December
Early in the program Grace Hughes sang “Were You There on
that Christmas Night?” When music
director Mark Harvey announced the work his tongue slipped. He used the word “Morn” rather than
“Night.” As Grace finished singing the
first line she chose to use Mark’s “Morn” but astutely retained the original
rhyme with “Night” at the end of the second line. It was all handled so sure-footedly that I
doubt many in attendance noticed the sleight of tongue. The comfortable “footwork” of the vocalist
was indicative of the preparedness and in-the-moment skills of the entire
Aardvark Jazz Orchestra--Arni Cheatham, Peter Bloom, Phil Scarff, Chris
Rakowski, Dan Zupan, KC Dunbar, Jeanne Snodgrass, Bob Pilkington, Jay Kaiser,
Jeff Marsanskis, Bill Lowe, Richard Nelson, John Funkhouser, Harry Wellott,
Grace Hughes, and Mark Harvey. The
performance was the band’s 46th annual Christmas Concert. Imagine that--a jazz-rooted Christmas event
lasting so many decades. And bringing
out so many fans year after year, some obviously knowing little about jazz but
having a ball anyway. Along with a
variety of Christmas music both familiar and less well known the orchestra
performed three Mark Harvey works to close out the evening. The Prophet was written for Kip
Tiernan twenty years ago in celebration of Rosie’s Place (which is perhaps the
best known of several civil rights action groups founded by Tiernan). In fact the evening was a Christmas message
about the life of the remarkable activist and a fund-raiser for the Poor
Peoples United Fund, another important organization founded by Kip Tiernan to
battle homelessness and poverty. Then
the orchestra presented Healers
of the Universe, the first complete, full-orchestra performance
of the work, a celebration of the life of Kip Tiernan. Mark Harvey’s raucous Benedictus closed out the
evening. Audience enthusiasm was enough
to warrant an “out of control” version of “Jingle Bells.” There was a lot of music 12/8 at Emmanuel
Church in Boston ,
and there were a lot of highlights.
Among my favorite moments was the alto sax work of Arni Cheatham in
solos and support of the fine singing of Grace Hughes in “The Cradle of
Bethlehem.” The home run
composition/arrangement was Mark Harvey’s Healers
of the Universe, the best writing of the evening inspiring the
orchestra’s best section work and improvisations of the night. Applause.
If you would like to know more about the profound work of Kip Tiernan,
you might start online here…
For some band members and some audience members it was the last Explorers gig of 2018. So there was a bit of holiday cheer in the air, in spite of the crumbling political and economic situation. It would be different if Republicans were driven by a moral core and Democrats had brains. But, except for a few international decisions, it is apparent that
Once again we find ourselves facing continuing news about how wonderful software-driven technology is. What many of us curmudgeons have feared seems to be true. There is no “I told you so” factor here. Believe me, I would prefer to be wrong. Children spending more than two hours per day looking at screens exhibit significant negative characteristics. Not only that. Two-thirds of
It was the eve before Christmas Eve and most people were
traveling or preparing or partying.
Nevertheless, a good-sized crowd of jazz fans (including females) showed
up to see and hear the Joe Hunt Quintet.
No doubt a major attraction was “the regulars”--Joe, Yuka Hamano Hunt,
and Keala Kaumehiewa. But this time
there was a bonus, visitors John Eckert and Mark Pinto. Both had done a bit of traveling. Mark lives in Stoneham but he had been in New Hampshire since 10 a.m. rehearsing and eventually performing
there with a big band (perhaps offering echoes of his many gigs with Herb
Pomeroy). He had come directly from that
gig and was--even by his own account--exhausted. John traveled farther. He was in town from New York visiting relatives. There was virtually no conventional rehearsal
time. “All our rehearsals were via
email,” Joe announced. That’s how they
decided the set list, keys, and other music matters. As announced 12/23 at the Lily Pad, the
evening was a celebration of the joys of bebop.
And the music performed--including everything from “Quasimodo” to “Four”
to “It Never Entered My Mind”--could be the basis of an ideal Bebop
Fakebook. The rhythm section was
its usual peerless self. John with both
trumpet and flugelhorn (showing greater facility on the former) nailed the
charts and offered thoughtful creativity in his well-received solos. Mark with alto sax fooled the god Hypnos,
either that or he carried out some of the most exhilarating sleep walking I’ve
witnessed in solos or anywhere else. In
other words, it was a fine evening of music, bebop music. And it was the perfect bebop audience with foot-tapping
and seat-dancing throughout the room…
Completely improvised solo performance is one of the most
daunting presentations a musician can pursue.
In addition to a variety of special challenges involved in the
presentation, musicians (and certainly fans) cannot understand the extent of
the creative burden until one has experienced fully the first solo gig. It is amazing how fast one’s brilliant ideas
come and go, leaving one naked on the bandstand. More than once I have heard a musician recall
the first improvised solo set. The
recollection goes something like, “I had just offered everything I had to
say. I was empty, ready to take a
bow. I looked at my watch and realized
that I had been playing for ten minutes.”
Once a musician goes through that nightmare, he or she has a much more
realistic understanding of what a full solo set of completely improvised music
entails. As ready as a musician might
be, the prospect remains daunting. But
apparently not for Curt Newton. Warm,
ebullient, and cool as a cuke before the gig 12/11, Curt was about to take on his
second completely improvised solo performance in less than a year. In both cases he was wise enough to set
himself up at intimate performance spaces, earlier at MIT Chapel and now at
Café Fixe in Brookline . Apparently the word got out. All seats were taken, and there were some
fans standing and others sitting on the floor.
A good audience. The only sounds
made during the set of music came from the drum kit and accessories. It is difficult to try to suggest the
sequence of events at a percussion concert in which even the “familiar” is
unfamiliar and there are no clichés. The
setup was fairly conventional--bass drum, snare, two toms, hi-hat, and
cymbals. He used a mallet, sticks, a brush,
hands, and a variety of accoutrements--toys, rags, and metal bowls among them. There are many ways in which a series of solo
improvisations may be perceived. In this
case I heard Curt’s performance to a great extent as biographical. Yes, I know that any improvised solo is a
type of statement of “who I am.” But
this night I heard--however flawed my hearing may be--a biographical
narrative. Here was a story for all to
see and hear--everything from Curt’s wonderful “battle” via stick and bare hand
with a rag that wanted to dance and then to his dissertation using small bowls
and other metal objects that came across as a “thank you” to Paul Lovens
without in any way mimicking the German master.
“Look what I’ve taken from you,” Curt seemed to say, “to help me become
me.” Of course, Curt’s story is larger
than all that. There was much more to
the narrative, often via startling technique--but technique never was the
point. After such a compelling sonic
journey the audience responded enthusiastically. An encore?
Curt responded with his drum transcription of a piece composed by Ornette
Coleman. He reached back to “Some
Other,” a 1960 recording finally released in the 1970s on To Whom Who Keeps a Record. Curt said he chose that composition because
he wanted to evoke “some other place and time,” when the world would be a
better home. All of us shared a special
hour, and Curt sent us out the door with hope.
Quite a fine gig…
By now most people
are aware of the fact that the national debt is very large and growing. Instead of compromising on the most recent
budget (you know, that masterful process in which neither side gets all of what
it wants and the citizens benefit), the two parties decided not to do much
haggling. The result is that both sides
got what they wanted, and the American public lost. The tax burden was exacerbated by a tax bill
that gave people in the bottom 80% of the economy virtually meaningless tax
breaks but huge tax breaks to the top 20% economically (of course, including
almost everyone in Congress) and big business.
For example, according to an H&R Block handout regarding the
new tax law, a single fictitious worker named Jessica making $29,350 annually
in 2017 and 2018, would get a tax break resulting in her paying
$604.00 less in Federal taxes in 2018.
That works out to slightly less than $1.66 per day. On the positive side, I do not believe there
is a tax stipulation that Jessica has to spend her tax break in more than one
place. On the other hand, if Jessica
were in the top 20% income bracket (not even near the top of that bracket;
let’s say a half million dollars annual income) she would have made out a
little bit better on her taxes. Our
better off fictitious worker named Jessica making $500,000 annually in 2017 and
2018, would get a tax break resulting in her paying $58,927.85 less in Federal
taxes in 2018. Hey, that tax break is
significantly better than the less well off Jessica’s total annual income, in
fact slightly more than double the non-rich Jessica’s annual gross income. I’m guessing if the less well off Jessica
worked out the tax law, it probably would be different. Yes, there is no
question the Jessica Tax Cuts and Job Act would be different from the Trump
Tax Cuts and Job Act. In
addition to throwing money at people who do not need more money, the tax
bill is a problem for all of us. It’s a
two-pronged pincer movement against the average American--a huge tax burden
coupled with significantly reduced federal tax income to pay for the
burden. So here’s the fallout:
Ritholz.com recently released the research report of Deutsch Bank on the state
of the U.S.
economy in 2017. Yes, 2017. It takes a while to crunch those
numbers. As Deutsch Bank tells us,
“Interest alone on the U.S. Government’s rising debt reached $1.5 billion a day
in 2017.” That’s $1.5 billion per
day in interest. To put that
figure in context, consider the Bal Harbor Shops, the high end shopping mall in
Miami Beach , FL.
It was the evening after Christmas, but there was a solid
crowd at the Lily Pad attentively ready at the scheduled 7:30 start time.
They wanted to see what Charlie Kohlhase was up to, and almost exactly
at 7:30 he counted off the
first music of the evening, letting fans know exactly what he was up to. Instead of the larger Explorers combo,
Charlie brought what he called his “Explorers Trio” to the gig. And it was nothing like Charlie’s more
typical Explorers ensembles. Except for
the play list. Even the “unusual” works
of the evening were less well known only because he hadn’t played them in
several months. So Charlie and the
guys--Jef Charland and Curt Newton--were doing the same charts as the larger
groups, but they were doing something different with them. Something special. I was not quite sure going into the gig what
Charlie was going to do. After all, it
was potentially a great showcase for Charlie’s instrumental talents,
particularly with such outstanding support likely from his trio band
mates. But he chose to make the night a
celebration of music in general and the specific brilliance of Jef and Curt. In that process he reminded us inevitably of
his own extraordinary reed talents. The
opening blues was a perfect case in point.
Typically Charlie opens each gig with a blues that has an evolving
moniker relevant to some recent Trump administration blunder. The title for the piece 12/26 was “Do You
Still Believe in Santa Clause?” Familiar
but very different. The trio opened on
fire, growling and screeching and thundering at a level I’ve never heard from a
Charlie Kohlhase ensemble. No
prisoners. But that was merely the
stunning surface impact. Even more
compelling (if that was possible) is what happened to each of the
musicians. The music was all about each
musician in the trio context. The stage
became wider. Each musician was given
his own substantial creative music space.
So, yes, there was Charlie with horn (alto, tenor, or baritone) out
front blowing fans back a couple rows.
But during that solo and after there was plenty of space for bass and
drums to take over the stage. Take over
the room. Take over Cambridge .
For example, Jef took an extended “Explorers” intro solo that
was a substantial thesis about the piece so compelling I was surprised that I
saw no one in the audience taking notes.
Wonderful. By the time his bass work
told us explicitly what (i.e., the melody) he was telling us about, I half
expected Charlie and Curt to become statues, refusing to come in and carry out
the specifics of the chart (which they nevertheless did quite
compellingly). And Curt. One of the things I enjoyed most about the
evening is that the expanded bandstand gave Explorers fans a chance to see and hear
what a truly extraordinary Boston
treasure the drummer is. The nice thing
about that experience is that the moments of solo free rein, as wonderful as
they are in themselves, offered an opportunity for people to see and hear just
how amazing Curt (ears and all) is, even while he is making Jef and Charlie
sound so good. And all of that is such a
fine indicator of who Charlie is--so good that he is not hesitant to show us
how terrific his band mates are. A true
jazz icon. And three brilliant jazz
musicians opening the door to hopefully a better New Year…
With the end of one year and a new one arriving, perhaps I
was thinking about where improvised and other new music might be going. In any case, out of nowhere I recalled an
ancient story I once encountered. I say
“ancient” because I encountered the story when I was in elementary school. My memory tells me it happened in a
barbershop while I waited to get a haircut.
To kill time I picked up a science fiction comic book. In those days science fiction probably was
more popular than it is today.
Ubiquitous--the Science Fiction Book Club (which put you on a waiting
list to be among the first commercial passengers to go to the moon; I signed up
and still am waiting), TV shows, the Science Fiction Theater radio show
every weekday, and of course countless cinema space adventures. The comic book sci-fi adventure I encountered
so many decades ago was about a passionate violinist whose life was music. But his playing--it did not say whether his
music was composed or improvised--certainly was original and poorly
received. However, the reception was not
quite like the aggressive rejection of new music that we typically associate
with first performances of Berg’s Altenberg Lieder or the May 15, 1958 performance of
Cage’s Concert for Piano and Orchestra or music of countless jazz
performances. No, the violinist’s
performances did not cause rage or anything like it. Rather it was almost the opposite. His violin performances caused people to fall
asleep. At first it was family and
friends. As he grew older occasionally
he was able to talk someone into giving him a gig. The result was dozens--perhaps hundreds--of
people falling asleep at once.
Miraculously he got himself a TV gig and put people all over the country
to sleep, no doubt with some kind of calamitous results. Confronting reality and unable to put away
his instrument, the violinist spent the next years of his life walking the
woods and hills playing to the rocks, trees, and grasses. This behavior continued for some time. Then, in the final panels of the comic story,
we see the mature musician sawing away at his violin, hair flowing in the
breeze and complete satisfaction radiating from his face. The last panel is a pull-back shot of the
performance, revealing the slender artist making sounds for a fully attentive
audience of aliens from apparently a variety of different planets. I recall this memory because it may be entertaining
to readers but especially for those of you who occasionally find yourselves
pausing in midstep, looking around, and saying to yourselves, “Why am I
here? I know I’m not from this
planet.” Happy New Year…
I missed a ton of
fine jazz gigs this month. Some of that
loss was due to typical November activities--interstate travel, family
connections, and Turkey Day events. But
the real killer for me was a bug that invaded my home for more than two
weeks. I can’t remember the last time I
was in bed with a sore throat for several days in a row. So coverage of local jazz performances this
month is slim. But there are other
recent developments--political and artistic--that warrant comment and perhaps
your consideration…
As some fans of the
music know by now, the Outpost website domain was shut down this month. It was a surprise for one of the most
important performance venues in the Boston
area and a vital center for the presentation of post-Ayler jazz in
particular. Concerned, I attempted to
contact via email producer Rob Chalfen about the shutdown. I had no idea whether it was a glitch or even
if the venue itself was closed. Rob did
respond, saying that the venue is indeed up and running. I have heard that Rob is attempting to renew
the original web site domain. We wish
him the best success in his attempts to solve the problem…
Regarding the recent
elections for US Senate and House seats, a friend sent me the following unattributed
statement. There seems to be something
to the argument:
Some elderly fans
can remember when every major city in New England
had at least one daily paper that featured a jazz column one or two times per
week. In the 1950s and well into the
last quarter of the 20th century there were jazz listings at least
twice per week and some form of “jazz column” about live gigs at least once per
week in the Boston Herald and the Boston Globe featuring the
observations of such respected writers as Ernie Santosuosso, Bob Young, Bob
Blumenthal, and others. Today coverage
of jazz by the Herald and the Globe is sporadic, unpredictable,
and invariably about the local performance of some international star
or the passing of one of the jazz giants--each type of story often somehow
coming across as indistinguishable from the other. Even in New York the weekly reviews of jazz gigs by Gary Giddins in the Village
Voice and Nate Chinen in the New York Times are gone. As in the case of Boston (where you can find live jazz coverage
at this web site and elsewhere online), New
York jazz gigs are documented exclusively on a
scheduled basis online only. Until
recently. On 1/1 of this year (Happy New
Year!) the New York Times announced the birth of a new monthly “live jazz”
column featuring the writing of Giovanni Russonello, who was not unfamiliar to New York area jazz
fans. The difference in this commitment
was the predictability of its nature. At
the beginning of each month the Times would publish reviews of jazz
gigs that took place in the previous month.
The idea is something like this Jazz Journal for Boston area events, but significantly the
coverage was taking place in print--New York Times print. A major newspaper has been paying Giovanni
Russonello to review several jazz performances in New York City each month. In addition to that aspect of the commitment
is the fact that it is likely most of the musicians covered are relatively
unknown to jazz fans, even in New
York . To his
credit (and the newspaper’s), Giovanni Russonello is eschewing the easy path of
drawing readers with names such as John Patitucci, Dave Holland, or Pat
Metheny. Instead he “introduces”
probably most of us to the likes of Marquis Hill, Nioka Workman, and Thomas
Morgan. Yes, most of the groups I’ve
seen referenced in his monthly feature are rooted in bebop, pop fusion, or
ethnic influences on chord cycle jazz (with a little composed European music
for spice). He seems to cover perhaps
less than desirable quantities of completely free stuff or arrangements devoid
of chord cycles and non-chronometric pulse.
But he obviously is open-minded.
And the New York Times “experiment” is just beginning. May it soar…
According to National
Geographic (10/17/18 ),
the salt that we use every day is contaminated with micro-plastics, pieces of
plastic that are smaller than 1/5 inch.
The study examined 39 brands of salt in 21 countries (including the U.S. ) and found
that 90 percent of the salt samples contained micro-plastics. Not surprisingly the plastics are harmful,
affecting human immune responses and the transmission of toxic chemicals and
pathogens. Because of huge amounts of
plastic waste in the oceans, sea salt is the most contaminated, followed by
lake salt and rock salt. The report
estimates that the average adult consumes 2,000 pieces of micro-plastic every
year. I saw nothing about a way to
filter salt in your home effectively…
Update 1/12/19: I pursued the problem of plastic particles in
salt and soon discovered that the choice of less contaminated kinds of salt
such as lake salt and rock salt offered their own set of problems, including
difficulty of availability and/or having less than desirable applications for
human consumption. However, there is
salt available that is completely free of plastic contamination. Unfortunately only one brand of
uncontaminated salt is available in the U.S. Redmond Real Salt is mined ancient (i.e.,
long before we had plastic bottles and toys) sea salt found in Utah . It is available in local stores such as Whole
Foods and online. One caveat: It
contains no iodine. So you have to
obtain your daily iodine from another source, such as food supplements and
(better yet) healthy foods such as fish and other sea food, seaweed, kelp,
cranberries, strawberries, and green, leafy vegetables. You probably will not be surprised to
discover that Redmond Real Salt is more expensive than common sea salt, but
using it may keep you alive longer to continue weighing the costs vs. the
costs…
For the second set
of Eric Rosenthal’s monthly series at the Lily Pad 11/14 Eric brought Nate McBride (acoustic bass and electric
basses) to the stage for Nate’s second gig of the night. Eric brought some out-of-town brass
also. Ellwood Epps (tpt) came
from the North (i.e., Montreal )
and Stephen Haynes (cornet) came from the South (i.e., CT) to have a reunion of
sorts, sharing the reunion with the two Bostonians. The event was more than bringing together
people from three geographic areas.
Fortunately for all in attendance, the two upper brass musicians (Stephen
Haynes also brought out a flugelhorn on occasion) think differently musically. For the most part Ellwood Epps is a sound
sculptor and Stephen Haynes is a conversationalist/lyricist on their
horns. And that difference generally
worked in a fine complementary way. If
that wasn’t enough, Nate and Eric were on fire, making music worth any audience
member’s presence in itself. I got the
feeling that even I could get up on the stage and make beautiful sounds with
them in back of me (I jest of course).
But their dancing context was quite wonderful. In spite of all that, there was one
glitch. A group statement of free music
can last for an hour or more, but there is no rule that specifies how long a “piece” should be. I’ve heard superb free music statements that
lasted for five minutes or even three.
But, as I’ve mentioned on occasion in this Journal before, one of
the keys to mastering free playing is knowing when to stop. It’s a problem sometimes in straight-ahead
playing, but it’s a more common problem in free playing. Stephen Haynes apparently is experienced
enough that he does not seem to have that problem, but he and the “rhythm
section” found themselves coming up with sounds apparently in an attempt to
keep Ellwood Epps from hanging out to dry.
The “endless” false endings did not destroy the evening, but I found
myself recalling the exchange between Miles and Coltrane when Miles called out
the saxophonist for that problem.
Coltrane somewhat apologetically explained that he would get going and
get carried away. Miles’ response (and
perhaps I paraphrase) was, “Just take the horn out of your mouth.” So simple.
At least it seems so simple…
Unless your income
is in the top 20% this year in the U.S. , that famous Trump “tax cut”
is not helping you enough to compensate for related economic developments. Two of those developments probably are enough
to clobber you. According to CNBC.com,
the consumer price index--you know, the cost of basics such as gasoline,
produce, and haircuts--rose by 2.8% in May, the biggest annual gain since
2012. And, if you are “lucky” enough to
have a home and mortgage, you likely are losing a significant tax break this
year. About 32 million filers took a
mortgage-interest federal tax deduction last year. But in 2018 the total of filers pursuing that
deduction is projected to plummet to fewer than half that number. The number drops to 14 million because the
Trump “tax cut” nearly doubles the standard deduction to $12,000 for singles
and $24,000 for married couples. This
means that, if you own a home, you cannot take advantage of the smaller tax deduction
you had on your last federal taxes. But
you don’t have to own a home to get burned.
According to the Wall Street Journal, a couple in
2017 needed greater than $12,700 in write-offs to benefit from listing
deductions on Schedule A. In 2018 the write-offs
have to exceed $24,000. In other words,
you have to be rich enough to have more than $24,000 in write-offs to get the
benefit. Now put the average person’s
economic status in the context of the recent national congressional
results. If you accept the results of
the Senate races to be a reflection of the status of the Electoral College and
the results of the House races to be a reflection of the status of the popular
vote (as most pundits do), then the outcome of the 2018 elections is a repetition
of the outcome of the 2016 Presidential election. That fact raises the question: If the
economic status of the bottom 80% of the population is worse than it was in
2015 and still deteriorating, are the recent House and Senate results a
reflection of the fact that 1) the 80% is ignoring reality, 2) the 80% is
feeling the economic crunch but not enough to abandon the President, or 3) the
Democrats are so incompetent and confused that the “Electoral College” majority
of voters has decided to stick with the greedy party that lacks a moral compass
in lieu of the party of stupidity…
Maybe white middle-aged men without college degrees are not ready to blame Republicans and
the President for the everyday economic woes via the ballot box. But there is another way for people to
demonstrate economic satisfaction or dissatisfaction. According to The Economist and The
Week (issue 902, p. 16), the global suicide rate has dropped 29% since
2000 because of “improvements in the quality of life.” Good for the globe. On the other hand, the U.S. suicide
rate has risen 18% since 2000, “mostly because of the decline in the
quality of life for white middle-aged men without college degrees.” Some people vote with their feet. Some people vote at the ballot box. Some people vote in absentia…
On the hopeful side, the Texarkana Arkansas ) Gazette in a recent editorial points out that red state Arkansas
voters are not “dumb.” They do not believe the conservative
arguments that raising the minimum wage will create job losses and higher
prices. “And,” claims the editorial,
“they know that despite the soaring economy, high corporate profits, and rising
executive compensation, not much has trickled down for them.” As a result of that insight, Arkansans voted
to raise the minimum wage in the state in 2014 and again this month with 68% of
the voters supporting the increase to $11.00 per hour. Another red state, Mississippi (you know, the state with the victory
of Cindy “I’m just a cowgirl” Hyde-Smith over Mike Espy),
did the same this month, voting a minimum wage increase to $12.00. “Both business and lawmakers failed,” said
the editorial, “to pay attention to--or worse, just didn’t care about--the very
real struggles of low income Arkansans.”
We may be seeing a lot of ballot questions in upcoming elections over
the next few years in both red and blue states…
Maybe you’ve heard
or read about the “smaller carbon footprint” trains being produced in Germany . They are taking on “polluting diesel trains
with costlier but more eco-friendly technology.” The new engines do not pollute in the way
that gasoline or diesel engines do. The
only emissions the engine produces are steam and liquid water. The process results in a travel range
comparable to diesel without the pollution.
Eventually the trains will be cheaper to run than diesel. Sounds great.
However, so far I have heard nothing about safety procedures and
security. The train is
hydrogen-powered. Ring a bell? The new engine is being developed by the same
people who gave us the hydrogen-filled blimp that became famous when it tried
to land at Lakehurst , New Jersey May 6, 1937 .
Oh, the humanity…
In what now seems
like the distant past, bands would have nightly gigs at clubs for weeks or even
months at a time. The ongoing nightly
challenge made individual musicians stronger and bands better. Not very many jazz ensembles get to
experience anything quite like that today.
A few times each year clubs such as Scullers and the Regattabar will
bring in a name to perform two or sometimes three nights in a row. Touring to some extent acts as a good
substitute for extended gigs at a single venue.
Performing as a unit for eight out of ten nights in a row or even for a
month or more (if the band survives the challenge) helps bring an ensemble
together, enhancing intuitive musician interplay along the way. Cutout had a bit of that experience recently
in the Mid-West--with a quick sequence of two charted nights of music and an
evening of free pursuits--before a superb set of music as part of Eric
Rosenthal’s monthly series 11/14 at the
Lily Pad. The band--Pandelis
Karayorgis, Jorrit Dijkstra, Jeb Bishop, Nate McBride, and Luther Gray--was burning
in every positive sense. The complex
charts (a Cutout hallmark) were executed with the ease of breathing during a
casual walk. The ensemble attacks and
interplay were luminous. And the
solos--punctuated by inspiring sonic commentaries from band mates--were as soaring,
surprising, and ear-catching as any I’ve ever heard from the band. Nate surely has “recovered” from his
self-imposed layoff, demonstrating a physical strength and creative flexibility
that fans have reveled in over the years.
Working with fount of creativity and fire Luther Gray certainly
helped. No doubt Luther was carrying
molten embers with him to his next gig that night in Jamaica Plain. I could not figure out whether Pandelis
Karayorgis was having more fun soloing, silently listening to the music around
him, or getting into and under the charts--stoking the music emphatically. I know I was not the only audience member
swept up in what I was seeing and hearing.
A good-sized and attentive audience it was. The music of Jeb and Jorrit was quite
fine. I don’t think I’ve heard the two
of them hear and react to each other so well before. Really special. And both of them reached down and found
improvisations that genuinely surprised me--partially because I had not heard
such “ideas” from each of them before and partially because of how effectively
they took my ears to places wonderfully uncomfortable. It makes me wonder sometimes whether Jorrit
knows just how at home he is when he squeezes such fine sounds out of both
soprano and alto saxes. I’ve known Jeb
and his music since the mid-1990s when he was playing both rock and jazz
music. I thought he was terrific then
and always since then. An extraordinary
talent. And now he is a justifiably
revered improvising musician on several continents. He’s at the time in his life when a person
works on the music and, with focussed effort, makes smalls steps upward. At this stage in his career how many
aesthetic leaps can a person make?
I don’t know. But I heard Jeb
push the music in his solos 11/14 into places I’d never heard him go
before--and I’ve listened in joy countless times to his work. How does a musician operating at his level
completely erase all paths that solos take him on and re-write the map from
scratch? I don’t know. But I know I--and a bunch of lucky people at
the Lily Pad--heard him begin that journey…
Flutist and renowned producer of performance events Matt
Samolis has taken a low profile in recent months. Some of that profile is due to travels
outside the Boston
area. But a good portion of his work in
the shadows is due to his shift in social and performance activity to a more
intimate world of “house events” including much fine art grazing and
imbibing. His music at the performances
have involved primarily meditative “cymbal bath” events in which he (and
sometimes friends) play bowed cymbals using an elaborate device of Matt’s
design consisting of cymbals and other metal elements. Matt left the shadows 10/21 to offer a solo
performance at Third Life Studios for a good-sized superbly quiet
audience. People generally embraced the
meditative event from chairs, in various yoga positions, or just quietly
sprawled on the floor or cushions. I got
the impression that each audience member brought a very personal definition of
“meditation.” One person took a yoga
position for a while, stretched for a while, and continued the cycle. A young man stretched full-length on the
floor, resting on his elbows while transfixed for most of the hour and half
performance by his cell phone. A woman
joined the group, lying on her back, facing the ceiling just in time to catch
the last twenty minutes of Matt’s fine improvised bowing. Most of the attendees quietly seemed to be
taking in their own calm (for the time of the performance at least) reality. I was one of the chair people, comfortable,
observing others in the room at times but mostly fading in and out of the
marvelous sonic context…
Hamiet Bluiett died
10/4 at age 78. He had a strong fan base
in the Boston
area in the 1980s and 1990s when he performed somewhat frequently in local clubs
within various instrumental configurations, perhaps most often with the World
Saxophone Quartet. His innovations on
the baritone saxophone were rooted in and inspired by the pioneering work of
our own Harry Carney. There is a good
Giovanni Russonello obituary in the 10/7 The New York Times covering Bluiett’s
seminal years in St. Louis
and the founding of BAG (Black Artists Group) to his life in Illinois since 2002…
Two days earlier I had witnessed music by the Kassel-Zicarelli Quintet, a group that I praised in the September Journal for its open music with solid mainstream grounding. I found it fascinating and uplifting to witness in sequence two chord-cycle-based ensembles that are so convincing. Many times in this Journal I have lamented the boring music offered by almost all mainstream jazz ensembles today. And here at the Lily Pad 10/2 was another antidote to such disappointments. The Allan Chase Quartet--with Joe Berkovitz, Bruno Råberg, and Austin McMahon--presented music that had sonic commonalities with the music performed 9/30 at the Lily Pad. The groups shared one other characteristic that may have contributed to musical success. Both groups played a few “standards” but mostly original material. Perhaps original material--because it is relatively devoid of historical precedent--has by definition built-in possibilities of sonic discovery. At least that may be the case for these two bands. Also quite fortunately these groups otherwise are unlike each other. Although most Boston-based jazz musicians were not born and raised in the
There is a lot of smoke and mirrors in national politics today, but it does seem that Congress (even including most Democrats) and the White House are doing their best to make sure that the rich get richer and the bottom 80% of the population gets poorer. Analysts such at David Leonhardt in the The New York Times points out that the good news about the economy is primarily a description of the “experiences of the affluent.” Stocks are worth 60% more than they were in 2007, but most shares are owned by the wealthy and the typical household’s net worth remains about 20% lower than it was in early 2007. His comments are on the money. The tax breaks for the wealthy and businesses did not go to the employees; they went to shareholders and executives. The wonderful Trump tax break I got cannot keep up with the fruits and vegetables I buy that are 20 to 40% more costly than they were six months ago. I’m not going to go hungry because of the callous game, but I am not trying to provide food, clothing, and shelter for a family of four…
Over the years I have been privileged to witness the body movement (AKA dance) productions of choreographer Joe Burgio. Several years ago he danced with and led what he referred to as his aptly named body drama ensemble. I was hooked. As his work has evolved to pursuit of tactics and strategies to raise the level of quality of improvised dance, I have remained hooked. In recent years he works with sound and movement as complementary performance elements. Some wonderful improvising musicians--John Voigt, Walter Wright, Matt Samolis, Emilio Gonzalez, and others--have been involved in Joe’s productions. I was privileged one evening this month to witness one of Joe’s practice sessions. Four searching, passionate movement artists and indefatigable and resourceful improvisor Walter Wright were tackling the possibilities of improvised art through breaking down the “language” of psychological and physiological choices during the process of improvising. The challenge for these creative people is as great as my description sounds. And the challenge is no less daunting for Joe Burgio as he helps them unlock what he envisions. Witnessing the process is exhilarating…
According to The New York Times and other publications this month, MIT is “spending $1 billion on a new college devoted to artificial intelligence.” In other words, students no longer have to take such computer science studies as an add-on to their college major. Instead the Stephen A. Schwarzman College of Computing, Computer Science, and AI will focus on that subject in the context of ethics and everyday reality. Schwarzman has donated $350 million to find out if we can “understand this technology, not just get hit by it.” Good luck to MIT and all of us…
Most musicians and jazz fans who were around during the last quarter of the twentieth century remember the mbira, an African thumb piano, was fairly popular among both straight-ahead and post-Ayler jazz musicians. The instrument shows up on bandstands occasionally even today. According to the 10/27 issue of Science News (p.4) the instrument has had an impact on a variety of scientific pursuits. “Bioengineer William Grover built his first mbira-inspired sensor with his 8-year-old son… using scrap materials from around the house.” A user of the mbira-inspired sensor can “upload audio recordings from the sensor to a website that analyses the sound frequencies to discern differences too subtle to hear. Comparing the frequency from a suspect liquid with that of a known sample can reveal whether the two have the same density, and thus the same ingredients.” The device can help analyze a variety of liquids for a wide range of purposes. For example, a woman in southern
David Haas and his ensemble returned to the Lily Pad 10/21 to offer two sets of improvised music and a more tactile gift, Face of Reason, a half hour CD featuring the work of seven regulars and the leader. It was a fine gesture. David Haas and six of the bandmates on the CD--Kevin Frenette, Scott Getchell, Glenn Dickson, Todd Brunel, Kit Demos, and Joe Musacchia--romped joyously at times and searched now and then quietly. The leader seemed to be lost in thought much of the night, offering spare, often pointed commentary via the piano. There were fine moments throughout the evening from Kevin, Todd, Kit, and Joe particularly. But each member of the David Haas Group offered something to listen to on that gig. The band has carved out a monthly niche in
Sports fans in the
I knew I could not catch all of the twenty-five bands
performing 9/23 at Jazz Along the Charles on the Esplanade, so I started at the
western end of the festival and hop-scotched my way eastward. This “plan” resulted in my 2 to 4 p.m. adventure beginning with the
Novick-Nieske Duo. Basically it was
Billy Novick and and Bob Nieske protected by a temporary tent covering, as were
almost all the other bands. But I was
surprised by the lack of any kind of amplification. My concern was that perhaps there would be no
amplification for the other bands. I was
fortunate enough to be standing in the front row of listeners and therefore
heard the music fairly well. People
standing in the second or third row probably were not so fortunate. The lack of microphone meant that, although I
could pick up a few random words, I never heard anything that Billy Novick had
to say. Of course, with a bit of
ineffective lip reading on my part and my experience hearing musician
commentary over the years, I was able to imagine most of what he probably was
saying. My general concern about
amplification was unwarranted. For some
reason the Novick-Nieske Duo had no amplification, but all the other bands I
encountered did have electricity for amps (but I saw no sound boards). My impression was that anyone standing in the
first three rows would have no trouble hearing bands with amps. On the other hand, except for bands with mics
for vocalists, no band leader commentary was clearly understood by most audience
members. The good news is that people
generally could witness the music effectively.
And so it was a lucky start for me to hear such fine music from
respected veterans. The bonus was
hearing the bass-clarinet duo work so smoothly.
I had caught Billy Novick perform several times over the years with
long-time duo partner Guy VanDuser. The
switch to bass partner Bob Nieske (presenting an experienced pairing also)
offered a delightful alternative.
Immediately I encountered one of the negative positives of the
festival. If I walked the entire
Esplanade bandstand area intending to hear just one tune performed by each band
over the two-hour span, I would not be able to hear all twenty-five bands. Since I heard 2 ½ tunes performed by the
Novick-Nieske Duo, right off the bat I was in serious “sampling
difficulty.” So I heard snippets of
several groups and one or two tunes from a few bands. It was pretty obvious that the selection
committee did a good job of coming up with a nice variety of changes-rooted
ensembles, most of them quite engaging.
