Lest We Forget

Borah Bergman (1926 or 1933-2012)
By Ken Waxman

For someone who didn’t even record until he was in his forties, Borah Bergman’s prodigious talent soon marked him as one of jazz’s most skillful experimental pianist, a reputation he maintained until his death on October 18 last year.

An enigmatic figure, Brooklyn-born Bergman was either 79 or 86 when he died. He claimed he shaved seven years off his age in the biography for his first record date in 1975. That relatively mainstream disc on Chiaroscuro only hinted at his powers, which came to the fore during the subsequent decades in solo performances and as he partnered many of free jazz’s heavy hitters both in Europe and North America.

Bergmann’s improvising was most incredible in a solo setting, since after years of practice he developed his left hand so that he could play as speedily with it as the right; also allowing each hand to operate independently of the other. When he played ballads he used a crossed-hands technique: right hand for bass notes, treble for the left. Often described as an ambidextrous player, he preferred the term “ambi-ideation” since it stressed the equality of both hands.

Ironically for such an Ur-modernist, Bergmann’s first influence, which he often cited, was the powerful near-stride styling of Earl Hines, who he first heard at 12 on the “Potato Head Blues” record with Louis Armstrong. As a teenager he was also impressed by one-handed classical pianist Paul Wittgenstein, famous for commissioning and performing Maurice Ravel’s “Concerto for the Left Hand Alone.” Still by the time he was in his twenties, Bergmann was a bopper, with a preference for the keyboard advances of Lennie Tristano and Bud Powell. During that time he rarely performed in public however, concentrating on his career as a teacher of English and Music in the New York school system and perfecting his unique style with constant practicing.

Crucially, his mature style was seeded in the ‘60s when he first heard saxophone-centred Energy Music. Already impressed by chamber music, Bach and Dixieland as well as modern jazz, Ornette Coleman’s first LPs with Don Cherry, where the instruments played both contrapuntally and polyphonically, made him decide to replicate that freedom in a solo setting. Similarly, the stamina, speed and passion John Coltrane brought to his mammoth solo on “Chasin’ the Trane,” which Bergmann also heard at that time, was another influence. Listening to the LP at 45 rpm he practiced along with it, gradually evolving a stream-of-consciousness method to liberate his own playing from its technical restrictions.

After he was introduced to the producer of Italy’s Soul Note/Black Saint records by the editor of Musica Jazz, and released well-received discs like Upside Down Vision in the early ‘80s, he became renowned for his solo playing. And he was indefatigable. Few will forget an appearance at a late ’90s Vision Festival when he came on after 1 A.M. after a full evening of overwhelming music by a series of downtown bands, and was still improvising at full intensity more than one hour later.

Later on Bergmann aptly demonstrated that empathy existed alongside this technical prowess, sharing recordings with powerful drummers like Hamid Drake and Andrew Cyrille and more spectacularly with reedists such as Oliver Lake, Roscoe Mitchell, Anthony Braxton and Ivo Perelman, plus advanced European saxophonists like Evan Parker, Frode Gjerstad and, on three separate occasions, fellow go-for-broke improviser Peter Brötzmann. Eight By Three (Mixtery Records) from 1996, with Braxton, Brötzmann and Bergmann is particularly rewarding.

One trio session from 1997 featuring the pianist Brötzmann and Cyrille is entitled Exhilaration. And that feeling is what’s often experienced listening to Bergmann’s matchless performances.

--For The New York City Jazz Record April 2013

April 6, 2013

Trio 3+ Geri Allen

Celebrating Mary Lou Williams: Live At Birdland New York
Intakt CD 187

A modernist salute to Mary Lou Williams, a pioneering woman composer/pianist, from Geri Allen, a contemporary stylist with similar talents, the remarkable factor about this disc, may be Allen’s choice of playing partners: the members of Trio 3. A band which more commonly works with spikier fare, the sounds on Trio 3’s CDs usually falls chronologically between what is created by the dedicator and the dedicatée.

Williams (1910–1981), was pianist and chief arranger for Andy Kirk's Twelve Clouds of Joy during the heyday of Kansas City Jazz in the 1930s; went on to be a friend and champion of early Boppers such as Thelonious Monk; composed suites and orchestral pieces throughout her life; and before the end of her career even preformed a duet concert with Cecil Taylor. Although the guiding force behind this pleasantly mainstream salute to Williams was Allen, an academic, post-Bop stylist, and a friend of Williams’ confident Peter F. O’Brien S.J., the Trio’s drummer Andrew Cyrille, worked with Williams early in his career, and more prominently spent an extended stint in Taylor’s unit.

The other Trio members have a similarly rooted background. One of the founders of St. Louis’ BAG collective, alto saxophonist Oliver Lake is best-known for his extended membership in the World Saxophone Quart as well as leading his own bands. Bassist Reggie Workman also leads his own groups after an apprenticeship that goes back to 1960s’ stints with both John Coltrane and Art Blakey.

Ranging through Williams’ compositions from the 1930s to the 1970s, the quartet interprets the pieces in a fashion that’s both swinging and staccato. Except for Allen’s solo recital-like version of “Libra” from the composer’s Zodiac Suite, which is given simple rococo coloration, the other pieces are more outgoing.

“New Musical Express” from the 1950s, for instance, garners a treatment that’s bows to both Bop and Boogie Woogie. Allen’s bravura reading includes passionate swing and kinetic strums while Lake’s passages encompass triple-vibrated, split-tone expressions, in which the odd Dolphyesque run appears. After Workman walks, then rappels up and down his swaying strings, the piece opens up for a Cyrille solo that includes claps, rebounds, drags and bounces, with rim shot action and a continuous beat keeping the line moving, Harmonizing at the finale, the pianist and the altoist together make it seem as if a big band is playing.

There’s the same feeling with “Roll ‘Em”, which Williams write for the 1936 Benny Goodman band. Although Workman walks at times and Cyrille pops and pumps, it’s likely Goodman would have given his disapproving hard-eyed “ray” to Lake’s solo in that it’s all squeak and splutter done with reed-bursting intensity. What defines the piece of course is the lick trading among the sections that follows the bassist’s slow-paced double-stopping. Cyrille rolls and beats time; Allen churns through colorful syncopation and tremolo patterns and Lake returns to recap a high-pitched melody variant.

Trio 3 +1 even add a (Rhythm &) bluesier cast to “What’s Your Story, Morning Glory”, the older pianist’s best-known composition. In his best Tab Smith-like fashion, Lake takes the piece a capella at the top, then transforming it too into a squeaker and screamer. However Allen maintains the pace with showy arpeggios and resolute glissandi, finally turning to low-frequency chording as Workman’s thumping bass and Lake’s blues variations take the tune out.

