Lucid Culture

JAZZ, CLASSICAL MUSIC AND THE ARTS IN NEW YORK CITY

The Olavi Trio: Fun with Headphones On

The Olavi Trio’s latest album, Triologia, is best enjoyed lying down, with headphones on (earbuds will do, but headphones are better). Yup, one of those. It’s not very rhythmic, nor is it very melodic either, but the fun the band is having translates viscerally to the listener. It makes you wonder what kind of stuff they grow in the greenhouses up in Finland where this comes from – although that’s not to imply that the musicians were under the influence when they made this album. For jazz this woozy, it’s very purposeful – which is what you might expect from a big band trombonist (Jari Olavi Hongisto), a symphony orchestra bassist (Teppo Olavi Hauta-aho) and the drummer for the Tomasz Stanko quartet (Niilo Olavi Houhivuori). More obviously, what these musicians have in common is a warm repartee and love for collective improvisation, on the thoughtful, quiet side. Juhani Aaltonen and Kalle Kalima join them on tenor sax and guitar, respectively, on a couple of tracks as well.

What this album’s first eleven tracks have to offer (you are now reading the longest sentence ever in the history of jazz writing) includes swoops over an approximation of a groove; playful baby elephants chasing each other over a muffled, cleverly disguised boogie beat; a tone poem contrasting plinks, creaks and dark washes of sound; muted contentment against a casual rubato stroll; a lively exchange of flourishes (specifically, a dynamite cover of Anthony Braxton’s No. 69B); a comedic jazz-in-the-forest setting; simple and vivid variations on a moody modal riff; a brief, dangling conversation; two distinct strata very much alive in a primordial soup; waves punctuated by drums, with comic relief from the trombone; and an unexpectedly creepy music box interlude.

With the album’s twelfth track, they take it into more familiar free jazz territory, with a distinct melody and variations. That tune, Old Papa’s Blues was brought to the session by its composer, trumpeter Verneri Pohjola, a mournful, distinctly Nordic progression bookending a very lively midsection: this old guy’s not ready to go yet. The album ends with an improvisation that evokes strolling insects (throughout the album, toy instruments are employed to enhance the amusement/strangeness factor), and then Taysikuu, by Toivo Karki and Reino Helismaa, an apprehensive, out-of-focus tango with bowed bass that coalesces with disarming matter-of-factness. For those who believe that the idea of waves punctuated by drums is hopelessly unlistenable, this album is not for you. But for those who would enjoy that, this album will take you on a journey to a better place and make you smile along the way. It’s out now on the adventurous Finnish Tum Records label.

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November 17, 2011 Posted by | jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Nordic Connect Choose Their Spots Memorably

Although all the members of jazz group Nordic Connect claim Viking ancestry, there are no galloping rhythms, twin guitar solos or for that matter much of anything on their new album Spirals that’s ordinarily associated with a raised forefinger and pinky. If they’ve come to conquer, this is a stealth attack. Ingrid Jensen on trumpet, her sister Christine on saxophones, Maggi Olin on acoustic and electric piano, Mattias Welin on bass and Jon Wikan on drums combine for a thoughtful, tuneful, counterintuitive collection of songs without words. Instead of going for an easy crescendo, they tend to pull back, let the mood build and then gracefully expand on it. This one makes a good segue with Noah Preminger’s  new After the Rain, recently reviewed here, although its ancestors are twenty years younger. Most of the tracks here are by Olin, although each of her bandmates also contributes.

66 Mike, by Wikan follows in the melodic vein of the other tracks, but more brightly, serving as the launching pad for the high point of the album, Ingrid’s grittily joyous solo, the most uninhibitedly intense moment here. Castle Mountain, by Christine, pairs warmly sostenuto horns against an understatedly funky rhythm section; she contributes an airily evocative soprano sax solo followed shortly by a wryly shapeshifting one by Wikan. Another Christine composition, Yew, works an allusive beauty: it’s a love song without cliches, her sister thoughtfully expansive against an equally allusive rhythm section, in sync as much with regard to the silences between their accents as the beats themselves. Ingrid’s composition Earth Sighs is a tectonically shifting tone poem with the freest feel of any of the songs here, building with a casual, tersely conversational ambience (Nordic people are not given to exaggerated displays of emotion) to the point where all of a sudden a gently resolute ballad emerges out of the discussion. It’s as if they were raising a barn: lots of seemingly unrelated activity, then the corners come up and the architecture is in place.

Olin’s songs are a clinic in implied melody and understatement and that carries over to how she plays: she lets the melodies in rather than hammering them out. On the opening track, Travel Fever, she develops a spacious contrast with her ringing, terse Rhodes accents against Wikan’s neat sidestep shuffle, Ingrid soaring in the distance, Christine in buoyantly and then handing off the melody as happens so frequently on this album. Song for Inga begins moody and brightens quickly with a deft series of spirals from Ingrid. M-Oving, the first of Olin’s two ballads here, pairs warmly spare piano with soulful muted trumpet, and a tersely rippling piano solo from which Ingrid emerges with some amusingly oscillating electronic effects. Ballad North works a somewhat majestic, emphatic hook methodically to the point where a swaying 6/8 blues underpinning slowly emerges while Christine swirls triumphantly and Ingrid buttresses her. The album closes with the high-spirited, tongue-in-cheek shuffle Brejk a Leg, whose most amusing moment out of several is a laugh-out-loud surfy drum solo (hmmm…is anybody in this band a Misha Mengelberg fan?). There’s a lot going on here: as much as the album makes for great atmosphere, it’s considerably more rewarding on headphones.

January 25, 2011 Posted by | jazz, Music, music, concert, review, Reviews | , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment