerned with melding air bubbled through both horns’ body tubes with arco swipes from Niggenkemper, whose well-shaped notes later underscore Heberer’s brassy yelps and Badenhorst’s rhythmic tongue slaps. Even more dissonance is present on “Erdbär” with the bull fiddle barely audible. Upfront mercurial patterns entwine as the clarinetist’s circular breathing moves from moderato lowing to staccato bites and the trumpeter follows suit, with tongue not valve motions allowing him to interject mouthpiece squeaks. An overview however demonstrates that the three are in such control of the material – and their instrument’s sonic properties – that throughout quivering intensity is balanced with lyrical excursions so that a consistent narrative is apparent, even among the brass puffs, stentorian string thumps and reed stridency.

If Clarino Cookbook characterizes modern abstraction, then the 17 miniatures on Chasons d’amour Émouvance émv 1034 by French clarinetist/bass clarinetist Laurent Dehors and British pianist Matthew Bourne are the post-modern equivalent of jazz chamber music. Still the skills of both men include an undercurrent of dissonance. Take the familiar “La Vie en Rose” for instance. Dehors’ clarinet line consists of flutter-tonguing and split-tone pauses before uncovering the melody defined in a series of glissandi roughened by tongue stops and breaths. This may be followed by Triste, an impressionistic line dependent on harmonic balance between the pianist’s upwards moving glissandi and the reedist’s lyrical quivering. Overall, the CD includes some instances of hushed chamber music-style pacing while other themes are more barbed. The equilibrium of “BDK theme” is maintained as it unrolls at a clean clip, but by the final variant a Brubeck-like waltz rhythm played by Bourne is jockeying for space alongside Dehors’ strident reed shrills and snorts. Echoes of pedal point pacing from Dehors’ contrabass clarinet on “Two” are subtly undermined by piano clinks, while even the impressionism driven by the pianist’s key clusters and glittery plucks becomes hesitant and out-of-tempo on “Á propos”. Simple piano clusters characterize “Three”, yet Dehors completes the theme playing different variants simultaneously on two clarinets, one with wolf-call ferocity, the other double tonguing. In fact, the CD’s defining moments may occur on “Thrown”. A mini-suite in itself, which modulates from multi-level pumping impressionism to smooth lines at the end, the landscape includes chalumeau streaming tones from Dehors as well as reed bites, as Bourne’s patterns encompass key clicks and repetative chording.

Sonic landscapes of another structure are audible on Vancouver-based plectrumist Gordon Grdina’s Her Eyes Illuminate Songlines SGL-2407-1. Built on a jazz-like interpretation of lilting Arabic airs, Grdina, usually a guitarist, concentrates on oud playing, leading a 10-piece group which melds the traditional timbres of riq, ney and darbuka, with a strong bottom provided by electric bass and drums plus jazz-like solo interjections. Triplet runs from trumpeter JP Carter, contrapuntal duets between the split tones of tenor saxophonist Chris Kelley and the choked vibrations from Jesse Zubot’s violin, and liquid glissandi from François Houle’s clarinet are highpoints. One of Canada’s foremost woodwind players, Houle inventively creates a place for his Europeanized reed within this Middle Eastern showcase as he does in improvised, electronic and notated music contexts. Besides connective obbligatos and descriptive squeaks on other tracks, his most distinctive contribution is on the Egyptian/Druze composition “Laktob Aourak al Chagar”. Buoyed by the timed drumming tempo and aggressive string strumming, Houle bends his pitches so that his horn’s moderato line takes on a strident sturdiness, then as the percussion-pushed theme descends, he joins with the tenor saxophonist for a frenetic duet and finale.

Skillfully manipulating the single reed instrument’s sonic qualities, Houle, Badenhorst, Dehors and The Clarinet Trio validate the clarinet’s adaptability as a vehicle for contemporary improvisation.