Commemorative of Williams without being imitative; adding avant-garde touches to her pieces in a configuration that she rarely if ever used; this live set is a fitting tribute to the pioneering composer/pianist. If only more contemporary players would treat older Jazz material this way, dreary recreations would be avoided and Jazz’s musical past could be properly and interestingly celebrated.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Introduction by Gianni Valenti, Birdland 2. Blues for Peter 3. Ghost of Love 4. New Musical Express 5. Intermission 6. What’s Your Story, Morning Glory 7. Libra 8. Roll’Em

Personnel: Oliver Lake (alto saxophone); Gerri Allen (piano); Reggie Workman (bass) and Andrew Cyrille (drums)

January 20, 2012

Kjaergaard/Street/Cyrille

Open Opus
ILK 166 CD

By Ken Waxman

Deepening the partnership they established with Optics a couple of years ago, pianist Søren Kjaergaard, bassist Ben Street and drummer Andrew Cyrille function as three parts of an interlocking mechanism on this CD.

The Danish pianist, who composed all the tracks here except for two group improvs, has an authoritative style which mixes framed single notes with expressive passages that expand into steady chording. Veteran of gigs with everyone from singer Jimmy Scott to pianist Danilo Perez, the bassist advances a systematic ostinato that steadies the rhythm throughout, while the drummer, best-known for the decade plus he backed pianist Cecil Taylor, colors the nine tunes with percussive asides that range from expected rolls and ruffs to crossed drumstick smacks to echoes from hollow wood manipulations.

That last strategy signals the finale of “Places Birds Fly From”, which otherwise unfolds as Kjaergaard’s economic comping accelerates into lightly paced patterning. More than twice and one-third the age of his compatriots, Cyrille, 70, reinforces the beat with the sort of unselfconscious swing he would have brought to early gigs with the likes of saxophonist Coleman Hawkins. Eventually his rattling patterns on this track make room for tinkling grace notes from the pianist.

Other Kjaergaard compositional and playing strategies bend mainstream allusions to make new statements. On “Floating World (Ukiyo)” for instance, he languidly caresses a downward running line, keeping it askew by appending allusions to beginner’s piano exercises. Meanwhile “Fatha” – likely not named for Earl “Fatha” Hines – mixes a magisterial legato intro with a low-frequency detour into what could be “Autumn Leaves”. The overall relaxed feel finally leads to gentle keyboard musings.

Throughout the CD, Street’s full-out plucks, Cyrille cantering bops and shaded accents plus Kjaergaard’s pianism which ranges from isolated single notes to swirling classicism and passing chords, cement the trio interaction. If Open Opus has a shortcoming, it’s that it was recorded in 2008. One wonders how much tighter the group sounds today.

Tracks: Like A Motherless Sun (For Sun Ra); Floating World (Ukiyo); Kanon-I-Ka; Open Opus 3; Places Birds Fly From; Open Opus 5; Fatha; Abrahms’ Paraphrase; Naya

Personnel: Søren Kjaergaard: piano; Ben Street: bass; Andrew Cyrille: drums

--For New York City Jazz Record August 2011

August 6, 2011

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

Rhythm Section + Fred Van Hove

Hear here now
(K-RAA-K)3 K055

Søren Kjægaard/Ben Street/Andrew Cyrille

Optics

ILK 140 CD

Both Northern European-North American collaborations, these piano trios not only demonstrate how these trans-Atlantic meetings evolve, but also inadvertently pinpoint the mainstreaming of improvisation among some prodigiously technically equipped European players.

Antwerp-based pianist Fred Van Hove was born in 1936, putting him firmly in the first generation of European Free Music innovators, a status confirmed by his on-and-off work with German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann, including 1968’s monumental Machine Gun LP. Putting Optics, the other CD in a historical continuum, Machine Gun was recorded a decade before its featured keyboardist, Copenhagen-based Søren Kjægaard, was born.

Over the years Van Hove has played with nearly every important figure in EuroImprov and began experimenting with the accordion, an instrument he plays on one track here. The reason for Hear here now’s unexpected reverse billing is however, is that the Rhythm Section of 45-year-old Flemish bassist/sculptor Peter Jacquemyn and young Japanese-born, Pennsylvania-based percussionist Tatsuya Nakatani often tour as a duo. They hooked up with the pianist for this one concert in Hasselt, Belgium.

Optics on the other hand is under the direction of Kjægaard, who wrote or co-wrote all the tunes. Winner of numerous European jazz prizes, the pianist has written for film as well as touring as part of Canadian saxophonist Michael Blake’s Blake Tartare and American trumpeter Herb Robertson’s band. Still, this New York date is a first-time meeting between him and two Yanks: young bassist Ben Street, who works with pianist Danielo Pérez and has recorded with octogenarian saxophonist Sam Rivers; and drummer Andrew Cyrille – only three years Van Hove’s junior – whose best-known associations include pianist Cecil Taylor and saxophonist Oliver Lake.

Moving back to Europe at first, on Hear here now, Van Hove approaches the squeeze box with the same originality that he brings to the keyboard. Pumping and pulsing, works the accordion’s actions so that they smear jam-like opaqueness over the sound field, reverberating and highlighting supplementary overtones and denoting the instrument’s sonic resemblance to an organ. Meanwhile Nakatani knocks snaps and rolls different parts of his kit, as the bassist moves from near-silent singular string rubs to rampaging sequentially from all points of his bass’s compass, crafting jagged timbres as the bow almost literally bounces off the strings. Nonetheless, Van Hove’s finesse on the keys, buttons and bellows is so dominant that is output never masks the others’ contributions.

Cognizant of – but never in debt to Cecil Taylor’s piano style – Van Hove’s undulations and cross-pulsations are given full reign on the other tracks, especially the almost 32-minute “Hear”. Beginning with contrasting dynamics he soon turns to sweeping glissandi, then slips and recoils across the keyboard. As high-frequency harmonies unfurl, Jacquemyn responds with spiccato squeaks and plucked double stops. The percussionist adds to the polyphony by ringing a miniature bell, repeatedly thwacking his snare and grating a thick drumstick across an un-lathed cymbal. Each man’s contribution is so in synch that, for instance, there are points where it’s impossible to attribute a slide-whistle-like tone to the bassist’s bow thrust or the drummer’s stick movement.

As the piece evolves, Van Hove accelerates the tempo to TGV train-like speed, and then retards it, as he digs into the piano’s innards with low-frequency chording. The pianist’s stop-time, kinetic string ratcheting causes Jacquemyn to rework his bass pattern to atmospheric angled sul tasto sprawls as Nakatani smacks his toms and pings his cymbals. Chromatically strumming a final keyboard variation, the pianist locks into passing chords from the other two to climax with two-handed pressure.

If the interaction between Van Hove and Jacquemyn is most pronounced on the first CD, then the sonic transfer between Cyrille and Kjægaard – outwardly a less experimental pianist than the Belgian – on Optics is that much more profound. In fact, “Mallets” and “Work of Art”, two duos, are the CD’s most notable tracks.

On the later Kjægaard ranges over the piano with lean assurance as Cyrille pops his cymbals and pummels his drum tops. With keys flashing, fanning and clipping, the pianist builds up to a powerful interlude of practically out-of-time improvising, until the drummer’s pumps, drags and bounces impart a different rhythmic feel to the double counterpoint. Exposing every part of the tune’s exoskeleton in the climax, Kjægaard’s technical command is such that his subsequent solo contrasts penetrating naked note clusters with a processional flow of legato single notes.

Similarly on “Mallets”, the pianist expands the tune’s dynamic range with a series of arpeggios and glissandi as the drummer beats his toms with mallets. Digging in with harder cross-pumping and tough, metronomic voicing, Kjægaard first subtly doubles the tempo, and then decelerates it to a raggy, stop-time by the finale.

Scholastic, learned conservatism seems to inhabit many of the trio tracks however. Most notable is “Radio House Requiem”, a lament for Danish Radio’s lessening commitment to jazz and improvised music. Although Kjægaard sounds relaxed enough as he strums pressured chords backed by Street’s thumping bass and Cyrille’s gentled taps, the entire performance is eerily reminiscent of Lennie Tristano’s “Requiem” from 1955.

On the other hand too many of the other tracks are unfocused or impressionistic inching towards less-strained improvising, but held back by formal pianistic inhibitions. Some passages may be contrapuntal and others skitter towards multiphonics, but a large number merely skirt prettiness. Even the title track – a four-part suite – may showcase stair-step-like chromatic piano lines, pumping Jimmy Garrison-style string stretching from Street and Cyrille’s most rhythmically confined beats – he played with a clutch of mainstreamers as well as innovators like Taylor – but the end result is too romantic and muted. It’s like Bill Evans’ style lacking his without the buried hard core.

Still Optics should hold interest for piano trio fanciers, Cyrille followers and those who want to hear a technically equipped pianist at the beginning of his career. On the other hand, Hear here now is a triumphant example of assured, hard-core improvisation. Remember that Kjægaard still has another 40-odd years to attain Van Hove’s mastery after all.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Hear: 1. Hear 2. Here 3. Now

Personnel: Hear: Fred Van Hove (piano and accordion); Peter Jacquemyn (bass) and Tatsuya Nakatani (percussion)

Track Listing: Optics: 1. Optics 2. Dear Mr. Sear 3. Cyrille Surreal 4. Elegy 5. Mallets 6. Gyamtso 7. Work of Art 8. Radio House Requiem

Personnel: Optics: Søren Kjægaard (piano); Ben Street (bass) and Andrew Cyrille (drums and percussion)

July 25, 2008

Søren Kjægaard/Ben Street/Andrew Cyrille

Optics
ILK 140 CD

Rhythm Section + Fred Van Hove

Hear here now

(K-RAA-K)3 K055

Both Northern European-North American collaborations, these piano trios not only demonstrate how these trans-Atlantic meetings evolve, but also inadvertently pinpoint the mainstreaming of improvisation among some prodigiously technically equipped European players.

Antwerp-based pianist Fred Van Hove was born in 1936, putting him firmly in the first generation of European Free Music innovators, a status confirmed by his on-and-off work with German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann, including 1968’s monumental Machine Gun LP. Putting Optics, the other CD in a historical continuum, Machine Gun was recorded a decade before its featured keyboardist, Copenhagen-based Søren Kjægaard, was born.

Over the years Van Hove has played with nearly every important figure in EuroImprov and began experimenting with the accordion, an instrument he plays on one track here. The reason for Hear here now’s unexpected reverse billing is however, is that the Rhythm Section of 45-year-old Flemish bassist/sculptor Peter Jacquemyn and young Japanese-born, Pennsylvania-based percussionist Tatsuya Nakatani often tour as a duo. They hooked up with the pianist for this one concert in Hasselt, Belgium.

Optics on the other hand is under the direction of Kjægaard, who wrote or co-wrote all the tunes. Winner of numerous European jazz prizes, the pianist has written for film as well as touring as part of Canadian saxophonist Michael Blake’s Blake Tartare and American trumpeter Herb Robertson’s band. Still, this New York date is a first-time meeting between him and two Yanks: young bassist Ben Street, who works with pianist Danielo Pérez and has recorded with octogenarian saxophonist Sam Rivers; and drummer Andrew Cyrille – only three years Van Hove’s junior – whose best-known associations include pianist Cecil Taylor and saxophonist Oliver Lake.

Moving back to Europe at first, on Hear here now, Van Hove approaches the squeeze box with the same originality that he brings to the keyboard. Pumping and pulsing, works the accordion’s actions so that they smear jam-like opaqueness over the sound field, reverberating and highlighting supplementary overtones and denoting the instrument’s sonic resemblance to an organ. Meanwhile Nakatani knocks snaps and rolls different parts of his kit, as the bassist moves from near-silent singular string rubs to rampaging sequentially from all points of his bass’s compass, crafting jagged timbres as the bow almost literally bounces off the strings. Nonetheless, Van Hove’s finesse on the keys, buttons and bellows is so dominant that is output never masks the others’ contributions.

Cognizant of – but never in debt to Cecil Taylor’s piano style – Van Hove’s undulations and cross-pulsations are given full reign on the other tracks, especially the almost 32-minute “Hear”. Beginning with contrasting dynamics he soon turns to sweeping glissandi, then slips and recoils across the keyboard. As high-frequency harmonies unfurl, Jacquemyn responds with spiccato squeaks and plucked double stops. The percussionist adds to the polyphony by ringing a miniature bell, repeatedly thwacking his snare and grating a thick drumstick across an un-lathed cymbal. Each man’s contribution is so in synch that, for instance, there are points where it’s impossible to attribute a slide-whistle-like tone to the bassist’s bow thrust or the drummer’s stick movement.

As the piece evolves, Van Hove accelerates the tempo to TGV train-like speed, and then retards it, as he digs into the piano’s innards with low-frequency chording. The pianist’s stop-time, kinetic string ratcheting causes Jacquemyn to rework his bass pattern to atmospheric angled sul tasto sprawls as Nakatani smacks his toms and pings his cymbals. Chromatically strumming a final keyboard variation, the pianist locks into passing chords from the other two to climax with two-handed pressure.

