Reviews

What do you get when you put a German and two Americans together in a small room or unite a Norwegian and two Englishmen? While those situations may sound like the set up for a joke from the Second World War, the correct answer, from the evidence of these CDs, is exemplary improvisation.

The Norwegian-British concord involves veteran Nordic alto saxophonist Frode Gjerstad --who at one point led a band featuring the late British drum pioneer John Stevens -- and two players from a younger British generation. Singly and together Londoners bassist John Edwards and drummer Mark Sanders have played with many of the United Kingdom's reed heavy hitters: John Butcher, Paul Dunmall and Evan Parker. When they connect with Gjerstad on these five instant compositions the result is superior free jazz.

To grasp the distinction between free jazz and free music all you have to do is listen to the second disc featuring another woodwind player with the initials FG. German reedist Frank Gratkowski never reaches the ecstatic heights of Gjerstad's improvising, but his carefully modulated output meshes with that of his rhythm section to produce low-key group music. Gratkowski spreads his improvising among the alto saxophone, clarinet, and bass clarinet. His American confreres -- Bay area bassist Damon Smith and Chicago percussionist Jerome Bryerton -- are also closer to his age than the Brits are to Gjerstad's. Furthermore the Yanks' singular or collective experience with European reedmen such as Wolfgang Fuchs, Tony Bevan and Butcher has led them to synthesize European aesthetics in their work. You can hear this most clearly on �Profound and shallow", The Voice Imitator's almost 25-minute core composition, which clocks in at more than twice the length of anything else on the CD.

Probably the most abstract of all the tracks, it features Gratkowski's amplification of a single, growling reed whine on bass clarinet gradually reconstituting itself into a replication of the practice scale heard through the prism of sheets of sound. As swifter and swifter reed tones slide into one another then dissolve into bird-like squeaks, Smith holds things together with impressionistic bowed bass lines. Limiting himself to single note excursions, Bryerton splashes out a pressure point on orchestral metal, ethnic percussion and Chinese cymbals, often emphasizing his points with mallets. At times, Gratkowski sounds a sonorous clarinet note that is echoed by the drummer's cymbal top and strummed by the bassist. No one tries to outplay the other, though. All three are sidemen or all are soloists. Closely follow a single rhythm section solo phrase for example, and suddenly you realize that the bass and drums have turned to accompanying the reedist, who is warbling out a series of high-powered split tones.

Throughout the disc, silences are as important to the output as concentrated notes. Gratkowski hisses colored air through his mouthpiece then concentrate on mouth pulses, until occasional notes escape in between the air and spit tones. He overblows to expand his tone and mixes his output with reed kisses, tongue slaps, Bronx cheers, monkey-like gibbering and basso snorts that could come from a baritone. Moving in-and-out of false registers, he uses many of the techniques he's developed for solo playing in this group situation.

Meanwhile Bryerton counters with rumbling drum rolls, abrasive scratches on his ride cymbal, shimmering sizzle cymbals and bull's eye whacks on his Chinese gong. Some timbres seem to result from rim shots on the side of his drums or on wood blocks or from sounds created by hitting the cymbal holder or clamp rather than the instrument itself. More often than not on purpose, his time is beveled rather than operating in a straight line.

The dense blanket of pulses the bassist creates is used by the others as a launching pad for their improvisations. Sometimes, in fact, Smith even plays standard jazz time. Rarely, though, does he have a chance to display the sort of spectacular virtuosity he has shown on discs with Fuchs and the late bass master Peter Kowald.

The set up is a little less democratic on The Welsh Chapel, where, without slighting the contributions of the rhythm section, it's definitely the saxist's show. Moreover, the sort of side-slipping, screeching alto tone Gratkowski sometimes exhibits on the first disc is stock in trade for Gjerstad in his many solos. Irregular honks, prolonged squeal, a Rudy Wiedoeft-wide vibrato and playing entire passages in dog whistle territory are favored.

Not that he's an empty show-off though. On the rare occasions when the energy music subsides to a less frantic pace, a strain of Nordic melancholy infects his solos. The Norwegian has played clarinet and bass clarinet on other discs, and while he's listed as only playing alto saxophone here, some of the more vehement, tone-sliding passages sound like they may come from those wooden horns.