-- For Whole Note Vol. 18 #3

November 11, 2012

Bevan/Bourne/Buck/Phillips

Everybody Else But Me
Foghorn Records FOG CD 015

Urs Leimgruber/Jacques Demierre/Barre Phillips

Montreuil

Jazz Werkstatt JW 125

Now 78, bassist Barre Phillips is one of those Americans who transferred the investigational skills he intuited playing with the likes of reedists Eric Dolphy and Jimmy Giuffre to Europe in the late 1960s. Like most Jazzmen, he was looking for steady work, but since that time he has helped create a distinctive European improv aesthetic. Based in southern France for the past 40 years, Phillips has worked with nearly every major European musical innovator from saxophonist Evan Parker to fellow bassist Joëlle Léandre.

The polyglot line-up of these releases demonstrates Phillips’ on-going creativity while interacting with musicians of different backgrounds. Although both CDs feature a saxophonist and pianist along with Phillips, each is rewarding in its own fashion. Closer to a regular Free Jazz session, Everybody Else But Me benefits from the powerful presence of Oxford-based polymath reedist Tony Bevan, who is equally proficient on soprano, tenor and bass saxophones. Pianist is Matthew Bourne, some 40 years Phillips’ junior; a Yorkshire-based keyboardist who has played with everyone from guitarist Franck Vigroux to percussionist

Andrea Centazzo. Drumming duties are handled by Aussie-in-Berlin Tony Buck, best-known for his membership in The Necks. Free Music rather than Free Jazz, Montreuil is a live Paris-recorded session featuring the bassist’s long-standing cooperative trio with two Swiss musicians: saxophonist Urs Leimgruber and pianist Jacques Demierre. Both men have long experience playing notated and other musics, and also work together in the band 6.

Buck’s polyrhythmic strategy is also what differentiates the quartet session from the trio CD. But almost from the first, when Phillip’s stentorian thumps join internal string strums from the pianist and down-turning tonguing from Bevan, it’s clear that this is no disc for the faint-hearted or fastidious. By the second track, “The Harrison Ford Chord”, intensity is apparent as Bevan’s soprano sax playing takes on lyricon-like qualities, with the resulting trills meeting up with buzzing double bass strokes while Buck rattles bells and other little instruments and Bourne advances low-frequency cushioning tones. Eventually as the pianist’s high-pitched key glisses and clips harden, the saxophonist immerses himself in circular-breathed, nearly endless timbral variations which narrow the exposition without constricting it, make split-second reference to other tunes, and finally restate the theme.

Using his bass sax, Bevan builds “The Tailor’s Pike” out of contrasting dynamics, as his buzzing glissandi soon divide into shaking and irregularly vibrated tongue slurs, while the other players stay in a moderato groove, defined by the bassist’s string rubs and the pianist’s intervallic, low-frequency cadenzas. Managing to stay true to his original experimental impulse Bevan wraps up with scads of tart-tongued multiphonics. Elsewhere though, in a sudden volte-face, his balladic delicacy, in tandem with Bourne’s comping brings to mind Gerry Mulligan’s work with Jimmy Rowles. Furthermore, despite its faux Film Noir title, “Farewell My Lovelies” is more of the same, with Bevan, now on tenor saxophone, appending folk-ballad references to diaphragm-pushed glissandi he’s outputting at three times the tempo of the others, while Bourne contributes tremolo runs and Buck jittery brush work.

By and large though, the almost 14½ minute title track may be the disc’s most defining moment. With each player given space to sonically expand, the exposition includes non-confrontational and clean cymbal and snare pushes from Buck; moderated harmonies from Bourne and first scrubbed, than plucked, double bass lines from Phillips. Lining up with the bassist’s thumping rhythm, Bevan spews out some Gene Ammons-like slurs, which fit the narrative perfectly, despite the more romantic concept the other three are advancing. More frenetic in its final section “Everybody Else But Me” wraps up with the bassist’s spiccato angling, the pianist’s tremolo runs plus harder smacks on the cymbals and snares, while Bevan’s rough and agitated altissimo split tones turn to frenzied reed bites and squealing obbligatos.

Even more proficient in freneticism than Bevan, Leimgruber’s improvisations on Montreuil four selections are in the main more contained and compliant. It may be that the absence of a drummer discourages excess, but it’s also that this trio isn’t aiming for unbridled Energy Music.

For instance the saxophonist’s entrance on “Further Nearness” is all upper-register, soprano saxophone squeaks and trills, the better to blend with the bassist’s’ bottleneck guitar-like arpeggios and sweeping staccato lines from the pianist. Only when Demierre turns to double-gaited pumps, soundboard echoes and wound, internal string plucking do harder snorts and reed bites come from Leimgruber. Moving to his horn’s upper register, Leimgruber’s aviary ghost notes brush against swaying and strumming double-bass lines. A conclusive variant finds the saxman displaying altissimo squeaks, reed sucking, nasal vibrations and half-swallowed timbres, the better to join with Demierre’s rubs and scrapes on the piano strings plus Phillips’ staccato sawing.

Leimgruber is more outgoing in his tenor playing, although he has been known to mute his bell against his trouser leg. Stuttering reed bites and a stuttering squeals spread out to a sour vibrato during “Northrope”, while the pianist caresses the keys with both hands while producing pedal point glissandi. For his part the bassist is involved with higher-pitched, spiccato textures plus rapping on the wood, which as the narrative extends, hardens to define the rhythm. A descriptive contrapuntal sequence finds the saxophonist turning to shriller, more atonal squeals, delineating his sounds from those of Demierre, whose stentorian chording becomes denser and thickens to such an extent that he’s soon hitting the keys with jackhammer intensity.

It’s a credit to the three that following the cramped cascades that characterize the former track, they can also showcase isolated timbres on “Mantrappe”. Leimgruber’s soprano line judders with kaval-like cross-blown patterns, Demierre’s sequence encompasses string plucks and stops, while Phillips’ sul ponticello bass line quivers. Building up to a contrapuntal collection of wood smacks from both bassist and pianist, the narrative is helped along by guttural tenor saxophone groans. A cacophonous middle section of reed glossolalia, bass string pumps and keyboard clips wedges more sonic timbres into the lines that could be imagined, gradually gives was to a withdrawing finale where the bassist`s buzzing ostinato underlines Leimgruber’s puffing spetrofluctuation and Demierre’s intermittent key clips.

As he heads into his seventh decade as a professional musician, Phillips can look back on contributions to many memorable sessions. These two, almost completely dissimilar exercises in advanced improvising show, that with the right partners, his high-calibre music-making continues unabated.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Everybody: 1. A Prolegomena 2. The Harrison Ford Chord 3. The Tailor’s Pike 4. Empty Hall Blues 5. It Never Entered 6. Everybody Else But Me 7. Farewell My Lovelies

Personnel: Everybody: Tony Bevan (soprano, tenor and bass saxophones); Matthew Bourne (piano); Barre Phillips (bass) and Tony Buck (drums)

Track Listing: Montreuil: 1. Further Nearness 2. Northrope 3. Welchfingar 4. Mantrappe

Personnel: Montreuil: Urs Leimgruber (soprano and tenor saxophones); Jacques Demierre (piano) and Barre Phillips (bass)

September 26, 2012

Dunmall/Bourne/Kane/Davis

Moment to Moment
SLAM CD 279

Profound Sound Trio

Opus De Life

Porter Records PRCD 4032

Any purported differences that are supposed to divide American Free Jazz from European Free Jazz vanish under the steady assault of British tenor saxophonist Paul Dunmall when he works up a full head of improvising steam on Moment to Moment and Opus De Life.

Granted that the meeting on the first CD between the London-based saxophonist and a Leeds-based rhythm section begins with an interface more understated and timbre-searching than the spectacular blow-out he participated in with two legendary New York Free Jazzers eight days previously on Opus De Life. Yet when the saxophonist explodes into glossolalia and triple-tonguing on the more-than-19 minute “Voluntary Expressions” the distance created by the Atlantic Ocean seems to shrivel into puddle width. This is universal improvising; not British or American Jazz.

His accomplishment on these two CDs confirms that the power of the music is such that unexpectedly any date can turn into a major statement. Although the pairing between Dunmall – one of Britain’s most accomplished players, known for his membership in Mujician – with drummer Andrew Cyrille and bassist Henry Grimes was a justly anticipated set at 2008’s Vision Festival in New York, Moment to Moment was initially conceived as merely another provincial Dunmall gig.

