Jazz and Improvised

Obara International
Komeda
For Tune 007

Does it make a difference if musicians performing a work are of the same nationality as its composer? While the concept is iffy at best, sometimes it seems as if nationalism can add an extra oomph to the playing. So it is with this CD, where four Polish jazzmen expand to epic length interpretations of pieces by Krzysztof Komeda. Best known in the West for his soundtrack writing, including Rosemary’s Baby and The Fearless Vampire Killers, Komeda (1931-1969) was also in on the birth of Polish modern jazz and remains the best-known composer from that era.

Overall, the vivid effervescence which characterizes the performance here centres on the contrast between the flowery romanticism of pianist Dominik Wania and the bellicose intensity of alto saxophonist Maciej Obara: a division which often characterizes Polish music in general. Moving between the extremes are bassist Ole Morten Vågan and drummer Gard Nilssen, who provide appropriate secondary textures. Throughout the initial four pieces Wania’s overwrought impressionism, reminiscent of Keith Jarrett’s, speedily glides through tracks such as Etiudy Baletowe with busy glissandi that swing powerfully, while Obara’s reed-biting emphasis adds a tough rigidity that tempers the pianist’s more theatrical tendencies.

With the more-than-20-minute Komeda’s Medley, that sutures together three of the composer’s tunes, the four reach perfect and exciting equilibrium. By the mid-section Obara’s stridency has modulated to smoother, yet still powerful tones; while the pianist’s initial Ravel-like cascading uses downward chord clusters to meet the saxophonist’s brittle prickly playing. Eventually as Obara continues spitting out short repeated motifs, it’s Wania’s tripled tremolo lines which powerfully join with the reedist for an appropriate continuum and conclusion.

Nationalism may be more a political than a musical concern in the 21st century, but on Komeda this combination of Polish compositions interpreted by Polish soloists pays unbeatable dividends for the listener.

As genres draw closer to one another, the idea of a musician from one area playing and composing a work in another area doesn’t seem so far-fetched. More importantly the sophistication of many contemporary performers means that these inter-genre excursions are triumphant rather than merely passable. One form that is being explored by improvising musicians for instance is composing for the bedrock of the so-called classical music tradition: string groupings.

Torontonians get a chance to experience this when the Afiara Quartet joins pianist Uri Caine at Koerner Hall May 23 to play his composition for jazz piano and string quartet. Caine who has spent the past 15 years creating intriguing post-modern variants on works by, among others, Bach, Wagner and Mahler, provides a new take on tunes by early jazz-classical crossover icon George Gershwinon Rhapsody in Blue (Winter & Winter 910.205-2). Although it features only Caine, bassist Mark Helias, violinist Joyce Hammann, reedist Chris Speed, trumpeter Ralph Alessi, drummer Jim Black plus vocalists Theo Bleckmann and Barbara Walker, Caine’s take on familiar Gershwin compositions suggests the potential surprises that may result at Koerner Hall. Vocalists provide novel song interpretations, especially on a deconstructed They Can’t Take That Away from Me where yodelling and burbling is harmonized with trumpet triplets and percussion slaps. As well as operating in different metres and tempos, Caine’s solo uniquely shades How Long Has This Been Going On. But it’s the title track which is the CD’s showpiece. With an ensemble one-quarter the size of Paul Whiteman’s band which premiered the concerto in 1924, not only do Caine and company provide a sophisticated jazz sensibility, but his 22-and-a-half-minute-arrangement augments hitherto unexplored nuances in Gershwin’s score. Capturing the famous introductory glissandi, Speed’s clarinet tone includes Klezmer inflections while Alessi’s later call-and-response with the clarinetist adds Latinesque echoes and genuine emotion to the program. At one point when the trumpeter’s apex of excitedly modulated tones is coupled with pseudo-stride piano, it suggests how much more interesting Rhapsody in Blue might have been if initially performed by Louis Armstrong and James P. Johnson. True to the score, especially during Hammon’s violin parts, the sextet reaches an appropriately exciting climax at the 20-minute mark as Black’s thoroughly modern rollicking swing spurs the soloists. By the conclusion, as the underlying beat turns to a witty march rhythm, the theme is extended with jabbing keyboard lines.