�The Welsh chapel: Part 3" has more than enough space to indicate how the trio setting plays out. With a wheezing bass line and drum and cymbal brush work underneath, Gjerstad first begins mutating and bending his alto work from trills to clenched squeaks and hollow whistles. The crack of a drumstick on the snare introduces speedier altered and slurred tones, violent triple tonguing and honking. Cycling through many keys and pitches, the saxman introduces a feeling of constant motion, using glosolalia as extreme as anything blown in the energy music years. Cymbals and cowbell pressure from Sanders and a vamping ostinato from Edwards move the accompaniment up a notch, as Gjerstad plows on regardless. Wiggling raw excitement, his staccato phrasing and foghorn honks seem to consume the music in one gulp.

A resonating bass solo plus indirect cymbal pings calm the presentation. Here in this lower-pitched, more pacific output is where Gjerstad sounds as if he's playing a bass clarinet. With the rhythm section occupied with passing tones, he slides chromatically further down the scale, ending with a crescendo of trills matched by the drone of arco bass strings.

Perhaps due to the recording process, there always seems to be an echoing drone emanating from Edwards' strings, unlike the clear sound of Smith produces form his axe. Be that as it may, the Englishman still produces timbres that range from ones that resemble Charlie Haden's foursquare work with Ornette Coleman to steely, Dobro-like finger picking. Sanders, who isn't adverse to exercising his cowbell, sometimes produces tones that sound as if miniature cymbals have been placed on top of his ride and sizzle cymbals. At times he also appears to be using his hands on the snare skin for a more African-style sound.

As for the Norwegian, between his swirl of shrieking high notes and wet bubbles of clearly emphasized split tones -- among other reed exercises -- he exposes a constant fount of ideas, confirming his leadership here, as well as his long tenure as an outside musician in his native country.

Choosing between two woodwind players with the initials FG who both work with bass and drums is impossible. In their hands-across-the-sea meetings both reedists expose two equally valid ways of creating improvised music on these fine CDs.

Track Listing: Voice: 1. Three character attacks: Photographers; 2. The prince; 3. Profound and shallow Two instances of libel/one memory lapse; 4. Increased (a); 5. Increased (b); 6. Impossible Track Listing: Welsh: 1. The Welsh chapel: Part 1; 2. The Welsh chapel: part 2; 3. The Welsh chapel: Part 3; 4. The Welsh chapel: part 4; 5. The Welsh chapel: part 5 Personnel: Voice: Frank Gratkowski, alto saxophone, clarinet, bass clarinet; Damon Smith, bass; Jerome Bryerton, percussion Personnel: Welsh: Frode Gjerstad, alto saxophone, clarinet, bass clarinet; John Edwards, bass; Mark Sanders, drums

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In the Bay Area's tight-knit but internationally networked creative music community, few have worked harder at mastering an instrument and boosting the scene than bassist Damon Smith. His willingness to throw himself into every available context, even when he's in over his head, has accelerated the advancement of his technical skill and his on-the-spot creativity. On the first two releases from yet another local label dedicated to documenting the extemporaneous encounters that occur where only a fraction of the population is willing to go (in terms of both musical ideas and the physical spaces where they're played out), Smith exercises burgeoning talents to absorbing effect.

Mirrors is a set of contrabass duets with German virtuoso Peter Kowald. The first half of the CD captures an April 2000 live performance at Gallery 2310 in Oakland, a half-hour-long musical conversation with extended bowed and pizzicato techniques as the vocabulary. Five days later the pair went into an Oakland studio and recorded seven shorter improvised encounters. What these uncannily like-minded musicians explore is far removed from jazz bass solos that skitter up and down the neck with fluttering runs and tricky double stops. They are immersing themselves in a vast moment in which listening and instantaneously responding are one, with fascinating, rich textures and sonic landscapes as the result.

The Sale of Tickets is a set of 10 instant compositions performed in a two-hour session that took place between the two Kowald-Smith encounters. The instrumentation — Englishman Tony Bevan plays bass sax and local new-music activist Scott R. Looney plays prepared piano and electronics — generates a different, often more pointillist field of sound, but the feel of simultaneous urgency and focused attention is similar to that on Mirrors. Investigating a world opened up by Cecil Taylor, John Cage, Bertram Turetzky, and others, these musicians give us the chance to renew our understanding and experience of music.