Well, not really merely, but it’s truer that pianist/cellist Matthew Bourne, Leeds College of Music’s artist in residence; bassist Dave Kane and drummer Steve Davis have no profile compared to Cyrille and Grimes, who singly or together have played with nearly every pioneering major Free Jazz figure from Cecil Taylor and Anthony Braxton to Sonny Rollins and Albert Ayler. But improvisation involving seizing the moment, and that’s exactly what the four did at the University of West England that day, especially the saxophonist.

With the rhythm section moving as one, Dunmall’s initial response to Bourne’s rolling piano chords studded with pin-pricked single notes, plus Davis’ spaced rebounds and Kane’s steady walking is carefully timed saxophone breaths and unfurling outward riffing. When the saxophonist finally explodes into honking and slurring, these sounds are immediately matched in double counterpoint by Bourne’s high-frequency note clusters. No one looks back after that, and soon Dunmall is whistling obbligato-like behind Bourne’s accelerating tone placement and Kane’s chromatic coloration.

As “Voluntary Expressions” kicks into gear, upper-register reed squeaks vie for space along with piano key clips, reverberations from the wound internal piano strings and spiccato plucks from the bass. Soon a powerful rasgueado from Kane along with contrapuntal ruffs from Davis encourage the saxophonist’s shaking, slurry squeals. As Bourne rappels down the scale, then tears into connective chords, the reedist’s irregular pacing turns to horn-body splintering altissimo cries and guttural blasts. Finale involves Kane fuelling the interchange with triple-stopping and hand-pumping as the quadruple counterpoint dissolves into a flurry of repeated notes.

Would that Grimes, whose rediscovery early in the century was of Bunk Johnsonian-proportions, could bring the same power to his part that Kane does to his. Ignoring as well the simpering sweeps which characterize his violin solos, Grimes’ bass work is adequate to apt, leaving the heavy lifting to Dunmall and Cyrille. Overall the bassist’s presence appears to awake memories of Grimes’ tenure with Sonny Rollins in the saxman. So much so, that the final variant of Dunmall’s solo on “This Way, Please” mixes glossolalia and split tones and suggestions of half-forgotten pop tunes with which Rollins often transmogrified in his solos.

Cyrille claps, clanks, door-knocks, splashes his cymbal tops and pitter-patters ruffs, adding variety to his accompaniment. Meantime Grimes slides and stops, sometimes sawing the odd arco note. In contrast Dunmall’s output is thick and blanched, with the timbres seemingly not only sourced from the bottom and bow of his horn, but his stomach and lung linings as well. Renal and guttural in expression, his horn command never falters either. On “Beyonder” for instance he slows the tempo to expose sul tasto work from Grimes, and then reanimates the reed flow with honking and nephritic runs and reed bites. Hard and tough throughout, he complements Cyrille’s shuffle beat at the very end for a melodically tonal, double-tongued coda.

Two examples of Dunmall’s skill, these CDs vary only in location, duration, number of sidemen and their relative notoriety. More similar than not, the improvisations featured on both can be enjoyed in the same spirit.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Moment: 1. Moment to moment 2. Voluntary Expressions 3.Black Sun 4. The Face

Personnel: Moment: Paul Dunmall (tenor saxophone); Matthew Bourne (piano and cello); Dave Kane (bass) and Steve Davis (drums)

Track Listing: Opus: 1. This Way, Please 2.Call Paul 3. Whirligigging 4. Beyonder 5. Futurity

Personnel: Opus: Paul Dunmall (tenor saxophone and bagpipes); Henry Grimes (bass and violin) and Andrew Cyrille (drums)

January 1, 2010

Profound Sound Trio

Opus De Life
Porter Records PRCD 4032

Dunmall/Bourne/Kane/Davis

Moment to Moment

SLAM CD 279

Any purported differences that are supposed to divide American Free Jazz from European Free Jazz vanish under the steady assault of British tenor saxophonist Paul Dunmall when he works up a full head of improvising steam on Moment to Moment and Opus De Life.

Granted that the meeting on the first CD between the London-based saxophonist and a Leeds-based rhythm section begins with an interface more understated and timbre-searching than the spectacular blow-out he participated in with two legendary New York Free Jazzers eight days previously on Opus De Life. Yet when the saxophonist explodes into glossolalia and triple-tonguing on the more-than-19 minute “Voluntary Expressions” the distance created by the Atlantic Ocean seems to shrivel into puddle width. This is universal improvising; not British or American Jazz.