Of greater significance to me as a jazz fan is that there was a good
number of genuinely top quality jazz ensembles at the fest. One of those groups was the only magazine
cover band at the event, the Jason Palmer Quintet. It was easy to spot the ensemble. That was the one that looked like a
marshmallow surrounded by ants. I
confess to having mixed feelings about the audience reaction, and not just
because anyone at the back of the crowd did not get to see that solid young
group of enthusiastic musicians. I think
it is great that so many people showed up to witness such fine music. And what I heard of it was fine music. But, because of fan enthusiasm and previously
mentioned time constraints, those joyous fans inevitably missed most or all of
the other genuinely stellar ensembles at the fest. Ironically, to either side of the marshmallow
were bands led by Boston
jazz pillars Yoron Israel
and John Kordalewski. I should interject
that listeners were everywhere. It was
not a big but empty jazz club by any means.
I would guess the smallest audience I saw was about forty strong, but
estimating is impossible because throngs were everywhere, some apparently
passers-by but perhaps genuinely engaged.
Given the number of mandatory works to be performed, most groups I
witnessed apparently used lead sheets enhanced by spontaneously created
“arrangement” elements--often to good effect.
One effective example of that was the Charlie Kohlhase Explorers Quintet
that worked from lead sheets and/or “real book” charts with Charlie’s
modifications and enhancements. Like
most bands I encountered, Charlie and the band--including Seth Meicht, Daniel
Rosenthal, Aaron Darrell, and Curt Newton--took the festival seriously and made
sure there were rehearsals. One Explorer
regular, Eric Hofbauer, was not in the band 9/23. He was performing in an alcove at the south
side of the Esplanade bridge closest to the Hatch Shell. To my mind it was visually the best
“bandstand” of the festival (and it was devoid of a tent cover). Intimate and engaging. Of some significance is that Eric’s
performance was the only solo one of the festival. Given potential acoustic and sociological
problems at the base of such a bridge, it was something of a gutsy move by
Eric. If that was not enough, he never
turned his amp to anything approaching eleven.
Fans had to attend to the subtleties of Leonard Bernstein’s “Maria,” if
they were going to hear the magic. You
could see people in the audience who are guitarists or wannabees--the ones with
the jaws dropped to the ground. It’s the
first Eric Hofbauer solo gig I had caught in way too long. My impression is that most band leaders and
band members took the event seriously with appropriate rehearsals and other
preparations. But I find it difficult to
imagine anyone who immersed himself in the music for this event more than
Darrell Katz. His band Odd Song,
featuring vocalist Rebecca Shrimpton, was ready. Four saxes--Phil Scarff, Allan Chase, Will
Silvio, and Melanie Howell-Brooks--and Ms. Shrimpton showed up and nailed the
charts. No easy stuff. Band members were inspired by the music and
the fact that Darrell spent the summer writing original--the most original of
the festival (in terms of what I heard)--charts of all 16/18 compositions. All that work for a single event, and I was
able to catch only a small portion of it.
But I am thankful for catching any of it. It was a wonderful sonic ending to a
significant event that had some problems.
Problems that were far outweighed by successes. The biggest complaint I heard from musicians
is that--unlike a more typical jazz festival--none of them had a chance to hear
any of the other bands. That’s a problem
that can be fixed next time, at least one potential solution also allowing fans
to hear more bands (among the 25) in a single afternoon. In the mean time, already there is at least
one positive post-fest outcome. Before
the festival band members in the Explorers Quintet heard Eric Hofbauer’s
arrangement of Ellington’s “I Got It Bad” and noticed it was completely
different from the one Charlie came up with for the quintet. Curt Newton told me that the different ideas
are complementary and may be combined into a completely new arrangement of the
work for future Explorers gigs. That’s
what creative people do…
Dave Bryant bills his monthly gigs at the Outpost as “open
rehearsals.” From time to time band
leaders have referred to working band gigs as such, sometimes tongue in cheek
and sometimes accurately. It would
appear that Dave’s Outpost performances are the latter. As one who believes that art is process, I
love witnessing rehearsals of excellent ensembles. This one--including Tom Hall, Eric Hofbauer,
Jacob William, and Miki Matsuki--is such an ensemble. And I was privy to rehearsal as part of
process. All of it is quite engaging and
informative. Dave picks a composition by
Ornette or one of his own works for the band to pull from their books or
folders. Then he talks about the work
contextually and compositionally. The
contextual information can take any form--the origin of the title, the sonic
inspiration, the physical environment during the writing, permutations of the
head, impetus for re-writes, and more.
Dave’s comments about each composition usually involve an array of
explanatory resources, such as performance of a line on the keyboard, humming,
reference to the relevant nature or impact of another composition (sometimes by
another composer), listening to and commenting on a line from the work
performed by another musician in the band, and having the band play part of the
work at different tempi. Not all of
Dave’s comments are explicitly “practical.”
But they are informative.
Discussions revealing the wit of Ornette Coleman or the creative
brilliance of Bobby Ward add spice to the mix.
Ultimately such elements result in music. Actual performance. Some of the elements--Dave included--imply
continuity over time. And it is there in
the performance. But, because the music
is true jazz performed by brilliant, distinctive improvisors, the music
performed was distinctive, new.
For example, one of my favorite Dave Bryant compositions is
“Detour.” I have heard it with pleasure
performed many times in person and on record (The Eternal Hang –
Accurate AC5035). But I never heard it
played as it was 9/9 at the Outpost.
Wonderful in its uniqueness. And
every work performed at that rehearsal was compelling. I look forward to the special experience of
witnessing future Dave Bryant Quintet open rehearsals…
The church was full,
even the balcony (featuring parishioners from the Mt. Pisgah AME Church Philadelphia ). Musicians, fans, family, and friends had come
to St. Paul AME Church Cambridge to
celebrate the life of Paul Broadnax 9/1, one month after his passing. And a celebration it was, everything from the
Prelude offered by Inge T. Engler and Donnell Patterson and the Rev. I. Ellis Washington’s welcome all the way to the
closing “When We All Get to Heaven” Recessional. Between all that there were hymns and
readings from the Old and New Testaments, all to fine effect. I looked at the program and noticed Monica
Hatch would sing Ellington’s “Heaven,” a thematically appropriate selection but
technically unwieldy, even for someone with her voice training. Her start was shaky, but she and her support
(Fred Haas, Peter Kontrimas, and Les Harris, Jr.) found solid ground quickly
and completed the fine effort to thunderous applause. Paul’s nephew Stacy Scott got the entire congregation
celebrating vocally. That was followed
by “My Tribute” sung by Ashwa Marshall who avoided the center of notes as
written on the page and creatively and spontaneously rearranged sequences of
notes, presenting accompanist Patterson with his greatest challenge of the
day. But the most potent fact of her
performance was vocal power, in effect putting all of those vocal matters on
the back shelf. If Ashwa Marshall were
present at the battle of Jericho ,
Joshua could have left all the ram horns home.
In recent years one composition performed by Paul and Peter Kontrimas
with some frequency is “Ave Maria” (Bach/Gounod), a feature for Peter. No doubt through the wizardry of Peter’s
engineering skills, Paul’s piano accompaniment for the work at a previous
performance was isolated for playback at the celebration, creating a live
performance of the work by Peter with pre-recorded accompaniment by Paul. The emotional impact of the performance could
be seen in tears and hankies and invisibly palpable beyond that. Interspersed in all of this there were verbal
“Reflections.” Representing the Lasell Village America
is a second class existence. I’m talking
about racism. But there are two elements
of black life in the U.S.
that are for the most part superior to those found in everyday white American
life: Gospel choirs and evangelical preaching.
My thoughts on how amazing good black gospel choirs are I’ll
save for perhaps another day. But the
Rev. Broadnax from Philadelphia
brings to us the elephant in the room--theologically--that cannot be
ignored. There have been some terrific
white evangelical preachers in my lifetime, but all the ones I can think of are
deceased. The ones we see in action now
are on television preaching about money they need rather than true salvation
and driving from their studios/cathedrals in limos. There’s a special place in Hell for those
people. But here on 9/1 in Cambridge we lucky people
had the chance to witness the real deal.
The Rev. Broadnax had the esteemed assignment to deliver the
Eulogy. He may well have done that
during his preaching, but what he gave us was a sermon--“a speech on conduct or
duty.” And it was a true black
evangelical sermon of the highest order, calling upon the life of Paul Leo
Broadnax as an example for all of us, and using the classic cultural device of
refrain, rooted in the timeless call and response survival vocal works of the
fields. The refrain is such an important
part of the black evangelical ministry that even white people refer to the
famous refrain-driven speech of Dr. Martin Luther king, Jr. as the “I Have a
Dream” speech. And so it was for the
Rev. Jay B. Broadnax who worked the refrain, “Well-tuned Instrument,” from the
specific reference to his father to the generalized call to all of those
present in St. Paul
AME Church St. Paul Christian Life
Center Christian Life Center
As readers of this Journal know by now, I’m not a big
fan of most “slick” magazines (jazz-oriented or otherwise). Every now and then one of those publications
offers a pleasant surprise. Such is the
case of the brief interview with Terri Lyne Carrington in the 9/19 issue of The
Improper Bostonian (p. 56). I
found her comments about roadblocks to women becoming jazz musicians insightful
and constructive. It is significant that
she acknowledges she had it a bit easier than most females because her tenor
playing father opened doors for her. It
is apparent that she plans to build on her awareness of roadblocks and doors to
help bring female instrumentalists into the music. There is more about her hopes and work in
that interview. For example, she has
fine things to say about Bill Pierce and her 9/26 celebration at Berklee Performance Center
Last October? That
was the best guess for the most recent Para
performance in town. Needless to say, it
was a happy reunion for leader Jacob William, Forbes Graham, Steve Lantner, and
Laurence Cook. Not surprising, there was
some rust in the gears. A variety of
factors have kept Laurence away from the drum kit for a couple months, he’s
battling a seasonal sinus condition, and the foot pedal for his bass drum
decided to get cranky. If that wasn’t
enough, the group has not performed together since 2017. But these are some of the finest musicians in
the Boston area
(or anywhere), and we got a chance to witness serious problem-solving 9/12 at
the Outpost. I heard Steve’s piano go to
places I’d never heard him take it. The
leader played enough bass for two gigs.
Forbes’ solos were adventuresome enough--and beautiful enough--to be
sufficient reason in themselves for fans to show up at the gig. By the beginning of the second set some form
of WD-40 seemed to be taking effect.
Highlights dominated the music, we could hear the bass drum, and the
Laurence Cook dry wit radiated from the drum kit. No dates yet.
But all musicians are anxious for more.
As are the fans…
Here’s a quote found in the New York Times from
historian Timothy Snyder that seems painfully relevant to our times: “To abandon facts is to abandon freedom. If nothing is true, then no one can criticize
power because there is no basis upon which to do so.”
It had been far too long since I had witnessed the
Kassel-Zicarelli Group in performance.
Though I was able to catch only the first set 9/30 at the Lily Pad, I
was glad to have what I could. This
version of the band was a quintet--leaders Melissa Kassel and Tom Zicarelli
featuring the work of Phil Grenadier, Bruce Gertz, and Gary Fieldman. These five excellent musicians know each
other well musically and are well versed in the challenges of the material and
its unique demands. All the musicians
are well-grounded in mainstream jazz and excel at such performances. That grounding is essential for the
realization of this music. But that is
merely the beginning. These charts and
the “unwritten” requirements of interpretation result in music that has
conventional footing but operates with open, flexible parameters for both solo
and support roles. In a conversation at
the end of the first set, Bruce enthused about the marvelous tension and
interpretive freedom inherent in the music of the band. Band members are attracted to performances
with the band because they know what to expect--the unexpected, the beauty of
anticipating and diving headfirst into surprise. The ensemble works so well to a great extent
because each musician is quite comfortable in completely free musical
settings. So “last minute” changes are
taken in stride as another surprise on the journey. Gary
has played with the group so long (and he’s such a respected musician in other
contexts) that superficially he offers the image of a drummer who’s just chugging
along in a pleasant walk. But for good
reason I heard two band members at different times on a break rave about “how
much” Gary
hears and creates on the bandstand. His
partner in all this of course is Bruce, who relishes that interpretive freedom
the bassist participates in beautifully and helps create. Phil on the break talked about an upcoming
trip he and other folks from Berklee will be taking to Shanghai .
They will teach with three performances scattered throughout that
visit. I could not help thinking how
lucky the students will be to hear just how wonderful a trumpet in the right
hands can sound. All this fine music
9/30 is born and nurtured out of the core duo of Melissa and Tom. They are the band’s visionary source, time
and again leading by example. They
write, perform, and improvise inspiring surprises. Audience members with ears and band members
are the lucky ones…
Some things are
inexplicable. It was a major event, but
there were actually a few empty seats at the Outpost 9/13 when the first set
began. Several of us arrived a half hour
before the scheduled 8 p.m.
start time. I figured that by 8 p.m. there would be people out in
the hallway and hanging from the ceiling.
Not so. Even if local fans are
not the greatest when it comes to showing up for local musicians, usually they
come out of the woodwork for touring “names.”
The fact that internationally revered musicians Frode Gjerstad and Fred
Lonberg-Holm were on the bill would have been more than attractive enough to
fill the place. The fact that the
quartet included Jeb Bishop and Curt Newton only made the pot sweeter. So the extra breathing room was a
surprise. But the quality of the music
was not a surprise. Well, that’s not
quite accurate. I expected the music to
be terrific, but it was even better than that.
This quartet consists of people who have performed over the years with
at least one of the other band members.
There are working connections.
But these guys--right from the get-go-played as if they were a working
band just hitting its stride. Everyone
seemed to know exactly when to jump in as part of a full foursome or as an
unaccompanied soloist. And everything
between. Each set began with a fine
reed-cello duo, a sort of welcome to the “outsiders.” And it provided a chance for audience members
to witness two long-time friends having a musical conversation of
reunification. Then the quartet took
over, giving plenty of opportunity for Frode (on alto sax and clarinet) to demonstrate
why he is one of the most highly-regarded creative improvisors anywhere. Fred stayed with the acoustic cello all
night, much to my joy. His electronics
are quite fine, but he’s one of my two favorite improvising cellists. Once again, his ideas, his sonics killed
me. Jeb, of course, has performed with
the two guests on many occasions, and he’s a recognized trombone giant
internationally. He obviously was in his
element, charging forward when that would be most effective or bantering or
supporting or you name it. All
superb. It was a wonderful evening of
music, and Curt was the glue that kept it all together no matter where the
music went. Bringing together a handful
of superstars of improvisation does not guarantee superstar music. Given who these four musicians are, success
was more than likely. But having Curt at
the top of his game--using toys and other adjuncts at exactly the right
instant, sitting out when silence was the most eloquent sonic device, making
the kit a machine of thunder or a cushion of kisses. Always pushing his skills and ideas to the
better music, the better skills and ideas of his band mates. As a result of all of that, everyone in the
quartet brought the music to an extraordinary level. I don’t know which group of people felt more
like a kid in a candy store, the musicians or the fans. All of us were lucky to be there at that time
and with those people. Unfortunately it
may be a while before we see Frode again.
The AFM-customs pact (as has been discussed here many times) makes it
almost impossible for creative improvising musicians to come here to perform
with U.S.
musicians. Because the power brokers in
Washington do not like any form of human/artistic immigration and the Musicians
Union sees sonic art entering this country as a threat to AFM members jobs
(e.g., see my comments about the New York
Times coverage of the subject in the October 2017 Journal), it takes
ridiculous efforts to bring wonderful foreign musicians such as Frode to the
Boston area. As for Fred, maybe there is
a brighter future for Boston
area fans. Last year Fred moved near the
Hudson River in
New York ,
about a half hour North of Joe McPhee’s home.
That’s a lot closer than Chicago . I imagine that Jeb and Curt could come up
with something. For example, one heck of
a trio…
August
Paul Broadnax died 8/1 in Newton at age 92. As noted in The Major Contributors
topic of this site and in recent newspaper and online obituaries, for more than
seven decades Paul Broadnax made a significant contribution as a pianist,
vocalist, and arranger to the development of jazz in New
England . Although the
articles and tributes emphasized his good deeds and durability as an artist,
both worthy of such emphasis, I found little genuine appreciation for the
quality and historical significance of his work. For example, I saw no mention of the new
arrangements/rearrangements for Sabby Lewis’ band that helped the band leader
meet AFM requirements for an enlarged band in some Manhattan venues. As a result, Sabby’s band performed
frequently there and subsequent band recordings featured the “full”
orchestra. At the other end of the
chronology, I read nothing about the adventuresome nature of the last half
dozen years or so of Paul’s improvisations.
In those later years he pushed the parameters of mainstream jazz to
their limits. It is as if Paul forgot
that a straight-ahead player was not supposed to put “that sequence of notes”
together in a solo or while comping. It
was illegal
but always amazing, beautiful. No, it
was not a matter of making an error and turning it into a thing of wonder
(although he would do that also). These
sonic adventures were conscious transformations of melodic lines and
“abandonment” of the chord, an activity resulting in profound resonance in the
listener’s ear. Any time on a break when
I approached in wonder and tried to get him to talk about these pursuits, he
would take it all lightly and modestly.
Yes, he always appreciated positive comments about his music, but
he--perhaps due to his immersion in the adventure--never seemed to appreciate
how profound it all was. And so I was
surprised at the lack of awareness in published writing of how far Paul pushed
his piano work in his later years.
Perhaps there are exceptions I have not discovered. Yoko Miwa (perhaps because she is an active
pianist) on her web site has posted a musically insightful statement about Paul. Along
with that she has posted a video of the complete last Paul Broadnax Trio set in
Cambridge
(7/14). The “Where is he going?” tag at
the conclusion of “The Party’s Over” is a gem.
He probably did not want the party to be over…
I spent most of the
past month on vacation trips to New
York , Chicago ,
and Newport . It was a great time, but I missed some
terrific music in the Boston
area. Among the better music I did catch
was consecutive nights of Nate Wooley, Sylvie Courvoisier, and former
Bostonians Ken Vandermark and Tom Rainey at the Green Mill in Chicago .
It is quite an amazing experience to witness this foursome
unleashed. Definitely one of my fan
highlights of 2018. Once again, if there
is a better true jazz club in the U.S. today than the Green Mill, I
have not been there. Before those two
gigs I caught Joe McPhee, Susan Alcorn, and Ken Vandermark in a trio gig 8/1
celebrating the visual art of Josiah McElheny whose works were celebrating the
music of Joe McPhee. The fine event took
place at the Corbett
vs. Dempsey gallery in Chicago . The place was SRO. As part of the event John Corbett (left) and
Jim Dempsey presented the first “Horse with No Name” awards to Joe McPhee and
Susan Alcorn. The donor of the two
$50,000.00 awards is an anonymous fan (living in Europe ,
one story has it). In any event, it is a
terrific “lifetime achievement” celebration of two wonderful creative
improvising musicians. The music
performed by the trio was superb. No
doubt part of the reason is the trumpet used by Joe. Joe’s father was a great influence on him,
musically and otherwise. If you are a
male who has had a father of presence, you know that such a thing
is a mixed blessing. In any event, the
trumpet played by Joe’s father from Joe’s infancy and onward finally came into
Joe’s possession. It is a B-flat
Holton. As you might imagine, the legacy
is daunting. Joe claims that on a couple
occasions he planned to perform on the instrument in public, but he could not
get even a sound out of it. He has had a
chance to grapple with the demons. And
he thought the
visual art celebration of his sonic art would be a good time to play that
trumpet in public. Play he did. And wonderfully. It is a great-sounding horn, and Joe did a
fine thing to bring it alive again at such a meaningful concert. It was quite an evening. Profound music and money together, however
fleeting. What could be more incongruous
than that?...
It sounds like fake
news, but the research results can be found in a variety of recent scientific
news releases (“giant hogweed” might be a good Google starting point). I never knew about this phenomenon, possibly
because I always wash lime juice off my fingers after I serve someone a vodka
tonic with lime. Here’s the deal:
Apparently the juice/sap from lemons, limes, dill, fennel, parsnip, and other
plants on human skin--if exposed to the sun--causes human skin to burn. For example, if you make lemonade and get the
juice on your fingers and touch your arms, if you wash your hands and spend
some time in the sun, you will experience “severe burns” on your arms (but your
washed hands will be OK). The burning
condition is known as phytophotodermatitis.
I’m not making this up…
Charlie Kohlhase’s Explorers Club showed up as a quintet
8/22 at the Lily Pad. Nothing unusual
about that, but personnel shifts were significant. The “regulars” on bass, trumpet, tuba, and
trombone were absent. But other
regulars--Charlie, Seth Meicht, Eric Hofbauer, and Curt Newton--were on hand to
make sure the ship would set sail and arrive securely at the dock. As if that were not enough, Jef Charland and
Jeff Galindo showed up filled with adventures to share. Jef, of course, has a long Explorers history
and was therefore comfortable enough to tackle even the least familiar charts. Jeff Galindo was a particularly welcome
guest. Not only has it been too long for
him to have not shared the stage with these guys, a variety of personal and
professional demands have kept him away from his Boston fan club (myself
included) far too much. Parenthetically,
wouldn’t it be a heck of a kick to witness a band with a front line of only
Jeff and Jeb Bishop! So the Explorers
did their usual pieces composed by band members and Charlie’s superb selections
penned by some of the leader’s favorite music legends. The mix of musicians and by now familiar (to
audience members and regulars on the bandstand) compositions created a fine
aural mix of recognition and surprise.
Such evenings are among the treats of summer in Boston when schedules are unstable and
resources therefore uncertain. Somehow
occasionally the necessary problem-solving results in improvisatory journeys
unlikely in the matriculation seasons of October and March. Thank you, Charlie for your timely--and
artistic--resourcefulness…
The most fundamental
political/economic problem facing the average American is obvious, and yet the
President and a vast majority of legislators on both sides of the aisle seem
oblivious to the problem. Those in power
keep referring to high employment and the booming stock market. Most people either are already employed or
choose not to be, and they certainly do not have sufficient income to benefit
from the S&P Index. It seems that
only people who do not have a prayer of gaining significant political power
during the next five to ten years--i.e., the socialists--get it. Those socialists have a wide array of goals,
and among them is the BIG ONE: Fixing economic inequality. For the average American stealing from the
rich and giving the stolen money to the rich does not solve the problem. The socialists get that. Early this month NBCNews.com released data
that works beautifully for socialist politicians. The report says, “Of adults between 18 and 64
years old, 39.4 percent said they had trouble with at least one of four basic
necessities--housing, utilities, food, and health care.” It is too bad that neither political party is
capable of exploiting what the socialists know and turning that knowledge into
gaining seats in the House and Senate.
But neither party seems to care about the reality of the average
American. And that will show itself in
the 2018 elections when there will be media excitement about upsets, major
victories, and significant losses. But
the power balance will not change because (other than pro-Trump fanatics) few
remaining potential voters will go through the obstacles (Gerrymandering or
otherwise) to elect greedy and/or stupid politicians. Because, for the most part, that’s the
choice…
For some time the
monthly Steve Lantner ensembles--historically everything from duo to
more than quintet--have materialized as a threesome. The same threesome--Steve, Allan Chase, and
Luther Gray. Boring. Yeah.
Boring in the same way that a great meal, a first kiss, or facing a
judge in court is boring. Also, time and
again band members bring their everyday experiences to the stage to help
us--doubtless without such intent--to understand the humanity behind and within
the music. And like the music itself,
the non-musical humanity is engaging, compelling. Over the years audience members have heard
stories about gardening, buying and moving into a new home, stoats, and much
more. Even about experiences with other
musicians. And that’s what happened
8/28. There were stories all over the
place--Sam Rivers lost in Prescott ,
AZ
July
The full Leap of Faith
Orchestra--two million strong--offered its most convincing performance to date
at Killian Hall on 7/14. The gig opened
with a fine totally free nonet performance.
The “small” group--PEK, Glynis Lomon, Yuri Zbitnov, Mimi Rabson, Elinor
Speirs, Jim Warshauer, Syd Smart, Eric Rosenthal, and Steve Niemitz--gave us a
good opportunity to hear solos and soli up close before the “big band” took the
stage to hit us with more than an hour and a quarter of Dave Peck’s
"Cosmological Horizons." I
applauded the Pickman Hall Leap of Faith Orchestra performance in last
December’s Journal but noted aspects of “SuperClusters” that I believed
could be improved. I’m happy to report
that the tweaks incorporated in this new piece have provided much more
effective architecture. I did not pick
up for review my copy of the chart and notes for "Cosmological
Horizons" until about a third of the way through the performance. I prefer to hear music in performance
(to assess what it sounds like) rather than to read along (looking for
mistakes?). Also, the reproduction of
the chart for audience members is something less than 100% and therefore
cumbersome to read in less than brilliant light. However, one did not need help from the copy
of the chart to witness the improvements.
They were quite audible. The only
reason I picked up the score at all was to confirm that the writing was telling
me that the reasons for the improvements were what I imagined. The sonic definition and timing of sub-units
and solos is much clearer than ever before.
Band members--those in the nonet plus Jane Wang, Silvain
Castellano, Zachary Lavine, Albey
onBass, Charlie Kohlhase, Zack Bartolomei, Eric Dahlman, Forbes Graham, Bob
Moores, Duane Reed, Dave Harris, Eric Woods, Reverend Grant Beale, Chris
Florio, and Eric Zinman--seem to be having more fun integrating “toy
instruments” (auxiliary instruments) into the mix, and that’s not a throwaway
remark. Among other things, that joy
suggests how much the band members “get it”--the idea, the texture. Maybe it is a result of the acoustics of the
room, but the performance throughout the evening suggested that band members
were hearing each other better than ever.
So many good things were happening that I hesitate to offer a
caveat. However, by his own admission in
notes distributed for performances of the full orchestra over the years, Dave
is an unabashed tinkerer (e.g., in each new score he adds “something new to my
notational system.”). An idea or
physical creation can be “improved” to death.
One of the reasons people are crowded three or four deep to see “The
Starry Night” any time I visit MoMA is that Van Gogh knew when to put his brush
down. He knew that additional
“improving” would diminish the quality of the work. I’m suggesting that Dave’s writing (as
demonstrated in the 7/14 performance) has reached a high point
But wait. There’s more.
The duo performance was something of a historic event. I had caught Glynis Lomon and Dave Peck
perform as a duo a few times in the 1990s, but I had thought they had performed
at least once or twice during the past couple of decades. No.
Dave noted that somewhat recently they had performed during a brief
single set, but they had not been together as a duo for an entire gig since the
1990s. As it turns out, that “duo gap”
was significant. On the surface, the
lack of such a duo outing does not seem to be remarkable. During the past decades fans have witnessed
Dave and Glynis’ work on stage many times.
They are performing together three times during this month alone. But, as Glynis and Dave demonstrated 7/21 at
the Outpost, many factors--personnel, number of musicians, audience, and
instrumentation among them--affect the musical outcomes of a performance. All of those factors affected the sonic
specifics 7/21, but the most apparent factor was the number of people on
stage. As any improvising musician will
tell you, the challenges of performing solo are different from those of performing
in a duo, and the challenges of performing in either of those contexts is
different from performing in a trio. You
get the idea. Dave and Glynis are
affiliated with trio ensembles, and typically Leap of Faith performances
involve numbers from quartet to a couple dozen or more. The numbers affect the sonic experience. I’m not talking about quality. A soloist can offer a terrible or a terrific
performance, as is the case for a stage full of musicians. What a musician does in these different numerical
contexts of necessity is different in each case. That fact became wonderfully clear 7/21 at
the Outpost. For many years fans have
had the terrific experience of realizing the contributions of these two
musicians to the work of others in larger ensembles, such as Glynis leading a
roar of other “voices” during the 7/14 Leap of Faith Orchestra performance at
Killian Hall. In the duo performance
(I’m tempted to suggest) the “weight” of supporting others was lifted. There were no quotidian musical responsibilities. It was just two superb improvisors chatting
over lunch on a day off. But it was more
than a good-natured, relaxed encounter between old friends. The music they made was affected by the
context, but the “same” instruments were bringing forth different sonics. Both of them from time to time performed
using various percussion tools, voice, and Aquasonics. But Glynis’ primary focus was cello, and Dave
switched back and forth between an array of primarily metal percussion
instruments (gongs, metal bars, bells,
and more) and a zillion double and single reed instruments (with a flute
entering the fray briefly). The primary
difference in this performance was not which instruments they used but how they
used them, what they said. They
certainly were not different people on this gig. But, for example, consider PEK’s parade of
instruments. On a gig with the full
orchestra one can see Dave move from instrument to instrument, something like a
bee having a great time with the flowers on a honeysuckle vine but stopping
briefly at each “flower” (i.e., instrument) to imbibe and throw a dash of paint
here or an energy boost there as needed.
There were splashes of paint and energy boosts 7/21 at the Outpost. But the musicians knew that something different
was going on. There were solos, and the
clarity of the isolation of such fine improvisations was greater than in the
larger context. But it was the unity of
the two of them in duo sonics that came across so profoundly, impossible in the
“busy” context of even a silent large ensemble. Here was Dave selecting colors to enrich the
lines offered by Glynis (particularly on cello but found in voice and
Aquasonics as well). Yes, there were
splashes of paint and energy, but the consistent wonder of the evening came
from the contributions of each musician to classic sonic architecture as
“improvised metal, glass, and masonry.”
Each musician had something important to say, and much of that came
through the enhancement of the other sonic creations on stage. I’m all for historic events, but waiting
another quarter century to hear this special music again is not a good idea…
According to a 7/16 press
release, renovation of the Press Room in Portsmouth ,
NH Massachusetts Massachusetts Portsmouth
I worked in the computer
industry for a couple decades, and I must confess that it took me almost five
years before I discovered that computer software was the cause of most problems
customers and people in the company I worked for were having with the
equipment. I’m not talking about
technical bugs. There is something
genuinely strange about software development “geniuses.” They do not create software to help people
get work done. They develop software to
impress each other. Since Microsoft and
Apple have taken over the world, we find ourselves in the best of both worlds: the
marriage of software developers and greedy businessmen/businesswomen. The AARP Bulletin (Vol. 59, No. 5) quotes
Apple co-founder Steve Wozniak as saying, “I go to sleep regretting where it
went--the internet was supposed to be pure, a place for people to share and do
business. It got cornered by big
business.”
There is no bass in the
Josiah Reibstein Quintet, a fact that has several significant effects on what
happens onstage with this band. First,
it means that the tuba and drums are the key to the band. If Josiah Reibstein and Joe Musacchia are not
at the top of their game, the band does not work. That’s not a slam at Tyler Burchfield, Sam
Dechenne, and Jacob Baron. It is just
that, without exhilarating work and telepathic communication on the part of
Josiah and Joe, the fine other band mates cannot overcome the peculiarities of
the instrumentation. If a bass were
added to the quintet, that would open space for the tuba to take on more
conventional support roles and pursue Josiah’s improvisational dancing. But Josiah has chosen to be both “bass” and
“tuba,” demonstrating justified confidence in his ability to be both. But that dual role is possible only because
of the leader’s decision to call on Joe Musacchia and his spot-on work at the
drum kit. The most obvious significant
effect of a lack of bass in the band is the tuba-centric ensemble sound. The fact that Josiah is carrying out two
instrumental functions means that the tuba sonics are almost ubiquitous. In other words, no matter what other
arranging devices are employed, the band retains a signature “tuba” sound. In addition, because the tuba and drums are
an inspiration rather than a constraint, the other band members can perform
written and improvised parts with confidence and a certain amount of
abandon. There was plenty of applause
for solos from Tyler Burchfield, Sam Dechenne, and Jacob Baron, but that
applause might have been for their execution of the charts also. Josiah obviously is fascinated by sounds and
tempos, and those elements end up in his charts (such as “Florestinia”). As in the case of mostly big band arrangers
before him (e.g., Manny Albam’s wonderful arrangements of music from “West Side
Story” on Coral LP CRL 57207) Josiah loves street sounds and plugs them into
his music to good effect. One gets the
feeling that a Josiah fantasy is to have been invited to perform on Max Roach’s
Quiet
as It’s Kept or Dave Brubeck’s Time Out or basically any Don Ellis
big band album. He has an attraction to
what has become known as “odd” time signatures, particularly those
incorporating five beats in the cycle.
The sounds and the time signatures do not daunt the guys in the
band. Their performance 7/13 at Third
Life Studio demonstrated that the challenge was an inspiration…
I try to limit my references
to artistic pursuits other than jazz (e.g., visual art, theater, and so-called
“classical” music), but I must confess that I love all the arts and sometimes
get carried away. Whenever I post
information about non-jazz arts I rationalize.
For example, when I posted “A Tribute to John Cage” among the scheduled
jazz listings, I did not hesitate because so many jazz musicians and fans that
I encounter are John Cage fans (and therefore may be Nam June Paik fans). The exhibit closes early this month. So anyone reading this who has not caught the
exhibit likely has missed it. I do hope
that people in the Boston Brandeis University Rose Art Museum Rose Art Museum Boston Boston Boston
It was an encore prompted by
a warm and sustained audience response at the end of the evening. The musicians chose to play “All the Things
You Are.” It was a nice choice, a jazz
standard known by everyone in the universe and no doubt everyone in the
audience. Since approximately
mid-century the Kern- Hammerstein composition has sustained quite a beating
from mainstream jazz musicians. Taking
inspiration from Parker and Gillespie while ignoring the vast melodic resources
of the work that the bebop pioneers knew and exploited, jazz musicians since
then time and again have used the composition as a show piece muddled with running
the changes. But there was none of that
in the encore 7/22 at the Lily Pad. A
freshman at one of our many local music schools might have reacted with
displeasure at how slowly the piece was played, perhaps confused at the superb
music that was being mined. Actually the
work was not performed slowly, something closer to medium tempo. But listeners have become so accustomed to
break-neck performances of the piece that listening to a truly musical
performance of the work is something of a surprise. The encore played by the Joe Hunt Trio--Joe,
Yuka Hamano Hunt, and Keala Kaumeheiwa--was a perfect demonstration of why
anyone longing to catch a live performance of mainstream jazz played “the way
it used to be” should show up to witness the monthly Joe Hunt Trio gigs. By that I mean mainstream jazz performed with
contextual insight rooted in witnessing the pioneers in flight rather than
second-hand dogma and reference to recordings.
It is important to interject that the authentic grounding to a great extent
comes from Joe’s performances in the early 1960s in New York
The Week is a weekly digest of politics and culture that
fairly successfully presents news and opinion, offering perspectives from the
left, the right, and between. Each issue
devotes part of one column to several usually interesting quotes from a wide
range of historic and current figures.
Here are a few of my favorites from the 7/20 issue:
“The true test of a man’s
character is what he does when no one is watching.”--Basketball coach John
Wooden
“I bring out the worst in my
enemies and that’s how I get them to defeat themselves.”--Attorney Roy Cohn
“He who knows only his side
of the case knows little of that.”--John Stuart Mill
June
As a warm-up to the
6/26 gig at the Outpost several people in the band and in the audience
discussed some of the manual labor involved in home ownership--everything from
unpacking boxes after a move to chain saw work (still ongoing in my case) to
create fireplace logs and debris from the windfall of the great spring
storm. But Steve Lantner’s description
of digging, establishing a base, and laying stone (only to have an unexpected
rain mess things up) took center stage.
Fortunately, manipulating 50 pound stones seems to have had no effect on
his ability to play the piano. The Steve
Lantner Trio with Allan Chase and Luther Gray did some building of its
own on stage. Maybe it was coincidental,
but the music of the first set brought stone to mind. Stone for art. The men worked in sound sculpture to an
extent I cannot remember for the three of them on a gig. You know, something significantly closer to
the music of John Butcher than that of Joe McPhee. The beautiful sonic shape shifting continued
for most of the first set, resulting in sighs and applause from the
audience. The second set was more of a
sonic travelogue with music rambling and changing, moving the lead from one
person (or one duo) to another with slow but compelling mood shifts. After the hearty applause at the end of the
second set was done, I asked Steve whether someone had fixed the tuning-cranky
piano. I was amazed at how he could make
such a less than perfect piano sound so good.
He said that before the first set he had had time to test the piano and
fix five of the notes. Five notes. Imagine fixing only five notes on the Outpost
instrument and being able to play that much piano. No doubt the superb work of Allan and Luther
helped bring out the best…
Vocalist Rebecca Parris died 6/17 at age 66. Her passing has been noted in a variety of
local print and online media and a fine Andrew R. Chow obituary in The
New York Times. She had a
formidable presence and stage personality, not unlike the larger-than-life
female blues singers of the first half of the last century. But she was a jazz singer, one who mentored
youngsters and inspired by example. Born
Ruth MacCloskey in Needham 12/28/51 , she
made the savvy business decision to use the name Rebecca Parris. Throughout her half century as a performer
she sang with almost all of the respected mainstream musicians in town and had
appearances with Nat Pierce, Gerald Wiggins, Woody Herman, Red Mitchell, and
many others. For more than a decade Rebecca
Parris battled a daunting list of medical afflictions including heart disease,
hip replacement, diabetes, and collapsed discs.
She was a person of indomitable spirit.
Minutes after sitting in with her partner Paul McWilliams at a jam
session 6/17 in South Yarmouth , Rebecca Parris
collapsed in the parking lot…
The David Haas Group--David Haas, Kevin Frenette, Scott
Getchell, Glenn Dickson, Todd Brunel, Kit Demos, and Joe Musacchia--is a
rarity, a free improvising ensemble that shows up every month with essentially
the same personnel to perform at the Lily Pad.
And, as I’ve noted before, once a free ensemble consists of a half dozen
musicians or more--with no predefined cues or architecture--group interaction
can be especially tricky. So I always
enter a David Haas Group gig with fingers crossed. On the other hand, the ensemble has been
doing a fine job of figuring out how to cope with the challenges without
developing crutches, handles, or back doors--a significant achievement. The fact that some of Boston ’s finest musicians are the heart of
the band is central to its success. Even
with the ensemble’s maturity, during the first set the group presented a lot of
“searching” interspersed with moments of compelling solo, duo, and ensemble
offerings. Scott played some wonderful
solo lines and managed to become a whole brass section when he teamed with the
clarinets. Bass and drums engaged and
surprised with occasionally foot-stomping “rhythm section” work trading with
moments during which--intentionally and with fine effect--the two instruments
(sometimes with synth essays) were not even on the same page. While I applaud musicians occasionally laying
out for the sake of the total impact, we could have used more commentary
from Scott and Kevin throughout both sets.
Their contributions sonically always were spot on. The leader revels in the sound party as much
as any of his band mates. Most of the
time he is happy to use the piano as a prod.
But there are “surprise” occasions when he offers lines that become
sentences and paragraphs that change the group path completely. One of the most consistently successful
elements of the band during both sets was the pairing of Messrs. Brunel and
Dickson. Obviously there is a natural
affinity between the two clarinets, and these gentlemen over the months have
figured out how to exploit that affinity with a range of everything from
delightfully cacophonous “arguments” to the realization of two instruments
becoming one. The first set and the
break apparently set up the second set, during which everything of the best
music touched on and hinted at in the first set came to fruition. All those brilliant solo, duo, and ensemble
moments seemed to resolve as an organic unity.
The work of individuals and groups within the ensemble retained the
strong identities offered during the best moments of the first set, but (as
strong as each element was) each of the voices and groups of voices was more
integral to the whole during the second set.
It was as if each voice had a greater awareness of and commitment to the
whole ensemble. And the ensemble
reciprocated…
It is not remarkable
that Wynton Marsalis led the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra 6/10 at Jordan
Hall, but maybe there is some significance that The Improper Bostonian
had the Celebrity Series event listed as a Classical gig…
The Third Life Choreographer Series event 6/15 at Third Life Studio featured brief
performances by nine movement ensembles.
The evening was an engaging celebration of the human body in
motion. Almost all of the presentations
(for a variety of practical reasons) featured pre-recorded sounds with the
performances. A notable exception was
Joe Burgio’s Ensemble Inedit, an interdisciplinary group. There was fine improvised/structured movement
at the core of the work. In addition
(and concurrently) two of the body movement specialists in sequence recited
foreign language poetry including the ancient “Remembrance” by Todros Abulafia
and the contemporary “Spectacle of the dance” by Hector de Saint-Denys
Garneau. The “alien” vocal sounds,
integral with the movement, is a wonderful innovation for the ensemble, opening
a door to endless sonic/dance possibilities.
Joe’s ideas have evolved significantly over the years since his compelling
“body drama” choreography. Risk is much
more central to his current work, risk that is rooted in a more pervasive
abstraction of motion. Bringing in other
elements, such as vocalization, enhances the challenge and resultant aesthetic
energy. One element that Joe has
incorporated successfully for years is improvised music. The sonic structure/architecture established
by Joe for the choreography has evolved over time, but some musicians, such as
John Voigt and Walter Wright keep soldiering on through all the changes. And beautifully. On this gig John and Walter were joined by a
relative newcomer, guitarist Reggie Liu.
The combination of flexible veterans and youthful adventurer came
together superbly--opening doors and sustaining events in ways that supported
and spotlighted the vocal sounds and evolving abstraction of human
movement. The result was a wonderful
highlight of a celebratory evening…
This Journal
in February mentioned the impending closing of Ryles. There have been several follow-up articles on
the subject in The Boston Globe and elsewhere since then. As far as I know, Scout Cambridge Inman Square area. But anyone offering gourmet food or music
certainly would not be competing with what is happening at S&S these
days. Somehow I find it difficult to
imagine S&S upgrading its menu or booking bands. In any case, two thoughts come to mind. First, it could be a long time before Ryles
is sold. Why would anyone want to buy a
restaurant but not be able to use it as such?
Second, we are quite unlikely ever to hear any jazz coming from either
the Ryles or the S&S property…
Summer may be the
best time to enjoy Manhattan . Piano in Bryant Park in New York is up and running at lunch time (12:30-2:30 ) again this year. So, if you are in the vicinity of the New
York Public Library this summer for lunch, you can catch a range of people
offering solo performances on the upright piano at the East end of the
park. People scheduled who are likely to
appeal to jazz fans include Jon Weber (July 9-13) and Bertha Hope (August
20-24) and others…
With George Garzone overseas, there was a lack of The Fringe
in Boston . But there was a night for the Bob Gullotti
Trio, a great opportunity for Bob to bring John Lockwood and long-time
collaborator Tim Ray to Third Life Studio for the enjoyment of a near full
house 6/22. By way of introduction Bob
said, “We usually improvise, but tonight we are going to play some tunes,
too.” It seems that someone in the
audience did not understand Bob was using common short-hand to make the
distinction between totally free playing and straight-ahead jazz. The person apparently thought the comment was
a joke and laughed. But he was
alone. Others knew what they were in
for--or at least thought they knew.
During the two sets of music the line between solos in a mainstream
context and free adventures remained blurry, and to good effect. No doubt to make audience members
comfortable, the trio opened the first set with a Wayne Shorter tune--but
manipulated it with sounds that pushed the architecture in many different
directions. The next piece was
completely spontaneous, and the blurring of the lines continued. There were times when the music brought to
mind the more successful trios of Bill Evans and Tommy Flanagan. It was not a matter of mimicry but rather the
intimacy of the three instruments, the idea that (for example) the sounds
suggested the guy playing the piano also was playing the bass--or vice
versa. Woven throughout the evening were
another Shorter piece as well as works by Tadd Dameron and trombone monster
Jeff Galindo (with some Flanagan channeling) and a Monk closer. And through it all we caught fine moments of
the musical personalities on stage--the dry wit of the pianist, the empathetic
twenty fingers of the bassist, and the compelling-propelling earth quake coming
from the signature Eames trap set. After
the gig Bob told me of his upcoming busy summer including two months in Europe and Scandinavia . Apparently later in the summer The Fringe
will return to Denmark
as the core faculty of that country’s jazz camp for professional musician
students. The legendary trio will be
bringing with them other U.S.
jazz musicians to fill out the faculty, apparently this year including Kenny
Barron and Louis Hayes. That should be
quite a party…
In the March Journal
I mentioned the scathing comments that former CIA Director John Brennan made
about our president. Recently
conservative political analyst George Will claimed in the Washington Post that the
vice president is an even worse person than the president, referring to Mike
Pence as “America ’s
most repulsive public figure.” Trump,
Will claims, “is what he is…a floundering, inarticulate jumble of gnawing
insecurities, but Pence has chosen to be an obsequious toady…
for whom no amount of brownnosing is too much.”
Why is it that high-visibility non-liberals seem to be the most vehement
in attacking the White House? Are they
more disappointed than liberals, or is it simply that today’s liberals are
remarkably ineffectual both politically and verbally?...
On the lighter side,
according to Science online, approximately 320,000 years ago early homo
sapiens or similar beings made remarkable tool-making advances and developed
trading networks. Apparently the tools
these beings developed were a significant step up from the clunky stone products
used exclusively up to that time.
According to archaeologist John Shea of Stony Brook
University
A full house showed
up 6/4 at the Outpost to catch Tatsuya Nakatani and friends--Damon
Smith, Jeb Bishop, Forbes Graham, and Andria Nicodemou. Everyone on stage was operating in top
form. Damon Smith continues to impress
with his ability to plug in exactly what is needed or omit the potentially
superfluous during any instant of a performance. There are no questions about his technique,
but his strength is the important stuff--the music. He has established a solid place in Boston as both a superb
musician and catalyst for music events.
I’m starting to think of Jeb and Forbes as the Boston Brass. Whenever they are on the stand together
profound stuff happens. And it happened
at an extraordinarily high level through two sets 6/4. They really had their own duo band going--the
conversation and the “interruptions” were spell-binding. Through it all they were pushing the activity
of those around them to higher levels also.
And neither of them has forgotten how to solo. A special thank you is due to Andria
Nicodemou who booked the band. Fans and
even many musicians do not know how much extra effort is involved in leading
and/or booking a band. She wisely
brought in four non-percussionists who are familiar with each other musically
to play with the touring Tatsuya Nakatani.
As if inspired by her fine practical work, Andrea was in top
form musically, drawing on an array of techniques (including some very
effective horizontal drum stick slams) but never for the sake of
technique. And when there was a need to
bring on the energy, she tore up the place.
Fine stuff. All of this was
happening because Tatsuya Nakatani returned to Boston for a gig. The past couple of times I witnessed his work
he performed as a solo percussionist and in another case (also at the Outpost)
he led an ensemble of local musicians playing gongs. Both of those experiences were quite fine,
but I must confess that I had missed his creativity within the context of a band,
the kind of context he performed in most frequently when he lived here. So I got my wish, and there was no
disappointment. Tatsuya obviously was
having a ball, feeding and being fed, creating marvelous bowed and sticked
sounds. He even took bows to the
vibraphone to open the second set with a duo of bowed music, side by side with
Andrea. Tatsuya is one of my all-time
favorite percussionists, and his ensemble work 6/4 showed me once again
why. Fans know that he is a musician of
positive energy, but maybe that energy is up a notch these days. Since his last visit to Boston Tatsuya
Nakatani has become a married man.
Erika, his wife, was in the audience and obviously is his greatest
fan. The two of them have moved to a
home in New Mexico . That means, since his very first arrival on
the West Coast of the U.S., Tatsuya again is living west of the Mississippi. That’s great news for fans on the Pacific
coast. But it does give us Easterners
pause. Annual visits here by Tatsuya are
too infrequent. Can we continue to hope
for even that much?...
May
Touring percussion
duos are fairly rare occurrences. Most
of the reasons for the rarity are pretty obvious. Creating great music with two guitars or
saxophones, for example, is not a simple matter. But two musicians attempting to connect with
each other and audiences can produce many more “musical solutions” with tonal
lines than with instruments whose characteristics tend to emphasize sounds and
timbre peripheral to rather than central to most conventional music theory. Although the challenges of duo percussion
performance are real, it is important to interject that the brilliant John Cage
saw percussion as “the future of music.”
It was two improvising percussionists from Chicago--Hamid Drake and Adam
Rudolph--who took on the duo challenge 5/3 at Third Life Studio. They eliminated some potential problems by
having Hamid focus most of his attention during the substantial single set on
the traps (provided by Curt Newton) while his partner emphasized the sounds of
an array of congas and toms. The
dramatic differences sonically gave each musician a greater number of
options. For the most part there would
be no ambiguity regarding who was making what sound. No stepping on toes. In addition, initially there was some
“politeness,” particularly on the part of Hamid, insuring that each musician
would be heard. But polite
playing seldom results in great music.
Therefore it was good to see them become more adventuresome, as each
musician pursued a greater variety of sonics, employing everything from
whistles and other small toys to larger instruments, such as Hamid’s frame
drum. The largest “adjunct” percussion
object of the evening, a piano, was found in the “corner” of the stage by Adam
Rudolph. He chose to pursue primarily
minimalist sonics while Hamid responded with a barrage of cleansing rhythmic
patterns on the kit. A fine contrast of
approaches to the music. About 35
minutes into the set the artists gave the audience what at least some people
came to witness--trap set and congas unleashed in a very personal version of
the classic drum battle. No losers
(except the fans who missed the gig).
Just winners. The final part of
the evening began with Hamid on frame drum conversing with Adam Rudolph’s
sintir while both offered vocal expressions from Africa
and influenced by the culture of Tuva.
Then Adam Rudolph moved to frame drum and other instruments, finally
pursuing the conga set to respond to the superb Hamid Drake frame drum work to
conclude the set. Because they have
worked together for many years (first connecting at age 14, according to
Hamid), it should not have come as a surprise to audience members that the
music ended with the same, simultaneous slam-dam. Followed by much applause. Then Hamid offered shamanistic (a valid
reference considering his life path) words about the importance of the jazz
continuum and the music within all of us that the masters help us find--whether
we perform music or not…
Bloomberg.com announced this month that U.S. Treasury net
borrowing hit $488 billion through March of this year, a record for the first
quarter and $47 billion more than it had estimated. Even though they argued for tax cuts, fiscal
conservatives are not applauding the borrowing.
If that’s not enough, The Los Angeles Times has reported
that the U.S.
economy slowed to an annual rate of 2.3% in the first quarter of this year,
“despite large tax cuts taking effect…
Consumer spending dropped to its lowest level in nearly five years.” Something is trickling down, but it certainly
is not greater income…
The two-set evening opened with a blues and closed with a hymn composed
by the bass player. The performances
were fine (and almost traditional) Kohlhase bookends for an evening of a
variety of works by disparate and engaging composers. They were composers often represented on Charlie
Kohlhase gigs--Charlie and other members of the band as well as Graham Connah,
Elmo Hope, Makanda Ken McIntyre, Roswell Rudd, John Tchicai. Such works are among the strengths and
weaknesses of Charlie’s gigs. The
strengths--the quality of the works primarily--are significant. The weaknesses are rooted in the familiarity
of the works for both musicians and fans.
Execution and listening are less challenging over time. The most obvious solutions to the problem are
new compositions by Charlie (and other band members) or new arrangements of
different works by the same fine composers.
I say that with awareness of Charlie as a person constantly juggling too
many plates. Arranging works of other
composers is time-consuming enough, and writing and arranging brand new
works is even a greater challenge. One
of the factors that helps minimize the problem of sonic predictability is the
unpredictability of instrumentation/personnel on each gig. Typically the Explorers consist of anything
from four to eight musicians--regulars all.
On 5/17 at the Outpost the band was a quintet--Charlie, Seth Meicht,
Daniel Rosenthal, Josiah Reibstein, Aaron Darrell, and Curt Newton. The full-scale “rhythm section” was reduced
by one, and the middle and top brass of the front line were missing
completely. Right away there were
challenges for Seth and Charlie divvying up lead and support lines and
potential spontaneous transcriptions.
The “rhythm section” did its normal thing plus provided composed lines
not written for them (but Curt is a very melodic drummer), and Aaron is very
good at looking over Josiah’s shoulder while Josiah is filling in the
blanks. At one point someone raised
questions about the ambiguity of who was going to handle the closing head. Charlie shrugged and said that they would
figure it out when the end of the piece arrived. That’s not the most comforting direction from
a band leader, but it’s the kind of statement of confidence that works just
fine with top-shelf musicians. And the
seat-of-the-pants flying is the kind of activity that often brings out the best
in the musicians--and the audience. One
recent development that I find to be very healthy (for band members and
listeners alike) is the vocal contributions all around, to a great extent
inspired by the late Roswell Rudd apparently.
Hey, Benny Goodman was no great vocalist, but what would we do without
“Gotta Be This or That”? And then there
was the bass pizzicato with hummed vocal by Aaron. There he is (without bow) doing the Boston tradition via Ray
Perry and Slam Stewart of the vocal an octave above the simultaneous bass
line. At the end of the evening I
thanked Aaron for “carrying on the tradition.”
He responded with two surprises.
First, he had been listening to a recording of Stewart on the way to the
gig. Second, he did not know that the
bassist while at school in Boston
during the early 1930s picked up the technique from Ray Perry. So I guess the octave separation between
voice and bass was just a matter of good “Boston ”
instincts. After all, others--most
notably Major Holley--picked up the idea from Slam Stewart but hummed in the
same octave as the bass line. Or maybe
Aaron’s octave gap was simply a matter of vocal necessity…
Sad news for guitar
fans. The Wall Street Journal
announced that early this month Gibson filed for bankruptcy. Poor management decisions at the top of
Gibson caused the failure of the Nashville-based company. Internationally the company sells more than 20%
of all guitars. Control has been handed
over to bondholders…
A dinner engagement
(however delightful) ran much longer than expected, causing me to show up very
late to the fine double bill 5/9 at the Lily Pad. I assume that all of the double bill was
quite fine because I caught the last part only of the first set by Cutout--Pandelis
Karayorgis, Jorrit Dijkstra, Jeb Bishop, Nate McBride, and Luther Gray--and
what I witnessed was as fine as is to be expected by now. Jorrit and Jeb are great foils for each other
improvisationally, and the “rhythm section” does it all with the charts and
chatter. One of the highlights was how
effectively the two horns and the piano voicings realized the charts as a trio
front line. And there was terrific
busy-ness everywhere in the pieces I heard.