Article before review added for your reading enjoyment.

UNAMERICAN ACTIVITIES
Compact Discs in review

The echoic whispers of ghosts, howls from hidden vanished places. (WhereDead Voices Gather - Nick Tosches). Jazz has a substantial documented history, providing quotable references in abundance, often repeating facts that are merely hearsay and often untrue. The six CDs under observation are not "jazz", are not American and are not referenced by that lineage. Four of the participants have been part of my own personal performance history.

Spoken language seems to be a pertinent factor in improvised music, the dialects and colloquialisms creating natural inherent sound and rhythmic structure. The rhythm of the American spoken language, for example, is a major element in the idea of swing. The music under review is influenced by the language systems of Europe and Britain.

Up Deaf Cat Lane, far enough away from even a country road, the chattering classes' endless urban noise is absent from my everyday life, replaced at worst by the occasional whine of a chain saw or the warning bark of a dog, presenting the opportunity of quietude often augmented by the melodious musical calls made by birds and insects, allowing me to relate to the sound of improvised music from another perspective, often appearing as an extension of this natural order.

Having always been a great lover of tunes, especially those of Thelonious Monk and Ornette Coleman, and half-a-century of fanatical devotion to jazz music, it is clear that European improvised music is not a natural extension of that art form, and it cannot be described utilising the same criterion; certainly past academic reasoning. To play improvised music demands a formidable technique, great attention to detail, and an outstanding imagination, as there is no standard support system to lean upon. Only the moment, a moment that is occurring for the audience and performers simultaneously. All hearing it for the first time. The experience is not the simple minded notion of pleasure, although that could be enough, but rather the stimulation of senses, an awakening to a music spontaneously conceived. The CDs under review are a duet and five trios, possibly perfect configurations, allowing an unrestrained familiarity to develop.

Trombonist/cellist G�nter Christmann appears on two of the recordings; in duet with vocalist(!) Phil Minton ("(for) friends and neighbo(u)rs" - concepts of doing cod 008/explico 12) and in trio with Serge Baghdassarians (guitar & electronics) and Boris Baltschun (sampler & electronics) (mal d'archive - concepts of doing cod007/explico 11). (http://www.concepts-of-doing.de)

The duet presents two highly experienced free improvisers at the top of their form � quite my favourite improvised music CD of recent times � illustrating the level of diversity and interaction it's possible to achieve; their dialogue never just casually conversational. Serious wide-ranging topics are clearly apparent. Christmann's arsenal of trombone techniques vocalize their own accord; pops, slurs, squeals and squeaks � a certain grumbling, gathering together with close listening purity. His cello a little more scrabble scratch. There are trade-mark Minton effects; the lunatic opera singer, and Mickey's friend Donald makes a brief appearance. They emerge occasionally sanctified, small chills creeping from darkly shadowed ominous corners, a certain casual danger, only to burst forth into uproarious laughter.

G�nter Christmann's musical journey began in 1968 and embodies a variety of disciplines which include a tenure with the legendary Globe Unity Orchestra. From the late seventies on he developed a series under the generic name VARIO working and touring with an international who's who of musicians; once even in Canada (1979). His fancy has seen him working with dancers, actors and acrobats, and in live performance with film; some of which he himself creates. He has also mastered the difficult art of solo trombone playing.

The second CD has a quite different feel, more minimalist in character with spikey, brittle and somewhat edgey results utilising the current language of electronically generated sound sources, the 15 short pieces (1:44 - 8:04) seemingly tightly contained, often creating an unsettling urgency, or in contrast carefully restrained and overly fastidious character refinements.

Drummer/percussionist Roger Turner, an accomplice of both Christmann and Minton, appears on two trio CDs, Konk Pack - Big Deep - GROB 102 (http://www.churchofgrob.com) with Tim Hodgkinson (flat guitar, electronics, clarinet & alto saxophone) and Thomas Lehn (analogue synthesizer), and PUT - Umlaut - NURNICHTNUR CD 1000425 (www.nurnichtnur.de) with Birgit Ulher (trumpet) and Ulrich Phillipp (double bass).

