Live review
George Lewis, Nicole Mitchell, and Douglas Ewart convened to discuss the AACM and its history, and to play a brief concert. While the backdrop of George Lewis' imminent book release loomed large (and in fact loomed in the lobby, as the University of Chicago Press arrived to hock them post show), it wasn't the explicit topic or focus of the discussion.
The panel was lightly moderated by a student from the Art Institute of Chicago, who worked to put the event together under the auspices of their Masters of Arts in Arts Administration and Policy program. As a result, the ostensible topic was the organizational aspects of the AACM, although the conversation didn't follow very specific topics. Having recently finished George Lewis' book, there wasn't anything particularly revelatory in the panel, although there were several good laughs and moments of clarity from each panel member.
The panel lasted about an hour, and it was followed by a trio performance of about a half an hour. Nicole Mitchell brought the two extreme ends of her flute arsenal, her piccolo and her bass flute, Douglas Ewart played bass clarinet, didgeridoo, and piccolo, and George Lewis played trombone and laptop.
It struck me while listening to George Lewis process both his own instrument and the outputs of the other two musicians on stage that what he is not content with just creating the musical input, he also wants to create the room and acoustic space the music happens in. That is to say that when we play acoustic instruments, the walls and room provide basic acoustic treatments of reverb and space. George Lewis has the ability to augment those basic properties, but also take the acoustic space any other number of places.
It was basically one long improvisation, and to show that the AACM has still got it, there were a number of people who got up and left during the proceedings. Going on 45 years later, they still make many people visibly uncomfortable with their musical explorations.
A very nice event put on at the Cultural Center here in Chicago. I encourage any New Yorkers to check out the New York event happening May 9th that also features a great panel and a fantastic trio.
DiggYesterday was a great day of music here in Chicago, starting out at the Hyde Park Arts Center where I led a panel discussion about the realities of local musician run record labels. The panelists included Asian Improv Records co-founder Francis Wong (the other co-founder, Jon Jang didn't come out to Chicago for the festival this year), Tatsu Aoki, and co-owner/proprietors of Southport records, Bradley Parker-Sparrow and Joannie Palatto. There was a great crowd of around 75-100 people there, and it took place in a gallery enveloping us in visual art.
After talking about the history of their labels and how they came to be and interact, some interesting points came up in the ensuing conversation. One point made by Francis Wong was that they are not in the record business in the same way Columbia or Blue Note is. This might seem obvious, but his assertion tied into a recurring theme in the conversation, which was that these labels existed more to give these artists a voice than to make a lot of money. That point was hammered home by Tatsu Aoki, when asked about the role of the internet and technology in the label business, he noted that before they peddled records on the internet he sold about 10 copies a year of his solo bass album. Now that his records are all on the internet, he still sells about 10 copies a year.
Once we were done with our yapping, the first music of the day began. Billed as the Jeff Chan Trio Plus One Plus Two, it ended up being a reeds quintet featuring Jimmy Ellis on alto, Ed Wilkerson on tenor and clarinet, Jeff Chan on tenor and bass clarinet, Francis Wong on tenor and flute, and Lewis Jordan on alto and poetics.
Obvious comparisons to the WSQ aside, this was a great lineup that really took the music to a variety of interesting places. There were some very interesting compositions by Jeff Chan that added some structure while maintaining an improvisatory edge, and each member was featured at one point or another in the proceedings. One highlight was a solo montage by Jimmy Ellis who said he was going to paint a picture for the audience of a Sunday in his neighborhood growing up, where everyone would go to church in the morning and then the community would gather to spin jazz records in the afternoon, a trip to a different kind of church. Starting out slow with the sunrise and working through the church service, complete with a Come Sunday quote, once he got to the jazz portion he quoted a variety of standards in a fluid, unforced manner.
The evening festivities brought a reprise of a quartet that first got together last year for the Asian American Jazz Festival, playing two nights last year but only one this year. With Fred Anderson and Francis Wong on tenors, Tatsu Aoki on bass, and Chad Taylor in from New York on drums, I was anticipating the show since last year's music proved to be incendiary. While this year's set might not have reached the otherworldly highs that I recall from last year, it was still a superlative evening of music.
Tatsu Aoki and Chad Taylor are an incredible rhythm section, prone to locking into trance-like yet surprisingly malleable grooves that had many heads in the audience bobbing to the beat. There was one groove in the second set that any hip hop artist would have been proud to sample. It should be noted that Tatsu played incredibly well in spite of the fact that he has badly injured his back and had a full torso body cast on underneath his shirt, causing him considerable discomfort. Here's hoping he heals quickly and fully. Francis Wong and Fred Anderson both did their part, but there wasn't as much meshing of their musical sensibilities as I remember last year.
All in all, a fantastic day of music from all involved. I'm already looking forward to next year's fest.
I was back in Millennium Park a mere twelve hours later to take in local alt-country-rock-call-em-what-you-will heroes, Wilco.
It was certainly a different crowd, and the contrasts were particularly interesting since I took the show in from almost the exact same spot on the lawn.
I can't claim intimate knowledge of Wilco's music, but my peripheral listening has endeared me to their sound even if it hasn't made me a huge fan. I'd always heard rave reviews of their live shows though, and with the recent addition of Nels Cline to their lineup and the chance to see them at the idyllic Pritzker Pavilion in Millennium Park I snagged some lawn tickets and hit up the show.
I've been to many rock shows in the past but I hadn't attended a big one in years. It was interesting to note how much I love the sound of a cranked electric guitar and the ease with which I slipped into my bent knee, headbobbing, rock show stance.
One immediate contrast that stood out to me in seeing Wilco was the way they pace their set. They started out on a decidedly mellow note and built up the energy over the course of the whole show. If seeing Wilco live was cooking a meal, it would be like making a big pot of stew or sauce; starting off with a few ingredients, simmering, sauteing, adding spices, and eventually bringing the whole thing up to a boil, the sum of its parts creating a greater whole.
I'm more accustomed to rock shows that are more akin to cooking lobster: you start off with a pot of boiling water, throw in live creatures that squirm and submit, leading to a decadent feast of meat dipped in butter. A meal that requires a bib.
Even if Wilco doesn't require a bib, and probably goes better with a bottle of wine than with a shot of whiskey, they put on a great show.
Taking the cooking analogy one step too far, my biggest beef with the show was that Nels wasn't given enough room to stretch out. Just when he was giving me something meaty to sink my teeth into, we were swept back into the song without a proper rock and roll peak or enough space for Nels to really say something more developed musically.
As an aside: what's up with people and their cell phone cameras these days? It seems like people are more concerned with proving that they were at a show than actually enjoying the music. In addition, people who spend an entire musical event talking test the limits of my sanity and understanding.
They played a long set and then came out for two extended encores, the second one longer than the first. I apologize for any Wilco fans reading this (I wonder how much overlap there is in my usual reading audience) that I'm not more familiar with song titles, but I know they played a wide variety of music from their catalog, and that Jeff Tweedy said the songs were all requested by fans through their website. I'll try and dredge up a setlist from the depths of the internet later.
The show was a benefit for the Chicago Coalition for the Homeless. Kudos to Wilco for putting on a great show for a great cause.
EDIT: Setlist found!
Wilco
9/12/2007
Millennium Park
You Are My Face
I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
Pot Kettle Black
War on War
Handshake Drugs
Side With The Seeds
A Shot in the Arm
Impossible Germany
Via Chicago
Jesus, etc.
Too Far Apart
Walken
I'm The Man Who Loves You
Hummingbird
On and On and On
Encore 1:
Misunderstood
Cars Can't Escape>
Spiders (Kidsmoke)
Encore 2:
Hate It Here
Box Full of Letters
California Stars
Heavy Metal Drummer
Red-Eyed and Blue>
I Got You (At The End of the Century)
Casino Queen
Outtasite (Outtamind)
Dee Alexander had tried to put on this concert once before.
On August 23rd a storm rolled through Chicago that flooded streets, split trees, and smashed cars. There were reports of funnel clouds, and the sky was electric with lightning. Dee made it through two tunes in front of an incredibly brave crowd of about 50-100 people before the venue pulled the plug on the show. It's future was uncertain since the shows are presented rain or shine, but word came that the park wanted to do the show again, and it was rescheduled for September 11th.
Take two was a much more successful event. Clear skies on a beautiful fall night, and the one and only Ms. Dee Alexander paying tribute to two incredible musicians: Dinah Washington and Nina Simone.
There isn't a singer in the world I'd rather hear do a tribute to Dinah and Nina. I had no doubt that Dee's expressive range would easily span the careers of these two women with ease and grace, and I was not disappointed.
Joined by a band that in addition to the rhythm section included a three piece horn section, a string section, and then to top it off, Walt Whitman & The Soul Children of Chicago gospel choir came out for a show stopping finale.