The charts are challenging but engaging, always pushing the solos. No question about it. This is thorny music, but the energy and
focussed engagement of the musicians are so compelling that only a deaf person
would not smell the roses. I was
fortunate enough to catch the entire second set featuring Every Opportunity--Jeb Bishop, Forbes Graham, Abigate Reisman,
Brittany Karlson, Curt Newton, and two-set curator Eric Rosenthal. I confess that the primary draw to this gig
for me was the percussion section. In
March I had the wonderful opportunity to witness a solo improvisation set at
MIT Chapel offered by Curt. And every
blue moon I am lucky enough to catch Curt and Eric present a duo set of
improvised percussion work. So here was
a chance for me to see/hear this superb duo smack in the middle of an
improvising sextet. I was not
disappointed. Sometimes one of them
would be motoring along, setting off sparks while the other percussionist sat
motionless (sometimes with arms folded) but bearing a grin stolen from the
Cheshire cat. Other times the two of
them would be carrying on a percussion discussion, back and forth or
simultaneously, often finishing each other’s sentences. Of course, some of the time they created
simply delightful mayhem. And all of
it--all of it--functioned marvelously as conversation with or support for what
everybody else on stage was doing. The
Boston Brass returned to the stage once again, playing wonderfully separately
and together. Forbes was more subdued
than I can remember. He spent much time
watching and listening. When he did
play, the results also were subdued, spare.
And with it all, there was no diminishment of beauty or constructive
support. It should be of no surprise,
but I’ll mention that a busy first set caused no backing off on the part of
Jeb. He was as energetic and eloquent as
ever. And the two brass remain a solid
team. The unknown quantity for me were
the two string players. I heard that
they had performed with Andria Nicodemou, Jeb, and some other familiar
names. And all of that is good
news. But I confess to knowing nothing
about either of them prior to this gig.
The most obvious thing about the two of them is that they are
young. They did not perform at the level
of the other musicians on the stage during the second set. All of the non-string musicians have
sustained solid reputations for decades.
That’s not a slam. It’s just a
fact. I hasten to add that I found the
work of the violinist and the bassist to be thoughtful and engaging. For example, I really liked some of the
things they didn’t do. I witnessed no
musical attempts to show the audience that either of them graduated at the top
of her class at XYZ Music School, or alternately in a self-effacing manner trying
to hide in the sounds of others on stage, or bowling us over with technique as
a substitute content, or offering a litany of licks from favorite
recordings. And the list could go on. Such are the performance pangs of young jazz
musicians. But there was none of that
here. So the two of them share a good
bit of performance maturity. Older
musicians have fared less well. Each
string player exhibited what might be referred to as--evolving?--musical
personality. Abigale Reisman apparently
loves to trill, employing it as an ornament for a sequence of notes, a
glissando, or a single tone. This she
alternates with a butterfly attack to create a verbal monologue that
occasionally brings to mind the improvised “soundings” of Malcolm
Goldstein. Again, these comments are
descriptions of sonic activities, not criticisms. In the same way there is no criticism of the
work of Brittany Karlson when I say that she exhibits elements of a distinct
musical personality. In fact, one of the
things I liked so much about the bassist’s performance 5/9 was her restraint,
her understated attack on the instrument.
Much more seasoned musicians could learn from her consistent resort to necessity
in making sonic choices. Both string
players have chops and noteworthy decision-making abilities. They respond without pure echo. They join into spontaneous group melody
without playing the predictable. And
more. Did I mention that these two fine
young improvisors are females? It is
such an optimistic joy to witness two young musicians who are both really good
at what they do and also are women. As
any longtime jazz fan knows, some of Boston ’s
finest jazz musicians are women. There
just aren’t enough of them. We have not
done enough to bring young females to gigs to experience the music. And these two string musicians bring the hope
of drawing more young females to the music.
It’s the future…
For what may be the
last Opensound series concert ever Lou Bunk 5/25 brought into Third Life Studio
what might be thought of as some of the best music/musicians who for more than
a decade (since approximately 2005) have been presented on the series. First up was a new composition from current
Maine-iac Steve Norton with electronics help from Michael Rosenstein. Steve for some time (since college days?) has
had a fascination (obsession?) with Samuel Beckett. He and I have exchanged differences and
agreements about Beckett’s works for several years. So when he told me he had written a
composition, “No once in pastless now,” derived from Beckett’s late work, Worstward
Ho, I had some moments of concern.
I say all this with the understanding that I mention Steve’s work in
some detail (in spite of the fact that it is a composed work) because long-time
fans of the post-Ayler scene in Boston
think of Steve’s contributions as those of an improvisor. Such folks may want to know about his latest
through-composed work. Therefore I
mention that the through-composed work consists of a series of “repeated”
(actually almost repeated) minimalist lines on contra-alto clarinet
supported by an electronic drone pulse initially and then a variety of thumps
and crunches before returning to the pulse and other subdued sounds. The thing about the work that works
is that it grapples successfully with Beckett’s minimalist language
sonically--not an easy assignment. Keep
in mind that Beckett searched for language that would function with the
distilled clarity of music. The presentation
was theatrical, both visual and sonic. A
single fluorescent tube provided the stark (Beckett-inspired?) light in an
otherwise almost completely dark room.
But perhaps the light’s primary function was as the source of a constant
60-cycle buzz throughout the entire work.
“Ungrounded” ground for the music.
Although I have enjoyed performances by Andrea Pensado in group
contexts, I much prefer her work as a soloist.
That thought resurfaced as I watched and listened to Andrea’s solo
electronics and amplified voice during the second set of the evening. Basically I cannot imagine anyone else
feeding her better ideas sonically than she feeds herself. Part of the reason Andrea is so effective as
a loner
is that--as in the case of the 5/25 gig--she thinks in terms of predetermined
structures into which she works out her wonderful improvisations. She opened with a signature barrage followed
by a reading of a philosophical prose/poetry statement about universal
self-realization and love. A two-part
opus, each part quite distinct technically and aesthetically, but holding the
light to two angles of the same subject (at least that’s my take on the
experience). There is much more to it,
of course. For example, it may be
somewhat helpful to think about the first part of her performance by using
analogy. She worked her way through “whispered”
vocal utterances over a range of electronic sounds from near-inaudible to
ear-shattering. And all of it is a journey. There is nothing static about her process,
and you cannot help but be carried (dragged?) along with her. Think of the journey at the heart of any
major Andrei Tarkovsky film--tension, foreboding, the encounter with the
“non-existent” other. And you cannot
turn your head away. Blown out of my
seat at Third Life Studio but transfixed.
Electronics man and cellist (and more recently filmmaker) Vic Rawlings
and percussionist Tim Feeney brought a completely different set of improvised
sonics with them as part three of the evening.
For example, any type of pre-determined architecture would be unthinkable
to them in their “experimental” pursuit of improvisation. In case it is not clear by now, there is no
one best
form of post-Ayler music. There are many
paths to Realization. The two musicians
are well matched aesthetically and instrumentally. Tim pursues “explicit” vibrations via conventional
and non-conventional resources and techniques.
The sounds Feeney fans perhaps most closely associate with him are
produced via vibrating drum head--skin (human) on skin (drum head) and other
tools on drum head. Tangible. Acoustic.
Playing off that effectively is the variety of “electric” sounds
produced by Vic’s electronics and connected equipment. It is as if the traditional cello has been
abandoned and re-purposed. Throughout
the set there was almost no use of the conventional pizzicato or arco cello
technique. On those rare occasions when
Vic drew the bow across the instrument, the sounds came from “off-limits” parts
of the strings, well below the bridge.
The searching of this duo was an apt setup for the final part of the
evening, an echo of the music of the late Opensound anchor, Lou Cohen. As fans of his work know, Lou was a student
of John Cage (and was present at the famous “25-Year Retrospective Concert” at New York ’s Town Hall in
1958). In addition, Lou’s mind and music
were full of the math and science of MIT where he had been an undergrad. He thought of himself as a composer
primarily, but I always preferred his electronics pursuits as an
improvisor. To celebrate Lou Cohen and
his contributions to the growth of the Opensound series and music in general as
we approach the fifth anniversary of his passing, Lou Bunk closed out the
evening by playing the recording of Lou Cohen’s Symphony 9 (from Lou
Cohen - Music on Pogues CD
21071-s). It is a single work from a
three-CD set, the only commercially available recording of Lou Cohen
compositions. There is another example
of Lou’s creativity, this time in a two-CD set of improvisations with Steve
Norton and Matt Samolis (also produced just before Lou’s passing). The release does not even have a proper title
or number. So, if you want to obtain a
copy of the material, you will have to collar Steve or Matt for
information. Such artifacts help us to
understand how much we have lost through what we have gained…
I am happy/sad to report that I witnessed no jazz
performances during the month of April.
I caught some other musics but no jazz.
Before my two-plus week visit to Belize Guatemala Honduras Tikal Antigua , Guatemala Bonampak Mexico Peabody Museum Bonampak
As the group of us moved through the museum, Samuel
Franco showed us a wide array of ancient and colonial (e.g., marimbas)
instruments. But the instruments that really caught my attention
were the slit drums (see the image below).
The instruments are known particularly to post-Ayler jazz
musicians. Perhaps the Boston-area jazz
musician most associated with the use of the slit drum is Bob Gullotti. When I mentioned to the Museum Director that
slit drums are used today in jazz performance he was surprised. I could see him make a mental note of that
fact.
But that was just the beginning for slit drums. On one of our visits to Copán, we came across a
sculpture of a slit drum. In other
words, more than a thousand years ago the music of the slit drum (and other
sacred instruments) was so important that the instrument was sculpted as were
the stelae and other sacred elements of Mayan culture. Below is a side view of a sculpture of a slit
drum.
The image below is a photo of the same slit-drum sculpture taken from above.
Live volcanoes.
As anyone living in Hawaii Guatemala Lake Atitlan Guatemala Antigua ,
taking in the view.
A friend on the trip shared her phone photo of the
same volcano at night, as shown below. At night you can see the red glow of the magma.
Jobs data for March were
posted this month and noted in The Washington Post. The jobless rate since the last months of the
Obama administration has been just above 4% and remains there. One of the most absurd claims by both major
political parties (and Presidential candidates) is that they would create more
jobs. It wasn’t the jobs that Americans
needed. It was greater income. So it is not surprising that the unemployment
rate remains extremely low. The
Post claims today there is “a position open for every unemployed person
in the country.” But the big jobs
problem remains. Since March 2017 hourly
pay has grown only 2.7 percent. A person
making $100 per day can’t scrape that increase into a Happy Meal, let alone
feed and clothe the kids. On top of
that, we have started feeling the inflation.
I have not seen anything that definitively points to increasing
petroleum costs (up more than two bits per gallon during my trip to Central America ) or the fact that someone has to pay for
the S&P growth and resulting stockholder payoffs and the “huge tax cuts”
for everybody except the middle and lower classes. But everyday costs are going up. Oddly I noticed it first in the fruit &
veggie department at my local Stop and Shop right after I returned home. In the couple weeks I was gone, bananas went
from 39¢ to 49¢ per pound, oranges went from $1 each to 4 for $5, Macs went
from $1.29 to $1.49 per pound, and Grannies went from 1.49 per pound to $1.79
per pound. Hey, somebody has to pay for
all the economic “improvement.”…
Cecil Taylor died 4/5 at age
89. He had been in poor health for the
past several years. He was a giant and
one of a small handful of original pioneers of the new music of the late 1950s
and early 1960s. We music lovers in the Boston Antioch College Ohio Boston
According to PasteMagazine.com (as mentioned in the
4/6 issue of The Week, p. 32), U.S. U.S.
March
During the evening of the Explorers Club--Charlie
Kohlhase, Seth Meicht, Daniel Rosenthal, Josiah Reibstein, and Curt Newton--gig 3/15 at the Outpost Charlie asked
Josiah Reibstein if he would like to play a solo intro to Charlie’s “No Such
Explorers.” Band members watched and
listened as Josiah offered an intricate and extended free solo, filled with
oblique references to the work’s primary theme. It’s the kind of solo that young,
enthusiastic tuba players of all types should have been present for. It was not merely the astonishing technical
facility on such an elephantine instrument.
Impressive as that was, it was a small part of what the students should
witness. How important it would have
been for them to take in the unfolding creativity of ideas as a torrent
ultimately forming a wondrous arc, making way for the first notes of the
composition. Throughout most of the
evening Josiah showed us why the tuba became the instrument of choice for
certain contexts, when the bass fiddle was left at home back in the first
decades of jazz. No, the bass and the
tuba are not interchangeable as rhythm section instruments, but the absence of
acoustic bass on this gig did give us a fine chance to catch Josiah wearing
several hats. He is a fine team player,
and his work with Curt was one of the most compelling instrumental aspects of
the evening of original works (mostly) and fine borrowings from Elmo Hope, John
Tchicai, and Roswell Rudd. Although there
were many different combinations of players doing terrific things all evening,
the moments I found most fascinating were those when Josiah and Curt would
establish a ground--perhaps busy, almost pure melody, or “acoustic bass” and
drums support. It is the latter that
produced the most distinctive results.
The basic effect of that tuba and drums rhythm section work was an
in-your-face type of transparency. That
support combination made whatever was going on with the front-line horns
project with a special type of clarity.
And when one of those horns was out alone soloing in front of the “bass
and drums,” the spotlight was more intense than in the case of larger
instrumental resources. And the best
news is that the spotlight was good for those improvisors. So, if you want to know how fine an
improvisor Seth is, 3/15 at the Outpost was the place to find out. As it was true for the work of Dan and of the
leader. The Explorers show up to gigs
time and again in numbers from solo to beyond octet, and for the most part they
are working with the same charts (typically intended for seven or eight
musicians). The result is the need for
on-the-spot adjustments. The
“adjustments” almost invariably result in stunning creative problem
solving. There has been no better
example of how remarkable that is than the 3/15 Outpost gig…
The use of computer-generated sonics to
create or perform music has been around for decades. But how many decades? According to an issue of Archaeology (March/April
2017, pp. 9-10) that I came across recently, such activities go all the way
back almost to the very beginning of what we think of as computers. You’ve got a bunch of people in the late
1940s trying to work out concepts such as stored computer programs, and yet
they make time to come up with computer sounds.
Alan Turing’s Mark I generated its first “notes” in 1948, using a
“hooter to provide auditory feedback.”
In 1951 Christopher Strachey programmed the Mark II to play “God Save
the King.” In that same year the BBC
recorded that anthem and two other tunes generated by the Mark II, “Baa Baa
Black Sheep” and “In the Mood.” Recently
Jack Copeland and James Long studied the recording and determined there were
some flaws (mostly due to recording speed errors). In any case, they fixed the recording which
originally was made in a studio using microphones to pick up the sounds. The result of using a microphone means that
the recording captures both computer sounds and human reactions, including a
pun on the title of the Glenn Miller theme song. You can hear the cleaned up recording at the Archaeology
web site…
Yo-Yo
Ma gave the Compton Lecture 3/19 at MIT, emphasizing the role of culture in
society and its important evolving nature.
After the lecture and during a Q&A session the renowned cellist
talked about various ways in which the students can bring about an “enlightened
citizenry.” According to MIT’s The
Tech (3/22, p .12) his final suggestion was “In the meantime, ‘party
hard.’”…
If
you measure music by the pound, Leap of Faith performances during the past
couple years are the gigs for you. The
3/24 music at Third Life Studio is a perfect case in point. The program consisted of four 15-minute improvisations
by quartets and a quintet from the full orchestra followed by 50 minutes’ worth
of the full orchestra. So the big
question is whether the evening was an endless sonic display or a
cornucopia. Mostly the latter, primarily
due to some astute decisions by organizer-programmer Dave Peck (AKA PEK). Trying to put together and lead a large
free-improvising ensemble is an enormous challenge. Even the Peter Brötzmann Tentet born in Chicago (typically
consisting of eleven or more musicians) had its weak moments--in spite of the
fact that the lineup consisted of international all-stars. Peter initially dealt with such a large and
diverse group of people by using charts written by band members but mostly by
himself (e.g., see two versions of the ensemble’s interpretation of Stonewater
on OKKA OD12032 and OD12043). Eventually
Peter dropped the charts. One of the
productive ideas that Peter incorporated in concerts was the use of small unit
sets of music preceding or plugged into the middle of the full orchestra
performance. It seems that Dave has come
to similar conclusions regarding Leap of Faith Orchestra concerts. Although having four small unit 15-minute
concerts before the 50-minute blowout does result in a long (sometimes
fatiguing) evening of music, the benefits are significant. Band members get a chance to warm up their improvisatory
chops before the larger challenge takes place, and audience members have the
opportunity to witness more clearly the sonic personality of each musician in
the instrumentally intimate context. The
first set consisted of a quintet--Dan O’Brien, Eric Dahlman, Zack Bartolomei,
Bob Moores, and Eric Zinman--that played Eric Zinman’s aggressive keys off a
fine series of dances by brass, reeds, and toys. The choice of instrumental group in this case
may have had more than warmup implications.
Some of the highlights of the full orchestra performance came to us from
impressive spontaneous brass-reed ensemble sections. The second set was an interesting mix of
relative newcomers to the LoF family--Adrienne Schoenfeld and Steve
Proviser--and musicians--Glynis Lomon and Yuri Zbitnov--whose free sonics work
together goes back to the last decades of the 20th century. And with that mix there was the resonance
between the bass and the cello throwing information to the brass and drums, who
found much to discuss sonically. Glynis
and PEK are co-leaders of an ensemble that goes back to at least the 1990s, and
on the third set they were paired with bassist Adrienne Schoenfeld once again
and Silvain Castellano. The twist here
(an interesting one) was that all four musicians opened the set by playing
Aquasonics. During the past couple years
Glynis’ performances on the instrument seems to have created some type of
Aquasonic fever in the Boston
area. On 3/24 it looked like it was
raining Aquasonics on stage. Business
for musician and Aquasonic craftsman Jackson Krall must be booming. Eventually we got to hear the strings in
conversation with the joyously melodic Silvain Castellano and Dave Peck. For the fourth set Eric Woods and Grant
Beale’s “electric” sounds welcomed the return to the stage of PEK and Yuri
Zbitnov. Everyone in the group was loose
and open. One of the highlights of the
set was the conversation between Messrs. Woods and Zbitnov about the sounds
coming from the reeds and guitar. The
complete orchestra filled the stage for the final 50-minute adventure. As in the case of Peter Brötzmann and the
major change in his Tentet in the new century, Dave Peck made the decision to
show up without charts. I did not ask
him about that significant decision. For
example, I do not know whether the band rehearsed with charts but were told to
leave the paper home. But I suspect that
there was no chart at all for this event.
Dave did offer a single direction to the band before the start of the
performance: “Lay out for a third of the time.”
In other words, each musician was supposed to play for 50 minutes but
choose approximately 16½ minutes of that time to take a break from
playing. There was no further comment,
but one suspects that each musician could choose to stop playing for a stretch
of 16½ minutes or stop for six minutes and then later for 10½ minutes. Or some other workable combination. Nevertheless, although I did not put a
stopwatch to each musician, I think it is fair to say that fewer than half the
musicians did not lay out for so much as 16½ minutes. But Dave’s directive did have a constructive
impact. People did lay out for at least
some of the time. The result was a
greater variety of sonic events and perhaps enhanced listening on the part of
the people “resting.” There were fine
sub-section and individual solo moments scattered impressively throughout the
stage for the duration, including especially fine improvised brass-reed
ensemble lines. Several times that
sub-section offered extended slow fanfares that permeated the other ensemble
activity to great effect. One of the
highlights of the evening occurred when the brass and reeds joined forces for a
staccato attack that lifted the music almost literally off the stage. Fine.
So many elements came together with the help of the “lay out time.” But maybe there was an exception. Yuri Zbitnov did lay out conscientiously and
at constructive moments. Nevertheless I
had the nagging feeling that the “lay out” rule should have had Yuri as an exception. His motoring, chatter, and pops invariably
made musical activity everywhere on stage sound more meaningful. But maybe that is just a comment on how good
the ears throughout the stage were. So
it was quite an evening for people who measure music by the pound. But there was much to savor even for those on
a diet…
Going back to the first years of our nation
(with the possible exception of Washington )
all of our Presidents have been attacked and ridiculed by opponents and
commentators. As anyone alive and
breathing well knows, our current President is no exception. Some attacks have been humorous (primarily on
late night television) and others have been political (certainly coming from
Democrats and even some Republicans).
But I am unaware of any searing anti-Trump vitriol that can match
comments from former CIA Director John Brennan, as included in several media
stories on 3/17. Attorney General Jeff
Sessions, at the behest of the President, fired FBI Deputy Director Andrew
McCabe just two days before McCabe was set to retire (causing the FBI Deputy
Director financial loss and other problems).
In response to those actions Brennan wrote publicly to Trump:
“When the
full extent of your venality, moral turpitude, and political corruption becomes
known, you will take your rightful place as a disgraced demagogue in the
dustbin of history. You may scapegoat Andy McCabe, but you will not destroy America America
No doubt the Brennan attack sent White House
staffers scurrying for their lexicons…
February
Mark Shanahan reported in the Boston Globe online 2/26 (but 2/27 in the newspaper) that “After
more than 40 years Ryles Jazz Club is closing its doors.” Such news is not unexpected in these times of
disappearing music venues of all sorts.
But there is a jolt to it all nevertheless. Long gone are the days when jazz clubs would
close frequently but almost immediately be replaced by another. Openings and closings on 52nd Street New York Boston 76
Warrenton Street Copley
Square Cape
Ann for about a decade. But
the most typical pattern was the opening and closing of a club to be replaced
by another somewhere else in town, as in the case of Jonathan Swifts, Lulu
White’s, Tinker’s, and countless others.
The problem today is that, when a club closes, it is not replaced by
some other club in short order. If we
search for true jazz clubs--i.e., clubs known primarily as jazz clubs with food
rather than restaurants with live background music--then we might argue that
the only true jazz clubs in Boston and Cambridge are Ryles, Wally’s, Scullers,
and the Regattabar. When Ryles is gone,
two of the remaining three true jazz clubs will be the two clubs with hotel
subsidies. It does not mean that a fan
has only three places to go to for hearing live jazz. There are dozens of such venues in the Boston Boston Boston
Republicans and Democrats over the years have espoused
different political philosophies in general.
But in some ways the parties are quite similar. For example, both parties include vocal and
influential sub-groups. One such
Democratic group, the Dixiecrats, was so upset by the party’s anti-racist civil
rights activities that the Dixiecrats left the party. Those Dixiecrats have become the very core of
the Republican Party today. But the
Republican Party has its traditionally strong factions also. Although almost all Republicans believe what
is good for business is good for America Middle East from Libertarians
in Congress. Republicans cower at the
words and glances of the President.
Things have gone so far in that direction that more and more we hear
Republican leaders defer comments about action in Congress until the President
makes his scheduled statements on the subject.
The President always is assumed to be his party’s leader. But until now party members never have been
the President’s minions. It does seem
that members of the Republican Party are intimidated by the Great Disruptor. It is pretty obvious that Donald Trump takes
great joy in stating a political position to rile one political group only to
buy into the opposite position a day or two later to anger and frustrate
another group. His recent “round table”
discussion on gun control infuriated pro-NRA politicians and temporarily
brought great joy to Democrats (and 70% of the U.S.
Gray Sargent, who took the innovations of Christian
and Montgomery and developed his own voice, for decades has been one of my
favorite straight-ahead jazz musicians.
Today he is known primarily as Tony Bennett’s guitarist of choice. And while I applaud the singer’s choice of
band mates, the public’s enthusiasm for the great pop singer has meant the
development of two problems for the guitarist and the guitarist’s fans. The first problem is rooted in the fact that
for most music fans Gray Sargent is known as “Tony Bennett’s guitarist.” While that moniker is a fine thing in itself
and certainly is connected to rewarding playing opportunities for Gray, it
means that most music fans do not recognize Gray as a guitarist who has been
great for decades, performing regularly since the 1970s with Illinois Jacquet,
Dave McKenna, Roy Eldridge, Benny Carter, Jo Jones, Dizzy Gillespie, Buddy
Tate, and others of comparable stature.
He performed frequently at Lulu White’s and the Regattabar when those
venues were truly great jazz clubs. Even
Harvard--in one of that school’s moments of real jazz acumen--hired Gray as
Artist in Residence in the late 1980s.
But admittedly his current absence in the jazz circuit may to some
extent be due to the lack of front-line personnel capable of challenging
him. The second problem is related to
his disappearance from the consciousness of jazz fans. He just does not play enough gigs for those
of us who are lucky enough to know just how good he is. And so I jump to take advantage of his annual
performances in Methuen America
Speaking of the Sahara Club, it still carries on a
fine tradition that was common in jazz clubs years ago in the Boston
As part of the mess that followed 9/11 Congress in
2005 decided that we need special IDs to fly in planes and go anywhere our
government is. It passed the REAL ID
law. REAL DUMB. It is a law that before 9/11 and presumably
more recently the ACLU and the Libertarian wing of the Republican Party would
have been having fits over. However the
subject has been all but invisible in recent years. Even though the law has been around for
almost fifteen years, its implementation has been slow. I didn’t even know about the law until this
month. Slow to wake up, the law
nevertheless is potent and ugly. Before
the October 1, 2020
deadline you need to get a REAL ID if you want to enter a government facility,
such as airports. Your current driver’s
license will not do the trick on October 2, 2020 .
Rest assured, in 2021 the guy sitting next to you on the plane is a fine
citizen with a REAL ID card. Or a
terrorist with a REAL ID card obtained via rigorous security measures. Of course, such terrorist breaches will be
rare. It is no piece of cake to obtain a
REAL ID, particularly if you do not already have a U.S. Massachusetts Norway
The 2/16 concert at Paine Hall celebrating the life of
Geri Allen was identified as Pianos for
Geri and featured the work of four well-known pianists in duo and solo
improvised performances. Music curator
Vijay Iyer and Kris Davis opened the evening performing together on two facing
pianos. Both pianists are highly
regarded by critics, but the sonic encounter generally was a
disappointment. Kris, perhaps seeing her
role as a “guest,” decided to establish a ground for Vijay Iyer’s playing. That idea started out well. She moved the support rhythmically and
otherwise up and down the piano effectively, and her partner reveled in what
she fed him. But he never really opened
the door for her. She chose not to fight
his solo flight. On a couple occasions
Iyer paused, apparently giving her space to develop her own out front
statement. In each case Kris took
advantage of the opportunity by creating new lines of engaging beauty. However, as soon as she completed the
beginning of her melodic statement, Iyer emphatically would present his own
loud and busy line and continue in that direction. This sequence of events happened a couple
times, resulting in his “solo” using her evolving line as more Kris Davis
support. Forget trading melodic lines or
even a neo-Bach simultaneous two-part invention. To her credit, rather judiciously Kris
accepted her supporting role and let the curator enjoy his monologue with
accompaniment. After all, it really is
his gig. Fortunately the duo was followed
by one of the highlights of the evening.
It sometimes is difficult to know which Jason Moran will show up to a
gig, the man of “big ideas” or the terrific pianist. The audience was witness to the latter. The extended pensive opening with roots in the
church and the blues no doubt was a meditation on his memory of Geri Allen. In such affecting moments it is difficult for
me as a witness to avoid reading explicit references in the music. From time to time there were bold strikes at
the piano, sometimes with the side of his right hand. I heard all of that as anger at the loss. Perhaps I was projecting too much, but the
experience was powerful and direct.
Jason remained onstage where he was joined by Craig Taborn for a second
duo session of the evening. Like many
fans, I have witnessed a number of piano duos and piano four hands
performances, but through all of it the necessity of compatibility never
occurred to me. I suspect I never
witnessed such a need because the pianists I caught always were on the same
page aesthetically. But here the problem
of aesthetic incompatibility was on display for all to witness at Paine
Hall. Here were two pianists of
unquestionably vast technical facility and enough critical praise to fill
volumes. And yet, try as the musicians
might, no music came out of those pianos.
No sentences were begun by one musician and successfully completed by
the other. Neither piano commented
brilliantly about the creations taking place on the other. There was no single overwhelming statement
made by all four hands. There was a lot
of thunder near the conclusion of the duo offering (in frustration?) but not
much engaging music. After hiding under
a bushel in the opening duo of the evening, Kris Davis returned to the stage
for her solo performance. So far I have
witnessed her music about a half dozen times in four different cities with a
variety of notable musicians. I am a
fan. Yes, she has chops, but only as a
means to substantive ends. The substance
of what she plays overrides all other considerations for her--at least that’s
how I hear her. Her solo performance
2/16 offered more reinforcement for what has been obvious all along. One really can’t describe the beauty of the
simultaneous lines and rhythms she sustained through most of her improvisation. She offered thunder and light in a wonderful
arc of sound. And then space. Poignant space, apparently as a final
improvisatory statement about Geri Allen.
The duo of Vijay Iyer and Craig Taborn took the stage next. As previous performances have suggested, they
are simpatico. This duo performance ran
way too long, but it reinforced my “discovery” about the need for strong
aesthetic links between duo improvising pianists. This duo was the most successful of the
evening. These two pianists heard,
reacted to, and reveled in each other’s music.
It made me want to hang around to witness the Davis-Moran duo
performance. But… The Iyer-Taborn duo improvisation ended the
first half of the evening. Almost an
hour and half of ups and downs. It was a
fine celebration. I looked up at the
ceiling of Paine Hall and saw Geri Allen looking down on the event and
smiling. I thought it would be good for
me to depart while she still was smiling…
As some readers may know, the new federal tax bill is
designed to make Republicans look good and rip off the bottom 80% family income
households. The delayed Trump signing of
the bill (remember, he didn’t sign the bill at the photo op right after the
bill passed) insured that certain parts of the bill would not go into effect
until after the mid-term elections. I
hope you are following this. There are
tax breaks for the bottom 80% that go into effect immediately, the result of
which in some cases may cause the bottom 80% to thank Republicans for the
breaks by voting for Republicans in the mid-term elections. But the clever wealthy Republican legislators
know when to give and when to take away. The benefits for the wealthy do not disappear
after the mid-term election, but some important ones for the bottom 80%
do. For example, the tax bill changes
the medical expenses floor to 7½ % for 2017 and 2018. So if you have a series of expensive medical
procedures in 2017 or 2018, you can deduct qualified expenses that are over 7½
% of your gross adjusted income from your federal taxes for the year. After 2018 (i.e., after the Republicans get
those seats in the House and the Senate) the floor for the deduction jumps back
to 10 % of gross adjusted income. In
other words, if you are contemplating very expensive surgery, have the surgery
now. And don’t forget to thank the
Republicans for bait and switch. There’s
more. According to the 2/23 issue of The Week (p. 31), the deficit-driven tax
bill will not only hit future generations with financial burdens almost beyond
comprehension, but in the short term it helps the top 20% earners and screws
the rest of us. Morgan Stanley polled
corporate analysts and found that 13% of the corporate tax cut savings will go
to employees and 43% will go to investors.
The rich look after their own, and that’s no surprise. Even the poor look after their own. Nevertheless, this corporate behavior
demonstrates once again that when the government employs trickle-down
economics, the money does not trickle down…
It was something of a
recovery room 2/27 at the Outpost when Steve Lantner, Forbes Graham, Allan
Chase, and Luther Gray showed up. Forbes
had had a severe cold for two weeks, but he claimed he had fully
recovered. Steve had experienced a
troubling injury and also claimed that he was fully recovered. They certainly looked fine and--as the evening
demonstrated--they could play music as beautifully as ever. Caused by ailment and recovery time or not,
there was something different and distinctive about the music 2/27. The first set opened with lines talking back
and forth, recalling some of Braxton’s small ensemble work of the mid to late
1980s, but it soon evolved. Sonically
the evening was remarkably evocative visually.
As I sat there I kept seeing clips from imagined films. No story line or plot. Just sequences of events. People walking or talking or
contemplating. Much of it had to do with
travel--by car with the flicker of oncoming headlights or by train with
odd-sounding clickety clacks. At one
point Allen picked up his soprano sax and I found myself in a Middle Eastern
bazaar. As I thought about such things,
it hit me that no member of the band likely was thinking such things and might
have responded to any such suggestion with raised eyebrows. Still caught in the world of cinema, I
pictured the Maltese Falcon’s Gutman
offering his sales pitch to Sam Spade and pausing briefly before saying, “You
think me crazy.” But instead of talking
about cinematic music, Allen and I spent much of the break discussing the
better and worse moments in the 40+ year history of the now disappearing Ryles. The half-time conversation did not alter the
direction of the music. More cinematic
marvels. It was something of a wonderful
travelogue. Maybe Forbes and Steve
needed a musical trip to accelerate recovery further. Or maybe everyone on the bandstand was merely
enjoying the journey as much as the apparently mesmerized audience. Steve at the end of it all announced, “One
more short one,” and there was a burst of energy transformed into a rolling
storm that turned out to be one of those screen-filling Sergio Leone steam
engines that eventually--shortly after the opening of Once Upon a Time in the West--lumbered into the station, crawled,
and came to a hissing stop. To be
followed by a final single crack of gunfire.
Everyone in the audience applauded right through the credits…
I wonder if somewhere lurking beneath my Joe Average
veneer there might be a genuine spark of creativity. Maybe stranger things are true. After all, I revel in the sonic creations
that take place at the better jazz gigs.
To enjoy it as much as I do, perhaps I have some insight into the
improvisational process. For example,
the more one understands the process of English language communication, the
more that person will get knocked out by the plays of Shakespeare, Shaw, and Beckett. On the other hand, all of the jazz and stuff
about creative thinking most likely is wishful thinking on my part--sparked by
a bit of research that caught my eye. It
seems that, according to Science News
(2/13/18 , p. 5),
neuroscientists at Wesleyan--with applause from Harvard neuroscientist Roger
Beaty--have determined that jazz musicians have higher “creative aptitudes”
than classical musicians and non-musicians.
The researchers believe improvisation is the factor that separates the
jazz musicians from the others because of their “out-of-the-box thinking on
creativity tests.” The researchers
suggest that compared the other test subjects, the improvisors kicked butt
creatively. I’m sure that news is very
exciting to all jazz musicians reading this Journal, but not so fast. Think about it. The research was done in Middletown , Connecticut Middletown
January
Due to a set of
unfortunate circumstances 1/16 at the Outpost I was able to catch only the
first improvisation of the evening by the new Jacob William
Ensemble--with Jeb Bishop, Forbes Graham, Pandelis Karayorgis, and Eric Rosenthal. I was in aesthetic agony as I walked out the
door because what I heard was so good. A
front line of trombone and trumpet is so unusual in jazz that I’m tempted to
refer to the ensemble as a “brass band.”
There are few bands with that instrumentation but one--almost forgotten
band it seems today--does stand out in my memory. The Clark Terry-Bob Brookmeyer Quintet I
believe was one of the best jazz combos of the 1960s, and they even had a
pretty strong jazz fan base at the time.
A nice sound with fine solos. So
it was a kick to hear (however briefly) superb musicians do such fine things
with essentially the same instrumentation.