As with Minton, Turner and Hodgkinson come from a British history with the influential language of two 1950's shows; the Goon Show on radio and Bill and Ben the Flowerpot Men on television. Both revolutionary programs that utilised an incredible array of sound effects, much of which has found its way into everyday language. For example The Flowerpot Men's language, officially called Oddle Poddle, was notable for being almost completely incomprehensible: "Waddle oo tikoo dop? Gloob a waddle a hop" for example, translates as "What do you think of that? Gloves as well as a hat".

The inclusion of percussion, or indeed dissimilar combinations of instruments, immediately alters the music's personality, and with Konk Pack percussion appears as its centrepiece, with Turner's facile, fleet and focussed contribution giving the music an internal rapidity. Unlike many free improvisers his history begins with strong sixties jazz roots, a love of music performed by Ornette, Mingus, Coltrane et al, often giving this music an original element of "swing". As a trio they demonstrate a visceral integrated music, the end result a recognizable collective character. Over the course of the six pieces � each with a different personality � the dynamic/aural range and the vast array of electronic and rhythmic combinations allow us to experience the possibilities available. The longest piece (not head only in - 18:41) is a superb example of how interest is sustained in improvised music; moving about, developing from minimal flutter-click-clatter to a powerful surging "composition" � dare I say: "swinging like the clappers" � always creating an unhesitant linear story. In contrast there is the quietly abstracted; or elongated wave forms creating great drama, imagining other bodies, a mime perhaps. Bursts of energy from a landscape of tiny tinny squiggles, pushing jerkily forward. Occasionally a skittery clarinet, the odd jolly moment, but certainly not a joke. And not a music of high-tech electronics � even an old radio might do it. The finalé approaches roar with a most dramatic ending of abrupt silence. Quite my favourite band at the Victo 2000 gathering, and the first example of electronically integrated music to catch my fancy.

The final 2 CDs, the above listed Umlaut, and Three October Meetings - balance point acoustics 003 (www.balancepointacoustics.com) with Wolfgang Fuchs (contrabass & bass clarinets, and sopranino saxophone), Jerome Bryerton (percussion) and Damon Smith (double bass), could superficially imply that the inclusion of bass and drums would steer the results toward jazz, create a rhythm section. This of course is not the case, not the intention, for even with this configuration the music is collectively created.

Umlaut gives us a continuous series of mostly miniatures, a series of dramatic vignettes in the form of sound sculptures � textural, pointillist portraits � each containing a certain delicacy among its brusque phrasing. A tad secret with a Zen sensibility, relying on a listener's certain mood. I believe it was Gerry Mulligan who said of Monk's music � "it is the silences as much as the notes", and in this music, so far removed from American history, it is often the silences that guide its course.

The recording with Wolfgang Fuchs finds him in the company of two younger Americans born in the same year that he began performing in public. His journey is well documented, his founding and leading the King Übü Örchestrü in 1983 an important stage in the ongoing language of Improvisation. This music, although with American partners, is much in his customary style; buzzy, insistent and often densely forceful. The snakey, sliding, somewhat brittle sopranino, popping, squealing, manipulated with fleet of tongue technique; the lower clef clarinets burbling away. The three meetings, two live and one in a studio, vary from brief forays to more extended works, and have an inclination toward obliging.

Are these replications of life sound, of everyday experience? Does it matter if it's rural or urban? In the end it's written language describing sound, sounds for which other ears may hear other voices.

Brimming with a sensibility that comes from both so-called serious experimental music and free improv, ZERO PLUS adds a vocal component to the work of Bay-area bassist Damon Smith, who has taking a Cook's tour of Euro-centred improv over the past half-decade.

Adding American know-how -- and local associates -- to recorded meetings with such accomplished EuroImprov practitioners as German multi-reedman Wolfgang Fuchs and Swedish-based saxist Biggi Vinkeloe, the bassist now tours with Fuchs. Not content reaching one plateau, Smith is part of many other bands, including the triple d trio, expanded by the clarinets of young Jacob Lindsay, a member of Marco Eneidi's American Jungle Orchestra and the wordless vocalizing of Aurora Josephson. Besides working in free improv contexts, Josephson has performed with some of the more open-minded contemporary composers such as Alvin Curran and Christian Wolff

This CD mixes the Bay area trio, with two longtime EuroImprov collaborators: British violinist Philipp Wachsmann -- who often works with reedist Evan Parker-- and German drummer Martin Blume. The drummer's interactions have included work with multi-directional British players as reedist John Butcher.