If the interaction between Van Hove and Jacquemyn is most pronounced on the first CD, then the sonic transfer between Cyrille and Kjægaard – outwardly a less experimental pianist than the Belgian – on Optics is that much more profound. In fact, “Mallets” and “Work of Art”, two duos, are the CD’s most notable tracks.

On the later Kjægaard ranges over the piano with lean assurance as Cyrille pops his cymbals and pummels his drum tops. With keys flashing, fanning and clipping, the pianist builds up to a powerful interlude of practically out-of-time improvising, until the drummer’s pumps, drags and bounces impart a different rhythmic feel to the double counterpoint. Exposing every part of the tune’s exoskeleton in the climax, Kjægaard’s technical command is such that his subsequent solo contrasts penetrating naked note clusters with a processional flow of legato single notes.

Similarly on “Mallets”, the pianist expands the tune’s dynamic range with a series of arpeggios and glissandi as the drummer beats his toms with mallets. Digging in with harder cross-pumping and tough, metronomic voicing, Kjægaard first subtly doubles the tempo, and then decelerates it to a raggy, stop-time by the finale.

Scholastic, learned conservatism seems to inhabit many of the trio tracks however. Most notable is “Radio House Requiem”, a lament for Danish Radio’s lessening commitment to jazz and improvised music. Although Kjægaard sounds relaxed enough as he strums pressured chords backed by Street’s thumping bass and Cyrille’s gentled taps, the entire performance is eerily reminiscent of Lennie Tristano’s “Requiem” from 1955.

On the other hand too many of the other tracks are unfocused or impressionistic inching towards less-strained improvising, but held back by formal pianistic inhibitions. Some passages may be contrapuntal and others skitter towards multiphonics, but a large number merely skirt prettiness. Even the title track – a four-part suite – may showcase stair-step-like chromatic piano lines, pumping Jimmy Garrison-style string stretching from Street and Cyrille’s most rhythmically confined beats – he played with a clutch of mainstreamers as well as innovators like Taylor – but the end result is too romantic and muted. It’s like Bill Evans’ style lacking his without the buried hard core.

Still Optics should hold interest for piano trio fanciers, Cyrille followers and those who want to hear a technically equipped pianist at the beginning of his career. On the other hand, Hear here now is a triumphant example of assured, hard-core improvisation. Remember that Kjægaard still has another 40-odd years to attain Van Hove’s mastery after all.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Hear: 1. Hear 2. Here 3. Now

Personnel: Hear: Fred Van Hove (piano and accordion); Peter Jacquemyn (bass) and Tatsuya Nakatani (percussion)

Track Listing: Optics: 1. Optics 2. Dear Mr. Sear 3. Cyrille Surreal 4. Elegy 5. Mallets 6. Gyamtso 7. Work of Art 8. Radio House Requiem

Personnel: Optics: Søren Kjægaard (piano); Ben Street (bass) and Andrew Cyrille (drums and percussion)

July 25, 2008

THE MARY LOU WILLIAMS COLLECTIVE

Zodiac Suite Revisited
Mary Records M104

By Ken Waxman

Designating this as a disc by the Mary Lou Williams Collective rather than as the more saleable Geri Allen piano trio confirms the purpose of the session. Part of an ongoing campaign by The Mary Lou Williams Foundation to keep contemporary the music of Williams (1910-1981), Allen and company extend and interpret Williams’ Zodiac Suite from 1945 and other pieces, ending with an Allen salute to the pioneering composer-pianist.

This is much more than one of those dates where singer X salutes Ella Fitzgerald or pianist Y runs through his favorite Thelonious Monk material. Williams, whose career highpoints stretched from being chief arranger and composer for Andy Kirk’s Clouds of Joy in 1930s Kansas City to a dual piano disc with Cecil Taylor in 1977, was constantly innovating. Pianistically, Williams’ style linked stride master James P. Johnson, innovative swing pianists Art Tatum and Earl Hines to the bebop-modern jazz advances of Bud Powell, Herbie Nichols and Monk.

Detroit-born Allen is similarly protean, with a style that goes on from modern touchstones to take in Herbie Hancock and touches of McCoy Tyner and Taylor, although her association with her husband, trumpeter Wallace Roney, has caused her to shy away from the avant-gardism of her earlier career.

Other-directed, ZODIAC SUITE REVISITED doesn’t call for outside playing anyhow, and she’s aided by three of jazz’s most accomplished. Drummer Billy Hart, best-known for his association with saxophonist Charles Lloyd and Hancock, works regularly with Allen. So does bassist Buster Williams, who also was in the bands of Hancock and played with Williams herself in the 1960s and 1970s. On two selections Andrew Cyrille, who played with Williams early in his career, and extensively with Taylor, takes the drum chair.

Honoring a series of Williams’ associates – including Duke Ellington, tenor saxophonist Ben Webster, trombonist Vic Dickenson, trumpeter Dizzy Gillespie and many others – the most enduring parts of the suite are the trio selections. The solo piano selections, even in Allen’s hands are a little too showy and romantic with passing chords taking the place of development. Still the younger pianist does bring out the gospel inflections in “Aquarius”, which in this incarnation suggests a precursor to “Lean on Me”.

With bass and drums in tow, however, Allen is able to work out as many allusions and variations as she desires from finger-snapping blues to keyboard-landscaped near waltzes. “Gemini”, for instance, shifts from a country’n’western ballad to a near-boogie-woogie tempo until other voicing gives it a more progressive architecture. “Virgo” has the feel of Errol Garner working out on “Bag’s Groove”, with Williams again holding the pedal point and a quirky melodic ending; meanwhile Hart’s martial cross rolls help personalize the balladic “Leo”.

Expanded with cymbal beats and low-pitched walking bass, “Taurus” moves from a vibrated intro downwards, as Allen’s stabbing lines are reminiscent both of stride and the advances of Monk and Nichols. Linked to this transformation is Nichols’ “The Bebop Waltz”- often played by Williams – which here wiggles from Allen’s flowery passing tones to resemble Hancock’s “Maiden Voyage”.

A bonus, Allen’s tribute to Williams, “Thank You Madam”, underlines the differences between the two pianists. A softly resolved modal ballad, its pedaling cadences and low-frequency dynamics alternate impressionism with tougher episodes.

An appropriate salute from one pianist/composer to another, ZODIAC SUITE REVISITED bodes well for future Mary Lou Williams Collective projects.

Track Listing: Zodiac Suite: [1.Aries 2. Taurus 3. Gemini 4. Cancer 5. Leo 6. Virgo 7. Libra 8. Scorpio 9. Sagittarius 10. Capricorn 11. Aquarius 12. Pisces ] 13. The BeBop Waltz* 14. Intermission 15. Thank You Madam*

Personnel: Geri Allen (piano); Buster Williams (bass); Andrew Cyrille* or Billy Hart (drums)

August 14, 2006

TOM MCINTOSH

With Malice Toward None
IPO IPOC 005

GRACHAN MONCUR III
Exploration
Capri 74068-2

Two generations of interconnected trombonists/composers get their due on these multi-faceted tributes which not only showcase some of their newer compositions plus their established standards but figuratively stick a ‘bone slide into the eye of the neo-cons.

Tom McIntosh (born 1927) and Grachan Moncur III (born 1937) were respected writers and soloists in the 1950s and 1960s (McIntosh) and 1960s and 1970s (Moncur) with a clutch of big names. McIntosh either played with or wrote compositions for James Moody, the Art Farmer/Benny Golson Jazztet and Dizzy Gillespie; Moncur’s best-known associations were with the Jazztet, alto saxophonist Jackie McLean and tenor saxophonist Archie Shepp.

Both are East Coasters and both brought a variety of sophisticated colors to their compositions using different instrumentation than the standard sax/brass/rhythm section of hard bop combo. But like many other non-standard advances -- and perhaps as a way to insist on the novelty of orchestral arrangements for certain big bands associated with large civic organizations -- the subtle styling of folks like these two, George Russell, Gigi Gryce and Golson himself, has been conveniently forgotten. Interesting arrangements weren’t limited to so-called dreaded West Coast Jazz.

Both trombonists have had a very low profile recently. Lured to Hollywood during the jazz recession at the end of the 1960s, McIntosh spent the next two decades as a music director for films and TV. Returning east in the 1990s, he taught at conservatories in New York and Boston and one of his star students, pianist Helen Sung, is featured on a couple of tunes here. This is the first record session ever under McIntosh’s name.

Moncur was both luckier and more unfortunate. He recorded frequently in the 1960s, including several sessions under his own name, but by steadfastly holding onto his publishing rights, he was soon estranged from the so-called jazz business. When the jazz recession hit, he concentrated on music education in Newark, N.J., then in the 1990s, recurring dental problems curtailed his playing. Hearing him solo alongside the collection of heavyweights assembled for EXPLORATION, the first album under his leadership since 1977, proves that his chops are back to being as strong as his pen.

WITH MALICE TOWARD NONE’s strengths are that it mixes new McIntosh compositions with his classics like “The Cup Bearers”, “MVP” and the title tune. But with 13 [!] potential soloists on the different tracks, its weakness is that too many players get their say on too many tunes, sometimes reducing arrangements to an exercise in round-robin soloing. Also the two “bonus tracks” at the end are merely jam session standards, not new Mac tunes.

One of the paramount achievements here is the more than 16-minute new composition, “Ruptures in the Rapture”, which recasts “My Blue Heaven” as a blues. Shifting from a romantic introduction by Sung to moderato, mid-range licks from the horns, it opens up with solos by trumpeter Jimmy Owens and tenor saxophonist Golson. Owens, one of the busiest big band/studio cats, has that rep because he can play almost anything. He demonstrates that here as his bravura output works chromatic line up into the very highest range of the trumpet without losing a scintilla of control, then turns from double-tonguing to growls and mouthpiece kisses.

Golson, who was the teenage best friend of John Coltrane, shows that sheets of sound didn’t develop in a vacuum. Here he mixes altissimo squeals and rock bottom snorts that evolve into a cascading waterfall of carefully accented notes. Sly harmonic overtones from vibist Stefon Harris plus rim shots and duple bounces from drummer Ben Perowsky -- who usually hangs with the John Zorn crowd -- lead to the horns reprising the theme, then combine for a thunderous ending.

“I’m Out No Hating” another new tune is a further contrafact, recasting “Please Don’t Talk About Me While I’m Gone” as a Horace Silver-style shuffle. Although young guitarist Bill Washer’s Barney Kessel-style swing-to-bop guitar lines give the piece shape, it’s the veterans who really sing. Keyboardist Roger Kellaway, another studio master, improvises a bluesy line that relies on his wide reach and simple, yet effective chording. Coming on like two-tenor duelers of the past, Golson and James Moody push the tune into high gear with the latter showing that he can mix sophistication with the roughhewn lines that preceded rhythm and blues.

Classics like “The MVP”, originally written as a tribute to Gillespie, move with the proper exuberance on top of a clave-and-woodblock Latin beat from the drummer, the guitarist, Richard Davis on bass and Dizzy’s former pianist Kenny Barron on the keys. Barron adds flashing accents and overtones that play up the Afro blues that exist in Latin sounds. Meantime, Davis snakes up and down the strings while maintaining the beat, and Owens and Golson create a polyphonic counterline to McIntosh’s solo. Lowing as clearly as the past, he ends it with a slight tailgate slur.

Between Owens’ brassy flourishes and the solid work of all the saxophonists, most of the tunes are enjoyable. But the entire project misses the top rank on some of the other compositions when solo follows solo follows solo.

EXPLORATION fares better, since arranger/conductor Mark Masters gives a new musical face to Moncur’s best-known tunes. But Masters, an academic, who has done similar work on the oeuvre of the late trombonist Jimmy Knepper and with alto saxophonist Lee Konitz, has a tendency to make things a little too clean and overwrought. He occasionally voices the octet to sound as overbearing as a Stan Kenton big band. Also, like the McIntosh CD, there are sometimes a few too many short solos.

Overall though Moncur’s strong writing and playing shine through. For instance “When?”, first recorded in 1969, here becomes more mainstream than it was initially, with an arrangement that seems to reference MILES AHEAD. Still it provides a showcase for the composer’s distinctive rubato sliding and stopping.

Moncur’s hearty, burry tone also roughs up the chromatic line that is “Love and Hate”. Behind him, tenor saxist Billy Harper concisely smears out a solo, becoming abstract without being atonal. Rock-solid bassist Ray Drummond trades breaks with Harper, and the piece manages to retain its shape despite what appears to be Masters’ desire to reconstruct Moncur’s lead sheet into a cleaner arrangement. “Excursion” the one attempt at so-called “collective music making” fails miserably s well. This mixture of conflicting, accentual patterns with each voice separate but equal in a mishmash of polyharmony, polyphony, polyrhythm and polytonality gives this try at Free Jazz a bad name. Considering none of the players -- except maybe drummer Andrew Cyrille -- were never really committed to out-and-out experimentation, this admixture confirms their incompatibility to the style.

Much more illustrative of Moncur’s compositional gifts are “Monk in Wonderland” initially recorded in 1963, and the four-part, nearly 10-minute “New Africa”, another line from 1969. The former replicates in sound the sort of wobbly gait associated with Monk’s individuality, and is given more depth in its larger ensemble recasting. Cyrille and Drummond never drop a beat in the background, as both baritone saxophonist Gary Smulyan, who has anchored many New York big bands, and alto saxophonist Gary Bartz, who was a later Miles Davis sideman, turn in characteristic stentorian and systematic solos. Finally the bassist wraps things up with a spectacular display of triple stopping before the head is reprised.

EXPLORATION’s most audacious piece, “New Africa” again builds on the double stopping strings and cymbal clatter of the masterful bassist and drummer. Key point is the tempered blending of the other horns into a choir, as Harper expresses his Texas roots with eddying curling work out that would have made Booker Ervin proud.

Since there’s no other CD under McIntosh’s name, WITH MALICE TOWARD NONE accrues added importance and will probably enchant dyed in the wool, sophisticated boppers. Yet it’s the Moncur session that truly burnishes the other trombonist’s reputation.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: None: 1. The Cup Bearers*+ 2. MVP# 3, Ruptures in the Rapture^ % 4. Minor Consolidation^ 5. With Malice Toward None%~ 6. Balanced Scales Equal Justice 7. I’m Out No Hating+^ 8. Billie’s Bounce+# 9. Long Ago and Far Away%

Personnel: None: Jimmy Owens (trumpet); Tom McIntosh (trombone); James Moody^ (tenor saxophone and flute); Frank Perowsky*, Benny Golson [except 3, 6] (tenor saxophone); Kenny Barron#, Helen Sung%, Roger Kellaway +(piano); Stefon Harris (vibes); Bill Washer (guitar); Richard Davis [except 6], Buster Williams~ (bass); Ben Perowsky (drums)

Track Listing: Track Listing: Exploration: 1. Exploration 2. Monk In Wonderland 3. Love and Hate 4. New Africa 5. When? 6. Frankenstein 7. Excursion 8. Sonny’s Back!

Personnel: Exploration: Tim Hagans (trumpet); Dave Woodley, Grachan Moncur III (trombone); Trombone John Clark (French horn); Gary Bartz (alto saxophone); Billy Harper (tenor saxophone); Gary Smulyan (baritone saxophone); Ray Drummond (bass) Andrew Cyrille (drums); Mark Masters (arranger/conductor)

March 14, 2005

DAVE BURRELL’S FULL BLOWN TRIO

Expansion
High Two Recording HT001

BENNINK/CLARK/GLERUM
Home Safely
Favorite 01

Instrumental fashions come and go, but one of the most consistent jazz combo configurations is the piano trio. As long as the three sides of the triangle are properly balanced, despite its maturity, it’s still possible to create outstanding sessions. Both these CDs confirm the equation to a greater or lesser extent. Neither could be confused for the other however.

Put simply, EXPANSION is an event -- the first CD by pianist Dave Burrell for an American label since 1966 -- and a masterful addition to his slim catalogue. Not for nothing is the band called the Full-Blown Trio either. William Parker is on bass and Andrew Cyrille on drums.

More conventional, HOME SAFELY was actually recorded in 1994, but not released until now. It showcases 12 compositions by American expatriate pianist Curtis Clark -- who has lived on-and-off in Amsterdam since the late 1970s -- aided by one of the Netherlands top rhythm teams: bassist Ernst Glerum and drummer Han Bennink, who perform a similar function for the ICP Orchestra.

Although born in 1940, and a fixture on the Free Jazz scene since the mid-1960s, Burrell is a far different breed of cat than Cecil Taylor, as the bassist and drummer, who played with Taylor in different epochs could easily tell you. Although Burrell made his reputation playing with fire-breathing saxists like Noah Howard, Archie Shepp and David Murray he was always known as a song man. As long ago as the 1970s he was playing his own versions of ragtime and swing. Burrell, who wrote all the tunes but one here, is a consolidator who weaves musical strands together to make his points. You can hear this as early as the first and title tune.

Beginning with the sounds of straightforward bebop, the composition soon splinters into a Ragtime section, complete with broken chords and percussive pedal work, creating a high-gloss pumping piano line. This glimpse is intensified on “They Say It’s Wonderful”, Burrell’s solo version of the Irving Berlin classic. At times it’s almost as if Willie “The Lion” Smith is working out a stride version of the melody featuring a perambulating walking bass. Burrell’s left hand provides the rhythmic variations as the right hand plays the melody. Working his way through impressionistic note clusters, he reorients the song outwards and ends with flourishes and a Basie-like plink.

“About Face” showcases Cyrille’s marching-band beat that breaks up into rolls and bounces. Continuing the martial theme, Parker adds a woody thump and the pianist goes from key clipping and offbeat runs to studding the tempo and producing a contrapuntal comment at the same time. Another militaristic reference, “Coup d’Etat” featuring jumping freebop keyboard cadenzas, as the drummer taps out the same sort of shuffle he would have given Junior Mance. Finally the piece opens up into a two-handed flourish of impressionistic patterning.

“In the Balance”, with Parker on African kora, is calmer, with the bassist producing finger-picked glissandi to match Burrell’s higher pitched, legato arpeggios. The drummer is barely heard, however. He’s not present at all on “Cryin’ Out Loud”, where the bassman’s whimpering bowed notes from his upper partials move the mood from melancholy to produce a threnody. Parker’s bee-buzzing arco presages an oppressive countermotif from the pianist, who methodically works his way down the scale to the bottom.

If Burrell was part of the re-imagining of the piano starting in the 1960s, Clark, born in 1950 and raised in Los Angeles, doesn’t see anything wrong with the conventional piano trio set up. Interestingly enough, he too recorded a couple of CDs with Murray, who he knows through fellow Angelo, cornetist Butch Morris.

Unlike those two and everyone on Burrell’s CD, Clark is content to play by the rules. All his tunes have a definite beginning, middle and end, and there are times where its too obvious exactly what’s going to fall where.

At the same time there’s still plenty of life in those forms, as he demonstrates on “Another Blues”, “Sean” and his best-known composition, “A Letter To South Africa”.

Unrolling with atmospheric, late night jazz club expansiveness, the first is perfectly paced all the way up to the turnaround. Clark performs as if he’s a combination of Bill Evans and Red Garland with tingling arpeggios falling from his fingers. Meanwhile Glerum take a stolid solo that could have come from Ron Carter.

“Sean”, on the other hand, is built on a moving ostinato, making it resemble a cop show theme. Swinging from the get go, it features Bennink leaning into the backbeat and Glerum hitting a groove that threatens to accelerate from walking to slapping. The most modernistic touches come when the pianist plays a high intensity countermotif.

