Page One

a column by
Bill Shoemaker

Michael Formanek: New Old World


Michael Formanek © 2026 Sandra Eisner


In 2023, Michael Formanek and Sandra Eisner were like many couples in their early 60s. They were empty-nesters, their son Peter Formanek having left home several years before to attend the University of Michigan, then establishing himself as an educator and a multi-instrumentalist and composer in Michigan after graduation. They had only moved twice in the prior 20 years, first to Towson, Maryland, when Michael joined the faculty at Baltimore’s Peabody Institute, and then to West Orange, New Jersey, after the end of his 15-year tenure. Coming out of the pandemic, they were ready for a change; but instead of a quaint village off the beaten path or a Del Webb community and a social life revolving around backgammon and pickle ball and fondue and chardonnay, they chose Lisbon. Not Lisbon the town in Connecticut, Maine, or Maryland; but Lisbon, Portugal.

Moving, even across town, when you are close to being eligible for Medicare is a vastly different proposition then when you’re barely eligible to vote. Instead of getting a buddy with a van or a pickup truck to make a couple of runs, you really have to take stock and make hard, final choices between what you keep, what gets tagged for the yard sale, and what is given to friends or Goodwill. When moving to another country, it’s way more complicated. In the case of Portugal, Americans typically apply for a long-stay visa, entailing proof of funds and stable income, then a residence permit after arrival. Permanent residency can be applied for after five years, which requires proof or everything from health insurance to a clean criminal record. And there’s a test for basic language skills in Portuguese, one of the more tongue-twisting languages on the planet.

It's not something you do on a lark.

It was a lengthy process, Formanek recently recounted. “The short version is that it seemed like it was something we could do, that it was possible, that it was manageable, based on the way that getting residency here was working at the time. Musically, I had been here enough to feel good about it, but I didn’t know the country so well. I had just made trips here to play with Thumbscrew and over the years with people like Marty Ehrlich, Tim Berne, and a lot of other people. I never had extended time here; just coming in and out.

“There were a few people I knew here, expats like John O’Gallagher the alto saxophonist, Andy Sheppard, and Julian Argüelles, another British saxophone player. But it was also important to connect with as many Portuguese musicians to really get a sense of what was going on. I connected with Rodrigo Amado and through him met a lot of other musicians that cover a pretty broad range of jazz and improvised music. A big part of my life in music has been working in different areas and zones at different times. They’re all things I love but I tend to focus on one area at a time – what I’m into at that time.

“So, once we were here, I started thinking about what sorts of things I’d like to do and who I wanted to connect with to do them. There were then a few projects that were ongoing, like Thumbscrew, or in the works, like Myra Melford’s Splash Trio with Ches Smith. We had a gig in at the Boulez Saal in Berlin in June 2023, just weeks after we arrived, that had been planned for a year. Myra and I started talking about a possible project a couple of years prior to the gig. After that first gig, Myra asked us if we wanted to continue as a group and Ches and I said yes. That trio is now an ongoing entity with a record we got out. I really like playing Myra’s music with her and Ches.”

Word of Formanek’s move spread rather quickly. An offer from Jazz Club Ferrara prompted him to put together an occasional quartet with pianist Alexander Hawkns and two Americans who reside part-time in Europe – saxophonist Michaël Attias and Devin Gray, whose association with Formanek began when the drummer was an undergraduate at Peabody. There was also a steady flow of one-offs throughout Portugal, as well as Germany and Switzerland. “It’s still a range of things,” Formanek explained. “I needed to process what I wanted to do and with whom. I was less interested in doing some things that I had been doing. I’ve been very fortunate to work with really great musicians. But sometimes I like playing music that is more improvised than it is composed, and the other way around. I just like mixing it up in different ways. It keeps things fresh for me. And I’ve been able to do that here.”

“I think the jury’s still out on that,” Formanek replied when asked if Europe better facilitated mixing it up. “I think like anywhere else, people here want to know you, what you do, and locate you in a certain zone. I have no aversion to that – if someone wants to do that, fine. But I always go where my interests lie. If I feel like I’m doing a little too much of one thing, I’ll change it up for a while. I don’t concern myself too much with that. I’m sure it’s effected certain things for me, career-wise or whatever, but it’s not in my nature to consider my identity in terms of genre or jazz. Not my thing.”

Formanek generally agrees that maturity plays a role in his all-of-the-above-and-none-of-the above view of his work. “I think to some extent I’ve been like that pre-old age. I think I’ve gotten more that way with moving, going back to New York, reestablishing contacts with people and then leaving again. I never feel like I’m leaving somewhere, but going to somewhere else. Yeah, I think age has plays a part in that and probably my observations about these things are not going to get better with time. I think I’ll just get more and more the way I am.”

Even though Formanek has toured Europe for decades, residing in Portugal for over two years – first in Lisbon and now in nearby Torres Vedras – has deepened his sense of history and culture. This is reflected in the title of the leadoff track of his new septet album, New Digs (Intakt): “New Old World.” “Everywhere I’ve spent some time in Europe I’ve become aware of the hundreds of years of history, even thousands of years of history, all around you, he explained. “Portugal has a special history that I don’t know that well, but the Romans were here, followed by the Moors, then the establishment of the state and colonial times. It’s a really interesting history and you see it all around you. Lisbon is incredible; you turn a corner and you see this amazing tiled wall or a ruin. It’s incredible. I’m very aware of being in a very old culture. There are archeological digs near where we live – the Bronze Age; the Copper Age. There have also been a lot of dinosaur discoveries nearby.

“The whole idea of a New Old World also applies to music and the way we think about music. I have a fascination with early music, Renaissance music, and Baroque music, and how they all connect in the development of music. And there’s jazz history, how we deal with early jazz and everything that came after. As we get older, we tend to have a long view about how events and cultural shifts and a lot of other things create a historical context, and how things that are happening now are like carbon copies of things that happened in the last century, and the century before that. Living here has brought that out more as a constant thread.”

Though he is not sure how, Formanek thinks the New Old World may be seeping into his composing. “I’m going through some musical changes and am trying to do some different things. Maybe I’m getting a little closer to them here, so maybe it has something to do with being here. I do listen to a lot of European music – not just Portuguese music – but also European improvisers and European composers. There is a lot of influence, but I’m not exactly sure about how it has influenced me, yet.”

New Digs suggests Europe’s most profound influence may be attitudinal. The balancing of ear-grabbing themes, nimble arranging, and providing a wide-open door for improvisers has been Formanek’s strong suit for decades. The degree of difficulty to retain that balance increases with each musician brought into a project. New Digs is Formanek’s first septet album since Low Profile (Enja). The material of that 1993 date has a bite and a sardonic tinge well suited for longtime colleagues like Tim Berne. By no means has that incisiveness diminished in the interceding 33 years; but New Digs lands much differently, the dynamic between mind and heart at the core of his compelling composition leaning slightly towards the heart, generally, and exquisitely so on “Gone Home/Interlude for Susan Alcorn.” Much credit goes to Formanek’s collaborators, including ongoing partners like Thumbscrew’s Mary Halvorson and Tomas Fujiwara, members of previous Formanek formations like tenor saxophonist Chet Doxas, and occasional bandmates like O’Gallagher and Alexander Hawkins, who plays organ exclusively.

“In general,” Formanek remarked, “I like that size group, even though it is impractical to do gigs, as many of my groups are, unfortunately. I had a really different idea about how I was going to structure the music.  I wanted the organ to be central, with everything placed around it. Getting back to that New Old World idea, one of the reasons I love the organ is the way it is used in early music and sacred music, spiritual music – not that this is spiritual jazz, just to be clear. There is also the contemporary role of the organ in the jazz of the ‘50s and ‘60s. I like that feeling of taking a little time travel through those colors. I hadn’t played with Alex on organ, but I’ve played with him enough to know what he draws upon is so broad and vast and has so many interesting reference points that could add to the music. And then there’s the sonic weight of the organ. I wanted it to be present in one way or another but not in a way that screams ‘jazz organ record.’

“Then there’s Thumbscrew, kind of the rhythm section, such as we are. But it was very important to me that this band didn’t line up like soldiers in a 17th Century battle. I wanted the organ in the middle and everyone else around it, not the rhythm section behind the horn players. The music was designed, and that’s the way we recorded it and mixed it.”

Unlike the others in the septet, trumpeter Joao Almeida had no prior history with Formanek. He also appeared out of nowhere at the 11th hour before the septet’s first concert. “I had put this band together for the Guimarães Festival and everything was set, but two weeks before the gig the trumpet player had health issues and he had to cancel,” said Formanek. “That’s such a rare situation for me that I really had to get my head around it and deal with it. I know a lot of trumpet players but I don’t have a book where I can run down a list and make a call. I was playing a gig in Lisbon that night, a crazy night because I basically missed the gig. Between the heavy rain and traffic and the Uber I took – it took an hour and a half to get there. I got there at the end, played a little bit, and there was a young guy there doing sound in this tiny club. So, I was telling the others that I was sorry, and that on top of that, I had a trumpet player cancel on me for this festival, and that my mind is just like blown, trying to figure out what to do. The sound guy looked at me, but didn’t say anything. He then sent me a note, saying this may be weird, but I am a trumpet player and I would love to play your music. That was an amazing thing. I’m looking into other options, but let’s get together and talk. He came over and we played a little and talked. He was really serious, read everything, really good improviser, really calm guy. So, we did the gig and it was really nice with him; his vibe, his attitude, how he dealt with the music, how he got along with everyone, which in a bigger group, becomes kind of crucial. It worked out so well that when it was time to do the recording, I used everyone on the gig.”

The Alcorn tribute makes the case in point for Formanek’s regard for Almeida. Even before factoring in the backstory of how the many meetings of the pedal steel guitarist and the bassist – particularly their trios with Ellery Eskelin and Evan Parker – contributed to the vitality of Baltimore’s early-century creative music scene, let alone the backdrop of The Wind Up Space, where much of their music was made, and how the venue, the venerable Red Emma’s bookstore, and a mural of urban agrarians proclaiming “The City is Ours,”  made a sketchy block of North Avenue an oasis for woke folk before the developers swooped in, “Gone Home” is stunningly poignant. Formanek’s opening solo is propelled by jabbing phrases streaked with folk music lyricism, its appealing earthiness bringing Danny Thompson to mind. The ensuing ensemble is built on short repeating phrases that creates a ticking-clock tension that suddenly blossoms like a time-lapse video of a rose on a thorny stem.

That’s when Almeida steps up and solos with haiku-like economy. His tone is fundamentally pellucid, yet he has the ability to place a slightly smudged timbre at exactly the right moment. There is a knowing in his voice that is significantly older than his years. The solo also sets the table for Halvorson’s layered scape of effects and submerged strumming and O’Gallagher’s stentorian long tones, statements that slip the piece into the ether. Almeida proves he is not just the lucky guy who stumbled into fast company, but someone who belonged from the get-go.

“Gone Home” is also a measure of how well Formanek matches material and musician, which he said is “always a consideration, but in this case, some of that was developed as we went along. Initially, the pieces were written; I thought about them going this way or that way; but it wasn’t like this piece is a concerto for that person, or anything like that. I do think about who is playing what all the time, but in terms of who solos when, that evolved. Granted, we only had done one gig before we recorded, but some of it evolved as I finished the compositions, and then between the gig and the recording, which was two years, almost.” Usually, composers write to their colleagues established strengths; but Formanek has a knack for often tapping little heard aspects of their creativity, be it Doxas’ mix of angular phrases and boss tenor sound on “aka The Stinger” or Hawkins’ dabs of grease on “Quinze.” The stylistically varied set also highlights the adaptability of the synergy Formanek, Halvorson, and Fujiwara have achieved as Thumbscrew to larger ensembles. They have an unerring feel for when to accelerate, when to coast, and when to tap the brakes.

“I know you’re not supposed to say this,” Formanek confessed, “but I wrote the music in such a way that it didn’t require a lot of rehearsal time, because we didn’t have it. There was the gig in Guimarães and Mary and Tomas were coming in the day before, but that first day of international travel is a nightmare and we ended up with an hour and a half to put it together. We did the gig and it felt great. When we did the recording, there was a snafu with Mary and Tomas’ flight. We were doing Jazz em Agosto in Lisbon and we couldn’t book the studio for the day we wanted, so we had to record the day they arrive. They got off the plane, went to the hotel for a couple of hours, and then they came to the studio. As musicians, we all know this happens and we deal with it, but it is a lot to ask of people. You have to be a big time pro to play like they played in those circumstances, to do things really well on the fly – which is something all of the musicians on the record can do, even though you try to avoid the snafus. And that’s where the music being relatively easy to learn really made a difference. I’ve written really difficult music in the past, but I wanted people to be able to breathe with this music. I think all this contributed to the record being special.”

 

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