When Dee sang "What A Difference A Day Makes," it worked on many levels: one day rain, the next day shine; many lives were taken, touched, and changed, and our national paradigm shifted in the 24 hours between September 10th, 2001 and the 11th. Dee announced at the top of the show that she would be celebrating the lives of those people that perished on Sept 11th, and she certainly did.
Some personal highlights included This Bitter Earth, Mississippi Goddamn, I Put A Spell On You, and Young Gifted And Black with the gospel choir. There was great playing throughout, although one standout solo came from perennially underrated local saxophonist James Perkins.
It was a great end to the series in Millennium Park this year. Every time I see Dee I'm astounded that the hasn't broke on a national level, and it's still a head scratcher for me. She has incredible talent, charisma, and presence, and mixes innovative vocal techniques with an accessible traditional understanding of vocal jazz and blues. I still believe it's only a matter of time before she busts out nationally; in the mean time I guess we'll just keep her for ourselves here in Chicago.
Nicole Mitchell convened an expanded version of her Black Earth Ensemble, for this occasion called the Black Earth Orchestra, last night at Millennium Park for a tribute to the late great Alice Coltrane. Featuring a stellar lineup of local musicians, she also brought in Myra Melford on piano and harmonium, Matana Roberts on alto sax, and Maia on harp. The instrumentation of the local musicians included two violinists, two flutes in addition to Ms. Mitchell's, trumpet, tenor sax, bass and cello, a vocalist, a drummer and a percussionist.
Nicole named the concert Many Paths to the Sea, and all of the music was brand new compositions for this one time show. It wasn't a tribute where the artist's music is played repertory style; instead, Nicole drew from the inspiration of Alice Coltrane and also from some of the same areas that inspired Mrs. Coltrane, such as her spiritual practices.
In front of a large crowd at the park (I'd estimate somewhere in the realm of 5,000 in attendance), the band opened up with what I'd call a structured free improvisation. There was definitely free improvising going on, but I could see Nicole leading and there was a sense of arc, entrances and exits by various instruments, and it ended in a very clear manner.
A bunch of people got up and left during this portion. A mini-exodus. Amongst the things I heard uttered:
"Are they just warming up or is this supposed to be music?"
"You've got to be kidding me, this isn't serious music."
"They should be ashamed of themselves for playing like that in front of people."
It should be made clear that lots of tourists come to these Millennium Park shows completely unaware of what they're getting themselves into. I oftentimes wonder what they imagine when they hear about a "jazz concert": did they think Benny Goodman would be there to move them with swing? Were they expecting Bill Evans to caress them with his melodic lyricism? Maybe they were expecting Charlie Parker to rise from the dead and delight them with his bebop virtuosity?
It's a shame that some people have such a low tolerance for risk, and such small reserves of patience in their music listening habits. If they stuck around they would have heard a little bit of something for everyone.
In any case, people left, but many, many more remained.
From there Nicole unleashed a tour de force of music, combining complex composed arrangements with incredible playing from all the members of the band. Myra Melford did some time on harmonium, fitting in a tribute to Alice Coltrane. If I had to identify an element of the music that drew from the well of Mrs. Coltrane's sound it would be the groove and sense of trance and drone. There were some heavy grooves laid down by bassist Josh Abrams and cellist Tomeka Reid, with Marcus Evans on drums and Avreeayl Ra on percussion embellishing and aiding the groove.
There were pieces that featured the two violins and three flutes featured that displayed Nicole's classical influences, and I think it was great for her to have flutes to write for. She so often sounds like more than one flute on her own, so I think it allowed her to flesh out her ideas of the possibilities for the instrument.
Some personal highlights included a fantastic piano solo by Myra Melford about halfway into the show, and some intense sax solos from David Boykin and Matana Roberts, who complimented each other so well in style and presence.
All said and done it was an hour and a half straight of music from the Black Earth Orchestra. I don't know if Nicole has considered doing so, but if she hasn't I'll be the first to say that she should listen to the tapes and release this live recording if it holds up to repeated listens (which I think it will).
Next week in Millennium Park we have Muhal Richard Abrams playing a solo set, opposite ragtime wiz Reginald Robinson playing a set. Should be an interesting juxtaposition.
Until next time....
Last night at Ganz Hall, a quintet of fine musicians led by Bill Dixon played what was billed as Mr. Dixon's first appearance in our fine city. In some after show remarks, he clarified that it was his first "official musical" appearance, hinting that he might have played here earlier in a different context but offering no details as to when and in what circumstances that might have been.
The venue was a nice hall that seated about 200 people. I'd say it was around 2/3 full, a great crowd, and very diverse in age range. I was glad to see the turn out: many more people in the audience than on the stage.
Speaking of the stage, the lineup: Bill Dixon, trumpet, Ken Vandermark, bass clarinet and baritone sax, Nate McBride and Josh Abrams, bass, and Michael Zerang drums.
My pre-concert impressions of the lineup were a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.
I was skeptical because I had no idea how the lineup was put together: by the promoter, by Mr. Dixon, or some combination of both. I had no sense of why these particular musicians in this particular lineup were chosen for the event. Also, I had some reservations about Mr. Vandermark's participation if only because I saw his personal aesthetic as radically different from what I knew about Mr. Dixon's approach to music.
I was intrigued because I knew all of the musicians are capable of sensitive accompaniment, engrossing improvisations, and dizzying musical heights. Not to resort to hyperbole....
Anyway, the show began with Michael Zerang on stage scratching his snare drum with a stick with little fingers on it - it kind of looks like a back scratcher. He uses it to bring really interesting tones out of his drum, and he played the whole drum, plucking the snare underneath with his hand as he drew these tones out of his set.
After a brief solo by Mr. Zerang, the two bassists joined him on stage and played their own duo improvisation with Mr. Zerang watching along. Similar to Mr. Zerang's improvisation, there was en exploration of sound as much as pitch, a recurring theme throughout the concert. Their duo was brief as well, an invocation or warm up, and then Ken Vandermark walked on stage.
My apprehensions about Ken's place in the group was mostly due to his tendency for musical bombast in comparison with Dixon's restrained intensity. Vandermark is more likely to open the floodgates while Mr. Dixon opens holes in the dam. He did his solo improvisation on the bass clarinet, combining sputters and breathy textures with long tones and bends.
Soon, Ken ended his opening solo, and while his applause began Bill Dixon walked on stage, and the applause grew to welcome him.
Bill had four microphones set up, and to the best of my knowledge and attention he only used 3 of them. One had a heavy delay, and the other two had subtly different reverbs.
He began his solo utilizing his delay microphone. I really enjoyed his use of delay, and you can immediately tell that it's not merely an effect that is used as an enhancer, utilizing it as a musical device that he interacts with in order to produce the sound he has in mind. His solo delay trumpet excursions came across as some kind of avant-space-dub-trumpet otherworldly journey, at times going places that were dark and nightmarish, and other times floating in a more ethereal airy realm. To be perfectly honest, I could have listened to him play solo for the entire set and I would have gone home happy.
Of course that was not to be since there were four other musicians standing on stage. They soon joined in and it was clear that they all had a reverent attitude towards Bill deferring to him musically in terms of the direction and aesthetic of the music. There were times when I felt there was maybe a bit too much restraint, but their close attention to Mr. Dixon's playing allowed the music to unfold very patiently and clearly. They were all free improvisations as far as I could tell, and I'd be interested to know what, if any, discussions were had between Bill and the musicians about their approach to the music for the evening.
To the best of my recollection there were two long improvisations (might have been three...they all blended together in my mind), both of them defying any compelling verbal descriptions on my part. The music went by extremely quickly, totaling over an hour from beginning to end when all was said and done.
I enjoyed the concert thoroughly, even if I was not particularly moved or stirred by the sounds coming off the stage. I make this distinction only because the music that I often see in Chicago is in the more ecstatic vain, which doesn't necessarily make it better, just different. It certainly made me want to delve into Mr. Dixon's catalog to hear his development as a musician and trumpeter. I can definitely see why he is such an influential and revolutionary figure, and also why some people might hold strong opinions about his musical aesthetic, both good and bad.
My patented out of focus pictures from the show will be available soon.
Coming up: I've got a bunch of recordings that I'm going to be writing about in the coming days and weeks, and I also have a longer, more philosophical post brewing. Stay tuned....
I went back for a second dose of Vision action on Sunday, the 24th. Unfortunately, apparently Vision Festival starts too early for me because again I missed the first act, the T.E.C.K. string quartet, which is a shame because it would have been nice for some timbral variety to hear a string group at the festival.
I arrived as Hamid Drake was setting up with his group NOW, featuring Sabir Mateen on reeds, Paolo Angeli in from Italy on prepared guitar, and Patricia Nicholson on dance. I was quite excited about this one as I have really enjoyed the Drake/Angeli duo album Uotha, and although I haven't seen Sabir Mateen live on many occasions, I enjoy his playing when I have heard him on the past.