Also emphatically meeting the string-writing challenge is pianist Vijay Iyer, whose Mutations (ECM CD 2372) is based around ten compositional fragments for string quartet, piano and electronics. More prominent during the solo piano pieces which frame this chef d’oeuvre, electronics gently quiver during Mutations I-X as Iyer generously shares interpretation space with violinists Miranda Cuckson and Michi Wiancko, violist Kyle Armbrust and cellist Kivie Cahn-Lipman. Named for incremental genetic changes, the Mutations sequences are linked, but the through-composed material is structured in such a way that cerebral string improvisation is encouraged and blended both with piano cross-pulsing and recorded samples of the string playing. Concluding with a triumphant eruption of frenzied staccato string passages with an affiliated rhythm in Mutation X: Time, these Mutations cycle through many properties as they evolve. Latterly suggesting canon-like cohesion, earlier variants display skittering string harshness layered as frequently as harmonic cohesion. On Mutation IV: Chain for instance, keyboard patterning and string glissandi cross and re-cross one another following a heartbreaking solo violin interlude, saved from ur-romanticism by Carnatic-like percussion pumps from the lower-pitched strings. Tone laddering and detaching is present throughout the suite, with Iyer maintaining interest by including enough jocular and linear passages to keep the composition organically whole no matter how many sinewy string curves or processed extrusions are involved. A cohesive exploration of the possibilities available from focused composing, Mutations’ shimmering colour palate fittingly expands the steaming blues-jazz inferences in the solo piano tracks which precede and follow it.

From Léandre’s frenzied sawing coupled with sibilant whispers to the emphasis on new roles for mass string ensembles advanced by Salamon, these sessions outline some of the paths to couple improvisation with the liberating compositions for strings. Caine will likely supply yet another concept.

Another move away from idiomatic usage of strings as merely melody sweeteners is exhibited by German trombonist Nils Wogram, who integrates violin, viola and cello into his Root 70 quartet on Riomar (Wog Records 007). Although there are portions towards the end when the harmonizing gets a little too overripe, stabbing staccato from Matt Penman’s supple double bass on a track such as Song for Bernhard roughens the strings to give passages more texture. More generic are pieces such as Vacation without Internet and the title tune where the precarious string-band balance works imposingly. On Riomar Gareth Lubbe’s distinctively mournful viola tone sets the scene appropriately enough so that when Hayden Chisholm’s dissonant alto saxophone timbres sound, the instruments are perfectly matched. From then on, as synchronized strings quiver, solo lines from Wogram (plunger and smeary), cellist Adrian Brendel (sharp and sul ponticello), and Chisholm (spiky or mellow), extend the tunes. With drummer Jochen Rueckert limiting himself to off-beats, Vacation without Internet is even more sophisticated. Not only do the peppy string parts loop around the steady rhythm and rapid-fire bop changes from Wogram, but their other-directed arco plucking at the top combines elegance and earthiness in such a manner that it takes a while to realize that Penman has begun thumping a steady rhythm. Ironically it’s Mental Isolation (dedicated to Duke Ellington) whose spewed and strained microtonal theme elaboration provides the closest resemblance to new music. Then again Wogram’s dazzlingly tremolo tones here follow a direct line from Lawrence Brown`s mellow trombone blowing in the Ellington band.

Dealing with a three-person string section is audacious enough, but Slovenian guitarist Samo Salamon has set himself a more formidable task. On Free Strings Orchestrology (KGOSF VD 013) he and drummer Roberto Dani interpret his compositions alongside the Slovene Philharmonic String Chamber Orchestra of eight violinists, three violists, two cellists and a double bassist. To be honest, dealing with 14 string players at points becomes too onerous, and the resulting synchronized tones can resemble those of a pit orchestra running through an overture. Because of the harmonic juxtaposition, at full force the string parts often produce a too familiar smoothness with waltz, tango and semi-classical inferences, and – especially when the guitarist’s licks merely advance a theme – nearly replicate a sort of James Last/Paul Mauriat lushness. Other tracks are more formal and processional, leavened by Salamon’s spidery licks, or dampened down with an overriding Mozartian classicism. Happily, improvisational toughness from Salamon and Dani rescues most of the program. For instance Mea Culpa moves along with herky-jerky glissandi from the strings and maintains a strong swing emphasis even when the melody takes on an over-familiar lilt. In complete contrast Miss Sarcasm is harsher and more percussive. Here staccato strings advance alongside clanking drums plus a guitar part that turns to bass-guitar-like thumps as it sheepdog-like herds the bow players into connective motions. Dutilleux is probably the CD’s high point, as the guitarist’s distorted timbres and fluid chording are perfectly attuned to the leaping and pulsing strings. Romantic inferences from solo violinist Janez Podlesek join the drummer’s clanking cymbals and the guitarist’s wah-wah pedal to mould the stimulating climax.

While other discs are concerned with the place of strings in advanced settlings, French violinist/violist Théo Ceccaldi goes one step further, reconstituting the most revered of European ensembles: the string quartet. On Can You Smile (Ayler Records AYLCD 136), his Trio+1 also includes guitarist Guillaume Aknine, cellist Valentin Ceccaldi and bassist Joëlle Léandre. Throughout the emphasis is on atonality, with each player doing his or her best to disrupt the proceedings at the same time as bonding during the 11 compositions. Case in point is Brosse à chaussure where sharp, sul ponticello quivers from the cellist and violist sprawl alongside the guitarist’s chromatic picking, only to mix twangs and triple stopping in an exciting conclusion. On the other hand Sirènes et bas de laine finds Léandre and Aknine strumming a continuum while tremolo glissandi from the viola replicate reed slurs. Finally Hirondelles parcels out the dissonance among all the strings, as every sequence becomes narrower and more staccato, until unexpectedly a measured combination in the final 30 seconds produces a quixotic climax. Throughout, the bassist’s florid nonsense syllable verbalization constantly mocks any high-art pretentiousness associated with a string quartet, while preserving an innate musicality. Fancifully the sounds from this Trio+1 may be what could have resulted if one of the serialists had composed for a Roma ensemble, with the added virtue of a sense of humour.

From Léandre’s frenzied sawing coupled with sibilant whispers to the emphasis on new roles for mass string ensembles advanced by Salamon, these sessions outline some of the paths to couple improvisation with the liberating compositions for strings. Caine will likely supply yet another concept.

Pianist/composer Kris Davis has followed a musical path from her native Vancouver to Calgary to the University of Toronto and on to Brooklyn, where she’s a key member of one of the world’s most creative jazz scenes, playing solo, leading her own ensembles and working in a number of bands and ad hoc ensembles with other notable musicians like saxophonists Ingrid Laubrock and Tony Malaby and guitarist Mary Halvorson.

A recent highlight is Waiting for You to Grow (Clean Feed CF292 cleanfeed-records.com) by her trio with bassist John Hébert and drummer Tom Rainey. Recorded in May 2013 after the group had just completed a European tour, the CD demonstrates both developed empathy and a keen familiarity with the nuances and possibilities of Davis’ compositions. At times, Davis and her partners seem to be redefining the piano trio in percussive terms that see instruments playing essentially rhythmic patterns, often elaborating dense polyrhythms. If that suggests an exploration of the roots of jazz in African music, it’s also aligned here with the early percussion music of John Cage. The sonic explorations of another experimental composer are referenced directly in Berio, a complex, analytical work that suggests the compound methodologies of late serialism as much as the free play of sonic particles.

Those references to modern concert music take even greater prominence with Massive Threads (Thirsty Ear THI57208-2 thirstyear.com), Davis’ second CD of solo piano music. It’s somber and playful, spontaneous and inevitable, an outstanding CD in any genre to which it might be assigned. The title track moves from ponderous bass clusters in alternating hands, eventually progressing upward in pitch, becoming quieter all the time, until it disappears. Many of the pieces are built around similar ideas of transformation. In the remarkable Ten Exorcists for prepared piano, Davis initially creates complex rhythmic dialogue around a single pitch. Dancing Marlins is playfully pointillist in the extreme, its random Morse code eventually turning into phrases that would be at home in the blues. Thelonious Monk’s Evidence reveals itself in evanescent bits, finally emerging as a continuous two-handed improvisation in multiple meters. 

Davis’ position at the forefront of current jazz is further apparent in her membership in tenor saxophonist Matt Bauder’s Day in Pictures on Nightshades (Clean Feed CF289). The idiom is post-bop, with roots in the mid-60s Blue Note school of Sam Rivers and Andrew Hill, but it’s also informed by a further 50 years of improvised music, with both traditions firmly in place, whether in the foreground or lurking in the shadows. Davis’ lines are at once limpid and precise on Bauder’s Starr Wykoff, a ballad that might have been penned by Thelonious Monk in 1958. Apparently named for the Brooklyn coffee shop called Wykoff Starr, it might even be a Monk title. Elsewhere sudden random runs from Davis and explosions of multiphonics from Bauder and trumpeter Nate Wooley (the two Americans are also the frontline in expatriate drummer Harris Eisenstadt’s Canada Day) confirm this is insistently current music.

Cory Weeds’ policy of bringing in guest artists to perform at Vancouver’s Cellar Jazz club has created some memorable collaborations. David “Fathead” Newman & the Tilden Webb Trio’s Cellar Groove (Cellar Live CL090113 cellarlive.com) is definitely one of them. Newman, who died in 2009, was already 71 when this was recorded in 2004. Best known for his work with Ray Charles, Newman was an adept saxophonist and flutist who could hold his own with hard bop masters like Lee Morgan when the opportunity arose. Here he tours the terrain of bop (Dizzy Gillespie’s A Night in Tunisia), hard bop (Hank Mobley’s This I Dig of You) and modal jazz (pianist Webb’s Roundabout), clearly enjoying the superb accompaniment of Webb’s trio with bassist Jodi Proznick and drummer Jesse Cahill, a band in itself that propels Newman and his enthusiasm alike.

Another Vancouver band that shows the positive effects of working regularly is the Mike Allen Quartet with pianist Miles Black, bassist Adam Thomas and drummer Julian MacDonough. Embracing a broad modernism, the group has hosted the official jam sessions of the Vancouver Festival for years and they’re also the jazz ensemble-in-residence at Western Washington University where saxophonist Allen directs the jazz program. On Panorama (Cellar Live CCL121013), trombonist Hugh Fraser, whose suave bluster has long graced Vancouver jazz, is the featured guest. Allen has his own sound, at once forceful and muffled, and it gives his work immediate dimension, but every musician here contributes to a consistent sense of substance. The opening Get Back may be playful jazz funk, but Allen’s Let Go Rise Atone and Black’s San Miguel are imbued with luminous depths.

The members of the David Rubel Quartet are all at the outset of their careers. Products of Jazz Studies at the University of Toronto, tenor saxophonist Rubel, pianist Winston Matsushita, bassist Malcolm Connor and drummer Robin Claxton range in age from the early to mid-20s. On Into the Dark (davidrubelmusic.com), Rubel’s current emphases are a strong melodic focus and repeated modal figures, delivered with a rich tenor sound over infectious rhythms, including 5/4 and 7/4. It’s engaging, well-played music with a strong sense of mood, though at this stage that very consistency threatens at times to turn it into background music. The highlight is Matthew, with Rubel adding sudden, fluting, upper register swirls to vary his approach.

The Big Picture
David Krakauer
Table Pounding TDR 002 davidkrakauer.com

Anti-Semitism or approval is behind the oft-repeated canard that “Jews run Hollywood,“ but certainly no one can deny the influence producers, directors, writers and composers of Jewish background have had on the history of cinema. Clarinetist David Krakauer pays tribute to Hollywood’s Semitic tinge on The Big Picture performing a dozen songs from films whose actors, director, composer or themes reflect Jewish topics. Considering that the movies range from Sophie’s Choice to The Producers it’s fortunate that Krakauer’s equally varied musical affiliations have encompassed John Zorn, the Klezmatics, Itzhak Perlman and symphony orchestras.

Krakauer’s usual strategy is to retain the jaunty theme to songs like “Tradition“ from Fiddler on the Roof, as slippery clarinet trills; Jenny Scheinman’s see-sawing violin strings and pedal reverb from Adam Rogers’ guitars contrast a parallel musical identity for the tune. These novel arrangments work whether the psychedelic guitar excess on “Honeycomb“ from Lenny is over-emphasized, or whether on “Si Tu Vois Ma Mére“ used in Midnight in Paris, Krakauer subverts the rote two-beat Dixieland from Jim Black’s drums with roadhouse boogie bumps from bass and rhythm guitar as well as disco-era sound loops. At the same time while skittering fiddle modulations, accordion slurs and strumming guitar lines may give a piece like “Love Theme“ from Sophie’s Choice an interface that sounds more Palm Springs than Poland, Krakauer’s own tone, complete with heartfelt trills and spectro-fluctuation never mocks the music’s underlying melancholy.

More to the point Krakauer’s reed skill is such that he makes you hear some songs in new ways. Playing bass clarinet on Funny Girl’s middle-of-road staple “People“ for instance, his intense vibrato joined with cascading piano chords and violin runs strengthens the melody’s poignancy without letting it fall into sentimentality. Overall The Big Picture is an outstanding salute to movies, music and movie music, whatever their origins.