Overall, strategy seems to be to meld Josephson's tones with one or another front-line instrument, while the other players fill in the gaps. One exception to this rule is "Two men in Straw Hats/Big Fleas have Little Fleas" where the linked titles may be the clue that the tune's first couple or so minutes are a duet between the bassist and vocalist.

Lindsay then enters with harsh tongue slaps that angle up to intermittent squeaks and flutter tonguing, a style that owes as much to Vinny Golia as Eric Dolphy. With a powerful bass interpolation, drum rumbles and cymbal smacks, the space is cleared for Wachsmann to extend his fiddle plucks with electronic loops. At the same time, the vocalist tries on many sound guises from dog barking to strangled yelling. As the piece accelerates to multi-counterpoint at cross-purposes, it takes circular string sections, segmented drums rebounds and a woody split tone from the clarinet to ease it to a finale.

"Scissors Cut Paper", the inaugural -- and at more than 13 minutes -- longest track sets up the situation from the beginning. Working off descending violin spiccato, rattling bass drum bops and bass clarinet buzzes, the tune evolves into a examination of broken harmonies that ricochet between aviary crackles from the reedist and panting breathes from the vocalist. Soon the violinist's and bassist's legato lines coalesce then soften into deconstructed squeaks, clicks and cries. Switching partners -- and with Smith sounding a sul tasto line -- Josephson first warbles, then yawns, then growls. Lindsay and Wachsmann together are soon on the case, the reedman with echoing vibrations and the fiddler with squeaking ponticello. As Blume rolls over the skins, Wachsmann produces frailing banjo-like pizzicato, climaxing in arco unison with Josephson's voice.

Banjo-like, mandolin-like and other pizzicato approximations aren't the veteran violinist's only ruses. On "Long Tail on a Ghost", his double and triple stopping sound as if they're coming from a Chinese guzheng. At best they perfectly match Blume's rattling nerve beats and snare raps that could come from a Chinese dulcimer hammered with bamboo sticks.

Elsewhere, Wachsmann's electronic ponticello loops are most useful on "Table Z", as backdrop for Lindsay's most extensive reed showcase. Twittering-bird like tones, body tube resonation and fluttering vibrations are expelled, at points meeting up with Josephson's verbal peeps.

As for the vocalist, sometimes she warbles like a lyric soprano with feathery whippoorwill cries. Or in contrast she keens like a grieving widow, constructing a portion of her solo out of panting obbligato. She giggles, sniffs and expels semi-orgasmic cries other places. But -- and hopefully this isn't misplaced gallantry -- it's one of the males who supplies the evil growls, cartoon pirate cackles and Bronx cheers. Overall, her timbres fit tongue-and-groove with shuffle bowing and sul tasto string parts, emphasized chalumeau reed portions and speedy fragmented drum patterns.

ZERO PLUS is an interesting change of pace for Smith and the others, but at nearly 69 minutes, the feeling remains that some judicious cutting would have resulted in a far more satisfying CD. The youthful Californians have proven that they can work in the company of the veterans. What else they do will be worth hearing.

Track Listing: Zero: The Hairy Heel of Achilles 1. Scissors Cut Paper 2. Tiger, Tiger! 3. Long Tail on a Ghost 4. The Deadly Tube La Tricoteuse: 5. Two men in Straw Hats/Big Fleas have Little Fleas 6. A Bird with a Wing Down Zerotables: 7. Facts or Figures 8. Table Z 9. Zero Minus 10. Zero 11. Zero Plus

Personnel: Zero: Jacob Lindsay (Ab, Bb and bass clarinets); Philipp Wachsmann (violin, electronics); Damon Smith (bass); Martin Blume (percussion); Aurora Josephson (voice)

