Lucid Culture

JAZZ, CLASSICAL MUSIC AND THE ARTS IN NEW YORK CITY

Literally Otherworldly, Entertaining Sounds From Sarah Weaver

OK – you open your new album with an almost nineteen-minute drum solo. Career suicide attempt?

Actually, Gerry Hemingway’s performance of Sarah Weaver’s gamelanesque hailstorm of a composition is vastly more interesting than most drum solos, and in a way it sets the stage for the entertainment to come on her latest, deep-space inspired album Synchrony Series. It hasn’t made it to the usual spots on the web, although there are bits and pieces at Weaver’s youtube channel..

Bombast is happily absent; what we get is a a very subtle upward drive from a steady drizzle on the cymbals and some neat accents on what seem to be extremely detuned tom-toms. People with short attention spans will not be able to handle much of this music, but for those dedicated to what Pauline Oliveros called deep listening, it’s a treat. It’s very psychedelic, by the way.

Long before the lockdown forced musicians to use the web to collaborate, Weaver was patching in people around the world to create ensembles that otherwise never could have existed. There’s some of that here on the record. The second number, Symmetry of Presence features bass trombone legend David Taylor playing a ridiculously funny series of ideas through an increasingly surreal series of Weaver’s effects – although his vaunted extended technique really gets a workout before the electronics kick in. So much of this kind of music is mannered and fearful: this is 180 degrees from that.

An allstar eleven-piece ensemble play the darkly sprawling, practically forty-minute suite Interhere, a soundscape in the AACM tradition. Min Xiao-Fen’s spiky pipa first takes centerstage over Mark Dresser’s keening bass overtones and the massed horns of Taylor, trumpeter James Zollar, soprano saxophonist Jane Ira Bloom, reedman Ned Rothenberg, bassoonist Sara Schoenbeck and oboeist Julie Ferrara. Denman Maroney’s piano introduces icy menace; it’s not clear what or who pansori-influenced singer Yoon Sun Choi is addressing, if at all. More than a hint of franticness; squirrelly dissociation; Tower of Babel chatter from all points; quasi-baroque lockstep; ominous swells on the low end; cold spring desolation fried into 5G microwave shriek: does this feel vaguely familiar?

The album’s disorienting fourth number is just the composer on vocals and Joe McPhee’s trumpet, running through a maze of effects, challenging both themselves and the listener to find a calm center. The final, practically hourlong epic was recorded by most of the large ensemble here, bolstered by an online cast utilizing samples from the Kepler space telescope.

These melodies, created by the orbits of stars and planets millions of miles away, have a stately, gamelanesque quality that validates Johannes Kepler’s theories about celestial harmonies, but almost droll oscillations as well. Is humor implicit in the physics of planetary and solar mass? It would seem so. The musicians respond to those motives with a playful aplomb, bringing to mind Gil Evans as his most celestial as well as Anthony Braxton in galactically tectonic mode – as well as the most primitive video games.

The long liftoff sequence midway through is a lot of fun; the outer-space drift elsewhere is just as entertaining, while the increasingly pensive exchange afterward is a sobering reflection on our ultimate place amidst the dust of stars. This magnum opus has a lot to get lost in.

June 5, 2020 Posted by | avant garde music, jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wadada Leo Smith Does It Again

Forget for a minute that Wadada Leo Smith’s new album Dark Lady of the Sonnets, with his trio Mbira, is a summit meeting of three of the most compelling voices in jazz improvisation. More than anything, it’s a celebration of being alive. An intimately majestic, sometimes exuberant, warmly conversational album, it’s a must-own for fans of free jazz. Then again, that could be said about a lot of the Wadada Leo Smith, Min Xiao-Fen and Pheeroan akLaff catalogs. This particular session, recorded in 2007 in Finland and released worldwide just now on the reliably adventurous Tum Records label, captures the trio exploring Smith’s permutations on ancient Shona melodies from west Africa.

In the liner notes (which include comprehensive bios for each artist), Smith traces a line back from himself to Louis Armstrong, a connection that might not seem evident at first listen, but up close becomes very clear. Steeped in the blues as a child, Smith never lost that idiom’s terse soulfulness. What’s more, this album is remarkably rhythmic for a free jazz session, something that Smith’s cohorts here deserve credit for as well.

But first Smith goes back to a bell-like Miles Davis tone on the first track, Sarah Bell Wallace, a dedication to his mother, trumpet austerely calling for a dutiful response from spiky thickets of pipa plucking and rolling, suspenseful drums in turn. AkLaff’s signature drum sound, playing actual melody rather than simply rhythm, is in vivid effect here. It’s a warily soulful portrait of an indomitable woman who obviously knew suffering but rose above it and brought her family along.

Min Xiao-Fen, who is afraid of nothing and will play anything, is often the wild card here, bringing her signature sense of humor to Blues: Cosmic Beauty, a story of renewal. Peering up through Smith’s alternately flurrying and richly sustained, restrained lines, she swoops, dives and vocalizes a little, finally ceding to the trumpet on the chorus (much as there’s a great deal of improvisation going on, there’s a clearly defined architecture to all these works).