“South Africa” was first recorded in 1987 with Glerum, pioneering New Thinger John Tchicai on tenor saxophone, Dutch cellist Ernst Reijseger and South African-in-exile Louis Moholo on drums. Perhaps to point out its classic status -- or to compensate for the missing cello -- it’s really the only time Glerum takes an extended arco solo. With the pianist contributing tinkling arpeggios and a modal McCoy-Tyner-meets-Kirk Lightsey tones, the three give it an almost pop song lilt.

Clark’s versatility serves him well in other situations. On “Duped”, another deep- dish, but obviously nightclub-style blues, he creates the sort of descending runs you would expect more from a country bluesman like Otis Spann than a citified Mance. A finger-popper featuring repeated note clusters and sneaky jumps over the keyboard, it shows off Glerum again as he keeps lagging the beat without breaking his time-keeping role. Other times Clark’s pianisms suggest Oscar Peterson, Herbie Nichols and Bud Powell.

Those familiar with the Dutch scene will wonder how well the usually boisterous Bennink is kept under wraps. Sticking mostly to brushes he complements Clark rather than deploying the anarchistic percussion bombs he often lobs at other pianists. Bass drum thumps and ratamacues are kept to a minimum, as are his usual output cymbal lashes and rim shots. Only on “Spooky Conversations” does he indulge in a few breaks characterized by hearty swinging paradiddles and bounces that almost knock the skin off the drum tops. But this is excessively polite for Bennink.

Should piano trio jazz be your thing, than the Clark three will no doubt interest you. But if you’re yearning for a superior example of a master’s art seek out EXPANSION as quickly as possible.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Expansion: 1. Expansion 2. Double Heartbeat 3. Cryin’ Out Loud 4. They Say It’s Wonderful 5. About Face 6. In the Balance* 7. Coup d’Etat

Personnel: Expansion: Dave Burrell (piano); William Parker (bass and kora*); Andrew Cyrille (drums)

Track Listing: Home: 1. Home Safely (& Peacefully) 2. Miss T 3. Ballad of Jake Spoon 4. Espace Theatral 5. Another Blues 6. Sean 7. Sophia 8. Duped 9. Spooky Conversations 10. Scratched 11. Marseille 12. Letter to South Africa

Personnel: Home: Curtis Clark (piano); Ernst Glerum (bass); Han Bennink (drums)

October 11, 2004

CECIL TAYLOR

Incarnation
FMP CD 123

Sailing past his 75th birthday in March, pianist Cecil Taylor seems to have no trouble maintaining the creativity that has served him well since his first recording date almost a half-century ago.

How does the emphatic improviser manage to keep creative many years past when most musicians -- even Louis Armstrong, his only challenger for transformation of 20th century music -- fall into repetition and often self-parody? Very simply Taylor is always concerned with making it new. This can involved new compositions, new improvisations, new settings, or new combinations of musicians.

Take this CD recorded in Berlin in 1999, when the pianist was a mere stripling of 70. Not only are there three new instant compositions on show, but the backing trio is made up of three instrumentalists who had never played with Taylor as a unit. Designated as special guest, immutable Andrew Cyrille was the percussionist in the Cecil Taylor Unit from 1964 to 1975 and brings the same offhanded power here as he did then. Expatriate American cellist Tristan Honsinger, a linchpin of Amsterdam’s ICP Orchestra, has played and recorded with Taylor before, most notably in a 1988 trio session with British saxist Evan Parker. His staccato timing, shattering feints and spiccato lines wrap soloist and accompanist functions together into an atonal package.

Wildcard here is Surinamian-Dutch guitarist Franky Douglas, recording -- but not playing -- with the pianist for the first time. Someone whose strings are as apt to reverberate with tones that reflect power-rock as Free Jazz outer space cadences, his remarkable six-string effects add another hue to Taylor’s palate. It’s worth noting in passing that the pianist’s recorded bands have never before included a guitarist.

Playing for more than 77 minutes, the Taylor four strut their stuff without a bit of filler. However, there are points when the rolling rage of the pianist’s 10-fingered contrasting dynamics -- and sound poetry cries -- provide a certain atonal familiarity to the tracks. Yet the unexpected still lurks in nearly every bar line.

With Douglas providing distorted rhythmic echoes and uncommon, Ur-electric vibrating licks -- is this the Latin blues à la Curaçao? -- Cyrille moves from steamrolling, on-the-beat percussiveness to gentler tympani pitches. Meanwhile the cellist double and triple stops distinct lines -- one minute following Tayor with legato sweeps that could find a home in a hip concert hall, the next minute playing off the rhythmic throb of the other two with worrying ponticello multiphonics that might amaze open-minded serialists.

When he gathers full steam, Taylor seems to slough off his septuagenarian ranking to exhibit once again the flailing force for which his high intensity playing has long been noted. But as benefits a man who has been at it so long -- and a senior citizen to boot --there are disciplined passages of intense, lyrical beauty as well here.

As amazing as it seems to repeatedly have to write it, there’s very little inconsistency in Cecil Taylor sessions, and this CD is no exception to their overall high standing. With a new set of helpmates he’s turned out yet another premium disc.

With accelerating technique and imagination seemingly intensifying as he ages, just imagine how the recorded results of CDs done in his 75th year will sound.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. Focus 2. Carnation 3. Cartouche

Personnel: Cecil Taylor (piano, voice); Franky Douglas (guitar, voice); Tristan Honsinger (cello); Andrew Cyrille (drums, tympani)

May 10, 2004

RICH HALLEY

Objects
Louie 025

TRIO 3
Open Ideas
Palmetto PM 2082

Making any kind of supposition about albums of improvised music is always dangerous, precisely because you’re dealing with sounds created on the spot. So the casual listener, seeing that one CD here features three of jazz’s most accomplished sonic explorers, while the other was created by a trio of West Coast journeymen, may expect a lot more from Trio3 than Rich Halley’s crew.

In fact, the music produced by reedist Rich Halley, the pride of Portland (Oregon) and his band mates, bassist Clyde Reed and drummer Dave Storrs, has just as much -- and in many cases more -- intensity than the session featuring alto saxophonist Oliver Lake, bassist Reggie Workman and drummer Andrew Cyrille. Not that both don’t offer up some good music. It’s just that for a variety of reasons, the Left Coasters seem to have a slight edge.

For a start, Lake, Workman and Cyrille are so busy with a myriad of other projects that they don’t get to tour and record often enough as Trio3. Taking the time to schedule a recording session for men who are leaders, featured sidefolk in other bands and also teach, can be a scheduling conundrum. At least OPEN IDEAS offers up hearty unhypenated jazz, unlike some other of the three’s individual projects that have been too precious in the bassist’s case; too diffuse in the saxophonist’s; and too few-and-far-between in the drummer’s.