 
BIRGIT ULHER - DAMON SMITH - MARTIN BLUME Sperrgut (Balance Point Acoustics, bpa009): Damon Smith (*1972, Spokane, WA) verdankte Mike Watt 1991 den Kick vom BMX-Bicycle-Freestyler zum Fenderbassisten, bevor ihn 1994 die Bekanntschaft mit der Musik von Peter Kowald zum Kontrabass wechseln ließ und damit erneut zum Freestyle. Seitdem war er vor allem im Kontext mit dem Altosaxophonisten Marco Eneidi zu hören, mit Gianni Gebbia und auch Kowald persönlich oder auch im Emergency String Quartet und im Dave Tucker West Coast Project (beides BA-einschlägig). Seit einiger Zeit widmet sich das BPA-Label in Oakland speziell seiner Musik, mit der er auffallend häufig Begegnungen mit Musikern aus Germany sucht - neben Kowald etwa Wolfgang Fuchs, Frank Gratkowski, Serge Baghdassarians, Boris Baltschun oder Martin Blume (Zero Plus, bpa007). Erneut mit dem Bochumer Drummer und mit der Trompeterin Birgit Ulher, beide im Oktober 2004 auf musikalischer Stipvisite an der West Coast, gelingt Smith eine exemplarische Reihe von Soundclashes, geradezu fiebrige Stenographien aus geräuschhaften Kürzeln, die durch ihre Quickness und spritzige Fülle am ‚expressiven‘, besser, am dynamischen Pol der Plinkplonkskala herum wirbeln. Rasende Molekularbewegungen, so schnell und funkelnd, dass die Lautpixel bei aller Kompression und Reibung soviel ‚Luft‘, soviel Zeit und Raum zwischen sich lassen wie die Sternenmilch und der Satellitenschrott im Makrokosmos. Sperrgut ist ein schönes deutsches Wort und lässt anklingen, dass sich darunter noch allerhand Brauchbares finden ließe, statt es zu zerschreddern und in Müllheizkraftwerken durch den Schlot zu jagen. Sperrig ist die schnarrende, spuckig zerstotterte, schabende, rappelnde, mit erstaunlichen Saitenverbiegungen aufwartende Ästhetik des Trios insofern, dass sie nicht glatt ins Ohr rutscht, dass sie aneckt, kratzt, kitzelt, irritiert, manchmal zu winzig für das Auge, oft zu schnell für das Ohr. Dass zwischen Sperrgut und Müll Platz für ein riesiges Kulturindustriegebiet bleibt, ist freilich nicht gerade eine Neuigkeit. Bad Alchemy Rigobert Dittmann Franz-Ludwig-Str.11 97072 Würzburg

I admire both Jöelle Léandre and Damon Smith for their ability to adapt convincingly to whatever situation presents itself. This new disc is a particularly strong case in point. All members of the group prove malleable without necessitating any sacrifice or creating negative tension. Of course, there are the most readily apparent meldings, such as the finest moments of “Un Souer de Charite”; Léandre and Josephson become a single instrument as the latter switches from shrillings and raspings to a beautiful full-voice that blooms rather than simply swelling. Léandre reacts—precipitates?—with arco tremolo in thirds or seconds, all elements meshing in a kind of static “third space”. As wonderful as such occurrences are, it’s even more spectacular to hear how the two basses joust, react and merge; there’s some extraordinarily intense listening going on, every moment realizing one combinatorial possibility only to leave myriad others satellite, yet the results are almost always satisfying. The other “pitched” musicians indulge Smith’s penchant for tonal passages with alacrity, Josephson swinging the gamut from Mintonesque gurgles and screeches to full-throated Patty Waters-inflected blues. Far removed from it’s “French” counterpart from the live material, “Imaginary paintings/Imaginary Frames” becomes a song without words as Josephson slides, swoops and glides over it, Smith, Léandre and Blume providing a rock-solid and immensely sensitive landscape through which she travels. As with many improv discs, it is sometimes difficult to tell precisely who’s responsible for any given sound, Martin Blume being partially responsible for the confusion. He is superb, and this project, as well as his other work for the label, make me eager to hear as much from him as I can. He strikes with force, rattles and shimmers with wisdom and clarity, changing timbre if not style from piece to piece. “The Elusive Basilisk” finds him at his most transparent, and are those whips he’s woofing around? The studio half of the disc bristles with as much energy as do the live portions. The recording is first-rate. Another fine disc from what is becoming one of my favorite improv labels. ~ Marc Medwin