Zulu Water Festival, meant to evoke South Africans dancing on surface of a lake, juxtaposes a festive melody to a stately allusive groove and a strikingly spacious interlude held down by akLaff’s apprehensively nuanced, drony rumble. The title track, a Billie Holiday homage, puts the pipa player to work as a singer again, low and intimate as the conversation between instruments slowly rises, finally reaching bop fervor as Smith takes the trio out rattling and flurrying. The final track is a suite simply titled Mbira, a spiritually-inspired ballet based on Shona thumb piano music, with variations on a hypnotic circular theme. An animated dialogue between the three instruments swells and ebbs, with akLaff almost imperceptibly building to what seems like an inevitable crescendo with gorgeously nebulous washes of cymbals. Pipa, vocals and trumpet move from calm and sustained to agitated, Min finally swooping down coyly to meet Smith’s summoning call and then setting the whole thing ablaze with a forest of tremolo-picking as akLaff rumbles and leapfrogs his way out of it. It ends on an ambiguous note – maybe there’s a sequel lying in wait.

Also recently out on the Cuneiform label is Smith’s considerably more electric, aggressive and compositionally-oriented Heart’s Reflections double cd with his Organic band, featuring akLaff along with guitarists Michael Gregory and Brandon Ross along with a wide assortment of downtown New York types. Smith will be giving both of these bands a workout along with his Golden Quartet, Golden Quintet and Silver Orchestra as he celebrates his 70th birthday at the new Roulette space in Brooklyn on Dec 15 and 16 at 8 PM.

December 13, 2011 Posted by | jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Wild Adventures in Pipaland

Min Xiao-Fen is one of the great musical adventurers of our time. The Chinese expat pipa player/singer has opened for Bjork at the Garden and played a solo set of Thelonious Monk arranged for pipa at Carnegie Hall. Her instrument is a Chinese lute whose name derives from the sounds the strings make when hit with up or down strokes, either “pi” or “pa.” Accomplished in a vast variety of styles including traditional Chinese, jazz and western classical music, she clearly delights in blending these styles together to create a sound that is uniquely her own. With her literally panstylistic group the Blue Pipa Trio, featuring Steve Salerno on electric guitar and Dean Johnson on upright bass, she played a set that was as exciting as it was challenging and sometimes absolutely baffling to the older, lunchtime crowd gathered at Trinity Church this afternoon.

The group opened with a rearrangement of a traditional Chinese instrumental, Salerno impressing with a soulful, bluesy solo toward the end. The next piece, Dancing with the Moon, an attractively nocturnal, traditional number saw Johnson playing some amazing, Stanley Clarke-style fills, all swoops, dives and even high harmonics. He had the treble turned up all the way on his pickup, making every note distinct. Min and Salerno played graceful cascades against each other, sometimes changing up the rhythm and playing against the beat.

Min then put down her pipa and sang what she termed “an early Chinese pop song,” possibly titled The Sweetness of Flowers at Night. Johnson played what was essentially a pipa arrangement on bass, fast staccato runs around the simple, torchy chord changes. Although the lyrics were incomprehensible to non-Chinese speakers, Min allowed an eeriness in her vocals: the song would fit perfectly in a vintage David Lynch movie.

The most difficult composition on the bill was a tongue-in-cheek number called Chinese Take-Out, a bustling, dissonant instrumental wherein Min swooped and dove, using a slide, when she wasn’t frenetically wailing on the strings, evoking the cacophony of a takeout joint at lunchtime. In the middle of the piece, a strikingly pretty, quietly contemplative bridge suddenly appeared, perhaps where the exhausted kitchen crew finally gets to relax with some tea. But then the dinner crowd descends and everything starts up again. Uh oh, heads up, here comes another huge, steaming pot, watch your backs!

She explained how her song Red Haired Boy Dancing With Golden Snake was a medley, a traditional American folksong followed by its Chinese counterpart. “All Americans know Red Haired Boy, right?” she asked quizzically, perhaps surprised at the dead silence from the audience. Nobody said a word: this wasn’t Nashville, after all. The arrangement of the first was surprisingly close to the original, and the segue into the second part was seamless.

The best songs on the program were originals. “This song was inspired by a poem from the Tang dynasty. It’s called Poem from the Tang Dynasty,” she told the crowd, and followed with a stately, thoughtful, understatedly precise number. Nanjing Monk was a stark and smashingly successful attempt to blend Thelonious Monk (at his most accessible and melodic) into traditional Chinese folk. The trio closed on a high note with Fascinating New Year, ostensibly an attempt to bring some Gershwin to the mainland. Min began it with a couple of vocal whoops, using the song to air out her voice and show off her spectacular range. Not only did she hit the high notes, she proved that she knows her blues, growling and bending notes with a dexterity that would do Eartha Kitt proud.

Perhaps not surprisingly, even though Min is a star in world music circles, the church was only about half-full. Sadly, there is a city bus stop just a few feet from the church entrance, and the screech of the alarm that sounds as the bus doors open, earsplitting outside the doors, was still painfully audible above the music on more than one occasion. The edifice dates from a more civilized time, when insulation from such sonic assaults wasn’t necessary: it’s likely that the downtown lunch crowd has become aware of this and stays away. Until there are no more alarms going off during concerts here – fat chance of that, considering that this has been a problem since 1997 – this beautiful, historic landmark, with its excellent sonics inside, cannot really serve as a viable place for music. Or anything else, during the day at least.

Min Xiao-Fen’s next show is a solo gig at the Queens Museum of Art on February 17 at 2 PM in celebration of the Chinese New Year (Year of the Rat, which is what it is every year in New York), on a bill with Ishigure Masayo on Japanese koto and Yoon Jeong Heo on Korean geomungo.

February 7, 2008 Posted by | concert, experimental music, Live Events, Music, music, concert, New York City, Reviews, world music | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment