The Free Jazz Collective

An interview with Myra Melford

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sun, 28 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

Photo by Gil Corre

The US pianist and composer is busier than ever. New albums, a freshly launched Bandcamp label, teaching in Berkeley, writing for large ensembles in Europe, new bands to tour and record with : Myra Melford is in control and on a roll. During a stopover between Paris and Italy, The Evanston-born artist talked to David Cristol on a sunny June morning in the South of France.

– Can we start with your new piano duo release with Satoko Fujii, かたらひ (Katarahi)on RogueArt ? You previously collaborated on Under the Water [Libra Records, 2009] . How did the connection come about and how do you go about playing together ?

Myra Melford [MM] – Satoko and I met in 1994. I was playing a solo concert at a little club in Cambridge, Massachusetts, called Club Passim. After the concert, I discovered that Paul Bley was there, and he had brought Satoko with him. She was a student or ex-student of his. So it was Paul Bley who introduced us. But she was in Boston and I was in New York, so we didn't see each other much, but stayed aware of what the other was doing. After I moved to Berkeley in 2004, she came to the Bay Area and we arranged to do a two-piano concert at the Maybeck House in Berkeley. That was our first meeting at the piano. That happened around 2007 and the record came out a couple years later. It was completely improvised. We didn't talk about anything, just played. And learned a lot from that experience. Over the years, I played some concerts with her in Japan, we played in San Francisco in 2015, and started getting concert invitations in Europe. We thought, instead of playing completely free, let's each bring compositions that allow for a lot of improvisation, but where we have some common focus and we can plan a little bit so that there's variety in what we're doing, so that it’s not so dense all the time. By having a roadmap or idea about what an improvisation might be about, we could create more space and feature one or the other, understand a little bit more how to go about it. We played in Europe maybe once every couple of years. And then got this opportunity to play at the Leibnitz Jazz Festival. That was supposed to happen during the pandemic, but it got postponed and only actually happened in the fall of 2024.

– And that’s the new recording?

MM -Yes. It was recorded by Österreichischer Rundfunk, the Austrian radio. They did a really great job, and it was in the back of our minds that we would consider it for a live record. But it wasn't until we heard the recording and were happy with its quality and with our playing that we decided we wanted to release it. Our playing is complementary and compatible. We each have a different way of playing, and a different way of composing. But when we get together, I think on this new record especially, sometimes you can't tell who's playing, even though we're on different channels. We also switch pianos in the middle of the concert, which makes it even more confusing. I like the idea that we're creating one sound together rather than being these two separate pianists who must be identifiable.

– There aren't many live recordings in your discography.

MM –I like live recordings, but haven’t released many. An early one was Alive in the House of Saints [Hat ART, 1993] . And then, 12 from 25 with the Blu-ray documentary [Firehouse 12, 2018] , from my 2015 retrospective at The Stone. It's nice when you get a good recording and you don't feel like you have to edit it too much. For the duo we only had to take out a few coughs, nothing major.

Myra Melford Trio at The Stone, NYC 2015 - credit Gil Corre

DC – Did you have in mind references to previous duos on the instrument ?

MM –I can only speak for myself : it was kind of completely new. I was familiar with the recording of Cecil Taylor and Mary Lou Williams and also with Marian McPartland's show and all the piano duos that happened there. But really it was something new to discover, and not something I had thought about for a long time.

– Do you often record your concerts ? Are there live recordings in your archive that you might release at some point ?

MM –I used to record a lot of my gigs on my phone or some small device like that, but I don't do that anymore. The idea was mainly to be able to listen to how some new music I’d written was working. Most of the concerts that I play now are recorded, if not by someone I know in the audience, then by a professional engineer. If it's being recorded, I always ask for a copy. There are several things that might potentially come out. I'm just starting a Bandcamp label. First I'm releasing my back catalog for which the rights have come back to me and which are no longer available or which the record labels are no longer selling. They've let them go out of print in some cases. The idea is that eventually I'll start to release some live concerts.

– How about the third Fire and Water Quintet [with Ingrid Laubrock, Mary Halvorson, Tomeka Reid and Lesley Mok] album that will come out on RogueArt ? Will it be a suite like the previous ones, to be listened to in one sitting ?

MM –This one is different. It's a set of pieces that in my opinion all fit together, but I didn't have an order to start with, as I did with the previous records. I wrote it as individual pieces. I like the order that we chose as a sequence, but it's not necessary to listen to the full thing at once.

– How did your writing for this group evolve over the years?

MM –It mostly evolved from the first record to the second record. For the second record, I was deliberately writing for the people in the band, thinking about how I wanted to feature each of them. On the third record, it's like I had absorbed or internalized a lot of their playing and approach. While I was writing the music, I was again thinking about who I would like to feature and how, but it was more open-ended than on Hear the Light Singing where each piece was going to feature a different person. This time it was more about breaking things down into duos and trios. I have been continuing to use some of my earlier approaches and strategies but also trying to develop some new concepts in terms of counterpoint and working with different cells of ideas.

Fire and Water Quintet (Jazz em agosto, 2023). Photo Vera Marmelo

– You have a new trio with two members of the quintet. Did the trio idea arose from composing for the quintet?

MM –Not exactly, although the writing is similar and the trio plays some of the same music. I wrote some music for the trio that I ended up expanding for the quintet, and this is the first recording of it. In other cases, I imagined some departures from how I work with the quintet. Part of it was purely practical. It's pretty hard to tour with a quintet all the time. It's expensive, people are busy. I wanted to have a smaller unit that could be a continuation of the ideas that I've been exploring with Fire and Water. So, inviting Ingrid Laubrock and Lesley Mok made great sense. We've done several concerts together and are starting to work on some music for a recording. The band is called SOX 2. It's a a biomedical term that comes from generative gene therapy. It's something about how genes can regenerate. The person who wrote the liner notes for the quintet record explains it very clearly.

– Your all-female quintet is not only women, it's women from different origins, backgrounds, generations. Was that in your mind when forming the band?

MM –That's right. But that’s in the back of my mind. In the forefront of my mind are musical personalities. How does someone play? What's their sound? How do they approach improvisation? Can I imagine them performing my music? That is always the first concern. The second thing is my liking to have, as was already the case with Snowy Egret, different generations and backgrounds involved in the band. The quintet is a continuation of that idea. It's important for audiences to not only see a band of fantastic women players, but also that we are able to get together and make something together, even though we come from different backgrounds.

– How did you hear about each of them? Did you see them live at festivals or listen to their albums?

MM –Both. I had played with Mary and with Tomeka already, mostly through working with Nicole Mitchell. Ingrid came to see me very early after I moved to California. She was interested in some of the things I learned from Henry Threadgill and which I in turn shared with her. I followed what all of them were doing. Originally it was Susie Ibarra in the quintet. She's on the first album. Mary was playing in Tomeka's quartet. Mary and Ingrid had played with Kris Davis, and I was aware of what everybody was doing. These were all people I'd like to play with, and wondering what would happen if we all got together and played ? It went very well, and that's when I decided to turn it into a band. Our very first gig was part of my second Stone residency in 2019. In addition to doing several nights of current bands that I was either part of or leading, I decided to do one night of free improvisation. And I asked this group of people to do it with me. At the time I was starting to work on some new compositions. For the evening I ended up creating a roadmap of different duos and trios with some notated material, text scores, this kind of thing. It was quite open, but there was a little bit of the material that I then incorporated on For the Love of Fire and Water . After that show, I fleshed out the compositions and turned them into a suite that we could record.

– Like you, they're fluent in both composition and improvisation, active in both fields.

MM –For me it's more about blurring those fields, blurring the boundaries. But yes. Let me tell you about Lesley. I had written a second set of music that became the Hear the Light Singing recording. And we did a tour of that. We were going to do some more gigs and a recording, but unfortunately, Susie Ibarra wasn't available to do the tour with us. I started to look for a drummer that could learn the music with us and make the recording. I asked a couple of friends who they’d recommend and Lesley’s name came up. I called the other members and they were super into it. We got together and they played great right from the start. It's wonderful having them in the band, totally great.

– When you start a group, do you think, let’s do this one thing and then we'll see what happens? You sometimes have two recordings with a group, but three, like with Fire and Water, is pretty rare.

MM –That's right. Usually two records is about as far as I go with a band. And that's spread out over a few years. It comes both out of necessity or practicalities and because I wish to renew the writing and playing. I mean, if offered the opportunity to do a new tour, I want to have some new music ready and bring it out there. But in that case it's also that this band is really special and there seems to be room for expansion, like I could maybe develop music that would take us into some new territory. That’s what I am hoping to do. We're playing in Ottawa next month and going to do a tour in Europe in October, so maybe it’ll continue.

– When did you start using guitar?

MM –I have been playing with guitar for quite a long time if you go back to be the band Be Bread with Brandon Ross. That was more or less a quartet that had either Cuong Vu on trumpet and electronics or Brandon Ross on guitar, banjo and electric guitar. I like the combination of piano and guitar. In some ways, the inspiration for that came from doing a project of Henry Threadgill's, where I performed with guitar quartets, of which Brandon was part of. We did a couple pieces. One was « Over the River Club » from Song Out of My Trees [Black Saint, 1994] and the other was « Noisy Flowers » from Makin’ a Move [Columbia, 1995]. I like that sound. And it's about particular players. I worked with Brandon for quite a while, and when I put Snowy Egret together, I invited Liberty Ellman on guitar. Both of them had played with Threadgill. Mary has this big personality on guitar, effects and a very different sound to Liberty. Now they play great together in Ches Smith’s Clone Row. I wanted to keep working with guitar and I wanted to work with Mary. She has a very distinctive sound. I had done a project called Happy Whistlings around 2008, which was with Mary, Taylor Ho Bynum, Matana Roberts, Stomu Takeishi. It was music for the [writer, journalist] Eduardo Galeano project, Language of Dreams , that was eventually recorded by Snowy Egret. Mary played in one of the early iterations of it, and I loved playing with her. I knew I wanted to get back to having her play my music at some point. So this was the perfect opportunity. All the people I work with have their own creative expression which is original and strong, yet they always serve the compositions.

– You always pick the best bass players – Mark Dresser, Michael Formanek, Nick Dunston, Joëlle Léandre…

MM –Gosh, I'm so lucky to play with so many great bass players. Everybody's got a particular feel for time and comping and soloing and how they express rhythm. I'm looking for people who are complimentary to how I like to play the piano and the kind of music I'm writing. I'm fortunate that all these great bass players have been willing to play with me.

– You just toured again with the Tiger Trio [with Joëlle Léandre and Nicole Mitchell] . How did that go?

MM –It was great, we always have a good time when we get together. We hadn't played in about three years. We have two albums out. Or three if you include the one that's a live recording in Joëlle's Lifetime Rebel box set. We don't get to play often enough, but whenever we do, it's really fun. We're all coming from very different places in a way, but when we get together, something special happens. It is all improvised, we don't bring any compositions.

– The most recurring format in your discography is the trio. Is it your favorite?

MM –Well, I would say the quintet is my favorite. It's just a little harder to work with a quintet, to tour, organize schedules, have enough money to pay everybody. So I would say those are my two favorite formats, although I like duos, quartets and solo as well. With a trio, you have everything you need. You've got three different voices, so that not everybody has to play all the time, or you can change the roles fluidly from background to foreground, accompanying or being featured. And I like to do it with all kinds of instrumentations, from Equal Interest with violin and woodwinds [Leroy Jenkins and Joseph Jarman] to this new SOX 2 trio with Lesley and Ingrid, and the classic piano, bass, and drums association, like Splash, Trio M or my early trio. They're all fun and different, but it's easier to work with three people, you don't have a lot of parts to organize. It's less complex in some ways, but it doesn't have to be because everybody is capable of playing either very simply or playing a lot – like with Splash.

– Can you tell us about that trio [with Michael Formanek on bass & Ches Smith on drums and vibraphone] ? You put out a recording last year on Intakt, and took it on tour.

MM –As I was saying, composing for a trio, I have less parts available, right? You can only have three things going on at once. What's new for me about this trio is that Ches also plays vibes, so I have a second melodic instrument that can either play with the bass or with the piano while somebody else takes a different role. I love the combination of piano and vibes together. With musical personalities that bring something unique to my music, if I record something with Splash and then record the same tune with the quintet, it is performed completely differently. I can arrange some of the same material for quintet or trio. I wrote some interludes for Splash, and then adapted those to the quintet and they sound completely different. « Chalk », for instance, is a piece that can be played by various instrumentations and personalities, it's coming out different every time yet retains the essence of the composition. I do « Chalk » with Splash, with the quintet and also with Satoko.

– You don't have many solo recordings. Your solo piano set at the 2024 Novara Jazz festival was stunning.

MM –Just one, Life Carries Me This Way [Firehouse 12, 2013, reissued as a double LP in 2017] . Which is a studio recording. And I agree the live concert in Italy was strong. I just played another solo in Mantua, that also went very well. They recorded it. Maybe that would be something to consider for release on my label.

– You have been inspired by the works of painter Cy Twombly for some time.

MM –In the mid-90s, I wrote « Drawing in the Dark » for my band Same River Twice. That composition was inspired by Twombly. I had just gone to see a retrospective of Twombly's work at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. That's what started the whole thing. I wasn’t aware of his art before, and remember feeling a strong affinity with the energy and gesture and the way his work looked in this gallery when I walked into it. In the back of my mind, I thought, that looks like how I play the piano. So that's what I've been doing for the last five years. It's a project that's being supported by the University of California, and was originally meant to be an evening-long performance comprised of several ensembles, Snowy Egret, Fire and Water and maybe Tiger Trio or MZM [Melford’s trio with Zeena Parkins and Miya Masaoka] , small group things that would culminate in one big improvised orchestra piece. Because of COVID, I wasn't able to make that happen. So I started thinking of it as installments, starting with Fire and Water’s For the love of Fire and Water , and then Hear the Light Singing, and then Splash, and then the upcoming Quintet record, titled Sure Grand Out, and finally an installation in which I will perform a solo piece. The title was inspired by a book, of, not exactly poetry – or maybe it is poetry. Someone had deconstructed a diary from a long time ago that she had found in the Midwest of the United States. Diary entries had be written every day, but the woman who then deconstructed it only took a few words out of it. One line was « a good rain, flowers come fast, sure grand out ». Those are titles I thought kind of worked within my relationship with Twombly's work. I am going back to Italy to work on the final installment of the Twombly project. I'm collaborating with two artists from Chicago, photographer and visual artist and videographer Sandra Binion, and Lou Malozzi, an experimental sound artist. We're creating an installation of our reflections and responses to Twombly's work. This will be the final chapter, and then, I think it's time to move on to something new.

– You have a taste for enigmatic song and album titles. How do you choose them?

MM –I usually find titles after the pieces of music are composed. I keep a list of possible titles around subjects or areas that I'm interested in, and had a number of titles related to Twombly, from writings I've read about him and his work. And I certainly get ideas from poetry and literature. And then some of the new music that I've written in the last year was inspired by the idea of regenerative gene therapy, and regeneration in general, like how the heck are we going to start to really address the climate issues. I talk with my students a lot. I teach at the university of California where the students are studying every subject you can imagine. Many great musicians who play in my ensembles or study with me are pre-med or going to become engineers or astrophysicists. I was talking with one of my pre-med students about this idea of regenerative gene therapy and she was the one who suggested where to look and what to read.

– Teaching, playing, composing, touring, traveling – what is the thing you enjoy the most ?

MM –I'm going to say that without making music, none of the rest makes sense. Performing and composing are central to everything. What's been great for me about being a professor at UC Berkeley is that my students and colleagues are very inspiring and it's been a really good synergistic experience that informs my music. I go out and perform my music in the world and have something that I feel good about sharing with my students when I come back. So, for the most part, it works as a whole. It's a bit tiring sometimes to try to juggle all these things. But on the other hand, if I didn't go out and perform new music, I don't think I'd have the inspiration to teach. So I have to do it all.

– What about the [Canadian clarinet player] François Houle Quintet you’re a member of, and uses graphic scores or at least color indications ?

MM –We use both. It started as a trio with me, Joëlle and François. We played at Berlin’s Pierre Boulez Saal a few years ago, we had scores and some notated material. And then the group expanded to include Gordon Grdina and Gerry Hemingway and it became more like text scores where François would give us indications, colors to look at and ideas. That's what we did in Novara. Last spring we did a few gigs in Canada. And we're going to perform in Guelph in September. François would like to record it. He did one recording that I couldn't make, with Alexander Hawkins and Joëlle. The next thing is to record in the configuration that we'll be playing in Guelph.

– If you had an unlimited budget to work on some specific project, what would you like to achieve that you haven't already?

MM –That's a good question. I guess I just want to be able to keep doing what I'm doing. I have some concerts coming up in the fall with Splash. Now that Michael Formanek lives in Lisbon, I have to bring him to the US twice, maybe three times. The only reason I would like not to worry about money is so I can keep doing what I'm doing. And, as the next idea comes in, have funding for it, as it’s the hardest thing to manage. I've been fortunate to get some very nice funding over the years, but it doesn't last forever and I'm again in the situation where there are so many things I want to do and I just don't know where the money's going to come from yet.

– You got some awards and grants in recent years.

MM –One was from the Doris Duke Foundation. I got that and the Albert Award and the Guggenheim. Those prizes have enabled me to do everything I've done the last few years.

Now that I'm getting to the culmination of the Cy Twombly project, I'm starting to think about writing for larger ensembles. I've got two commissions for next year. One is for the Kitchen Orchestra in Stavanger in Norway, and the other is for an ensemble called Studio Dan in Vienna. Ingrid has been writing for them. I'm writing a piece that I can do variations of with each of those bands next May and June. And I'm co-composing a piece for improvising pianist and orchestra with a colleague from UC Berkeley named Carmine Cella, which we will premiere next year as well. So I've got lots to do. I'm kind of allowing these things to happen, as seeds, to see what might come next.

Arles, 2019. Photo by Gil Corre

– Do you enjoy writing for larger ensembles?

MM –I do. I haven't done a lot of it, so I'm looking forward to it and figuring out how I want to do it, rather than following someone else's model necessarily.

DC – You worked with Wynton Marsalis and a big band.

MM –Yes, that was a traditional big band. They call it the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra. We played one of my compositions. That was fun, I have to say. I didn't know what to expect when I went into it, because I come from another, freer school, so to speak. But I felt welcome. I loved all the guys and Ted Nash did a great arrangement of my piece, which I performed with them.

– Do you listen to a lot of music?

MM –Mostly trying to listen to the new stuff that's coming out, from people I play with. And I don't do a very good job of keeping up with it. Soon as I see something new coming from someone I know, I go check it out. And if it's something that really inspires me, I'll go back and listen to it a lot. Other times I might not get back to it. I'm not going back to older music much these days.

– How about listening to your own recordings?

MM –I don't like to do that, but if I have to, for a project or something, I will. But I can’t say I enjoy it. It's partly because I hear things that I know what I was going for and didn't quite achieve. But you know, I feel good about the music I've done overall.

– You often are your own producer. How does the relationship with the record labels happen?

MM –It's different with each label. I’ve learned that it's important to retain control over my own work, and as much as possible own the rights to it. I've been fortunate that there have been labels that have wanted to put out my music, and we've been able to talk about which project or projects might make the most sense. I think it's good to not be only with one label these days. It's a difficult time for labels and a difficult time for musicians. And it's nice to be able to share your music to different audiences and on different platforms. Just having opportunities to get my music out there is the most important thing.

– There was a point when you didn't release a lot of records. Now it might seem as you have accelerated a bit.

MM –It’s true. I have more projects now. Some of those are collectives, like Trio M or Lux Quartet. I have the Quintet and two different trios that are part of the same constellation, so to speak. And I don't know if it's getting older and feeling like, I want to make sure I accomplish these things and get them out in the world, or just that there are more opportunities to release things since I’m doing more things.

– You’ve played with drummer Allison Miller for a number of years, and were a member of her band Boom Tic Boom.

MM –I’m not in that anymore. We did some concerts with the original band last fall, but I think Allison's moved on with Boom Tic Boom. Instead, we're co-leading the Lux Quartet.Allison made a number of really nice records that I got to play on. I like the first one called Live in Willisau [Foxhaven Records, 2012], and the most recent one, Glitter Wolf [Royal Potato Family, 2019] on which I also play harmonium. She has a new band that she's still calling Boom Tic Boom but it’s a completely different line-up.

– What else have you been involved in recently?

MM –I've been playing with some musicians in the Bay Area. I was invited to collaborate on a project, as a performer, called Insect Life, which is Ben Goldberg on clarinets, Ben Davis on cello, Raffi Garabedian on tenor and Danny Lubin-Laden on trombone. They invited Hamir Atwal and me to play with them. There should be a recording of that coming out next year, maybe on Ben's label [BAG Production Records]. And I've been playing in a trio with Ben Goldberg and one of my students, Matt Muntz, a fantastic bass player. Matt is getting his PhD in composition at UC Berkeley and he, Ben and I have a trio that we're going to record next fall. Ben Goldberg, cellist Ben Davis and I have a new trio project that we're going to try and record as well. I love playing with Ben [a collaboration that harks back to duo performances in the US and Europe from 2012 onward, the album Dialogue and Myra being part of Goldberg’s Orphic Machine project in 2015].

Myra Melford & Ben Goldberg in 2013. Photo by Jean-François Laberine

Addendum...

- Which are your three favorites among your own albums, the most artistically successful in your opinion?

MM - This is a tough one. I'll say :

Snowy Egret - The Other Side of Air (Firehouse 12, 2018)

Fire and Water Quintet - Hear the Light Singing (Rogueart, 2023)

Myra Melford Splash (Intakt, 2025)

- Could you recommend three albums from other artists that you currently enjoy?

MM -

Ches Smith - Clone Row (Otherly Love, 2025)

John Carter - Fields (Gramavision, 1988)

Anna Webber and Matt Mitchell - Capacious Aeration (Tzadik, 2023)

I haven't checked out Mary's new album with Ambrose Akinmusire yet - looking forward to that!

Current and upcoming releases:

Myra Melford « Splash » (Intakt, 2025)
Myra Melford/Satoko Fujii « かたらひ (Katarahi) » (RogueArt, 2026)
Ben Goldberg/Myra Melford/Danny Lubin-Laden « Trouble Trouble » (BAG, August 2026)
Fire and Water Quintet « Sure Grand Out » (RogueArt, September 2026
Find out more here: https://myramelford.bandcamp.com/
Myra Melford on RogueArt: https://roguart.com/artist/myra-melford/160
Revisit an interview with Myra Melford on the Free Jazz Blog in 2022.

Teiku - Klang (Ginko Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sat, 27 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

Teiku comprises pianist Josh Harlow, percussionist Jonathan Barahal Taylor, double bassist Jaribu Shahid, and, newly adopted into the ensemble, bass clarinettist Jason Stein. Their sophomore release on Gingko Records is Klang, a meditation on focus and intention. It follows ‘Teiku’ (577 records, 2024) – a release that built on the foundations of the music of their Jewish-Ukrainian ancestors that they grew up with.

Teiku was founded by Chicago pianist Harlow and percussionist Barahal to interpret their respective families’ unique Passover melodies as conduits for spontaneous musical expression. On Klang, Teiku expands on the meditative themes of ‘Teiku,’( 577 records 2024), which was a meditation on their shared history and a tribute to the aurally transmitted ancestral melodies that they grew up singing. Klang expands on these themes and takes its source from historical music, but also rare manuscripts, voice recordings, and chants. All the elements imbued in this album stem from influences on the lives of the musicians, so the music feels personal and intimate, yet not to share it would seem a selfish act because the music is exceptional.

Five of the six tracks represent the same Passover song/liturgical text, Ki Le Naeh (For Him It Is Fitting), but each, due to regional and family variations, is a distinct, unique melody. Far from the standardised versions prevalent today, the ancient melodies are transfigured, deconstructed, and reframed, but their essence, of respect, collective power, and remembrance, remains.

Stein comments, "Improvisational music has always been squarely in the tradition of expressing the essential right of all people to be free. It’s a great pleasure and opportunity to be a part of Teiku’s musical expression and alignment with this sense of freedom from oppression as it applies to the present moment in the world. It was a great pleasure to work with Josh, Jon, and Jaribu. I love the collective and open feeling everyone brings to the music and to the process of interpreting this traditional and deeply spiritual music."

Understanding the recording requires attentive listening if you are to comprehend how vocal sounds, musical exploration, references to free expression, and detail come together to create a recording that is both communicative and profound. Every time the oral traditions are imagined and re-imagined, subtle changes happen, and with Klang Teiku adds their own voice to this lineage. You can hear strong references to Jewish traditional music, with the associated rhythms, chordal changes, and beautiful harmonics that lend themselves to the musical interpretation of emotive, lyrical music. Yet, although the interpretation is of historical music, Teiku treats it as living, evolving material, adapted to modern trends of exploration, divergence, and freedom of playing. The listener needs to know nothing of the influences that helped create it, because the music is complete in itself, while the tracks feel distinct, yet connected.

Barahal’s drumming adds beautiful touches to the patterns and dance-like themes of some of the tracks. There is a step-like motion to his rhythms that can’t be ignored. His vibraphone playing creates intimate moments through delicate phrasing and harmonic subtlety. Harlow builds a harmonic foundation and rich textural atmosphere on both piano and electronics, and his use of silence is deliberate, creating space for other instruments and configurations to be heard. Stein knows when to support or solo, and his innate sense of dynamics means there is movement to the music, carried in some places by his interpretation and how he builds and relaxes the intensity. Jaribu Shahid’s bass lends its voice to poignant moments and also offers structural support in many areas, and the same can be said of Harlow’s input. The sense of musicians playing in harmony is strong in Teiku, and a sense of reverence in this music that is inexplicable. It is as if each track is taken and delivered with sincerity and respect, while at the same time allowing the individuality of the players to be heard and felt. While Teiku is a quartet, the unannounced, yet constantly present fifth member is the historical music that is an essential collaborator with a modern jazz style of playing.

Barahal and Harlow comment, “The process of reframing our ancestral melodies to make this music reminds us to keep searching and imagining. As Jews, we embrace our spiritual and cultural heritage of care and community, of rituals and questions. We reject all forms of violence that have become associated with that heritage by genocidal nationalists. To that end, we dedicate this set of music to the Palestinian people and all suffering people. Thank you to our families, our mentors, and our friends, who continue to teach us the way forward in a fractured world.”

The first track, ‘Ki Le Noeh (Krumholz melody),’ is deeply traditional, with modern inputs. Krumholz means twisted, contorted, and the melody is repeated, varied, and tested in different ways throughout the track. Stein's bass clarinet lends expressive tones and melodies, while the insistent drums and the full-voiced bass line add depth and cohesion. The piano, when it emerges from the background, is gloriously uplifting, particularly when it is duelling with the bass clarinet. What is great about the track is how the traditional melodic patterns are underpinned by explorative free styling from all four members of Teiku.

‘Ki Lo Laeh (Fendrick Melody)’ is other-worldly and reverent, with gentle vocal recordings from Sue Fendrick; there are some wonderfully warped tones that add to the ethereal nature of the music. It feels oddly like a prayer, in its delivery and comparatively tentative nature, particularly the final phrases.

In ‘Khasul Seydur Peysakh (Chasman Melody)’ there are melodic lines from Stein’s bass clarinet, toned with supportive bass and percussion, and a piano that underpins everything, seemingly in a melodic thought of its own for much of the time, but one that reflects the rest of the ensemble. Stein excels in his free, explorative expression, while the track swells and ebbs, creating waves of change. Shahid’s solo evolves into an expressive solo punctuated by percussive elements and eventually accompanied by the ensemble, with Stein's melody leading into a brief dance rhythm and an ensemble finish.

‘Ki Le Noeh (Shlita Melody)’ is at the beating heart of this album, and as the translated honorific of the title might suggest, is an homage to many rhythms of Jewish music, but afforded the Teiku treatment and given a modern free jazz twist. The bass ukulele adds sonorous undertones, while Stein’s bass clarinet positively dances its way across patterns, changes, and rhythmic explorations. The final minute is explosive and somehow cathartic in its energy expenditure.

On ‘Ki Le Noeh (Gerster Melody)’ there is the gentle start of the vibraphone solo, into which the ensemble drops, the clarinet rendering an equally gentle line. The track has essences of modern jazz along with the traditional music, and the bass solo is beautiful. The closing track, ‘Odir Bimlikhe (Lunski Melody) is a free-played improvisation paired with elements of traditional-sounding melody lines. It is standout, with the ensemble creating a dynamic, energetic track filled with the emotional input of all that has gone before.

The album is outstanding in many areas. Teiku is apt as a name for this ensemble of musicians because it has several meanings. In Japanese, it means to keep doing or continue, while in Aramaic, it is a derivation of the word meaning ‘the question stands,’ and the ensemble feels as if they have addressed several questions, explored some of the answers, but in the end, the question remains, and it is this. How do we relate historic, traditional music to modern styles of playing and freely improvised expression? Teiku tried to find at least part of the answer.

Klang by Teiku

Lance Austin Olsen and Jamie Drouin – a field far beyond form and emptiness (Infrequency, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Fri, 26 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Nick Ostrum

A field far beyond form and emptinessis a return to form. It is Lance Austin Olsen and Jamie Drouin’s first musical collaboration in six years, following a period marked mostly visual arts projects, some joint work on comic books, and an extended bout with Covid. And as with previous recordings, it features Drouin and Olsen on a range of instruments acoustic - dulcimer, cello, piano, children’s and trainer guitars, objects – and not – radio, laptop, amplifiers. Likewise, as with their previous collaboration, this one focuses on unconventional techniques coupled with a lot of frictive and crumbly percussions and Drouin’s electronic manipulations.

The result is a noirish soundtrack to the equally dark and perplexing comics they released a few years ago. Sounds are ephemeral and together evoke a disjointed assemblage of incidental and environmental sounds from a radio play. Woody clicks spatter across one ear. Dramatic tinny dulcimer chords and a lone piano key pock the other. Then silence, and hums, and a quick tumble of acousmatic clatter. One can only imagine what, if anything, is lurking behind it all, the creaks of a settling house, a clumsy cat, or some more ominous disturbance gathering. Breaking the acousmatic spell, a news reporter intervenes at 21:, announcing “The shortages have been fueled by US sanctions.” An extended hum follows, which opens into a period of silence, then a busy minute-long stretch of rummaging.

Silent intervals fill much of the space, serving not only as markers of subtle change but also curious spaces of musical sound in the Cagean sense. They also give the listener time to process and wonder before the next brief flutter of activity. In sense, the core of a fieldmay very well be these loose agglomerations of sounds and the silence, the connective tissue holding it all together. However, one could also flip that equation, as the sound elements are imposed and intrude upon the underlying silent base, which could be the titular field that transcends shape and order but is also pregnant with possibilities. Whichever way one may consider the album – as sounds on silence or intervallic silence amidst sound - the listener is left to wonder what all this space and abstraction is about. It is something unpleasant, for sure. It also says something about the uncertainty of today, as the sanctions report, just one of two spoken insertions, hints. If anything, that contemporary ambiguity and precarity can be a menacing and lonely place, albeit with the dialectical potential for calm and beauty.

a field far beyond form and emptinessis available as a download from Bandcamp:

a field far beyond form and emptiness by jamie drouin | lance austin olsen

Caroline Kraabel / Pat Thomas / John Edwards / Steve Noble - Transgressive Coastlines (Shrike Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Thu, 25 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Richard Blute

I was happy to see saxophonist Caroline Kraabel reviewed in Stef’s recent article “female artists and solo horn performances”, as I had been spending a great deal of time listening to Transgressive Coastlines. I’ll admit I bought it because of her bandmates. The trio of Pat Thomas on piano, Steve Noble on drums and John Edwards on bass struck me as an unstoppable combo, and it was a pleasure to discover that Kraabel more than holds her own in this distinguished company.

Pat Thomas is a member of the great band [Ahmed], who put on one of the most astonishing shows I’ve ever seen at Big Ears 2025, and also appeared on The Locals Play The Music Of Anthony Braxton, the album where Braxton gets the funky treatment. Noble and Edwards have worked together on countless albums, providing the backbone for any number of the most important albums in free jazz. Check out their work with Peter Brötzmann and Jason Adasiewicz on Mental Shakes or that quartet’s live album, called simply The Quartet. It’s Brötzmann’s final show.

Caroline Kraabel is a saxophonist, conductor, composer and improviser. She’s performed with an extraordinary number of great musicians, including her bandmates here, Charlotte Hug, Maggie Nichols, Louis Moholo, Susan Alcorn, and on and on. She also “founded a large improvising group made up of all sorts of trans-masc, trans-fem, nonbinary, and women improvisers…. they have been exploring improvisation and difference in monthly labs and regular performances”. I would love to have heard her “solo saxophone improvisations while walking in London and elsewhere with her infant child/ren in their pushchair.” [Both quotes are from her website.]

The opener Dark Rainbow begins as a masterclass in how to gradually build up tension. Edwards is scraping his strings, inviting his bandmates to join him. Thomas plays just a few notes, seemingly always at the right moment. Noble and Kraabel are also lightly responding. But they build up the sound quickly and before long Kraabel is playing longer flowing lines with occasional shrieks as punctuation. I’m always impressed with Edwards in the way he switches so smoothly from bowing to plucking in response to his bandmates. The intensity of all four musicians increases sharply, they’re communicating deeply, with lots of stops and starts and changes in tempo. As in all the best free improvisation, we feel as if we’re listening in on a profound conversation. The whole album is full of subtle moments of peace and eruptions of intensity. Each of the musicians are happy to take the lead or take a step back as the collective wishes.

I really enjoy Kraabel’s playing throughout this album. While I clearly hear Evan Parker in her style, I also hear something unique in her use of the high extremes of instrument and in her use of breath sounds. She seems to be talking into her sax at several points.

This is a year-end list contender for me. I’ll be diving into Kraabel’s Bandcamp page as soon as I finish this review.

Transgressive Coastlines by Caroline Kraabel / Pat Thomas / John Edwards / Steve Noble

Some AACM on Record (Part 1)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Wed, 24 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Gary Chapin

The Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM) was one of the most fertile creative organizations … ever … (yes, I said “ever”), serving as apprenticeship for swarms of indispensable players. Anthony Braxton, Muhal Richard Abrahms, Lester Bowie, Wadada Leo Smith, and a ton others formed and emerged from the AACM. In any discussion of post-Coltrane jazz, improvisation, avant garde, experimentation, and black identity in music, you will hear of the members of the AACM. They created the standards and then exceeded them.

Sixty years later, the organization continues apace, perhaps a more conventional non-profit, but still the hotbed of iconically iconoclastic innovation that it has always been. Bandcamp recently ran a piece featuring the AACM artists featured on that site , and it was indeed great! Every disc on there was worthy of the attention, but they were almost all re-releases or resurrections of work by the masters back in the day.

We decided to look at some current releases either by AACM members or featuring them. Like the recently reviewed dance! skip! hop! by AACMer Tomeka Reid (reviewed here), these are filled with life, worthy of attention, and driven by AACM values.

Yowzers - Ben Lamar Gay (International Anthem, 2025)

Yowzers opens with an old old feeling church-ish song (reminded me of “I got a Bible I can read”), laying in some solid ground and then going into a creatively abundant set of compositions that lean into small percussion, chants and songs, electronics, and the post-bop jazz fractured rhythms that I love so much.

The main band is Ben LaMar Gay - cornet, voice, synth, bells, diddley bow, percussion, programming, manipulations; Tommaso Moretti - drums, percussion, voice; Davis - tuba, piano, bells, voice; Will Faber - guitar, ngoni, bells, voice. With a few “also featured” joining with their voices and Rob Frye on flute and bass clarinet. It’s an unusual ensemble but feels entirely organic — one section leads to the next with the inevitability of a great story.

Yowzers by Ben LaMar Gay

Emma Dayhuff, Kahil El’Zabar, Dee Alexander, Isaiah Collier - Innovations and Lineage: The Chicago Project (Division 81 Records, 2025)

Innovations and Lineage: The Chicago Project (featuring Emma Dayhuff, Kahil El’Zabar, Dee Alexander, and Isaiah Collier) plumbs similar depths but spends much more time in the dirty, mumbling groove that immediately brings to mind Kahil El’Zabar. This project builds more on traditional percussion (tambourines, gourds, thumb piano) than on Art Ensemblish “small instruments” and its reliance on a careening 6/8 feel for so much of the time is addictive. You can feel the after-rhythm when the song ends. Alexander and El’Zabar sing and vocalize their bluesy moans and shouts. Emma Duff’s bass is relentless — the MVP of the record. Isaiah Collier’s tenor is bar sax and post-Monk — I hear some Charlie Rouse.

In the end it’s meditatively rhythmic, driving and energetic. So in the pocket and joyful that you become the journey.

Innovations & Lineage - The Chicago Project by Dr. Emma Dayhuff

Paula Rae Gibson and Alex Bonney - In Another World We Will Live For Ever (33Xtreme Records/33 Jazz Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Tue, 23 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

When Paula Rae Gibson contacted me to ask if I would review her new album, she described it simply yet profoundly as ‘an ode to friendship.’ Her best friend had died the year before, and, as she explained, “the least I could do was try to articulate what she meant to me, as a way to heal and a way to stay close to her.”

Few artists possess the imagination and musical instinct required to translate grief into something tangible, but Rae Gibson does exactly that here. This album is steeped in loss, love, and longing, yet reaches far beyond. It becomes, ultimately, a path toward hope, reminding us that beauty and sorrow are often inseparable. That such beauty can result from loss must be a sign of hope and a vehicle towards acceptance and light that we all crave at times.

The album’s origins are as intimate as the music. A small Japanese publisher released a limited edition collection of photographs Rae Gibson had taken of her friend, and while collaborating with trumpet and cornet player, producer, and live electronic musician Alex Bonney on a soundtrack incorporating her friend’s voice messages, the project gradually ‘came to life,’ as Rae Gibson described the experience.

The music moves through emotional and sonic spaces that feel almost suspended between worlds. Bonney’s visionary electronics don’t just accompany Rae Gibson’s vocals; they deepen and amplify them, creating an atmosphere that feels immersive, spectral, and oddly transcendent, as if the listener is afforded fleeting glimpses into another, almost tangible dimension.

The eerie opener, ‘Alive’ is atmospheric and backed by electronic fuzziness that perfectly depicts the sense of otherworldliness that loss can blanket us in. There is a keening keyboard that carries throughout the number, and layers of electronic haze drift beneath whispered words like a prayer, and distant church bells that toll like a summons but also set an undertone of reverence. The sense of emotional dislocation is carried into ‘The Gloves That You Gave Me,’ which sums up the strange power objects acquire after loss. Everyday items become saturated with memory, carrying traces of those who once touched them. The whirring background rhythms feel like a whirlpool, the undertow dragging us towards a darker place. The organ-like background and the gentle, mesmeric vocals of Rae Gibson, punctuated by occasional birdsong, evoke a deep sense of absence. The words ‘everything feels broken’ and ‘nothing will ever be the same, only rain feels right, right now, only tears feel right, right now’ perfectly sum up loss and cut to the heart of bereavement with devastating simplicity.

‘Dreamt of You’ is a beautiful summation of how we dream of those who have gone, and how our imagination fills in the gaps, using phrases they used to say. Offering herself comfort, the singer tells of dreaming of a lost one and how they tell her they are fine – comforting and yet disturbing, as the music adds touches of menace and uncertainty to the snippets of conversation, which the intellect tells us cannot be real, but is redolent of the collective brainstorm our minds flood us with when we have lost. Tender, unsettling, and painfully human.

‘Wait For Me Wait’ is heartfelt in its sincerity. Pitched against relentless rhythmic repetitions, the vocals sing their plea but also accept that it cannot be different. The words speak of talking forever, that there is so much more to say, and a wish for just a little more time. ‘Funny Confessions’ is about sunshine, joy, and how the presence of someone can change things, and the lingering instinct to wonder what someone might say if they were still with you.

‘Lean On’ is an investigative journey into the feelings of leaning on the love for someone, sharing their fire, dancing, and celebrating who they were with the world, while ‘Very Alone,’ is the album’s emotional centrepiece, a number that will resonate with anyone who has experienced deep loss. The lyrics, ‘checking in with you, checking in with me,’ capture the strange ongoing dialogue we maintain with people we have lost, while the line ‘I’ve got to learn to do this alone’ lands with heartbreaking honesty, demonstrating the reluctant acceptance our minds understand we must come to.

This album could have turned into something of an introspective journey, but, while the essence of the album is loss, there is also music that continually reaches outward, and this carries the listener beyond the subject. There is warmth and connection. The album is uplifting, a testament to music’s ability to hold pain, transform it, and return to us a gift. The journey toward the light of how music can carry us, heal us, keep us close to those we have temporarily lost, and offer a vehicle for emotions that no other art form can do.

Columbia Icefield - A Silence Opens (Out of Your Head, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Mon, 22 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Eyal Hareuveni

A Silence Opens is the third, and unfortunately, the last album of the Columbia Icefield, the quartet that trumpeter Nate Wooley founded, and featuring pedal steel master Susan Alcorn, guitarist-vocalist Ava Mandoza, and drummer Ryan Sawyer. A Silence Opens is informed by the death of close ones and the endless grief their death entails, and began as a tribute to the trumpeter Ron Miles (who passed away in March 2022), Wooley's mentor and someone he looked up to as an older brother, credited for saving Wooley’s life and making him a better person, expanded to a memorial album for Alcorn, whose idiosyncratic sound distinguished the quartet’s sound, who passed away in January 2025, while Columbia Icefield completed the album.

Wooley writes: “Death is a lack with weight. At the moment that you realize that someone you love is irrecoverably gone, a small tear in your life opens up. As days go by, the sliver of grief grows, becoming a rift, a gap, a gulley, a canyon. At the point that you feel lost in the immensity of space where that person used to be, the expansion stops; the hole—the vast and airy part of your life that used to be occupied by that person—becomes solid. Maybe it decreases in size, but more likely, your memories grow to occupy its space”.

Wooley decided to transform the “pressure with sadness” and fill the silence and the vacuum that death brings with new sounds and new voices, creating a deeply emotional and life-affirming musical statement. The album includes three Miles’ pieces, and Alcorn’s favorite protest song - Chilean singer-songwriter Víctor Jara’s “El Derecho De Vivir En Paz” (The Right to Live in Peace, the song that closes Alcorn’s Canto album, Relative Pitch, 2023). The third, unrehearsed interpretation of this song featured a choir of Alcorn’s friends - Mary Halvorson, Ingrid Laubrock, Wendy Eisenberg, gabby fluke-mogul, Laura Ortman, Patrick Holmes, with Wooley, Mandoza, and Sawyer. “We just felt the joy—in saying thank you, we love you, and goodbye—that Susan would have taken in seeing friends and bandmates all lined up, eyes closed, following the lines of a melody she felt in her heart”, Wooley says.

A Silence Opens immediately occupies your full attention with its powerful emotional urgency, faithfully capturing the complex musical essence and personas of Miles and Alcorn. It is structured as a mournful suite or ritual that celebrates the lives and the gift of knowing Miles and Alcorn. It begins with Wooley’s vulnerable whistling solo, the melody of “El Derecho De Vivir En Paz”, followed by Miles’ ballad “Howard Beach” (from My Cruel Heart, Gramavision, 1996), with Mendoza contrasting and pushing Wooley’s touching and soulful playing into aggressive storms; then Mendoza, who almost cries as she recites “El Derecho”; Miles’ dramatic “Darken My Door” (from I Am a Man, Yellowbird, 2017); the choir who “El Derecho” in a waythat makes you want to join their singing; Wooley’s poetic centerpiece, “We Say Goodbye Twice/Wildwood Flower”, that distills the musical and emotional core of this inspiring, heartfelt album with Alcorn’s arresting playing; the quartet offering a joyful interpertation of “El Derecho””; an intense and urgent, distortion-heavy and propulsive version of Miles “You Taste” (from Woman’s Day, Gramavision, 1997); and concluding with Wooley’s solo trumpet of “El Derecho”, simultaneously singing and crying this song, and then whistles it, marking a final acceptance of the passed one, and also as a requiem for Columbia Icefield itself, until it disappears in silence.

Columbia Icefield was in many ways a kind of musical family, and it sounds like a close-knit musical organism. It was one of those few, rare bands that keep expanding its musical universe with every new album, a band that you cherish all its albums, a band that is larger than its parts. “May we always bear the weight of these losses as a gift of presence and memory,” Wooley concluded.

A Silence Opens by Columbia Icefield

The Utopia of Better Processes: An Interview with Christian Lillinger

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sun, 21 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

Photo by Nino Halm

By Ljubisa Tosic*

Anyone lucky enough to have seen Christian Lillinger's project Open Form for Society live in 2019 at Donaueschingen or at the Jazzfest Berlin will easily understand why he calls it a "sound organ." After years on hiatus, the drummer is now reviving this deeply resonant project.

When one confronts Christian Lillinger with prominent colleagues' names, intending to find out how lasting his encounters with figures such as Rolf Kühn, Joachim Kühn, David Liebman, Alexander von Schlippenbach, or John Tchicai may have been, he responds with a staccato stream of additional names that have inscribed themselves into his musical biography:

Tamara Stefanovich, Mat Maneri, Craig Taborn, Joe Lovano, Christopher Dell, Peter Brötzmann, Beat Furrer, Peter Evans, Sofia Jernberg, John Schröder, Bob Degen, Lotte Anker, Barre Phillips, Evan Parker, Wadada Leo Smith, William Parker, Ernst-Ludwig Petrowsky, and many others...

Of course. When it comes to lasting influence, says Lillinger, "It's a difficult matter." To speak only about 0.1 percent of those influences would be unfair.

On the other hand, there were naturally his own decisions and major life steps that were connected to certain individuals. Lillinger speaks first of the decision "to start playing drums at all," and then of "having the opportunity, at sixteen, coming from a village, to study and pursue a professional path."

Here the support of Günther "Baby" Sommer, a towering figure of free jazz, was essential. "Another decisive moment was getting to know Joachim Kühn, who encouraged me to manifest my own music." From this ultimately emerged Christian Lillinger's Grund, an ensemble known for its distinctive dynamic forms of interplay.

If we continue digging deeper, Lillinger agrees that his search for a controlled freedom and openness in music-making is connected to personally perceived limitations- such as the traditional role of the drummer in jazz- as well as to his own biographical experiences:

My outlook was shaped by independence from a very early age. At the same time, I believe the classical role of the jazz drummer should be one of further development and expansion. Tradition is a constantly evolving form while preserving its roots.

For him, tradition also means, "being able to articulate oneself freely on one's instrument and develop one's own language." No surprise, then, that Lillinger regards jazz itself "as an art music" that demands alertness and continuous development.

Only in this way, he argues, can one do justice to the legacy of great innovators and carry their heritage forward through one's own artistic stance. "Everything else is dead music to me- music that merely fulfills a certain mood or expectation and thereby loses its timelessness. That interests me very little..."

Listening to Lillinger's music, it quickly becomes apparent that here is someone who hovers powerfully above stylistic boundaries. It is therefore tempting to throw a few more names and concepts at him to discover if he is influenced by contemporary classical music. Perhaps the aleatoric methods of John Cage or the open-form concepts of Karlheinz Stockhausen and Earle Brown play a role.

Open Form for Society group shot. Photo by Nadja Hoehfeld.

Perhaps the great sonic precision known from works by Pierre Boulez is also essential, particularly for the current and second recording by his ensemble Open Form For Society (OFFS). "Aleatoricism plays no role whatsoever in OFFS," says Lillinger. "My music is very concretely composed and written down in conventional notation."

Nevertheless, influences from contemporary classical music are numerous. He describes them with terms such as "serial" and "microtonal." His musical thinking also revolves around traditions such as spectralism, New Complexity, and concepts of micro-time and irrational time. These are, he says, "important procedural and inspirational sources."

Someone who formulates his ideas so consciously can perhaps summarize his aesthetic position in something approaching a manifesto:

It is a "new new" chamber music that incorporates space into its actions just as much as what is prescribed and written. The placement and interpretation of the notes are always in dialogue with spatiality. The performers create the space; within this space they navigate themselves. I am opposed to genre labels, so I would rather speak of "post-genre" and of "composer-performers," because everyone involved bears responsibility for shaping and further developing the material. It is a music that operates in a certain scientific manner and thereby continuously discovers new paths.

Immersing oneself in the recording Open Form for Society II (Plaist), one feels as though embarking on a journey through an enchanted sonic garden that gathers collective musical reflexes and conveys an atmosphere of highly energized, controlled freedom.

At times there are slowed-down events reminiscent of musical stalactite caves, as in "Aufgefächert." Elsewhere pulsating sound structures emerge, creating an almost nervous sonic world. Abstract piano figures and energetically charged sound spaces continually return, while density is omnipresent within this sounding architecture.

"Vector" and "Ocker" recall an originally abstracted and further-developed bebop aesthetic, yet with their own freely treated thematic material and repetitive patterns. Introspective and expressive structures form the poles of this musical universe.

How does such a world, constantly shifting between these poles, come into being? Does the personnel come first, or the composition?

It is a very heterogeneous process, one that I wanted to pursue as naturally as possible. Initially there was the vision of assembling a larger ensemble with a strongly percussive sonic language that reflects my way of seeing and realizing structure. Here the sound of Boulez's Sur Incises was an important inspiration.

At the same time, his work with nearly all of the musicians involved in various ensembles was another important factor.

Whether Dell Lillinger Westergaard [DLW], Stemeseder-Lillinger, the collaborations with Petter Eldh and Kaja Draksler, with Robert Landfermann, or with Anna D'Errico through my work with Klangforum Wien- all of this was formative and gave me a clear idea of how and what I can write and hear.

It is fitting that Lillinger mentions Boulez's Sur Incises. With its instrumentation of three pianos, three harps, and three percussionists, it is a sonic laboratory, an organized form of energy that Lillinger has expanded upon. Alongside himself on drums and electronics are Kaja Draksler (upright piano), Elias Stemeseder (spinet and synthesizer), Georg Vogel (electric clavinet), Anna D'Errico and Cory Smythe (piano), bassists Robert Landfermann, Jonas Westergaard, and Petter Eldh, and Christopher Dell on vibraphone.

The process of selecting collaborators was equally heterogeneous:

The criteria emerged from previous work with all participants in different projects. For me, this ensemble is the perfect way to connect and transcend the worlds of classical music and modernity. Some musicians are primarily responsible for the text, others for further developments regarding sound. My musical utopia requires excellent preparation: precise reading, abstraction, further writing, and transcendence. In this ensemble I consciously distribute that responsibility.

Transcendence, he says, is less a concept than "a result of working with the material itself. We combine influences from contemporary classical music, the avant-garde, and modern beat culture, creating a common point of fusion. Everyone involved must be capable of developing their own further plan based on what is written."

What may sound free is nevertheless clearly prescribed in many respects and directions, including highly detailed polyphonic notation and rhythmic structures:

[This project] has very little to do with conventional notions of freedom and openness. Freedom begins with the possibilities of variation and dynamics. Through repetition and the slow variation within those repetitions, an individual space emerges. Everything conditions everything else and appears as a shared whole: a meta-instrument, a sonic organism.

Working with the same colleagues over a long period can, of course, lead to a comfortable routine. One knows what the other person will do, adapts accordingly, and clichés may emerge.

Lillinger sees it differently. "I don't see that danger. Because I work with the same musicians over a long period, a genuine awareness develops of what the next stages might be." Intensive work and insight make it possible "to take those next steps. With consistent and continuous work, neither boredom nor routine arise."

A convincing explanation.

This leaves the title Open Form for Society, which seems to suggest a close connection between music and social thought. "The collective negotiation of the music I initiate serves as the foundation and basis for negotiation."

Does this also concern ideas of an open, liberal society, or democracy?

The latter, absolutely! It concerns the utopia of a continually improving social process sustained through negotiation and the collective discovery of solutions. However, I must say that this project is more a sound that accompanies and encourages open processes than one that fully embodies them. Because I am the composer and initiator, it ultimately belongs more to a closed, albeit flexible, structure.

For the openness of jazz, it is far too fixed and strict; for classical music, however, it remains too open. "It therefore exists between these often rigid and ultimately inadequate categories and hopefully inspires further thinking about these social limitations. The point is this: Never stop communicating and working. Never stop thinking!"

This is Lillinger's ambitious approach. One that could also help people outside music avoid more than a few traps of cliché and convention.

*Interview originally published in Jazz Podium, translated from German.

Christian Lillinger - Open Form for Society II (Plaist Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sat, 20 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Martin Schray

There is improvised music that grabs you right by the guts, the connection to this music is immediate and direct. Often you can feel it; it sweeps you away, strikes right to the core, and is able to lift you into a different state of consciousness. Peter Brötzmann and Joe McPhee, might come to the mind, Matana Roberts and Mette Rasmussen represent a younger generation. But there’s also music that takes a more intellectual approach, it’s harder to access, more abstract, more conceptual. That doesn’t mean it can’t move you, though - it just does it on a different level. The classic example of this would certainly be Anthony Braxton. Christian Lillinger’s projects also work this way - and they do so in a thoroughly fascinating way, especially when it’s his Open Form for Society outfit.

Lillinger describes the second album of his project as conceived, condensed chamber music - an exploration of sonic possibilities featuring a specially developed ensemble, which can be rightfully called a who’s who of modern European improvisers (plus an American one): Kaja Draksler (celesta, upright piano), Elias Stemeseder (harpsichord, synthesizer); Georg Vogel (claviton), Anna D’Errico and Cory Smythe (piano) make up the keyboard section, Robert Landfermann, Jonas Westergaard and Petter Eldh are on the basses, Christopher Dell is on vibraphone, and Lillinger himself is responsible for percussion and the composition of the music. Added to this are electronic and electroacoustic enhancements, conducted via metronome. Characteristic of this music are highly condensed conceptual structures and rhythmic polyphony, yet at the same time there’s a springy openness that makes it possible to appreciate this music even without prior knowledge of music theory. Spaces of freedom emerge every now and then, in which individual shaping and independent interpretative decisions become possible - and it’s precisely in these moments that the music happens to be more tangible and exciting.

At the heart of the album is the 14-minute “Poliform” - OFFS II in a nutshell, so to speak. Driven by flickering percussion and bone-dry basslines, the keyboards duel and support one another, creating expansive textures, breaking them up with rapid runs, and ensuring that the focus is constantly changing. Space and time are permanently shifted; it often sounds as if a cassette was wobbling along in an old cassette player. This creates the impression of coexisting temporal structures and a multitude of perspectives; rhythmic and harmonic cells are analyzed as if under a magnifying glass, only to then rewind the composition and direct the gaze toward a larger whole. The music thus eludes immediate grasp because it undergoes maximum change through its minimal shifts. Free jazz clusters exist alongside airy, transparent passages; frantic drum patterns reminiscent of pinball machine sounds are attacked by heavy bass lines. Here and there, a swing passage flashes briefly; in various corners of the room, individual keyboard chords flare up, only to burn out again very quickly.

One can hear this album as a musical inquiry into the relationship of time, a question once posed by Karl-Heinz Stockhausen and discussed here by Lillinger, but one can also simply enjoy tracks like “Topping Abnormal” for their unusual beauty, or the punk attitude of “Vector“. Another possibility is to explore the psychedelic side of “Setzung” or the heavy metal influences of “Plant.” For this album is, quite simply, a lot of fun.

In contrast to the first release, where the separation in the studio was the focus, OFFS II is about the unity of a shared space. The recordings were made in the studios of Deutschlandfunk in Cologne and reflect a sonic live image in which the entire material (with only a few overdubs) resounds and lives in a single room.

Open Form for Society II is available as a double album on vinyl, as a CD and as a download.

You can listen to parts of it and buy it here.

You can also watch a teaser of the recording sessions:

Hyper Elastic Jinx - We Vote Force Majeure (Barefoot Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Fri, 19 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Brian Earley

Let it happen at our peril.

This is the title of the final track on We Vote Force Majeure, a powerfully free set of collective improvisations by the band Hyper Elastic Jinx, and it is a prophetic warning.

For instance, climate change is projected to increase coastal flooding around Norway, Denmark, and Germany, where the musicians on this album primarily reside, by a factor of 10, 100, or even 1000 depending upon emissions scenarios.

“Let It Happen At Our Peril,” the song, opens with two saxophones, one the alto of Signe Emmeluth, one a tenor played by Nana Pi, both of whom are deeply connected to the Scandinavian experimental music scene. The saxophones warp and twist around each other as the song progresses. By mid-tune, the piece has erupted into a catastrophic explosion of sound, with drummer Halym Kim crashing down on the snare and cymbals, and guitarist Keisuki Matsuno firing hits and chords full of color and fuzzy, chorus-filled reverb that sounds to me like it's played on an old Fender amp built in the 1970s. Kim and Nana Pi have played extensively together on the Northern European scene, including on the 2022 album Tactical Maybe , a gorgeous and raucous experimental work I highly encourage everyone to check-out. Matsuno, on the other hand, has ties to the John Zorn world, playing on Zorn’s Bagatelles Volume 11 in 2022 with Jim Black. Emmeluth, of course, has forged a fiery reputation as dynamo of what the Free Jazz Collective has called The New Danish Thing.

But We Vote Force Majeure is not about its individual performers. It is an album of collective free improvisation for which all musicians share equally in the song-writing credits. It is a community in communion with the greater good, and despite my use of the word catastrophic in the previous paragraph, notes about the album on the Barefoot Records webpage state “The album is not an invocation of catastrophe, but a longing for a superior and irresistible force that people can’t ignore - a force that focuses on social values, cultural exchange and ecological sustainability.”

Despite this persistent optimism of the will, the album is meant to remind listeners “that the world and the structures we are living in are not socially, economically, ecologically or politically sustainable and benefit only a minority of people.”

The album warns it is “Always the Others,” the title of the second work on the record. Experts on the history of concentration camps point out that camps functioning in far away times and places are easily labeled as evil, while those erected and running here and now are commonly believed to hold the real bad guys. The individuals held in these places are so quickly othered. And, it is so easy for fascism to take root when its citizens believe it is always the others who face genuine danger. Here in the United States, for instance, by April 2026, 42,000 people with no prior criminal records were being detained in camps throughout the United States. These are camps for the mass detention of civilians, not war-time prisoners, who have not been given due process and were detained on the prejudicial basis of a larger group identity.

Perhaps “Let It Happen At Our Peril” and “Always the Others” call back and ahead philosophically to the album’s fourth track “Zero Point 75.” In the world of optometry, +0.75 Diopters is the lowest level used in a prescription to correct short-sightedness. The short sightedness of humanity may be a reality, but it is still at a correctable state. I don’t think the musicians play programmatically on this album, but I find it fitting that Halym Kim opens this song playing the drums as though it were the ticking of a manual alarm clock. We can only remain short sighted for so much time.

So, instead of shrinking away in despair of catastrophe, we can choose now to function like the example set by the musicians on this record: individually contributing to a working group dynamic. Here, this musical dynamic is one where the energy rises and washes over the listener more than any individual solo. The value is located in the spontaneous and present collective, not in a perfected show of musical virtuosity. It is force majeure: a force of such superior power that it is irresistible. And, as displayed on this wonderfully powerful album, it can be used as a force for good.

We Vote Force Majeure by Hyper Elastic Jinx

JAZZ IS DEAD! FESTIVAL - Torino, May 29-31

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Thu, 18 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Ferruccio Martinotti

A small yet great festival that along the years brought into town the likes of Peter Brotzmann, Mats Gustafsson, The Necks, Zu, Oren Ambarchi, Jamie Branch, Boris, John Edwards, Evan Parker, just to name a few, earning the perennial gratefulness of a faithful, constantly increasing, legion of diehard followers. But not only. While the music industry is devouring itself in a sick cannibalism of insanely expensive gigs, pre-sale tickets in the clutches of mafia-like algorithms and fake sold-outs, here at JID! for 15 euros (10 if you can’t afford more and 40 for the 3 days pass) you can see concerts from morning till night, when even the most grindcore eardrums beg ENOUGH. For its ninth edition, the festival is moving from post-industrial warehouses (The Bunker) to the green grounds of a farmhouse (Cascina Falchera), less than a mile from the noisy and busy outskirts of the city. Trees, lawns, camping, showers, blankets on the grass, hammocks, and barefoot children running around, create a fun and enjoyable short circuit between a hippie-esque, micro-Woodstock atmosphere and a soundtrack that is the furthest from those muddy Peace & Love days. This year’s lineup highlights once again what a properly focused festival should be: a defined perimeter, within which to showcase the various facets of the "editorial" prism, setting aside the rhetoric of a headliner and a bunch of (often out of context) support bands in front of a bored/distracted/pissed off audience, frantically waiting for the Star. Then there's everyone's taste, as it should be. Below, ours.

DAY 1

Lucrecia Dalt

The Colombian, Berlin based musician takes the stage with her guitar, flanked by bass/double bass, and drums for a set that, almost entirely, features her latest album, "A Danger to Ourselves," released last year. Her experimental electronica, a blend of avant-garde pop and dreamlike sound design, is always intriguing, but in its live outdoor dimension, it loses something compared to her recordings.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Matmos

After 30 years spent mixing up and transforming all kinds of electronic madness into "enjoyable" music, Drew Daniel and M.C. Schmidt seem still eager to have fun, and, of course, so are we. Glitches, loops, beats, and a set of steel containers struck with concentrated mastery are the menu of the evening. For the final piece, to bid farewell to the audience, they launch an irresistible straight-kick, 4/4 groove, which, for people who used to record liposuctions in operating rooms, is truly Super Yacht Rock Time! Legendary.