As a matter of fact, it’s Cyrille whose combination of strength and subtly is most remarkable here. Lake, whose playing, when it isn’t standard bebop, surprisingly sounds like a mirror image of Eric Dolphy’s, seems a bit too complacent here, almost as if he was Sonny Stitt making one more horn-and-rhythm LP. As for Workman, his performance, while steady and sturdy, often sounds no more than Workman-like -- pun very much intended.

What many fans forget is how conventional the three can be. After all, Cyrille jobbed with pianists Junior Mance and Mary Lou Williams and saxist Coleman Hawkins before he joined visionary pianist Cecil Taylor’s group; Workman’s employers included pianist Red Garland and flautist Herbie Mann as well as John Coltrane; and Lake’s Jump Up and steel drum bands have come a lot closer to pop music then the Human Arts Ensemble and the World Saxophone Quartet.

On the other hand, OBJECTS was recorded in drummer Dave Storrs own studio the morning-after-the-night-before when the three musicians played one of their every-six-weeks club dates in Portland. They can’t do so more often. Halley, who trained as a field biologist, also works as a computer programmer and plays with other bands; Storrs has his studio, plus membership in at least half a dozen other musical projects; and Reed’s “slave” is as an economics professor at a university in Vancouver, B.C.

Of course luck has to be taken into consideration as well. All the energy in the world can’t translate into good music if the inspiration isn’t there. It was, and Halley, who wrote all the compositions here but one, seems to blossom in the company of Reed and Storrs, with the thrust of his improvisations more noteworthy than how he plays with other bands like the more diffuse The Lizard Brothers. The three also had time to stretch out with the shortest original almost nine minutes and the longest almost 16 minutes.

Most impressive on tenor saxophone, Halley has a flinty tone, seemingly influenced by the Sonny Rollins of the 1950s, alive with knife-sharp thrusts, sometimes in single notes, sometimes in altissimo clusters. You can hear this on “Grey Stones”, where the occasional Albert Ayler-like split tone intrudes as well. He never loses sight of the melody, though, no matter how staccato his delivery. Additionally, before the piece ends with a quote from Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, Reed has shown that he can walk with the best of them and Storrs has introduced snare slides and cymbal pops. Frilly ornamentation characterizes Halley’s short reading of “Over The Rainbow”, though, which still comes out pretty straight except for some double timing as the end.

Like Rollins, Halley’s less effective on the soprano saxophone. At least he stays away from legato smooth jazz mush, but his pitch has a bit of a burr in it and many times it comes out with a tone that sounds midway between that of a musette and of someone with a blocked nose. Storrs is busiest on the tunes that feature the straight horn, tinkling triangles, ringing bells, shimmering cymbals, tapping on the high hat with brushes and introducing so-called “little instruments”, which Halley sometimes toys with as well. Reed’s occasional upfront notes show the economy in his accompaniment. And after the tempo increases on “Back to the 400 Club”, doesn’t the tiniest snatch of “A Love Supreme” get played?

With its many tempo changes the almost-16 minute “Thickets/Pavement”, which evokes both rural and urban life, is obviously meant to be the core of the CD. Certainly Storrs on percussion like agogo (sic) and dejeme, plus falsetto vocal interjections, makes his presence felt, while Halley’s wood flute solos are one part Rahsaan Roland Kirk and one part blowing a raspberry. Reed even makes one believe he’s stroking an ethnic stringed instrument not his bass. But the real blood-stirring parts appear when Halley sticks to his tenor and stops and starts the melody long enough to showcase some repeated note patterns, heartfelt honks and dirty smears. He’s usually in comfy mid-range when he does this too.

Mid-range is also the adjective that one could select for Trio3. In fact, only Cyrille, both as a writer and player, seems to rise to the occasion. For a start, it’s likely him who does the sly, Jon Hendricks-like, rapping vocal on “Casino”, a piece of jive that starts off the date. Humorously enumerating the pitfalls of gambling, the piece features the bass and drums loping along with Lake’s alto break out of the Hank Crawford sophisticated-funk school. With its composer banging the cowbell, “Casino” even has a “duh, duh, duh, duuuh” ending which is as old as vaudeville.

Cyrille’s other composition, “5-4-3-2”, is a Latinesque number with a speedy unison theme played by all three musicians. Secure in the catbird seat, it’s Cyrille rhythm that guides the improvisations, with Lake especially, whether he’s smearing notes in the air or honking at the bottom of his sax, returning to the theme for nourishment after each solo foray.

Even though it’s Cyrille who spots a chapeau in the band picture, it’s also the alto man who appears to be trying on various hats during the course of the nine tunes here. On “Hooray for Herbie”, written by Dolphy’s old associate Mal Waldron, Lake’s running scads of notes up the scale is identical to one of Dolphy’s pet licks, as is his jagged timbre and skittering asides. Bass work is stolid, while it only takes a few flams and rolls for the drummer to show that he can play harder without getting louder.

Workman’s straightahead “Y2 Chaos” truthfully doesn’t sound any more -- or less -- chaotic than the other tunes. But just before its conclusion as the band members are trading fours, Lake’s tone morphs from irregular Dolphy-like yelps to smooth, effortless swing à la Johnny Hodges.

“Prophet’s Path”, another of the bassist’s compositions, is an atmospheric ballad introduced by pensive arco bass. Then, as Lake downshifts into the piece’s core, the growls he produces perfectly match Workman’s methodical, lower-register pizzicato and brush work from Cyrille that resembles the scraping sound of a hoofer’s sand dance. Later, the concluding section of the longest piece on the CD is presaged by some ride cymbal accents and the sort of intense, flamenco pizzicato sound Workman used on “Olé”, during his tenure with Coltrane -- who may very well be the prophet of the title.

Obviously, especially for the many who count themselves fans of any one of Trio3’s members, there are many interesting parts to this disc, both individually and from the group. It’s certainly worth investigating. But the perception and inspiration of Halley’s three is more impressive.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Objects: 1. Objects 2. The Search 3. Grey Stones 4. Back to the 400 Club 5. Over the Rainbow 6. Thickets/Pavement

Personnel: Objects: Rich Halley (tenor and soprano saxophones, wood flute, percussion); Clyde Reed (bass); Dave Storrs (drums, percussion, vocals)

Track Listing: Open: 1. Casino 2. Hooray For Herbie 3. Open Ideas 4. Y2 Chaos 5. Prophet’s Path 6. Valley Sketch 7. Willow Song 8. 5-4-3-2 9. Dance 2

Personnel: Open: Oliver Lake (alto saxophone); Reggie Workman (bass); Andrew Cyrille (drums)

August 5, 2002