Albert Van Veenendaal

Minimal Damage
Evil Rabbit ERR 13

More than four centuries after the invention of the piano-forte, new possibilities for its role as a solo instrument continue to exist. This trio of discs demonstrates that with a caveat: As the 21st Century deepens, it’s evident that the most popular innovation involves preparing the strings and treating the box so that the piano becomes as much a percussion instrument as a stringed one.

Certainly that’s how Amsterdam-based Albert Van Veenendaal operates on the 16 improvisations that make up Minimal Damage. Someone interested in the epic and cinematic qualities of improvisation – note the track titles – he has worked with writers, painters, actors and dancers as well as fellow musicians such as pianist Fabrizio Puglisi, bassist Meinrad Kneer and percussionist Yonga Sun. Parisian Benoît Delbecq on the other hand, who plays a 92-key Bosendorfer on Circles and Calligrams, moves between the instrument’s conventional timbres and the polyrhythms available from preparing the instrument. Conversant with modern notated as well as improvisational strategies, he has frequently recorded with the likes of drummer Steve Argüelles and bassist Hubert Dupont plus a duo piano disc with Andy Milne. Least-known of the three keyboardists is Seoul-based Park Chan Soo, who by necessity and as the result of running his own house concerts, has since 2002 has created a unique take on conventional and prepared piano, distinctively demonstrated on Infinite Finitude. Over the years Park, who is also music director for the Kim Young-hee MUT dance company, has played with international improvisers such as saxophonist Alfred 23 Harth and pianist/violinist Helmut Bieler-Wendt.

Most wedded to the possibilities of the prepared piano, Van Veenendaal presents a hodge-podge of intonation and resonations that could as easily arise from the thumbtack-altered hammers of a honky-tonk piano or from a souped-up clavichord abrasively rasping and reverberating in a fashion scarcely imagined in earlier centuries. High-frequency coloration mixed with chordal percussiveness on “Mechanic Mushroom” for instance has resonations that recall a harpsichord’s plucking feathers. “The Spy and the Vampire” on the other hand develops with funk-like rhythms that are further bifurcated among right-handed stride echoes, near bottleneck guitar-like slides and what could be an alarm clock ringing in the background.

Elsewhere effects on pieces such as “Sea Monkeys” encompass vamps that suggest there are two pianists in the studio: one playing a clavichord whose interchangeable runs create an underlying beat; and the other plucking string timbres at a tempo that moves from presto to staccatissimo that could come from a kalimba. Then there’s “Slow Boat”, which despite being taken adagio, opens up the keyboard expression with positioned plucks and stretched vibrations that rapidly succeed one another, culminating in centred note cascades.

Other scenes set in this aural cinemascope collection encompass staccato, fortissimo and dramatic overtones; hurdy-gurdy-like multiphonics; buzzes and stops possibly produced by knives or bars dragged along the strings; and almost never-ending syncopated and agitato tones that play up the wooden quality of the capotes, soundboard, back frame and action. Appended at least subliminally to these tropes are the sonically brutal mechanized concepts of the Futurists.

Moving even further into the future with contemporary techniques is Delbecq’s CD, crafted following a month-long residency at Civitella Ranieri Centre near Perugia. One instance is a remix by sound artist Nicolas Becker of “Mille Nandie”, and earlier composition by the pianist. Another is “A Lack of Dreams” where Delbecq mixes staccato secondary line and skipping andante changes. “BioBeat” mixes an angular Monk-like rhythm on top plus wood-clanking internal string strums with sharp peal point that becomes infectious at the turnaround.

The larger-than-usual keyboard exposes additional between-the-key timbres as well as intonation from beneath the fallback. Together they multiply his ability to blend advanced Jazz piano strategies with those inherited from the so-called classical avant-garde plus West African inflected grooves and polyphony. Like Van Veenendaal at points, the contrasting dynamics of cascading chords and woody strokes on “Ando” make it appear as if two pianos are in play. In contrast Delbecq’s tremolo treatment of “Fireflies” references a Europeanized version of the Blues that moves without every touching Soul or Swing. Instead the narrative mixes clipped legato measures and heavily syncopated passing chords and note clusters.

Even more removed from western influences, except by osmosis, is Park, whose dramatic improvisations use protracted pauses and unconventional strategies to display his ideas. By the same token, alternating kinetic and staccato runs, tremolo pacing or nearly inaudible key palming follow earlier antecedents from both eastern and west.ern musics.

For example “Take #4” works its way from repetitive low-frequency bass notes to a variant of triple reverb so that the bottom board and capotes ring with heavy-handed pressure. As this orchestral-styled coloration intensifies, Park exposes Cecil Taylor-like note cascades, adding pedal-point pressure and intense staccato timbres. By the finale when these gouts of sound diminish to isolated clanging notes, a sonic afterimage of swelling piano tones remains.

Other tracks such as “Take #8” and “Take #5” present other challenges. On the latter for example, before the reductionist performance disappears, largo attributes have been exposed. Following a single foot stomp, ringing piano chords vibrate for several seconds before being choked off, while a recital-like overlay advances one or two notes at a time with pregnant pauses left for suitable ringing resonations. The former tune is played out like a ball of wool, as solitary fortissimo timbres are worried for many seconds until kinetic jumps introduce a variant consisting of high-frequency chording from one hand and key clipping from the other. Nearly two minutes of silence presages a coda of constantly plucked key tremolos.

Without taking refuge in low-key impressionism or gratuitous beat-milking, each of these pianists has evolved an individual take on unaccompanied piano playing. Each one is also worth investigating.

--Ken Waxman

Track Listing: Circles; 1. Circles and Calligrams 2. Ando 3. Meanwhile 4. A Lack of Dreams 5. Alpha 6. Flakes 7. BioBeat 8. Le Sixième Saut 9. Fireflies 10. Mille Nandie Remix

Personnel: Circles: Benoît Delbecq (prepared piano)

Track Listing: Minimal: 1. The Spy and the Vampire 2. Tear Dance; 3. Frog Song 4. Mechanic Mushroom 5. Pirouetteke 6. Daily Values 7. Sea Monkeys 8. Minimal Damage 9. Old Frogs 10. Histoire Pneumatique 11. Whales 12. Goodbye Pork Pie Hat 13. Dark Days & the Moon 14. Transition 15. Zen Gardening 16. Slow Boat

Personnel: Minimal: Albert Van Veenendaal (prepared piano)

Track Listing: Infinite: 1. Take #1 2. Take #2 3. Take #3 4. Take #4 5. Take #5 6. Take #6 7. Take #7 8. Take #8

Personnel: Infinite: Park Chang Soo (prepared piano)

April 18, 2011

TRAVELLING LIGHT PIANO TRIO

Terra Firma
TRYtone TT559-031

Three grand pianos: no waiting could be the slogan attached to this CD from the Netherlands. It certainly displays all that can be accomplished when three generations of keyboardists combine their skills on the triple 88s – both acoustic and prepared.

While pianistically formidable, the 12 tracks sometimes give the impression of being more about the instrument and its resultant sounds than improvised music, however. The hope is that there would be the sort of sparks struck the way earlier all- piano groups such as the Pete Johnson-Albert Ammons-Meade Lux Lewis match-up or the Dick Hyman-Jay McShann-Dick Wellstood jam exhibited. But, although that happens from time to time, the results often drift closer to what you’d expect to hear from a trio made up of Ferrante & Teicher & Roger Williams.

Nearing 50, project organizer Albert van Veenendaal is a composer, arranger and producer who won a Dutch jazz competition in the early 1980s. Today he works with his own bands, plus world and classical musicians, theatre and dance companies and teaches. Travelling Light was initially organized as a four piano project, with van Veenendaal, Rob van den Broeck, Cor Fuhler and Sylvie Courvoisier, the last two of whom have recorded extensively as improvisers.

TERRA FIRMA however features Belgian pianist Jozef Dumoulin, a classical keyboardist who studied jazz, plus third member, Niko Langenhuijsen, who from the back-of-his head picture in the booklet – there are no shots of the performers’ faces – looks to be older than van Veenendaal – thus the three generation mixture. Someone who also teaches at a Dutch conservatory, Langenhuijsen has recorded jazz since the 1970s – around when Dumoulin was born – as well as with a vocalist on a program dedicated to Spanish poet Frederico Garcia Lorca.

This heavy dose of academe weakens many of many of the tunes, composed by all three plus a couple of ringers. Throughout performance strategies reference stately classical recitals, clanking John Cage-like piano preparations and surface swing. With one pianist usually limning the theme and the other two ornamenting it, a typical track may include the clatter of items placed between or on the internal strings, funky Ramsey Lewis-like double keyboard licks and flashing, high-pitched octaves. One barely one-minute tune called “Slick” is merely an assembly line of glissandi.

Additionally, some of the shorter tunes seem to swell to impressionism without ever reaching proper rhythmic interludes – despite vibrating soundboard scrapes and slides. Imagine a Duke Ellington ballad turned lachrymose through the addition of solemn formalism.

More satisfying are two penultimate sketches by others plus the van Veenendaal-penned title track and “Mascarpone”. With echoes of Lennie Tristanto’s “Turkish Mambo”, “Terra Firma” consists of metronomic cross-patterning arpeggios from all concerned that midway through interject impressionistic harmonies and contrasting stride piano dynamics. The cascading chords take various forms as they range over the keys, leading to a finale of sped-up tempos and upward flourishes.

Much like a cabaletta or other European light-hearted fare, “Mascarpone” includes unusual effects such as emphasized octave jumps, slithers down the scale and in the bridge and recapping of the bouncy melody for a finale. “Radar” sound as if all three have been transformed into triplet McCoy Tyners, flashing modal chord sequences; while “Loops for Piano Part 2” voices contrasting andante tones among the trio with the end result an odd admixture of James P. Johnson and Conlon Nancarrow.

Besides setting aside some of the trio’s academic experiences exhibited here, it’s possible this CD may have been more impressive if van Veenendaal had traveled even lighter – on his own.

-- Ken Waxman

Track Listing: 1. De Waan de Dag (The Delusion of the Day) 2. Gazz 3. Abajo 4,. Iris 5. Slick 6. Terra Firma 7. It’s a Quarter to One Four Times a Day 8. Mascarpone 9. Wetlands 10. Radar 11. Loops for Piano 2 12. Harmonie

Personnel: Albert van Veenendaal, Niko Langenhuijsen and Joseph Dumoulin(acoustic and prepared pianos)

May 29, 2006

Albert van Veenendaal & Esmée Olthuis

Stripes & Spikes & Strikes
TRYtone

Nils Wogram & Simon Nabatov
The Move
Between the lines

By Ken Waxman
January 30, 2006

Recorded duos between one horn player and one pianist have been celebrated since Earl Hines’ and Louis Armstrong’s “Weather Bird” in 1928. But the key to their influence is making sure that the orchestral qualities of the keyboard don’t overpower the contributions of horn players, who, after all, can only rely on a combination of breath, valves or keys.

Comparing a recent CD by alto saxophonist Esmée Olthuis and pianist Albert van Veenendaal of the Netherlands with one by German trombonist Nils Wogram and Russian-American pianist Simon Nabatov underscores the pitfalls involved. While both are commendable efforts, Wogram’s and Nabatov’s strategies more easily come to fruition than Olthuis’ and van Veenendaal’s, so that the 71 minutes of The Move appear more enjoyably shorter than the touch over 59 minutes that Stripes & Spikes & Strikes takes to revolve.

One of the causes may be concentration of effort. Stripes & Spikes & Strikes consists of 17 sound wedges, varying in length from a maximum of just under 8½-minutes to a minimum of 36 seconds, with most in the two- to three-minute range. Conversely, there are only seven selections on The Move, with most longer than 10 minutes. Duration doesn’t necessarily create great improv, but it usually gives players sufficient time to develop their ideas.

Although van Veenendaal relies on variety of techniques and preparations to expand his keyboard palate, while Nabatov’s standard technique is more expansive – as could be expected from someone who began playing piano at the age of three – there’s no complaint with the dexterity of either. Regrettably though, it’s evident that Wogram is more inventive with his three valves and a slide than Olthuis is with her many keys. Perhaps her lyrical style, influenced by non-Western musics and displayed in the Drumless Dog trio and the Tetzepi bigtet, demands more concentrated backing then just a piano can supply. For his part Wogram, who was a prize winner before he was 20 – he’s 33 now – is comfortable playing solo, in duo with fellow German trombonist Konrad Bauer, with a variety of bands, including several of his own, Nabatov’s quartet and Swiss drummer Lucas Niggli’s Zoom. He also teaches at the Lucerne music conservatory.

A teacher, workshop leader and multidisciplinary festival organizer, van Veenendaal composes for theatre and dance companies, works in many aggregations including an exceptional piano trio and describes his music as “pictorial” because of its cinematic character. Unfortunately it would seem that there are no feature films on this CD, merely short subjects, almost exclusively at moderato tempo.

For instance “Woodstock’s Birthday Party” – either written to honor the rock festival or the bird in the Peanuts comic strip – is no more than three minutes of the pianist strumming sharp chords as if he’s playing a dobro, with the reedist expelling timbres that could come from a harmonica fighting a bad cold. Another of her tunes, “Experimental Dips in the Surf (For Dick)”, has a title that’s nearly lengthier than the track itself. It turns out to be a slight, romantic interlude of persuasive Paul Desmond-like alto lines sailing over high frequency piano chording. Even van Veenendaal’s compositions such as “Terra Firma” evolve into little more than a unison contrapuntal invention, a speedy intermezzo with silent movie accompaniment chords from the pianist and repeated, cascading slurs from Olthuis.

Ricocheting from these extremities, Olthuis is either lyrically posturing, with orotund and rotund arpeggios or busy transforming a multiplicity of rhythmic split tones and staccato triple-tonguing into jagged lines. Responding in part, the pianist stops and hits his strings at the centre node for additional vibrations, uses tool pressure to add percussive timbres, and sometimes responds to the altoist’s sputtering treble tones with what sounds like flapping cardboard manipulated among the strings.

Only a couple of times is there sufficient scope to see what could have developed between the two players, and surprisingly, both are Olthuis lines. “Esmita” for instance, builds on an upsurge of stately undulating chords from van Veenendaal that run into snorting glissandi runs and longer circular slurs from the saxophonist. The final variation expands into a dense, stretched out phrase repeatedly sounded as a climax.

‘Yeast” matches metronomic chords from the piano with growling, bass clef irregular vibrations. Later, tough, portamento slides outline a well-spaced counter melody, with Olthuis shrilling a curt postlude.

Boasting ample space on their CD, Wogram and Nabatov still only involve themselves in experimental techniques if this advances the dialogues. Considering the pianist can turn from chamber music-like pauses and layering to triple harmonic, almost boogie-woogie poundings in an instance, and the boneman’s stylistic command is on the same level, these extensions slip seamlessly, into the improvisations. Compare this to the saxophone-piano duo on the other CD, which waves a metaphoric flag whenever either departs from the expected.

Even the less-than-seven minute, Wogram-composed title tune moves from tarantella-like splattered syncopation from Nabatov at the top, to a percussive Spanish tinge mid-way through, as Wogram maneuvers his purring tones to a Lawrence Brown-like muted malleability, eventually combining with the pianist for a recap of the head. Here and other places both performers cycle through several implications, styles and genres without abandoning the kernel of the extended improvisation.

Nabatov’s nearly-17-minute “Herbie and Pierre”, for instance, extends this aural character acting to near feature film length as both players dip in and out of various musical persona. Sonata-like, feathery keyboard voicing set up the exposition until it slows down to Ur-romantic basso portamento. Wogram’s entry is delayed until more than one-third of the piece has sounded, and then his harsh braying expands into double counterpoint as he meets the pianist’s hard chording. Elaborating a bluesy line with plenty of wah wahs and staccato phrases, his near-tailgate impressionism forces Nabatov first to harder pummeling, then to gentle variation on the initial theme. Reaching a rapprochement with the trombonist’s trilling grace notes for the finale, three faux Dixieland staccato versions of the concluding phrase – separated by pauses – are trotted out as a coda.

Elsewhere the unfolding cooperation moves through buzzes and trills from Wogram and layered octaves and counterpoint from Nabatov. Just as the trombonist seems to scrape emphasized textures as much from his lungs as his lips and throat, the pianist’s keyboard command is such that the mental compartments that open to bring forward allusions to, say, Ragtime, show tunes and impressionism within a few bars of one another, proceed through his fingers so speedily that they quickly disappear, rather than being emphasized.

Craft masters Wogram and Nabatov have created one of the most satisfy duo sessions in a while with The Move. As for Stripes & Spikes & Strikes, differently configured CDs have confirmed van Veenendaal’s talents as one would hope Olthuis’ other outings feature her strengths as well. Here’s hoping that this unsatisfying date was just a temporary misstep.

January 30, 2006