Photo Fabiana Amato

DAY 2

Yazz Ahmed

The Bahraini-born trumpeter, here on flugelhorn, accompanied by Ralph Wyld on vibraphone, weaves wonderful sonic textures that blend jazz and psychedelia, all flavored with Arabic fragrances inspired by her home country: a rock-solid sonic bridge between ancient worlds and contemporary avant-garde. Sublime, even at 11 am.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Moor Mother

She prepares her laptops gently and smiling, but when she presses the ON button, the San Andreas Fault sends a shockwave that can be felt all the way to Torino: Apocalypse Now. In the maelstrom generated by devastating industrial sounds and telluric dub rhythms, Camaye Ayewa dives headfirst, not only taking possession of the music but being totally possessed by it, just to reemerge wildly fiery and furious. Seen a month ago with Irreversible Entanglements, in her solo version she reaffirms one certainty: there’s no one like her out there.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Sorvina

From New York, but based in Berlin, the smiling charm of Sorvina jumps on stage as a full-band on this occasion, and her music, which blends jazz, rap, soul, and gospel, is enriched in its unique expression. Through her unmistakable voice, capable of conveying joy and vulnerability, she combines lyrical complexity and groove, always remaining faithful to the roots of authentic hip-hop.

Photo Fabiana Amato

The Heliocentrics

Among the cornerstones of British nu-jazz, they were one of our highlights on the agenda, and the concert fully met expectations. Featuring bass, cello/electronics, keyboards, drums, and sax/flute, theirs is a stunning synthesis of jazz, funk, and psychedelia, producing a hypnotic and sizzling sound, articulated by the stunning talented singer Barbora Patkova. After all, they've collaborated with true legends like Mulatu Astatke and members of the Sun Ra Arkestra for a reason.

Photo Fabiana Amato

DAY 3

How would you measure the love for music? The number of records you own? Too easy. The concerts you’ve seen? Nah. Or maybe, starting Day 3 of the Festival at 2 PM, while the heat bomb hits Torino like Milford Graves on his drum kit? Well, that could be a unit of measurement.

Dwarfs of East Agouza

Is it possible to blend the radical improvisation and hypnosis of krautrock with the energy of Egyptian shaabi? You have to be an absolute champion to pull it off, but with Maurice Louca, Sam Shalabi and Alan Bishop we are talking about off the scale cats. Assembling electronics, wind instruments, Arabic scales, jazz, and psychedelia, their angular trajectories obliterate any space/time dimension, and their constant balance between chaos and composition, imbued with an emancipatory free jazz spirit, is captivating above and beyond daydreaming.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Glacial

Elusive is an understatement. In 25 years, a single album and a handful of concerts for a rendez-vous of legends, Lee Ranaldo, Tony Buck, and David Watson: those who were there will be able to tell their grandchildren about it. Buck's polyrhythms (of Necks' fame) are accompanied by Ranaldo's anti-guitar playing (Glenn Branca, Sonic Youth), where the instrument is struck, dragged on the ground, played with the bow and Watson's bagpipes (Yoshi Wada, Phil Niblock), all generating a cascade of noise, free, drones, and psychedelia. Glacial in name and in deed.

Photo Fabiana Amato

Sanam

Blossomed into the Beirut scene after a collaboration with Hans Joachim Irmler from Faust, they confirm on stage the amazing, original outcome heard on their last album “Sametou Sawtan”. Modern Arabic poetry delivered by the stellar singer Sandy Chamoun, feedback, improvisation, traditional music and jazz, are delivering a unique sonic synthesis that defies all genre boundaries. The geographical boundaries of their Homeland have already been defied and breached by tanks.

Photo Fabiana Amato

The Avant Garde Flamenco Trio – Lunar(Redshift Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Wed, 17 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Nick Ostrum

Lunar came as something of a surprising to me. I found the title of the group appealing and somewhat cryptic. So, I loaded the music into my media player and clicked play.

For the first 5 minutes, I could not figure out what was happening. The music sounded Latin. The guitar had that recognizable Andalusian flair and emotive sheen. The trumpet blared with a similar snap, sometimes fading into a style reminiscent of later Dennis Gonzalez electro-acoustic productions and sometimes cutting forward in fanfare. Then, an oddly familiar voice cut through, singing in a gruff Spanish. It was in the spacious, non-melodic parts that I started to notice the slightly askew cadences and scales, that evoked the pastures of Mesopotamia as much as the Mexican grasslands. Then, it dawned on me: this is Emad Armoush.

I have written about Armoush before. He has played in Gordon Grdina’s Haram and his own Rayhan, both of which have strong Middle Eastern roots. In the Avant Garde Flamenco Trio, Armoush has distilled his six-strong Rayhan group to a core of three: JP Carter on trumpet and electronics, Kenton Loewen on drums, and Armoush himself on guitar, oud, and vocals. The result is absolutely riveting.

Lunarfollows a flamenco tradition, but, as with the Armoush’s other projects, it strays far into improvisational territory, not just varying a theme or running charts and scales but diving head-first into expansive passages – backed by some wispy electric ambience and Loewen’s soft and itinerant drums – that lack a predetermined center. The melodies and vocal patterns draw the listener in. But it is these long moments, where the musicians fumble for direction through terrain alternately spacious and pastoral and raucously discordant, that hold the album together and distinguish it from the classical and folk traditionalists that have pioneered these forms before.

The title, Lunar, is telling. Per Armoush, the album is about the Middle East, more so than its potential Spanish or Latin American terrain. It is about war, conflict, and suffering. The pastures noted above have been turned to a barren moonscape of rocket pockmarks, twisted and charred flora, absent of the life – the farms, the animals, the crops, the fellaheen, the villages – that preceded. However, the very act of commemoration, of lamentation, is, also, an act of life, that is absent any genuine lunar terrain. A true gift, even if it is riven by suffering and tragedy.

Lunar is available as a download from Bandcamp.

Lunar by The Avant-garde Flamenco Trio

18th Jazzdor Strasbourg-Berlin Festival (June 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Tue, 16 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Paul Acquaro

Based in Strasbourg, France, Jazzdor has been producing its flagship festival for more than 35 years, with a sister edition in Germany for over 18 and a new collaboration now taking root in Budapest. The music presented by Jazzdor has been consistently illuminating, introducing both emerging and established musicians to new audiences and fostering collaborations between European and even some American musicians. This year also marks a transition, with Vincent Bessières stepping in as artistic director following the long tenure of founder Philippe Ochem.

Spread over four days in early June, Bessières brought his vision for the festival to the Gretchen Club in Berlin's Kreuzberg neighborhood. Featuring two sets per evening each night featured groups linked by their style and, of course, their French connections. As opposed to other years where groups had been curated for their premier performance, Bessières was relying on working groups, something he attributed more to the time he has had so far to develop his vision than to future ambitions.

The new location lent a different feel to the event. Previous years were held in the cavernous Maschinenhaus in Berlin's Kulturbrauerei, located in a 19th century brewery in the city's gentrified Prenzlauer Berg neighborhood. Offering a large stage area and ample room, the space could host large ensembles, which they did with a big band playing Carla Bley's music or Steve Lehman's ambitious Ex Machina orchestra, but could also feel a bit impersonal. Gretchen Club, in the grittier Kreuzberg, has a cozier jazz club like atmosphere with it's low arched ceiling and columns.

Waken

Tuesday's show kicked off with the group WAKEN, a piano trio led by France-based pianist Francesca Han with bassist Pierre Fenicheland drummer Fred Pasqua. The trio presented a vibrant, melodic set of songs, with pieces containing atmospheric and dreamy moments, along with syncopated and uptempo passages that often slowly developed into driving tunes. Elements of classical as well as pop music were interwoven with expressive soloing from all three musicians.

Amaury Faye NOLA Quartet

They were followed by the Amaury Faye NOLA Quartet featuring the drummer Herlin Riley. Group leader, French pianist Faye, had an extended stay in New Orleans where he spent time immersing himself in the local culture and taking long walks through the city (one time apparently wearing a panda costume), soaking in the atmosphere. One impression that he came away with was "rust," as he explained, it was on the bridges, around the buildings, and in the rail yards. Another was, obviously, the music and the set was an often uptempo take on traditional New Orleans jazz with a modern jazz sheen. With him was saxophonist Julian Lee, bassist Edouard Pennes and Lincoln Center Jazz Orchestra drummer Herlin Riley, who played with an animated showmanship.

Polybahn

What could be considered the 'traditional jazz' night was followed on Wednesday by two experimental leaning groups. The first group, Polybahn , is the occasional working group of saxophonist Michael Attias , drummer Samuel Ber and pianist Benoit Delbecq , announced by Bessieres as "abstract, but poetic." Adhering to this description, the group performed a set-long improvisation that flowed effortlessly from quiet introspection to agitated formulations. Beginning with Attias gently blowing into the horn and sprinkles of notes from Delbecq, the music unraveled patiently with Ber's gentle but firm persuasion. Switching between saxophones, Attias played long melodic strands on the soprano while Delbecq punctuated his phrasings with palm plants on the keyboard. Ber, an intense drummer, concentrated on the core of his kit, a snare, bass drum, one cymbal to underscore the group's palpable pulse.

Hélène Duret's Synestet

Wednesday's second set, clarinetist Hélène Duret's Synestet featuring Nils Wogram, had the French - German collaboration performing the music from their latest recording, Perception.From a trembly, squeaky start through some deep rumbling notes, the music emerged slowly but assuredly. A simple repeating pattern from guitarist Benjamin Sauzereau then set the group in full motion. Saxophonist Sylvain Debasieux began playing an oozing, layered solo that built up to a final defiant squawk from Duret on the bass clarinet. Trombonist Nils Wogram came to the stage about a quarter of the way into the set. Having recorded the last album with the group, he was already well poised to lend his expertly melodic voice to the group. Across their diverse set, the music veered from slow, hypnotic vibes to fiery uptempo pieces with cinematic scope with the superb support of bassist Fil Caporali and drummer Maxime Rouayroux. The final piece, the appropriately titled 'Adieu,' was carried by Sauzereau guitar work centering around an extended solo that synthesized Bill Frisell's Americana twang with angular jabs of surf guitar.

Trouble

Successfully lowering the audience's median age, the third night of the festival shifted in a more electronic music direction. Even though both groups played primarily using traditional acoustic and electric instruments, they both also had woven electronics deep into their approach, in quite different ways. The first group, Trouble, offered a compelling vision of how electronics, looping and minimalism could work in a jazz context. With drummer Antonin Leymarie's drums at the center, perfectly supported by Fabrizio Rat's reductionist piano work, Clément Petit's and Maëlle Desbrosses ' captivating cello and viola playing, and Élise Caron's hypnotic voice, the group spun repetitive acoustic grooves, adorned with electronics and effects, into euphoric climatic moments. One piece, apparently a story of love between robots and a later piece, both of whose name escaped my note taking, were rather spellbinding moments of classical music that used the minimalist looping to a maximum effect. The following group, Photons with Gauthier Toux on electronics, Giani Caserottoon guitar, Samuel F’Hima on bass, and Julien Loutelieron drums, took a different approach, opting for a ‘live techno’ direction in which the electronics and formulaic beat structures became the primary focus.

Garden of Silences

Friday, the final night, offered yet another perspective on the state of jazz — an ethno‑folk jazz strain, if we look for a term that steers clear of the loaded ‘world‑music’ label. Both Garden of Silences and Mosaic were truly multi-cultural blends that sought - and found - new ways to blend strong traditions into something captivating and new. Garden of Silences is formed around violinist Clément Janinet and trumpeter Arve Henriksen along with accordionist Ambre Villermoz and bassist Robert Lucaciu. Mixing classical repertoire with free improvisation and Swedish folk, the group plays a music that is not jazz nor classical nor folk, but with all of these elements, utterly captivating. Beginning with a swirl of accordion and the trumpet playing a slow melody, a gentle, provocative classical countermelody emerged from the violin and bass. The next piece featured a dramatic introduction from Henriksen over a churning undercurrent from Janiet. Throughout, the trumpeter employed electronic elements and vocals and the groups final tune was a turn toward a more modern melodic approach. They have an self-titled album out on BMC records.

Mosaic, comprised of musicians from Bulgaria, France, Portugal and Tunisia, met at a music event in Malta and have developed a unique Mediterranean-jazz. Big rhythms, dynamic interactions and even some renaissance music flair brought out by Georgi Dobrev's kaval, a Balkan flute. Slowly building pieces gave way to epic storms with swirling counter melodies and mounting polyrhythms. Interactions between Dobrev, cellist Adèle Viret, accordionist Noé Clerc , bassist Zé Almeida, drummer Diogo Alexandre and percussionist Hamdi Jammoussi kept the audience enthralled up until and after Jammoussi's climatic solo credenza encore on his blue back-lit hand drum.

Even in a somewhat more compact format, the festival successfully again spotlighted a fertile and varied European scene, with an eye towards the future of jazz. With its growing network of events in Strasbourg, Berlin, and Budapest, Jazzdor is clearly still evolving. Bessières speaks of new partnerships and new directions; if this year is any indication, there’s real potential in that aspiration.

Achim Kaufmann, Yorgos Dimitriadis, Michael Thieke – Hiss and Whirr (Wide Ear Records, 2025)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Mon, 15 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Dan Sorrells

In this moment of hollow AI mimicry, the hiss and whirr of three musicians locked in improvisation starkly highlights the very creative capacity that our inhuman technology tries and fails to co-opt. Like cogs that can be retooled and reconfigured on the fly, Achim Kaufmann, Yorgos Dimitriadis, and Michael Thieke create something genuinely novel and in constant renewal, even as it may remind us—perhaps uncannily—of the regularity and precision of machines.

Dimitriadis has previously worked in the duo format with both Kaufmann and Thieke. To the extent putting the three together calls machinery to mind, it's of the churning, industrial sort. Throughout Hiss and Whirr, the interlocking of Kaufmann's prepared piano, Dimitriadis's percussion, and Thieke's frequently beguiling clarinet takes on a cryptic quality, like hearing unseen work from behind closed doors. What reach us on the other side are the sonorous workings of machines or systems whose purpose is hopelessly obscured. Much of this derives from the fascinating way the trio arrests and warps time. There's a constancy that feels more like cyclical layering than linear exposition, even as the music ceaselessly changes. This lends a hypnotic feel to pieces like the opening title track with its thumping toms and gently clanging piano. It can also yield drama: "an epoch of rain" is a ratchet with almost no forward movement—just increasing tension, winding tighter and tighter. But these rhythms and tempos aren't rigid. Their contours flex and are redrawn as patterns accumulate and dissipate. Eventually, the sounds darken, becoming damp and subterranean. "or hunger that gets lost" works itself into an eerie space, notes dripping like the intricate, unsteady polyrhythms in a cavernous cistern.

The trio further obscure their human hands through the nuanced deployment of electronics, which both Kaufmann and Dimitriadis use as atmospheric augments and occasionally to cast doubt on true causes. Thieke, for his part, uses his formidable technique to conjure the same effects. There's an electric charge gathering in his feedback tones from "the minute it isn't held," and the subtle tongue slaps that end "of fragments flowering" sound like a clipping audio track.

The sounds on Hiss and Whirr often seem influenced by the technological thrum of our modern lives and the ways in which individuals are subsumed in the complexity that emerges as intersecting processes are set into motion. But just try to imagine this music being spat from a soulless algorithm. It could never be derived from a series of probabilistic calculations, because its improbability is its greatest asset. Free improvisation is the antithesis of derivative slop.

hiss and whirr by Achim Kaufmann / Yorgos Dimitriadis / Michael Thieke

Ivo Perelman and Damon Smith - Duologue 6: Core of Existence (Squid Note, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sun, 14 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

Ivo Perelman continues his duologue series with a conversation with bassist Damon Smith, and this is a duologue well worth listening in on. Bass and saxophone seem naturally attuned to interact: two instruments built on vibration, the sax of a reed and the bass of a string. In both instruments, the air moved by vibration is passed through a resonant body to create texture, warmth, and depth. Their kinship is physical, but their voices are utterly distinct, and that tension is where the chemistry happens.

Across the album, the musicians explore the full expressive range of their instruments. They trade thunks, whispers, vibrato, sudden bursts of intensity, and passages of exquisite stillness. What emerges is a sense of deeply engaged conversation.

The tracks on Duologue: Core of Existence are numbered 1-12, and across the album, the range and versatility of both musicians is demonstrated. From the sax-led inspiration on track 1, the extemporised playing of Perelman on track 2, supported by the depths of resounding notes from the bass, to the dance-like trilling of the sax on track 3, supported by the bass, this time using higher notes and vibrato to add a different texture to the music.

On track 4, there is a shift in emphasis, and the bass supports Perelman playing in a range of styles, at one time creating a fuzzy background texture and another a plucked, plinky, rhythmic style. On track 5, the bass is fast, furious, and then suddenly delicate under Perelman's intensity, the beauty of the track developing as each musician listens not only to each other but also uses silences to add punctuation.

Across the album, tenor sax and bass are used as instruments of engagement, negotiation, and to exchange ideas, sometimes one suggesting, sometimes the other. While this is free playing, without supposed form, there are different patterns, rhythms, and styles, from the intense to the gentle and sublime. Even when Perelman is following a delirious line or sliding in a snippet from a traditional jazz tune, the bass is ever changing, reacting, and engaging with the ideas. On track 8, the final phrases see the bass loose stringed and plucked, creating a shimmering effect under the tenor line.

Track 9 sees a shift in emphasis, as this is bass-led and glorious, with Perelman affording the Smith ample room and scope while supplying notions, ideas, and quicksilver rivulets of sound for the bass to react to. Even when Perelman is at his most unrestrained, Smith’s bass is in motion, reacting with invention and agility, introducing ideas of his own making. The fabulous contrast in the middle section between the high-pitched screams of the tenor and the deepest, darkest throat of the bass is extraordinary.

As in all the Duologue series, Perelman seems to relish conversing with other musicians and instruments in a musical encounter where he can pitch the tenor sax against different bodies, materials, and modes of vibration, yet the underlying principle remains. Sound is a shared exploration. Perelman and each of the musicians he has played with in the series tap into creating vibrations: notes, music, in different ways, but as ever, there is a commonality in conversations. Perelman, in this series, is the alchemist who makes it happen, drawing out the unique resonances of each collaborator. With Smith, the chemistry is profound, two musicians creating vibrations in different ways but providing meaning and conversation in equal measure. It is here where magic happens.

Duologue 6: Core of Existence by Ivo Perelman and Damon Smith

Ivo Perelman, Matthew Shipp, Bobby Kapp, and William Parker - Synesthesia (Defkaz, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sat, 13 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

Ivo Perelman is a musician, artist, and jeweller who works with many musicians of different styles. He sees the world slightly differently from some of us, in that he sees sound in colour. So the title of the recording, Synesthesia, is apt. In his contribution to my book Music Is Your Superpower, Perelman describes music not as a choice, but as an essential for existence. He says of music, and jazz in particular, “What truly connected me to jazz was the emotional intensity within its structure, especially in the music of Shorter. It felt almost impossible to perform music that was so intricately constructed while simultaneously conveying such depth of feeling.”

He also talks about his synesthesia – the phenomenon of seeing sound as colours. When Perelman plays music, it feels as if he is creating a work of art, and when he is painting, he can relate it to creating a saxophone solo. Art, colour, and music are interlinked. His intense need to create may explain his productivity in music. His way of playing and interpreting musical dialogue draws to him musicians who understand his musical visions.

On Synesthesia, Perelman has teamed again with close associates Matthew Shipp (piano), William Parker (bass), and Bobby Kapp (drums) in a new recording that captures their deep connection and still evolving voices in contemporary free jazz. With the pathways forged with ‘Ineffable Joy’ and ‘Heptagon’, the group continues to establish new routes in spontaneous composition, open form, and strong collective interplay.

The difference on ‘Synesthesia’ is that the music is more crystallised, and has a deeper sense of flow and connection. That connection is revealed in the rapid reactions of the musicians as they listen and respond to each other, offering individual takes that go to create a whole. Perelman explores his tenor sax, moving across its range with soft, melodic interludes, intense, electric solos, and contrasting altissimo. Shipp demonstrates his innate art of support as his circling, looping chordal progressions offer up subtle melodic ideas that pilot the ensemble in places. The bass of Parker is constant, with deep, sonorous melodies, with space left for musical dialogue. Kapp adds colour and motion, while filling in the detail of the sonic landscape with percussive touches and occasional solos.

Across the album, there is that contrast of intense energy, such as on ‘First Color Heard,’ and quiet, reflective passages, such as those on ‘Afterglow.’ The contrasts coexist, interlinked and cohesive to create the harmonic dialogue that only comes with experience and understanding other musicians.

On ‘Phosphene,’ Perelman travels familiar pathways, yet introduces new elements into each, creating a sense of the unexpected. Shipp’s piano excels on this track with its quiet support and triumphantly emergent solo work. The beautiful moment when Perelman enters across the piano solo with astonishingly accurate pitch contrast is just beautiful. There is even a snippet from a song from Perelman before he reverts to free playing. Into the quiet moments, Parker’s bass sighs and works its magic – an excellent track.

On ‘Blue Taste,’ the influence of jazz masters past and present can be felt as the ensemble delivers free-style jazz commentary across a blues-infused rhythm pattern. Perelman's pipping, and squealing contrast with the steadfast whirr of the accompaniment, while ‘Afterglow’ is a much gentler affair altogether. ‘One Sense’ has an atmosphere of a ‘50s jazz venue for some inexplicable reason, possibly because of the interaction between traditional rhythms and free playing – glorious.

Like in a lot of Perelman’s work, the blues and bop elements make themselves known, interwoven amidst abstract sonic textures that create a flowing, organic development. Synesthesia is a recording that has the quality you might expect from an experienced ensemble, who know each other’s ways so well, yet it still has elements of surprise and supreme intuitive styling that give it its energy and expression.

On Synesthesia, there is no discernible fixed structure, yet the harmonics and classically linked progressions tell of a musical ensemble deeply knowledgeable in musical scaffolding and pinning on that scaffold experimental lines that always work back to the root. The title says it all, a kaleidoscope of jewelled, colourful music, with deep, dark textures and light, contrasting hues. There are shapes woven here, along with colorful landscapes, through which the ensemble meanders, careens, and gently rests on occasion. This is an album that will have broad appeal.

Synesthesia by Ivo Perelman, Matthew Shipp, William Parker, Bobby Kapp

Gabriel Vicéns – Niebla (Clepsydra Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Fri, 12 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Nick Ostrum

Gabriel Vicéns first came to my attention with 2024’s Mural, which itself was a big step in the young guitarist and composer’s musical evolution. That album marked a turn from the Latin-tinged modern jazz of his previous work toward modernist and postmodernist classical traditions. Niebla finds Vicéns with a sextet with whom he has years of history, but, as far as I can tell, has never stretched so far into this blended, abstract musical territory, at least together. The crew includes saxophonist Roman Filiú, pianist Vitor Gonçalves, bassist Rick Rosato, and the double percussion section of E.J Strickland and Victor Pablo, in addition to Vicéns himself on guitar.

On Niebla (fog), Vicéns and crew simultaneously take a step further out and a step back to Caribbean traditions. For some a split like this would tear at the ligaments of conviction. Here, the group shows rare agility in pulling it off. The album has a lot going for it. Influences range from contemporary jazz to especially Feldman and Cage-inspired classical to Puerto Rican and Cuban rhythmacism. Now, new music and driving rhythm may seem anathema to each other. Throw in some jumpy bop lines (I cannot shake the feeling that some of these phrases are slightly laggard takes on Salt Peanuts, or something like it), Filiú’s and Vicéns entangling lines (I hear nods to Metheny in the latter), Gonçalves’ seasoned restraint, and a wildly pulsing rhythm section and one might think the resulting stew could never settle properly. But it does.

The jauntier fusion numbers here – Niebla, Stray Dogs – lay into that kaleidoscopic description above. The more patient pieces – 900-50-80, Guaiza – strike an unexpectedly convincing balance between repetition, abstraction, and gradualism. The odd time signatures and especially the polyrhythmic drumming add to this, hinting at phasing and free jazz arrhythmia. So too do the moments when the band spans the gap between old and new, or indigenous and hypermodernist practices, as in the scratchy güiro solo about nine minutes into the vertiginous Ramaje. This one runs from some Escherian hive of staircases to noirish jazz (with a solo by Strickland worthy of Andrew Cyrille) to straight-up New York minimalism to the barest of güiro scrapes and rasps framed by silence, or, as the listener’s ears remain perked, an aural fog of what preceded and anticipation of what might come next. In that, Niebla is liminal, resting on the boundary between traditions and, in its various twists and turns, eschewing complacency in any given moment or direction.

Nieblais available as a CD and download here.

Niebla by Gabriel Vicéns

Quagmire & Christer Bothén - Rörane (Relative Pitch, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Thu, 11 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Eyal Hareuveni

The Swedish Gothenburg-based free-improvising Quagmire trio features Swiss-Swedish double bass player Nina de Heney, hyper-pianist Karin Johansson, and drummer Henrik Wartel. This trio released its debut self-titled album in 2019 on the Portuguese label Creative Sources, highlighting its imaginative layering of spontaneous, sound-oriented textures with an array of inventive extended bowing, inside-the-piano, and percussive techniques that soon coalesced into instant, haunting compositions.

Rörane was recorded at the isolated, old barn Rörane Studio and performance space in Bohuslän by Andreas Werliin (the ex-drummer of Fire! trio), and features the legendary local bass and contrabass clarinetist Christer Bothén (b. 1941), known for his collaboration with Don Cherry (he taught Cherry the donso n’goni), and for his new band Cosmic Ear (with Mats Gustafsson and Goran Kajfeš). Bothén also did the cover artwork.

The album was recorded during a short tour of this ad-hoc quartet. The Rörane area, with its rich cultural history, rock carvings, nature reserves, and burial grounds, offered the right atmosphere to immerse oneself in the spirit of the place. The five pieces deepen the nuanced interplay of Quagmire, enjoying the organic, emphatic, and profoundly poetic contribution of Bothén. Each piece suggests its own unpredictable sonic landscape and its own mysterious, acoustic mantras, flirting with the otherworldly, electroacoustic sounds, or disorienting, statis-like textures. Bothén pushes Quagmire into urgent interplay at the beginning of the 19-minute title piece, but soon the quartet’s dynamics gravitate into the more lyrical and introspective. And since then, breath, bow, strings, skins, and cymbals dance in an inspiring, delicate way, allowing themselves to push their common sonic palettes gently and invite the listeners to immerse themselves in the deeply spiritual musical universe of Qugamire and Bothén. You may feel that the ancient spirits Rörane had some part in this beautiful, arresting sonic ritual.

Rörane by Quagmire & Christer Bothén

gabby fluke-mogul - GUT Live at Roulette (self-released, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Wed, 10 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Richard Blute

“Life is like playing a violin solo in public and learning the instrument as one goes on.”

-Samuel Butler

A stunner from violinist gabby fluke-mogul (they don’t capitalize their name). gabby and frequent collaborator violist Joanna Mattrey are redefining the roles of their instruments in improvised music.

There have been violins in jazz since its very earliest days, going back to the music of Stuff Smith, who played violin in Alphonse Trent’s big band in the 1920s and subsequently led his own bands. (Be sure to check out Smith’s work on the amazing historical jazz label The Complete Jazz Series.)

But this is something very different.

I first discovered the two artists when I randomly clicked on a Youtube video of a solo performance by Joanna Mattrey. My initial reaction after 10 seconds was “My god, what is she doing to that poor viola?”. Another 10 seconds later and I was completely hooked. I realized I was watching something extraordinary and unlike anything I had encountered before.

Joanna’s music led me to the music of gabby. The violin in gabby’s hands was an instrument that could combine traditional classical music, improvisation and harsh noise into a remarkable stew. While Antonio Stradivari is no doubt spinning in his grave, I was thrilled. I had found something genuinely new and exciting.

A review of gabby’s bandcamp page finds multiple treasures where gabby shows their virtuosity and their unique approach to the instrument. There are solo albums, Love Songs and Threshold,both great. There are two duos with percussionists: Lily Finnegan on Throw It In The Sink,and Nava Dunkelman on Likht,which demonstrate another side of their playing. The first is great fun.Also excellent is a duo with Joanna on Oracle.Possibly gabby’s finest collaborations are on the albums Death in The Gilded Agewith Joanna, Ava Mendoza and Matteo Liberatore and Mama Killa with Ava Mendoza and Carolina Pérez.

The album Gut: Live At Rouletteis unlike anything gabby, or anyone else, has done before. It might seem like a solo violin album, but gabby had a partner, sound technician Danishta Rivero, who, to quote the liner notes, “processed the instrument’s timbre with rock concert-quality barrages of sound”. The result was then blasted through 14 speakers, which must have been crushing but delightful to the Roulette crowd.

From the description on the Bandcamp page, I was almost expecting something like Metal Machine Music on violin. While there is an element of that, gabby produces much more. They frequently pluck the violin or bow with minimal arm movement and with Rivero’s overamplification, I swear I hear Hendrix. They also manage to use the violin as a percussion instrument. There are also quiet moments to be had. Those moments of calm make the louder moments more intense in contrast and one can listen to notes decay into something beautiful and then we just hear silence. There’s even a lovely tribute to occasional violinist Ornette Coleman to be found.

All proceeds from the sale of this album go to South Brooklyn community members targeted by ICE via standwithsouthbrooklyn.org.

GUT Live at Roulette by gabby fluke-mogul

James “Blood“ Ulmer (1940 - 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Tue, 09 Jun 2026 22:03:01 +0000

Photo by Peter Gannushkin

ByMartin Schray

“I don’t take a stand. I follow. I followed Ornette Coleman’s harmolodic theory, and I still follow it, and I followed it so closely that I realized that to truly follow it in the best way possible, I have to become a harmolodic person, to be able to follow the harmolodic system. So that’s why I’m talking about blues and jazz and boom-boom, and Third Rail and all this - because I am a harmolodic person,” James “Blood” Ulmer once said in an interview with Ted Panken. Ulmer’s style was absolutely unique in its harmolodic nature; no guitarist could blend free jazz, blues, jazz-rock, and funk quite like he did - perhaps because he played all kinds of Black music from an early age before finding his own path. As has only just become known, the guitarist passed away last week at the age of 86.

Born Willie James Ulmer in St. Matthews, South Carolina in 1940, Ulmer was already playing guitar at the age of four, his father taught him his first chords. He initially played in a gospel quartet, then - in 1959 - he moved to Pittsburgh as a professional musician, where he initially played in R&B bands. In the early and mid-1960s, he played in organ-dominated soul-jazz bands before he moved to Detroit and played in bands of such diverse musicians as Dionne Warwick, Chuck Jackson, George Adams, and John Patton. In 1971, he moved to New York City and there he performed with Art Blakey, Paul Bley, Larry Young, and Joe Henderson. It was also there that he met Ornette Coleman, an encounter that would shape his musical outlook for the rest of his life. Ulmer became a member of Ornette Coleman’s live bands in the 1970s and from that point on, he was the “harmolodic person” he talked about in Panken’s interview. Ulmer and Coleman then jointly developed the concept - originally conceived by Ornette for jazz - into “Harmolodic Funk”. This can be heard for the first time on Ulmer’s debut album Tales of Captain Black (Artists House, 1979), which featured Coleman and his son Denardo (drums) as well as Ulmer’s longtime collaborator Jamaladeen Tacuma on bass.

Starting in 1980, Ulmer led his own trio with Calvin Weston (drums) and Amin Ali (bass), with whom he performed his own compositions based on Coleman’s harmolodic concept. Later, he also worked with George Adams (ts) and the Music Revelation Ensemble, whose album No Wave was released in Germany in 1980 by Moers Music. Ulmer usually struck the strings very percussively with his thumb and favored sometimes bizarre open tunings, including the Ornette Coleman-inspired harmolodic tuning. But blues, distorted sounds, idiosyncratic bends, and noisy interludes also shaped his sharp, edgy, clanging playing. The recordings with his own trio that followed - such as Are You Glad to Be in America? (Rough Trade, 1980), Free Lancing (CBS, 1981), Odyssey (Columbia, 1983), Revealing (In+Out Records, 1990) or the outrageous live recordings from New York’s Knitting Factory in the 1990s - reveal a monster on the guitar. Absurd staccatos, splintering sounds, and funk rhythms pile up in the songs; in such moments, the giant Ulmer had no competition, the music shows an artist at the height of his art. During that time he teamed up with tenor saxophonist George Adams once more and created the quartet Phalanx. Their Got Something Good For You (Moers Music,1986) featured Amin Ali and Calvin Weston again, whereas Original Phalanx (DIW, 1987) and In Touch (DIW, 1988) boasted bassist Sirone and drummer Rashied Ali. Between these albums Ulmer released America Do You Remember the Love? (Blue Note, 1986), a jazz-rock quartet session with guitarist Nicky Skopelitis, bassist Bill Laswell and Ronald Shannon Jackson, heavily influenced by Laswell’s ambient/world philosophy.

James “Blood“ Ulmer’s influence on the experimental New York downtown scene of the 1980s is undeniable; bands like DNA and Mars drew inspiration from him, and Living Colour’s guitarist Vernon Reid produced the man’s blues albums from the 2000s, for example Birthright (2005) or Bad Blood In The City. The Piety Street Sessions (2007), both on Hyena Records. “Ulmer is fully aware of his craft, both theoretically and idiomatically - he just never let those concerns hold him back. He’s a rocker. He’s unapologetically himself. He is the blues. Himself. Not his rules,” said Reid. Even at the end of his career Ulmer proved that statement and was able to soar, for example when he joined The Thing on Baby Talk (Live At Molde International Jazz Festival 2015),(The Thing Records 2017). Ulmer also released Back in Time with his Odyssey Band on Pi Recordings in 2005 featuring downtown musicians drummer Warren Benbow and violinist Charles Burnham.

At the 2024 Detroit Jazz Festival James “Blood“ Ulmer played his final concert, retiring soon after due to deteriorating health. The previous year, during a two-night residency at Solar Myth in Philadelphia, he played a concert with Calvin Weston (drums) and Mark Peterson (bass), which summed up his sound in a nutshell: the blues, the soul, the free funk - and the harmolodics.

James “Blood“ Ulmer died June, 3rd, “his music was fearless, and so was his spirit”, his family said in a statement. One of the greatest Black music guitarists ever has gone. May he rest in peace.

Watch James “Blood“ Ulmer at Solar Myth in Philadelphia in 2023:

Marion Brown – Live in Europe 1968 &1972 (NoBusiness, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Tue, 09 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Kenneth Blanchard

Marion Brown (1935-2010) attacked the new thing when it was really new, but he never achieved the fame of avant garde giants. If you like intense, energetic, and genuinely free jazz, listen to Why not? (ESP 1968). Or, maybe even better, Three for Shepp (Impulse 1966).

The collection here is one from the vaults. The first 3 numbers were recorded at the Maison de la Radio that same year. The last 2 at the Festival de Châteauvallon, Ollioules, France in 1972. Along with Brown’s alto sax are Gunter Hampel on vibraphone, Barre Philips on bass, and Steve McCall on drums.

The Maison Ronde recordings are by far the best of the five. Brown was a pioneer of a certain kind of free composition. He takes a simple, bluesy phrase, twists it inside out, and extracts every last drop of nectar. Beyond that phrase, there is no narrative. There is, however, the slightly melancholy mood of the horn itself. Brown’s sound reminds me somewhat of Steve Lacy, especially in his collaborations with Mal Waldron. His playing, on the other hand, is similar to what you might hear on Miles Davis Live at the Plugged Nickel or, more recently, the amazing recordings of Fred Anderson. Marion Brown is one of those jazz geniuses that could expand his soul into simple horn lines with such grace as to make the angels jealous.

One caveat is that the recording is not what the music deserves. At the 1st venue, you can hear the horn just fine. The rest of the band really needs to come up at bit. The same is true for the horn on the last two cuts, but the supporting instruments are largely reduced to the sound of wind chimes. To what extent this was intended (it was 1972 and the drugs had taken effect) I do not know. It gets better as the piece, Djinji’s Corner, goes on. Short of halfway through you can hear everything.

I am grateful to NoBusiness for bringing this document to my ears. I realize that margins are tight, but I do wish there was more documentation on this recording. There is a lot of cheap talent out there (yours truly, for example) who would do the research.

Meanwhile, if you have no Marion Brown in your collection, any time after 1972 is a good time to start. The recordings mentioned above are good. This one gives you some dangerous beauty.

Live in Europe 1968 & 1972 by Marion Brown / Gunter Hampel / Barre Phillips / Steve McCall

Moers Lets Down its Hair (Moers Festival 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Mon, 08 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Paul Acquaro

55th Moers Festival: May 21 - 25, 2026

Once upon a time, in a land where melodies did not necessarily neatly resolve, there lived a jazz festival known far and wide. Its name traveled on the wind, whispered across oceans, appearing on record sleeves on shelves from Frankfurt to Philadelphia. Many a listener kept treasured vinyl marked with its crest—perhaps a spellbinding Evan Parker incantation, or a tale spun by John Carter.

But one day, as festivals sometimes do when the moon hangs just right, this venerable gathering felt a stirring—a curious, mischievous idea fluttering at its edges. It wondered what might happen if it dared to dream a little differently…

Having spread its wings and expanded its scope, the Moers festival has grown from its avant-garde roots into something much larger. Weaving in modern jazz, new music, poetry, political discourse and more, the theme this year was fairy tales, which the printed program whimsically presented in its surreal prose and thematic illustrations, a densely packed long holiday weekend. The festival unfurled through the old city of Moers — the castle courtyard, the main parking lot and the city park — offering lots to discover and more than one way to enjoy the festivities.

To some, it might have seemed chaotic. To others, perhaps a city festival with lots of food trucks and stands to buy hippie-jewelry and dashikis. And to yet others, it was a rich, off-beat intersection of musical styles, offering unexpected encounters and discoveries. None of these categories are mutually exclusive, so one could also mix and match, being equally bewitched, bothered and bewildered.

***

Moon over the Moers Castle with Rapunzel's escape plan in view

In a cute nod to the fairy tale theme, Rapunzel's long hair hung from the castle's tower, and to its left was the entrance to the courtyard. This was where the festival had begun, 54 years ago, inside the castle walls, before it first moved into the city park and then further out to the city's recreation fields. Today, sitting in the blazing sun of the bright blue late afternoon was drummer Chris Corsano's drum kit, and if you hadn't arrived a half-hour (or more) early, there was not chance to get a shady spot.

Chris Corsano

Corsano began by blowing into a clarinet mouthpiece that vibrated a drum head. He proceeded into the half-hour set that was both rhythmic and melodic, as far as melody goes on the drums. It was a thoroughly engaging improvisation, drawing the listener in close.

Outside the castle, a mere stones throw away, across the packed market place, was the main stage, where trumpeter and composer Nate Wooley, along with the new music group Yarn/Wire (pianists Laura Barger and Julia Den Boer, and percussionists Russell Greenberg and Dustin Donahue) and vocalist Tara Khozein were set to play. Here, the erudite trumpeter was presenting a newly commissioned piece that mixed narrative with modern classical. Long, dramatic passages brought together Scottish author Nan Shepard's mystical stories to the stage and quiet interactions between the musicians provided a charged atmosphere. The two grand pianos framed the music with light, dissonant chords while Wooley's tender passages were adorned with soft whispers and audible breaths. Mostly melancholic, the piece was punctuated by intense crescendoing passages. A brainy set, for sure.

Skylar Tang and Luis Lopes

Ready for a little more free improvisation, the Moers Sessions were calling. So, back through the market and past Rapunzel's locks, to "Wo die wilden Frösche klatschen" (Translation: Where the Wild Frogs Clap) stage area, nestled in a tree-lined grove in the park. Curated by saxophonist Jan Klare, various sessions throughout the festival brought together musicians appearing elsewhere at the festival in new formations and an improvised setting. This evening began with saxophonist Mia Dyberg in dialog with pianist William Schwartzman and drummer Jonathan Schierhorn. Melodic and probing, the tentative trio locked into a groove about half-way into their set, bringing the listeners along an explorative journey. Next up was the assemblage of bassist John Murray, trumpeter Skylar Tang, drummer Sofia Borges, pianist Rieko Okuda and guitarist Luis Lopes. The group seemed split, while Lopes, Borges and Okuda seemed comfortable skirting around an identifiable tonal center, Tang sounded a bit resistant to let it go. The audience did not seem to mind, Lopes' clashing guitar and Tang's attempt at tonalism generated ample, enthusiastic applause.

***

In the Zwergengasse

The city of Moers itself is an eclectic mix of sights. At the intersection of the aforementioned lush city park and old town, featuring the city's castle (or what remains of it), there is a collection of historic churches and buildings, one of which is a picturesque 18th century neo-Renaissance "Altes Landratsamt" (which translates to the rather uninspiring: Old County Administration Building). Then, if one wanders a little further, into the Fussgaengerzone (pedestrian zone), they will pass the old city mansion, the Peschkenhaus (which we'll come back to later) and then just a bit further, the sweetly curious Zwergengasse (The delightfully translated: Dwarves Alley). The latter is a narrow, colorful alley way featuring a house dating from the 1920's adorned with charming carvings - worth a trip if you happen to already be in town.

Ches Smith

Back to the festival: Saturday's adventure begins again at the castle courtyard, this time for percussionist Ches Smith's solo set. It starts with a crash, Smith going at his drum kit full throttle. Flanked by glockenspiel and timpani drums, it was obviously just the opening salvo. The chimes soon came into focus, stark in contrast to the drumming but one could still sense more was still to come! The action then shifted towards the timpani, and playing with expanding and contracting tension, Smith pulled unusual sounds from the instruments around him. At times exploratory and other times hard hitting, the set was another early highlight of the festival.

Returning to the full courtyard after a little wander around the festival grounds to find some dinner, it was time for some high-energy music. After a quick count-off and delivering the head of the first tune, saxophonist Angelica Neiscer was deep into a scorching solo. Her counterparts, cellist Tomeka Reid and drummer Eliza Salem were in cahoots as the cellist played a vibrant bass line and the drummer provided a propulsive tempo. It was a classic piano-less jazz trio, energetic, and though not free-jazz per-se, there was generous freedom within the charts. Case in point: Reid's freak-out solo during the second piece that threw anything written into the metaphorical wind (a little real wind would have been nice, it was hot!).

Bonbon Flamme

An exquisite chaos was already underway on the main stage as Bonbon Flamme's mash-up of cabaret, half-remembered melodies from a black-out night, old-time jazz riffs and skronk guitar filled the air. The audience was enrapt as Cellist Valentin Ceccaldi, keyboardist Fulco Ottervanger, drummer Etienne Ziemniak and guitarist Luis Lopes achieved a new level of musical abandon. As a French chanson segued into prog rock via a wheezy pipe-organ, the cello played a bass-line that triggered an explosive solo from Lopes. As they played, the keyboardist could be seen leaping acrobatically between his many instruments and all of the action on stage was being projected to a giant iPhone screen hanging from a crane to the back left of the audience area. It was a colossal structure with a mix of live and pre-recorded videos playing throughout the performances.

Evi Fillipou's "inEvitable"

Every year at the festival there is an artist-in-residence and this year it was vibraphonist Evi Fillipou, who for the festival assembled an extended version of her ongoing "inEvitable" project. In addition to the ineffable Fillipou on vibes, percussion and singing, this was singer Zuza Jasinska, guitarists Keisuke Matsuno and Arne Braun, bassist Robert Lucaciu, drummers Marius Wankel and Jim Hart, and saxophonist Daniel Glatzel. They kicked off the set with a strikingly rhythmic piece, accentuated with rave-up vocals and crashing waves of percussion, perhaps better said, they projected a party vibe. Drawing from a panapoly of musical styles, the music shifted from lithe scatting in Greek to smokey vocal jazz to heavy rock grooves. In addition to the prominent percussion, Matsuno and Braun's guitar work brought a wide sonic palette to the stage, painting a soundscape with distorted smears and blistering jabs. High octane, tight and effervescent, it was a show surely worthy of the artist-in-residence title.

***

In the city park are a thousand baby bunnies. Every 20 minute walk from the hotel to the festival grounds along the creek and fields was a stroll through a menagerie of cuteness accompanied by a symphony of frogs, kind of a fairy-tale ready experience itself.

Evi Fillipou, Tomeka Reid, Luis Lopes, Angelia Niescier. Photo by Dennis Hoeren

Mid-morning Sunday in the castle courtyard, the next Moers Session was starting - this time, three sets. The first grouping was Evi Fillipou fresh off the previous night's success, along with Angelika Niescier, Luis Lopes and Tomeka Reid. Niescier started things off with a free-jazz blast from her saxophone, which was followed by some hovering tones from Fillipous' vibraphone. Angular jabs from Lopes' guitar and low-register strikes from Reid's cello responded in kind. It was a strong 25-minute warm up, and though short, it was unrushed, unfolding with collective purpose. The next grouping was comprised of Jonathan Schierhorn on drums, Sophie Cooper on trombone, Bella Comsom on electronics and Hyunjeong Park on gayageum. Their set began with a gentle thrum of electronics supporting the deep, round tones of the gayageum, a Korean zither. Then, following the entry of the drums and trombone, the group gelled expressively. The final set featured session organizer Jan Klare on sax, Fulco Ottervanger on keyboards, Florence Christman on electronics and Bruna Cabral on drums. Klare set the direction: a series of syncopated lines augmented by Cabral's percussion. Then came an underlying buzz from the electronics while a dark organ sound welled from the keyboards. The set soon took gathered momentum as the sax, drums and keys locked into a flowing, effusive groove. Extroverted Ottervanger injected some gentle humor into the set, dueting with Klare on a harmonium at one point and adding a sci-fi synthesizer interlude.

The morning stretched out into the afternoon, lunches were eaten, music absorbed, and acquaintances old and new encountered. Then, under the late afternoon sun, the Dwarves of East Aguza took the main stage. The crowd was slowly filtering in as they began a steady brooding groove. Guitarist Sam Shalabi played a mix of rhythm and brittle, agitated melodic phrases. A beguiling mix of primitivism and middle eastern flair, it locked in with Maurice Louca's electronic pulsations perfectly. At this point, Alan Bishop's guitar merged sonically with the electronics. He soon switched to saxophone and over the mutating oscillations, he smeared notes and phrases across the musical canvas. Through the mix of exotic rhythms and droning tones, the music flowed hypnotically.

Between the Dwarves and the next set, a volunteer 'moersfriends' tried asking for donations from the main stage, however his pitch was drowned out by a relentless noise. Throughout the festival, from the sound system surrounding the stage, recordings of different Trump speeches played simultaneously. It was the Bösewicht (German for villain) that the hero of every fairly tale encounters. All part and parcel of the theme, it was a clever but rather disturbing reminder of the raging real world. As the break continued, paper crowns decorated by local school children were handed out to the audience so everyone could be king (or queen) for one day.

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth SWAY

Nicole Mitchell’s Black Earth SWAY offered a diversion. The group with Mitchell on flute and vocals, Coco Elysses on didley bow and vocals, JoVia Armstrong on percussion and vocals, and Zahili Gonzalez Zamora on keys (everyone also had a touch of electronics) had been formed around the concept of Afro-Folk-Futurism and their first song strove to build a confessional intimacy with the audience. Spoken words about neurodivergence were augmented by thrilling flute work and driving percussion. The group's second song already offered a sing-along part, bringing the crowd and band even closer together.

As the late afternoon slid slowly into dusk, it was almost time for the "Secret Concert". Migrating through the city park, past the frolicking baby bunnies and croaking frogs, early ticket buyers and other Moers friends made their way to the event hall in the recreation area, where the previous year's main concerts had been staged. There, a group conceived by Nate Wooley with percussionists Chris Corsano and Ches Smith as an 'anything goes' improvising trio, were set to perform.

Ches Smith, Nate Wooley, Chris Corsano. Photo by Dennis Hoeren

Wooley was welcomed to the stage by the crowd singing a happy birthday tune, but was eager go get into the set. His opening electronic tones set an atmospheric buzz. The two drummers then added an extra charge of energy. Smith soon activated his own electronics, bringing the opening fanfare to an early peak. A new tune began to then emerge, a gentle, folksy melody from the trumpet supported by percussion from Corsano. As the intensity increased, Wooley used his trumpet to create the sounds of gale winds as Corsano added the wail of whales though his own inventive, acoustic means. It was an expressive and impressive set, a real aural treat.

Gellért Szabó's Ideal Orchestra

On the trip back to the main festival grounds, the sun had set, and as a stillness covered the lush park, the frogs were in full song. At the main stage, the evening was wrapping up with Gellért Szabó's Ideal Orchestra, a large ensemble out of Leipzig who were performing the final installment of a piece developed as a three part fairy-tale (the other parts had been performed on the previous days). Combining improvisation, jazz, classical, a choir, and the multimedia of the giant iPhone screen, the sonically dramatic final installment brought contrasting passages of calm and turbulence with an intentional and slightly tongue-in-cheek holiness to the stage. An informal survey revealed it to be an unexpected highlight for many of the concert goers.

As the evening bled into the night, throughout the festival grounds and nearby churches, a tribute to 20th-century avant-garde composer Morton Feldman was just starting up. Stretching into the late evening hours, the festival commemorated the composer's 100th birthday with several performances of his well-known works, such as "Rothko Chapel" and "Melancholie des Verschwindens." A gentle coda to the day.

***

The final day of the festival began with a crushing line at the Peschkenhaus. A hot sun made the line to get in and the performance space a stifling experience. Why the wait? In the attic room of the stately 18th century manor, now a meeting space and art gallery, guitarist/oudist Gordon Grdina was set to perform with drummer Christian Lillinger and keyboardist Elias Stemeseder.

Christian Lillinger, Gordon Grdina, Elias Stemeseder

Grdina began the show on a well work electro-acoustic guitar along with taps and thwaks from Lillinger, and blips and bloops from Stemeseder. This was merely an intro to a very rhythmic improvisation that snow-balled as the textural guitar work and burbling synthesizer, pushed along by the precise percussive jabs, found their footing. For a heart-pounding ten minutes, the group pressed at full speed until a break in the tension, during which Grdina switched to the oud. The large stringed instrument projected a thumping bass sound, setting the group off in a fresh new direction. The set ended with Lillinger and Stemeseder both navigating the deep space of electronics.

Sam Shalabi

A compelling solo guitar set from Sam Shalabi followed. Exploring the instrument through arpeggiated, microtonal blocks of sound and lite distortion, the Dwarves of East Aguza guitarist conjured images of specious desert landscapes with wisps of dry wind blowing swirls of sand. The notes themselves seemed less important than the mood they set.

Drifting out into the heat of the early afternoon, the shady Wo die wilden Frösche klatschen stage was the next destination to catch the end of percussionist/composer Bex Burch's set. Angelika Niescier was wrapping up another fiery solo as the group segued into a gentle, unfolding piece with the band acting mainly as a choir. Long minimal interludes led to moments of feverish saxophone and, for a brief moment, it felt good to let a little time slip by in the afternoon humidity.

Knobil

Swiss bassist and singer Knobil was another fine discovery of the festival. A mix of singer-songwriter and a swinging free improvisation, Louise Knobil, along with the engrossing bass clarinet work of Chloé Marsigny and drumming of Vincent Andreae, played a compelling set on the main stage. Between sweet banter and wonderfully syncopated melodic songs, Knobil was a welcome late afternoon refresher.

Gordon Grdina's RU'YA

In the early evening, Gordon Grdina's RU'YA, his headlining project, took the stage. With Grdina on guitar and oud, the group featured vocalist Ghalia Benali, violinist Eylem Basaldi, keyboardist Elias Stemeseder, percussionist Hamin Honari and drummer Christian Lillinger. The group's project had begun as a commission for Berlin's Boulez Saal, a center for contemporary classical and Middle Eastern music, and seems to have taken on a life of its own. A mix of passionate, evocative music, the lyrics in Arabic expressed messages of family, loss, hope and peace against a backdrop of Arabic and Western instrumentation. The insistence of Lillinger's drumming, the deep vibrations of Grdina's oud and the intense rhythmic playing from Honari, along with the vibrant violin and keyboards made for lively, urgent music. An exciting and engaging show.

As the closing act for the festival, saxophonist Lakecia Benjamin brought a spirited energy that fit well into the overall eclectic-ness of the program. Her act, with a strong mix of showmanship and musicianship, can and did transcend audiences.

Lakecia Benjamin

Decked out in a stylish, shiny outfit, fully in command of the stage and audience, and backed by the top-notch playing of pianist Oscar Perez, bassist Elias Bailey and drummer Dorian Phelps, her approach is one that can both satisfy many of the jazz-purists and engage far more of the jazz-curious. One could complain, for example, that her take on John Coltrane's 'My Favorite Things' hit the high-notes too soon, but then again, it also sounded great - festival audience approved - and she even threw the deep listeners a bone by quoting 'Giant Steps' at a breakneck tempo. Perez's piano work complimented the saxophonist's energy as he led the group with a spiritual tune before they ended with some high-energy funk.

***

And just like that, the festival dissolved into the night: a long week end of music, more than 2,000 tickets sold, and some estimated 20,000 curious souls wandering through the free concerts and market place, taking in whatever caught their eyes and ears. And they all lived happily ever after ....

Jorge Nuno - Memórias em chamas

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sun, 07 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

An austere visual for a delicate exploration - Portuguese guitarist Jorge Nuno's second solo recording A ilha Revisitado is out now on Thödol Records. In this video by Mariana Felix, a seemingly abandoned structure is contrasted against a yellowed sky at dusk. Nuno's slashing playing, atonal and rhythmic, form the songs jagged structures.

Aaron Wyanski – Schoenberg in Hi Fo Pierrot Lunaire Op. 21 (Speculative Records, 2026)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Sat, 06 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sammy Stein

Aaron Wyanski is a man on a mission. He is a pianist, composer, and musicologist. Wyanski has been a featured composer at festivals and major events and has held a deep fascination with the atonality and compositional style of Arnold Schoenberg since he was young. This recording Schoenberg: Pierrot Lunaire, OP.21, sees Wyanski continue his ongoing exploration and homage to Schoenberg via the medium of jazz, Schoenberg in Hi-Fi. You have to be free-thinking to understand what Wyanski is intending with his Schoenberg in Hi-Fi series, of which this recording is another step. Wyanski coined the title “speculative musicologist” to describe the project, which is a series of albums and performances that explore a speculative reality in which Schoenberg’s music was intentionally marketed as lounge/exotica as part of the late 1950s LP boom in mid-century America. Wyanski takes Schoenberg and rearranges it, dropping in a large portion of jazz and enhancing the atonal concepts – hiding sweet inventions to be found and making Schoenberg accessible to an even wider listening audience. It might not seem to fit a free jazz take – until you hear it. Then, it makes sense. I was lucky enough to see Wyanski’s work performed in one of London’s major free jazz venues – Café Oto, and the audience there loved it.

On this recording, Wyanski radically rearranges Arnold Schoenberg’s atonal masterpiece, Pierrot Lunaire OP.21 with vocals performed with glorious decadence by soprano Anna Elder. In the alternate reality where Schoenberg is marketed to mass Mid-century audiences, it would coincide with the rise of high-fidelity audio. Many albums were being sold by boasting “you’ve never heard sounds like this before.” In Wyanski’s universe, that means freedom, and the sounds might come from a real or imagined faraway place. Or the sounds of outer space. Or an eclectic orchestration. Or an experimental approach to the new possibilities afforded by stereo sound. Or all of these.

An interesting feature of Schoenberg in Hi-Fi as a whole is that, aside from percussion, nothing is added or removed from Schoenberg’s work. As a result, while the transformations can sound radical, Schoenberg in Hi-Fi becomes a new lens to experience what is already in Schoenberg’s scores. Wyanski calls this practice speculative musicology.

On how he and Elder came to collaborate, Wyanski comments, “Anna and I met while both participating in the summer festival New Music on the Point and got to know each other better while we were both living in Pittsburgh a few years later. After my first Schoenberg in Hi-Fi release, she wrote me a very kind email and said that it reminded her of Yma Sumac, whom she used to make and perform transcriptions of, so she really got the whole exotica angle. She also mentioned that she was getting ready to perform Pierrot later that season. Seeing this opening as the once-in-a-lifetime possibility that it was, my response was, "Hey, want to make a Pierrotalbum with me?" and I consider myself extremely lucky that she agreed. I couldn't have asked for a better collaborator. There is a wide range of performance practices for the vocals in Pierrot, but the fierce accuracy of her approach I find especially well-suited for Schoenberg in Hi-Fi."

Wyanski has struck gold with Elder. Her vocals are rangy, and she also has an ability to not only be note-perfect but also to infuse a laid-back sense of decadence and humour into her singing.

There are twenty-one tracks on this recording, and they seem to fly past, as Schoenberg is given the interpretation he possibly deserved. Elder introduces elements such as a wonderful swinging sassiness on ‘Madonna’ while the essence of Schonenberg looms large on ‘Mondestrunken’ and Der Kranke Mond,’ albeit with a slight touch of Austin Powers sixties tones in the latter. The ears occasionally find themselves most definitely pricked as Schoenberg’s delectation for atonality and dissonance is explored.

A delightful confluence of classical music, jazz and, well, something completely different, this music is an exploration not just of Schoenberg’s style and workings but also a development of several areas where dissonance becomes almost harmonic. In every chord, it can be argued, all the notes are present, and dissonance is created when you rearrange and reorganize them, something that Schoenberg and his ilk took delight in and then unleashed on unsuspecting audiences – sometimes to their liking.

It is similar here, and the listener is drawn in if they are curious enough, or brave enough, to venture beyond the expectations of expected resolutions to sequences, progressions, or musical cadences, whether perfect, interrupted, or imperfect. What is most intriguing about the music is not its sixties tones, or slightly irksome embellishments, but its hidden notes, the sudden drops and changes, or the beautiful, crazy vocal lines.

When I reviewed Wyanski before, I said that free jazz appreciators will understand. This music makes complete sense. It still does, and Schoenberg still has a lot to show us.

Schoenberg: Pierrot Lunaire, Op. 21 by Aaron Wyanski and Anna Elder

Thomas Morgan - Around You Is A Forest (Loveland, 2025)

noreply@blogger.com (Paul Acquaro) — Fri, 05 Jun 2026 04:00:00 +0000

By Sarah "Flake" Grosser

Thomas Morgan is an enigma. An anomaly in a scene dominated by popularity contests and loud, explosive personalities, fierce networking, and hustling at the after-show hang. And while it’s not atypical for upright bassists to tend towards introversion, Thomas’s default setting seems to be permanently locked into the same mode: ultra calm. It’s impossible to decipher the thought process behind his perfect technique and razor-sharp focus. Whether he is executing a series of miraculous double stops, or a simple, understated, beautiful melody; to watch or hear Thomas play is to witness his magic. It’s no surprise then that his work reflects his demeanour: softly spoken, calculated, deliberate, and above all, original.

For his 2025 debut release on Jakob Bro’s Loveland label, Thomas has mostly placed his bass to the side, in favour of an algorithmic instrument he invented, called WOODS; an acronym for “WOODS Often Oscillates Droning Strings”. With the timbre reminiscent of a muted plucked guqin or similar stringed instrument from the east, WOODS is deceptively acoustic-sounding. In the first song “Around You Is A Forest,” (a reference to the 1976 text-based computer game “Adventure”), Thomas duets with himself on both upright bass and WOODS. The rapid plucks spring in random rhythmic patterns from speaker to speaker, like rain pitter-pattering gently against a glass window.

The rest of the album is a series of duets with an exhaustive cast of brilliant jazz musicians, all male (unfortunately), but undeniably diverse and talented. These duets feature Thomas only on WOODS and are seemingly improvised works ranging in length from around five to sixteen minutes.

“Eddies” sees drummer Dan Weiss on the tabla in a lively groove while the WOODS explores rhythmic arpeggios and shifting melodies. It’s a stark contrast to “Dream Sequence” which begins with pianist Craig Taborn on a synth reminiscent of a forgotten horror film. It gradually morphs into a dreamy wafting soundscape complete with watery samples, bird tweets, and warm lush string pads. All while the WOODS continues to rapidly, subtly flitter around their strange, imaginary world.

“Through the Trees” continues our sonic forest adventure with Gerald Cleaver on a drumkit recorded with a distinctly characteristic mid-hall echo. Meanwhile, “In the Dark” brings us back to a nostalgic uneasiness with layers of atonal warbling flute from Henry Threadgill. “Assembly of All Beings” features layers of Ambrose Akinmusire on the trumpet dueting with WOODS and himself, in a series of long squeals and sustained notes used to create chords. This layering is also apparent via Bill Frisell’s contemplative, earnest acoustic guitar, topped with pepperings of electric and the slightest distorted fuzz on “Rising From The West.” Bright, soaring tones from Immanuel Wilkin’s saxophone are layered with peeps and toots in “Murmuration.” The addition of Gary Snyder's spoken-word poetry on "Here" brings the album to a warm and satisfying conclusion.

From start to finish, it’s hard to tell exactly what Thomas is actually doing, or indeed, what WOODS really is. Repeated listenings only raise even more questions. But this is all part of the mystery that is Thomas Morgan - there’s so much more to this forest than just the trees.

(Many of those questions are actually answered HERE, via the Transitional Technology Substack, in a guest essay penned by Thomas himself. In this great feature he shares his childhood experiences with music, programming, and how these early influences shaped the creation of WOODS, and this debut record.)

Around You Is A Forest by Thomas Morgan