His accomplishment on these two CDs confirms that the power of the music is such that unexpectedly any date can turn into a major statement. Although the pairing between Dunmall – one of Britain’s most accomplished players, known for his membership in Mujician – with drummer Andrew Cyrille and bassist Henry Grimes was a justly anticipated set at 2008’s Vision Festival in New York, Moment to Moment was initially conceived as merely another provincial Dunmall gig.

Well, not really merely, but it’s truer that pianist/cellist Matthew Bourne, Leeds College of Music’s artist in residence; bassist Dave Kane and drummer Steve Davis have no profile compared to Cyrille and Grimes, who singly or together have played with nearly every pioneering major Free Jazz figure from Cecil Taylor and Anthony Braxton to Sonny Rollins and Albert Ayler. But improvisation involving seizing the moment, and that’s exactly what the four did at the University of West England that day, especially the saxophonist.

With the rhythm section moving as one, Dunmall’s initial response to Bourne’s rolling piano chords studded with pin-pricked single notes, plus Davis’ spaced rebounds and Kane’s steady walking is carefully timed saxophone breaths and unfurling outward riffing. When the saxophonist finally explodes into honking and slurring, these sounds are immediately matched in double counterpoint by Bourne’s high-frequency note clusters. No one looks back after that, and soon Dunmall is whistling obbligato-like behind Bourne’s accelerating tone placement and Kane’s chromatic coloration.

As “Voluntary Expressions” kicks into gear, upper-register reed squeaks vie for space along with piano key clips, reverberations from the wound internal piano strings and spiccato plucks from the bass. Soon a powerful rasgueado from Kane along with contrapuntal ruffs from Davis encourage the saxophonist’s shaking, slurry squeals. As Bourne rappels down the scale, then tears into connective chords, the reedist’s irregular pacing turns to horn-body splintering altissimo cries and guttural blasts. Finale involves Kane fuelling the interchange with triple-stopping and hand-pumping as the quadruple counterpoint dissolves into a flurry of repeated notes.

Would that Grimes, whose rediscovery early in the century was of Bunk Johnsonian-proportions, could bring the same power to his part that Kane does to his. Ignoring as well the simpering sweeps which characterize his violin solos, Grimes’ bass work is adequate to apt, leaving the heavy lifting to Dunmall and Cyrille. Overall the bassist’s presence appears to awake memories of Grimes’ tenure with Sonny Rollins in the saxman. So much so, that the final variant of Dunmall’s solo on “This Way, Please” mixes glossolalia and split tones and suggestions of half-forgotten pop tunes with which Rollins often transmogrified in his solos.

Cyrille claps, clanks, door-knocks, splashes his cymbal tops and pitter-patters ruffs, adding variety to his accompaniment. Meantime Grimes slides and stops, sometimes sawing the odd arco note. In contrast Dunmall’s output is thick and blanched, with the timbres seemingly not only sourced from the bottom and bow of his horn, but his stomach and lung linings as well. Renal and guttural in expression, his horn command never falters either. On “Beyonder” for instance he slows the tempo to expose sul tasto work from Grimes, and then reanimates the reed flow with honking and nephritic runs and reed bites. Hard and tough throughout, he complements Cyrille’s shuffle beat at the very end for a melodically tonal, double-tongued coda.

Two examples of Dunmall’s skill, these CDs vary only in location, duration, number of sidemen and their relative notoriety. More similar than not, the improvisations featured on both can be enjoyed in the same spirit.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Moment: 1. Moment to moment 2. Voluntary Expressions 3.Black Sun 4. The Face

Personnel: Moment: Paul Dunmall (tenor saxophone); Matthew Bourne (piano and cello); Dave Kane (bass) and Steve Davis (drums)

Track Listing: Opus: 1. This Way, Please 2.Call Paul 3. Whirligigging 4. Beyonder 5. Futurity

Personnel: Opus: Paul Dunmall (tenor saxophone and bagpipes); Henry Grimes (bass and violin) and Andrew Cyrille (drums)

January 1, 2010