There are important differences, of course. The Terry-Brookmeyer group featured
flugelhorn as well as trumpet in the high brass and Mr. Brookmeyer played a
valve trombone. Perhaps most distinctive
is that the earlier group was making music in and of the 1960s and using
charts. Jacob’s new ensemble improvises
freely and is very much of the now. Of
course, the strongest link between these two double-brass ensembles is the
superb quality of the music. Jacob’s
quintet consists of five of the best post-Ayler musicians in the Boston area (i.e., or
anywhere). That means individual
contributions are worth focusing on at any location on the bandstand, and group
awareness is so profound that taking in ensemble interaction at the most
superficial level to the deepest is a boundless joy. Perhaps the most engaging moments involve the
interactions of two or three band members--dances and dialogues. For example, Pandelis reciting poetry via
piano in the context of poetry fans on bass and drums. And there’s that amazing double brass. Sometime it’s a brilliant dialogue of two
brass orators. Sometimes it’s two
instruments in one with each musician not merely finishing each other’s
sentences but rather in rapid fire alternating syllables. And on and on. In other words, these five guys hit the
ground running. I walked out of the gig
in pain for the sounds I would not hear but in a state of joy for the sounds I
did...
We have been in a situation of diminishing returns for fans
of great straight-ahead jazz. That fact
is not news to anyone old enough to remember the classic combos of the 1950s
and the 1960s. All of the great swing,
bop, and immediate post-bop jazz greats were born prior to World War Two. And the few younger convincing straight-ahead
musicians seem to have a cutoff birth date of around mid-century (e.g., Gray
Sargent and Jerry Bergonzi). Therefore
it is not surprising to find me at nonagenarian Paul Broadnax gigs. It was for this and other reasons that the
1/21 Joe Hunt Trio performance in the Lily Pad listings caught my eye. It is not simply that Joe and Yuka Hamano
Hunt are married, but that they have played a lot together. Joe, of course, has played with just about
everybody including Bill Evans in 1966 and 1967--years before many current Boston area musicians
were born. So, when the trio played
Evans’ “Peri’s Scope,” they had a pretty good idea of what they were doing. But it was not exclusively a matter of Joe’s
track record or the sonic empathy between piano and drums. Joe had made the wise decision to fill out
the trio with Keala Kaumeheiwa, one of the most in-demand acoustic bassists in
the area. They heard each other
beautifully, resulting in often exhilarating interplay and mutual support in
presenting mostly jazz classics and nuggets from the Great American Song
Book. Their “Gone with the Wind” tribute
to classic Argo period Ahmad Jamal was an evocative essay that never fell into
plastic mimicry. Most of the rest of the
two sets of music was an array of tunes we all know and love played by three
musicians working out their unity, their group voice. If I understood Joe correctly, the band had
only one real rehearsal, a brief one. If
so, the results were especially impressive.
I hope they keep doing it. I look
forward to watching/hearing the process…
When Ken Vandermark was an undergraduate student in Montreal he also led a
fairly successful jazz trio there and even recorded his first LP with that
group. One of the members of the trio
was guitarist Geof Lipman. In 1986 when
the scholastics were completed, Ken returned to the Boston area, and Geof came along with the
shared idea of creating a band together.
Through Bob Gullotti Ken met Curt Newton and Lombard Street (the appearance of the
famous San Francisco street
suggesting the nature of the music the trio would perform) was created. It was the first jazz ensemble Ken led in the
Boston area
since his high school days. The trio
lasted (with two subsequent musicians taking on guitar responsibilities)
through part of 1989. Lombard Street recorded two cassettes (a
common album medium during the documentation transition from LP to CD
format). Geof moved to San Francisco . Ken moved to Chicago in 1989. Curt, of course, remained here and has become
one of the more highly regarded percussionists in town. Without prior plans, Geof and Curt
independently decided to show up at the Stone in lower Manhattan to catch a Ken Vandermark
performance. The reunion photo below of
Geof, Curt, and Ken was taken 1/4 at
Boulton & Watt in the East
Village
The classic Steve Lantner Quartet showed up in its entirety--Steve, Allan Chase, Joe Morris, and Luther Gray--1/23 at the Outpost. Before the first set there were cheerful greetings among band members and fans. But overall the mood of the venue seemed to be subdued. I got the feeling that the weather had something to do with it. For the past three weeks inside Rte. 495 the thermometer had jumped repeatedly from below zero to 50˚ (F). We had heavy snow, light snow, with and without 50-plus MPH winds. Fog. Flooded streets. Downed trees. And, of course, rain. It had rained heavily all day on 1/23, and at the scheduled start of the music the rain seemed to be subsiding. It is not the different kinds of weather, all of which are common in southern
The February Downbeat hit the stands early this
month. It is the annual “Great Jazz
Venues” issue. I have no complaint about
the Massachusetts
jazz venues included in the magazine, but the lack of inclusion of other venues
is puzzling. The publication seems to
list the same locations every year without checking out what is really
happening. The venue omitted once again
that is most puzzling is the Outpost. I
don’t think this monthly Journal would be even half as long
as it is without the Outpost. Maybe Rob,
Jocko, and the rest of the jazz bookers in the state who present significant
talent and whose venues are ignored need to get on the magazine’s case. Of course, recent policy changes at the
publication--particularly dropping John Corbett’s contributions--are even more
puzzling. Fortunately one can find
occasional work by our own Fred Bouchard in the magazine, as in the case of his
nice celebration of the 70th birthday of Wally’s (p. 59)…
The Hassels--no doubt a pun on the last name of guitarist
Terrie Hessels (AKA Terrie Ex of The Ex) but more pointedly a reference to the
hassles/difficulty musicians from foreign countries experience trying to get
into the U.S. --performed
1/8 at the Sherborn incarnation of the Alternate Space. Readers of this Journal over the years
have some idea of how the Musicians Union through its impact on visa
regulations for foreign musicians has made it near impossible for creative
musicians to come to the U.S.
to perform. For example, the paperwork
(in itself a nightmare) to process a temporary visa for a musician to perform
in the U.S.
typically costs $4,000.00. That may not
be a big deal to the Berlin Philharmonic, but it is an insurmountable barrier
to a post-Ayler musician from Europe who wants
to come to the U.S.
to perform. “How many break-even gigs do
you have to do to make $4,000.00 on a tour of the U.S. ?” he asked with tongue in
cheek. The Hassels, a quartet of one
U.S.-based musician and three Europeans is a classic example of an impossible
touring situation. I will not go into
details to describe how the three musicians ended up on a multi-gig tour of the
U.S.
snow belt in winter without paying such a ridiculous cost, but you can guess
that the problems are significant. Let’s
just say that the kind generosity of the Norwegian government is not enough to
make up the difference financially. The
group arrived at the venue in Sherborn with fine support from the folks at the
Alternate Space, Nate McBride (providing acoustic bass), Jeb Bishop (guitar
amplifier), and Curt Newton (trap set).
The gig 1/8 was the second leg of the tour after a premiere at the old
Stone in New York . Although this band--Terrie Ex, Jon Rune
Strøm, Ken Vandermark, and Paal Nilssen-Love--was brand new, each musician was
quite familiar with the music of all the others. Any person in the group has performed for a decade
or more with one or more other group members.
Nevertheless, it is a new band working out the identity of this specific
configuration of instruments and musicians.
Even though the music was thoroughly engaging right from the first notes
of the set, the interaction among musicians became more compelling over
time. Each improvised work was of higher
quality than the previous offering. It
was just one more reason that the set seemed so brief. During the single set of music there were
moments of quiet introspection, but there is no question that the forte of the
band is forte. No sleeping during
performances is allowed (i.e., not possible).
It was my first opportunity to witness the work of Jon Rune Strøm on
acoustic bass. He attacks the instrument
much of the time as a demon guitarist would.
In fact, the thought that kept recurring to me during the set is how
amazing it is that Jon Rune plays acoustic bass in this context in which
electric bass is the obvious choice. He
does also play electric bass, but as I thought about it, it became apparent
that he is too good at what he does to play electric bass with this band. No doubt the challenge of bringing out the
possibilities of the acoustic bass is just too constructive for him to take the
“easy” alternative. Terrie and Ken were
the operatic front line. Ken offered
soprano coloratura much of the time on b-flat clarinet and growling
bass/baritone lines on the tenor sax while Terrie skated back and forth taking
on the role of Romantic protagonist. It
was the perfect in-your-face Orpheus role, even scraping the pegs at the end of
the neck of the guitar across the floor.
The result was ethereal music, altering the sounds by doing little more
than twisting and turning the guitar body to captivate the audience with
evolving sonics. If there was any doubt
about the rightness of his protagonist role, Terrie--frustrated by the pops and
sizzles of a problematic amplifier, wrestled the beast (more in the role of
Hercules) for a time until the adversary was quieted for the rest of the
evening. Paal is one of the great
post-Ayler drummers in the world. Even
though he performs the whole gamut of required percussion at the highest level,
I must confess that I get lifted off my chair most dramatically when he explodes
with his kick-ass agenda. My
goodness. Like everyone in the band, he
is thoughtful about life in general and of course music. After the music ended there was a time when I
trapped him in the kitchen of my home to hear what he had to say. We discussed many things, and there was much
for me to hear. At one point I mentioned
that what I loved about Alan Dawson (aside from the fact that he helped his
students develop remarkable skills) is that all of his committed students left
his teaching sessions with unique musical personalities (e.g., think of Gerry
Hemingway vs. Tony Williams). At that
time and later Paal lamented the degree to which younger musicians mimicked
their teachers and other icons. He
mentioned several examples of drummer mimicry, some of them humorous. For example, he noticed that a drummer on a
gig had his head turned sideways with one ear facing the wall in back of the
drums and the other ear facing the audience.
At the end of the set Paal asked the drummer why he kept his head in
that sideways position throughout the entire set. The drummer explained that his favorite
drummer performed with his head in that position. Paal then explained to the young drummer that
the young man’s favorite drummer performed with his head in that position
because he is deaf in one ear. So, in a
sense, I was privileged to catch a great double bill of extraordinary music in
Sherborn and thoughtful, provocative commentary by Paal and other musicians
until the wee small hours in my home. So
I’m just one of many lucky people between New York and Chicago to witness the sounds and thoughts of
such a fine international touring band.
It’s just more evidence of how much we are deprived because the
Musicians Union-inspired immigration visa policies keep creative sonic artists
out of the U.S…
As Charlie Kohlhase reminded us at the fine 1/18 Explorers
Club gig, Roswell Rudd died 12/22 in Kerhonkson ,
New York
Kit Demos’ Dark Matter series is one of the truly durable
and challenging monthly jazz events in town.
Although most of the people he invites to perform at these sessions
write jazz charts (or at least perform them) on occasion, a vast majority of
the Dark Matter sessions feature free improvisation. I found the lineup for the 1/27 gig at the
Outpost particularly intriguing because most of the people performing--Kit,
Forbes Graham, and Luther Gray--are known to most fans in the area for their
free work (even though each of them has presented some of his most provocative
music via improvisation in the context of carefully crafted scores). Add to that proclivity the fact that almost
all Dark Matter sessions are free improvisation sessions and the inclusion of
one of the most compelling straight-ahead guitarists in town--Steve Fell--in
the mix caused me to wonder what strategies the musicians would use to make it
all work. True, I’ve caught Steve
functioning quite capably in free contexts, but I’ve always found him to be
apparently most comfortable playing within a chord cycle. In any case, I was convinced that this gig
was not going to be a typical Dark Matter session (if there is such a thing).
The key question was exactly how it would be different. How would the aesthetic tendencies and
strengths be melded to result in engaging, satisfying music? For me there was no question of if,
only how. A big part of the answer was quite apparent
even before anyone played a note. Music
scores were scattered all over the bandstand and even on seats of the front
row. But don’t worry. The answer to the question about “how” is not
a simple one. There would be no clever
arrangements of “Stardust” or “Cherokee” or even “Naima.” The scores were provided by band members, and
almost all of the charts were ugly. I
use the word “ugly” not as a description of the implicit sounds of the charts
or of the potential results of what the band members might do with them. By “ugly” I refer to the challenge the charts
presented to the people on the stage.
Even though the charts came from different musicians with presumably
different sets of aesthetics, all of the charts were architecturally and
melodically spare. Stark. Sets of simple lines in a sequence of
bars. Even tone rows (that may or may
not have been intended to suggest serialism).
One might argue that the minimalist nature of the writing in general
created environments for improvisation that were functionally close to those of
totally free playing. However, as challenging
as totally free playing can be, I suspect that these charts may be even more
problematic for improvisors in some ways.
On the one hand the music presents a line or piece of architecture that
suggests a specific context--perhaps a specific type of confinement--but at the
same time offers an overwhelming amount of “open space” for improvisation. In other words, this type of writing when
done well presents the improvisor with a great amount of contextual tension
between space and suggested limits. I
should interject that minimalist writing of this type has been around for at
least a decade in post-Ayler jazz, and most of it is terrible. When you hear the bad stuff you can spot
it. It is the proliferation of
recordings and live performances by “hip” post-Ayler musicians that sound
“simply” mechanical in the performance of the charts and usually in the
improvisations also. It is difficult for
an improvisor to overcome bad minimalist writing. You can guess by now that there were no such
problems 1/27 at the Outpost. I’m not
suggesting everything was perfect. This
was difficult music with many challenges.
Kit decided to shake out the cobwebs by designating that the opening
work of the first set would be a totally free performance. Although the last piece of the night was
quite free-wheeling, my memory tells me that this opener was the only
completely free piece of the night. I
think Kit’s instincts were good. The cobwebs
did need to be removed. But the process
was less than scintillating. There were
a few scattered notes here and there and much hesitating with halting
gestures. Everyone was concerned about
ruining the soufflé. Or, at least that
is what it seemed like for the first half of that first venture. As the improvisation found its legs, the
musicians and members of the audience seemed to realize that the upcoming
challenge would be met successfully. And
it was a success. Qualitatively. The challenges mentioned did not
disappear. So the profound revelations
to the musicians as they solved the problems were there for people in the
audience as well. In general it was an
attentive audience--one that remained almost intact to the end. In other words, it was a worthwhile but
taxing sonic revelation. With the final
applause all musicians and members of the audience were conscious that they had
participated in or witnessed the construction of the pyramids. But the music was so successful that even the
observers were feeling like Egyptians.
Drained but happy Egyptians…
The photo below appeared with the heading “Images Speak
TRUTH TO POWER” in the winter 2018 issue (p. 5) of STAND magazine, a
publication of the ACLU. The photo of
the black woman being arrested was taken during a protest in Baton Rouge , Louisiana Texas has quintupled (p.
28) and membership in Maine
has quadrupled (pp. 34-35), an increase comparable to that of “virtually every
ACLU affiliate.” Antidote…
Eric Rosenthal has
an ongoing series he calls the Point 01 Percent Project. It’s a double bill consisting of established
local musicians performing in two different groups--a great idea that almost
inevitably produces variable results.
But the good news is that usually fans can count on at least one of the
groups to perform at a high level. The
1/10 gig at the Lily Pad set the bar even higher with the best double
bill I’ve caught anywhere in this new year.
First up is what apparently is now being called Cutout, a quintet that
has opened several of these Eric Rosenthal sessions. As I’ve noted in previous Journal
entries, it is fascinating to observe this group of fine musicians--Pandelis
Karayorgis, Jorrit Dijkstra, Jeb Bishop, Nate McBride, and Luther Gray--work on
and improve the music performed on each outing. I think it’s fair to say that
the quintet has reached what may be described as a functional level of
quality. The term may sound like a
put-down, but I offer it as a designation of a significant milestone. Think of the band as having worked out almost
all of the bugs. Remember, this is a
band of five distinctly different musical personalities who are improvising and
playing charts. This is a big deal. None of these musicians think about music or
write resultant music that is like the thoughts and writing of any other band
member. If you ponder that fact even
briefly, the setup looks like a disaster in the making. But the band members have enough in
common--not the least of which is a passion for creating the best music with
the other top-shelf musicians--to stick with the challenge and make it all
work. On that gig for the first time I
was convinced that they made “it all work.”
Again, it is important to keep in mind how good these musicians
are. All of them know how to read a
chart and solo superbly. That sort of
professionalism was in place even in the earliest ventures by the quintet. But--in spite of the fact that the band
played music composed by all five musicians--the charts were mechanically
invisible. Each chart was distinctive,
but at no time did I feel that anyone in the band was “playing” the music. It was a pleasant walk in the park for
everyone concerned. Breakthrough. And the fluidity of presentation of the
charts meant that the solos unfolded and soared more organically within the
context. All of that adds up to the fact
that the quintet truly has arrived. From
here on with the “essentials” taken care of we can anticipate more incremental
improvements in the band’s performances (if the experiences of bands led by
Goodman and Basie are predictive.) The
current status also opens the door to experimentation, the types of directions
only possible when a group is as sure-footed as it is now. In any event, the process will be a lot of
fun to witness. The second set of the
double bill 1/10 featured a completely different set of music, like the first
set only in the sense that the musicians on the bandstand are superb and that
they showed up to play their butts off.
Unlike the band of the first set that was chart-driven, Secret
Handshake--Dave Bryant, Eric Hofbauer, Jacob William, and Eric Rosenthal--did
not work with fixed arrangements. There
were heads popping up here and there throughout the performance (thanks mostly
to inspiration from Bird and Ornette) and shifting chord centers often starting
with the cycle for a head and morphing into a completely different harmonic and
sonic pattern. In addition, there were
sections of totally free improvising. Of
course, all four men were kept busy creatively, even in instances in which the
spontaneously chosen action was complete silence. This quartet has performed together enough
and the instincts of each musician operate at such a high level that the entire
off-road journey produced music that came across as a completely natural
(“predictable” after the fact) coming together of disparate components. The bassist and drummer breathe together even
when at first (until your ears adjust) it seems that they are going in different
directions. As I’ve said countless
times, David’s acoustic piano work is a special joy to behold--everything from
brilliant torrents to almost inaudible cloud formations. At the same time the guitarist was a major
force in defining the shifting support architecture for all the mayhem dancing
around him (when he wasn’t scaring guitar fans with “impossible” solos). It’s almost a rule in jazz: guitars and
pianos don’t mix. If you subscribe to
that premise, I invite you to witness the truth of Dave and Eric H. on stage
together. One of the highlights of the
set was a piano-guitar duo section in which both musicians called forth the
very resources of Zeus to raise one the of the most joyous clamors of the new
year. Or likely of the whole year. It was a terrific way to conclude a Point 01 Percent Project presentation
that no doubt will set the bar for all double bills throughout 2018…