Moment's Notice

Reviews of Recent Media
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Borderlands Trio
Rewilder
Intakt CD416

Stephan Crump
Slow Water
Papillon Sounds PS28242



It’s been a while since bassist Stephan Crump left the frequently knotty rhythmic matrices of the Vijay Iyer Trio following a twenty-year association. His output since then has been perhaps more considered than might have been imagined. Over the course of fourteen leadership dates, avoiding the obvious has become a hallmark of his practice, whether that be in the two guitar Rosetta Trio, in duet with Mary Halvorson, or the uncategorizable Planktonic Tales with saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock and pianist Cory Smythe.

Returning to the format in which he first came to prominence, Crump forms one third of the Borderlands Trio, alongside pianist Kris Davis and drummer Eric McPherson. The threesome reunites for its third release Rewilder, a double album of eight spontaneously generated pieces. Like its predecessors, it hovers between introspection and exuberance, with a tendency for the former which lends all the more weight to the latter when it arrives. A notably egalitarian outfit, the modus operandi is one of conversational flow in which everyone has their say, regularly starting spaciously with a keen consideration of detail and placement, maintained even as the density increases.

Often the temptation is for the attention to follow the harmonic instrument in a piano trio, and there are undoubtedly spots here where a superlative operator like Davis grabs the ears. But she frequently undercuts that inclination with preparations which emphasize her keyboard’s percussive nature, evoking steel pans, thumb pianos, and gamelan orchestra. Such tactics gel winningly with McPherson’s rhythmic fragments and isolated drum textures, which he deploys with the sensitivity whetted during his sojourns with Andrew Hill and Fred Hersch. But interestingly in this unfettered context they assume a stark abstract dimension. Davis is also especially effective when she juxtaposes altered notes in one hand against untreated figures in the other, suggesting two separate, though telepathically linked, performers. Elsewhere her minimalist-variation-meets-sparkling-invention runs of clipped notes catch on reiterated figures, to variously build either tension or hypnotic meditation. Such is her skill that at times they coalesce into a hyper-speed blur which sounds like the pianistic equivalent of Evan Parker’s circular breathing.

With three such structure-loving improvisers, there’s always a cohesion to the on-the-fly negotiations, even on the more expansive cuts where focus organically pinballs around the group: Crump’s sturdy boned melodicism foregrounded one moment, Davis’ Cecil Taylor-like kernels the next. While some of the shorter selections mine a specific mood, such as the soothingly harmonious “Axolotl,” where the bassist’s bowing recalls Bach’s Cello Suites in its formal elegance, it is the long form pieces containing space to evolve that are a particular highlight. “Monotreme” and “Tree Shrimp,” which merge into one near half an hour extravaganza, pivot on a passage of playful off-the-cuff syncopation, and a terrific solo from McPherson in which the echoing and receding beats invoke dub reggae. “Echidna” presents a series of suitably spiky exchanges, while the final “Commerce Sunrise” conjures a loose groove, fueled by Crump’s impromptu riff, and some of Davis’ most rootsy work. Remarkably as Crump reveals in the liners, they went into the studio for half a day and everything they recorded is released. All hits. No misses.

Crump helms a stellar chamber sextet on Slow Water, a contemplative collection inspired by Erica Gies’ eye-opening yet hopeful polemic Water Always Wins. It comprises a dozen tracks which alternate between the leader’s through-composed charts and shorter more amorphous numbers, credited to Stephan Crump with the ensemble. While there is no further clarification, among the liner photos is a handwritten sheet which says: “Tune idea – breathe together as one giant multifaceted organism,” and there are at least a couple of pieces which might be the realization of this gambit of directed improvisation. It affirms that Crump’s conception informs the program, whether notation is involved or not.

To make his vision reality he has assembled a cast of adventurous NYC stalwarts who between them straddle the contemporary classical, jazz and improv scenes. The rich instrumental palette, two brass, three strings, and vibes, gives the opportunity for multiple lines, counter melodies, and varied combinations, pitching brass against strings for example in “Eager” and “Dusk Critters.” Crump avoids the limelight, sharing timekeeping duties when required with vibraphonist Patricia Brennan, though it is particularly the bassist who anchors the ensemble. Although this is primarily an ensemble music, trombonist Jacob Garchik and trumpeter Kenny Warren briefly flare in “Bogged,” though more often the individual contributions braid and fuse together. Notable among the many permutations Crump draws out from his crew is the lovely string trio at the start of “Mire,” with Joanna Mattrey’s viola and yuniya edi kwon’s violin interweaving, alongside the bassist’s arco.

While the inspiration is specific, and the titles reflect aspects of that, despite the accompanying press release’s insistence, the results do not seem overly programmatic. If they were, surely the tuneful, sunny refrain of “Bogged” would deserve a less murky title for instance. Such lilting melodies regularly accentuate a largely congruent feel. Even the more fractious, wayward elements remain within what you might call the natural compositional flood plain. As you see, after an initial vow of abstinence, the lure of watery metaphors ultimately proves irresistible. So, to conclude, there are no canalized torrents here. Instead, in accord with Gies’ prescription, the music permeates, gently seeping and nurturing, going where it will.
–John Sharpe

 

Anthony Braxton
10 Comp (Lorraine) 2022
New Braxton House Records NBH911

In 2022, Anthony Braxton unveiled The Lorraine Music system, the next stage in his ever-evolving music structures, building on what he refers to as his sonic geometrics, “a giant Erector set that can be assembled in multiple ways.” An evolution of his Diamond Curtain Wall music, the pieces expand upon conventional notation in the scores with geometric shapes which prescribe the number of repetitions of phrases as well as the graphical use of colors which are mapped to specific sound types or techniques. This framework encompasses sections of open improvisation, the incorporation of kernels of Braxton’s extensive book of compositions, and electronics which respond to the ensemble. But as a listener, one needn’t delve into the complexities of the underlying logics of Braxton’s music to absorb the dazzling results.

Which brings us to 10 Comp (Lorraine) 2022, an expansive ten-disc set on the New Braxton House label. The set documents both live and studio sessions where two different ensembles explore ten compositions from The Lorraine Music system in depth. The six live performances captured over the course of a European tour in October and November 2021, captures the trio of Braxton on saxophones and electronics, Adam Matlock on accordion and voice, and Susana Santos Silva on trumpet. For the studio sessions, recorded in May 2022, Braxton convened a two-reed, two-bass quartet with Braxton, again on saxophones and electronics, saxophonist, and frequent collaborator James Fei along with string bass players Zach Rowden and Carl Testa. Braxton comments on the members of the two groups, noting “I would like to thank the musicians on this project for their creativity and dedication. There is a new generation of creative artists who are already advancing fresh areas of imagination, technology, and surprises. I have been lucky to meet some of these people and I look forward to learning more about the unfolding world of new horizons and the hope of cosmic radiance.”

Braxton’s music has long examined the interaction of structure and spontaneity which he lays out in in the liner notes to this set as:

UNKNOWN / KNOWN / INTUITION
MUTABLE LOGICS / STABLE LOGICS / TRANSPOSITIONAL LOGICS
IMPROVISATION / STRUCTURAL IDENTITY / SYMBOLIC LOGICS
REAL-TIME MOMENT/ TARGET INPUT INJECTION / FLEX LOGIC REBALANCE
OBSERVATION / CALCULATION / EXPLORATION

Equally as important are the timbres, registers, and sonic colorations at play in the instrumentation of the ensembles he assembles. 10 Comp (Lorraine) 2022 provides compelling examples of this, contextualizing the structures of Lorraine Music for the timbral diversity of the reeds, accordion and vocals, trumpet trio juxtaposed with the paired saxophone and double bass quartet, both interwoven into the scrims of Braxton’s electronic palette.

Stockholm-based trumpet player Susana Santos Silva is an astute choice for the trio. She’s been developing her distinctive instrumental voice in a plethora of projects ranging from jazz and free improvisation to contemporary composition to electro-acoustic settings in solo and ensemble settings. New Haven-based Adam Matlock comes from an equally diverse background, with experience in traditional folk musics, improvisation, electronic music, and long form instrumental and vocal composition. He’s worked with Braxton as part of the Syntactical Ghost Trance Music Choir for over a decade. In the trio pieces, Santos Silva’s warm, lithe trumpet lines, muted smears and breathy flutters, Braxton’s stabbing reed angularities, fluid bop-inflected runs, legato long tones, and burred overtones, and Matlock’s reedy accordion lines, harmonically rich chords, and extended vocalizations moving from guttural growls to lissome, dark incantations, meld with the morphing ground of interactive electronics. Lines move in and out of sync, one moment coalescing around unison themes, breaking off into counterpoised lines, or opening into sections where one voice emerges from the collective, all the while foregrounding and backgrounding the shifting electronics. The readings of the six compositions, numbered 423 through 428, range from 41 minutes to just under an hour, with each carving out a poised sense of pacing and keen ear toward timbral interaction.

The quartet with Fei, Rowden, and Testa carves out its own unique tact, owing equally to the sensibilities of players and the timbral areas and extended pitch range of the instruments. Each member of the group has extensive experience with Braxton’s music, and he seems to leverage this familiarity with strategies to chart a more collective approach through the pieces. The juxtaposition of the distinctive colorations of the trio are traded for an ensemble sound which is denser, leaning more into intertwined trajectories. At a cursory level, the snaking reed parts shadow and weave around each other as the low-end sonorities of the double basses mass together in lush resonant layers, and the electronics navigate the middle ground. The addition of low register saxophones further broadens the sound of the pieces. But those three planes are melded into a holistic approach, never sounding like disparate sections. Like on the trio performances, the realizations of the pieces move through areas of ensemble concentration to arcs where individual lines gain focus; from accrued voicings to spare, open improvisation. Listening to the four compositions realized by the quartet, one is struck by the multifaceted possibilities Braxton’s structures provide.

Braxton’s penchant for releasing massive, multi-disc sets can make his projects a bit daunting to fully assimilate. But sets like these provide an immersive opportunity to listen to the way his music continues to evolve bolstered by the ensembles he is able to assemble who are dedicated to grappling with his intricate, ever-evolving musical systems. 10 Comp (Lorraine) 2022 provides an exceptional opportunity for listeners to dive into this next step along the journey.
–Michael Rosenstein

 

The Flame
Towards the Flame, Vol. 2
577 Records 5920-2

اسم [Ism]
Maua
577 Records 5926-2

Matthew Shipp Trio
New Concepts in Piano Trio Jazz
ESP-Disk ESP5085





There is an ongoing struggle to infuse the piano trio with something – anything – that is new. Perhaps more than any configuration of instruments central to jazz and improvised music, piano trios are vulnerable to the market-driven urge to be slightly ahead of the curve. Look at the roster of most abundantly resourced concert series and there’s a well-styled piano trio striking a pose that says, on the one hand, they are serious artists, but on the other, they are not a risk to your entertainment dollar. Think The Bad Plus, Brad Melhdau’s trio, even Vijay Iyer’s, all of whom make for a lovely evening. Piano trios that chuck all of that are in a distinct minority, but they do create an oversized share of the music that future generations will recognize as having moved the needle away from the ossifying quotidian that is the contemporary. The Flame, اسم [Ism], and Matthew Shipp Trio, are prominent among them.

Shipp knows his history, evidenced by the wink-and-nod title of his newest recording with Michael Bisio and Newman Taylor Baker, New Concepts in Piano Trio Jazz. After all, it was Bill Evans’ New Jazz Conceptions that established the template for the modern jazz piano trio, one reliant on pace and variety of materials to keep both newbies and old hands engaged. Shipp turns the formula on its head with a program of eight tracks, all but one of which are seven minutes or substantially less. Whereas Evans emphasized reengineered chestnuts, garnished with originals, Shipp dives deep, opening with the somber, succinct “Primal Poem” instead of a light-hearted swinger. It takes almost 30 seconds for Baker’s brushes to become audible on the succeeding “Sea Song,” another swim through subtly turned phrases, this time with a slowly rising tide of intensity. Almost ten minutes into the program, Bisio kicks off “The Function” with a sturdy walking line; however, Shipp counters with off-center phrasing, pugnacious jabs, and scampering lines, while Baker resourcefully fills in the margins, offsetting the impetus to swing conventionally. The remainder of the albums has a similar, muted contrarian tilt until the 11-minute “Coherent System,” which closes the proceedings with house-shaking intensity, tipping the listener to the nature of Shipp’s new concept: make a complete, album-length statement that is far afield from the quotidian.

Although اسم [Ism] is comprised of 3/4s of أحمد [Ahmed], the trio of Pat Thomas, Joel Grip, and Antonin Gerbal explore distinctly different materials and methods than when working with radical saxophonist Seymour Wright. Instead of quickly locking into ecstatic polygrooves, where their respective rhythms meld into a throbbing, holler-inducing mass, اسم [Ism] is relatively deliberate in setting the table and ratcheting up the intensity. This allows Thomas to more fully air his Joycean approach to jazz piano history, a gene-splicing resulting in sly, tangy inferences rather than obligatory name checks. It is a tact that Grip and Gerbal respond to with an unerring calibration of energy, the trio taking over thirty minutes on the title to reach an أحمد [Ahmed]-like frenzy, and then for just several climactic minutes.  اسم [Ism] then meets the considerable challenge of a short encore that cools down a supernova with “Niloo’s Dream.” Again, Thomas’ ability to create an evocative mood, a drifting through various strands of jazz piano DNA, is superb – it is an aspect of his playing that curiously evades most commentaries.

The word on Robert Mitchell has been slow to waft over the pond. As good as they are, the two volumes of Towards the Flame by The Flame, the trio with Neal Charles and Mark Sanders, only begin to outline his music, which encompasses everything from the groove-driven True Think to London Sinfonietta-commissioned through-composed works for the left hand. The Flame speaks extremely well of his capacity for free improvisation. What sets Mitchell apart from most other pianists in this endeavor is his keen feel for what is just enough, be it dazzling virtuosity, nuanced lyricism, or provocative gestures – he never overplays what the moment requires. Charles and Sanders take full advantage of this throughout the album, making it a truly collective effort – their extended dialogue on “Spark of the Catalyst (Parts I-IV)” is a study in rapport and resourcefulness. As send-offs go, “Be Kind (Through It All)” is a gem; building from tender melodic kernels, it crests with Alice Coltrane-like majesty.
–Bill Shoemaker

 

Nikolaus Gerszewski
3 Works for Strings
ezz-thetics 1052

When the Theater of Eternal Music made its provocative musical statements in the early 1960s, those blood-boiling forays into the bludgeoning associated with what is still clumsily called minimalism, its visceral impact was at least part, but by no means all, of the point. If any single traditional through-line, or heritage, is evident in Nikolaus Gerszewki’s three pieces for 12 strings, played with appropriate gusto by the Giusto Chamber Orchestra, this radical drone embodies it.

The superficial aesthetic of Gerszewski’s work might be described as an experience of the calm centered by, or centering, the storm, the hurricane’s placid eye. The titles go a long way toward nurturing the vibe of sometimes overtly motoric and always granitic detachment, especially Inert Mass and Solid Rock. The former pulses and glisses its way over nearly half an hour from one sonority to another, but of course, the process is the journey as changeless change proliferates. The latter stacks more apparent and shifting pulses to create an environment of less obvious pitch change but equal motion in stasis. The second piece on the disc, Lining, presents a beautifully microtonal melody in what I’ll call the soprano line, a gradual increase of tempo finally rendering background foreground and vice versa.

A deeper listen reveals these linear processes to be hugging the shore. The rapids of each composition are rich and strange, sea-changes occurring within seconds or over several minutes. Andy Hamilton’s liner notes address all of these issues. His brief but poignant essay is a negation of negations encompassing issues of lineage, aesthetics, and perception as he evokes concentric traditions via name and allusion. He is correct to point toward Ligetian counterpoint and Bartok’s bone-and-muscle brutality, which Hamilton calls severity, in support of his own labyrinthine conception, one to rival the thorns and sinews in the performances. One surprising and extremely appropriate reference is to Keio Line, a wonderful collaboration between Richard Pinhas and Merzbow, the importance of which needs to be more completely understood and appreciated. Hamilton, and it is to be assumed Gerszewski, rightly cite beauty as a main ingredient of that expansive album, which could be extended to encapsulate Gerszewski’s own work.

Equally surprising is the fact that Hamilton points toward dynamic changes in these string essays. I’d suggest that dynamic changes are the one musical element not to be represented. Melodies and harmonies abound if grasping them is a listener’s priority, rhythm changes dramatically at every turn, beauty is negotiable, but all 3 pieces begin and end as if, like the Theater of Eternal Music marathons, they might continue ad infinitum. Missing from the notes, shockingly, is any reference to La Monte Young and associates. The closest we come is Morton Feldman, not very close at all it seems. Despite my grumbling, music and notes provide a provocative package, and as always with any production in which Werner Uehlinger is involved, the sonics are second to none. Anyone wishing a deep dive into Gerszewski’s particular methods of ordering chaos will be well served.
–Marc Medwin

 

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