The set started out with Drake on frame drum and Mateen on clarinet, with Angeli playing his incredible guitar. If you aren't familiar with Mr. Angeli, his sardinian prepared guitar is quite a creation. Culled from a CD description of his:
"Sardinian guitar, which is sized between a conventional guitar and a double bass, and is tuned lower than a standard guitar. Paolo Angeli has taken this folk instrument and has completely re-tooled it: There is a large mechanical claw stuck onto the side of the body of the instrument, which he uses to pluck counter melodies, piano-like hammers, operated by foot pedals strike the strings and lastly, many extra strings as well as 13 pickups and microphones have been added to further extend the variety of what his instrument can do."
Go to his website and check out some pictures, it's quite an impressive creation.
Anyway, back to the set: my brief synopsis is that it simmered but never boiled over. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, as the ecstatic jazz set can sometimes tend towards predictable peaks, but it was a bit surprising given some of the band members tendencies towards that style of incendiary playing. Both Drake and Mateen were incredibly restrained, and there were some really fascinating textures that came out of the combination of reeds and Angeli's guitar. He really makes some un-guitaristic sounds, and utilizes some pedals in addition to his unique instrument. To be perfectly honest, I prefer the more aggressive playing from the Drake/ANgeli duo on Uotha to what I heard in concert, but it was still an enjoyable set.
Next up was the Thomas Buckner Trio with Thomas Buckner on vocals, Jerome Bourdellon on flute, and Roscoe Mitchell on his usual arsenal of reeds. I was not familiar with Buckner so I didn't know what to expect, but what we got was a mostly quiet (sometimes at a whisper level) deep listening set that I had a hard time sinking my teeth into. Personally, I would rather listen to music like this on headphones where some of the sonic subtleties can pop out a bit more, and the concert setting combined with my own mental fatigue at this point of the weekend didn't let me really focus the way I would have liked on the music. Similar to the previous set, it was interesting seeing someone like Roscoe Mitchell play with such restraint, since I'm so used to seeing him unleash torrents of musical ideas. It was akin to beholding the grandeur of the Hoover Dam while wondering how it manages to hold back all that water without springing a leak. Only a few leaks sprung out from Roscoe during the set, but otherwise he showed his deep discipline and commitment to the group aesthetic.
The third act of my musical evening was the Daniel Levin Quartet, with Mr. Levin on cello, Nate Wooley on trumpet, Joe Morris on bass and Matt Moran on vibes. I had never seen any of these players live, but I've heard Wooley, Morris, and Moran on record before, so I was interested to see what they had in store. They started out with some composed music that all went through Mr. Levin in terms of dialog. Throughout the set, they switched between composition, solos, and full band improvisations. I tended to enjoy the composed sections more, and I really enjoyed the sound of the group. As I've mentioned before, I'm a sucker for vibraphones, and the combination with bass, cello, and trumpet produced a great tonal pallet. My biggest complaint about this set was the sound - Mr. Levin was way too low in the mix, considering his status as band leader and since so much of the music obviously hinged on his musical cues.
The final act was akin to a heavy weight title bout, featuring Kidd Jordan on tenor saxophone, Dave Burrell on piano, William Parker on bas, and Louis Moholo on drums, under the banner Louis Moholo and Friends. Their set consisted of two long improvisations, and Kidd Jordan really came across as the band leader here, making some gestures to the other musicians to direct the sound on several occasions. Like the good folks at D:O, I found Burrell and Moholo a little low in the mix, especially Moholo from my seat.
Their set was short, about 45 minutes, and all of it was on the intense end of the free spectrum. Burrell was dazzling and attentive at the piano, engaging the band visually and musically, really adding a lot to the dialog. Kidd Jordan was fantastic as he almost always his when I see him, as I've always loved his use of the upper registers of his horn. A couple of times I would have liked to hear him take a step back so I could hear what Burrell might do in the driver's seat, but overall it was an incredibly balanced group in terms of participation.
That's all I've got to say about that. Overall, my Vision Fest highlights were Matthew Shipp's solo set, Fred Anderson Trio, and the Moholo and Friends set. Here's to hoping next year's even better. I apologize for the lack of visual documentation, but I left the old camera in Chicago. It's probably for the best, since my patented out of focus shots don't add that much to the experience.
While I was at the fest, I picked up a collection of William Parker essays entitled "Who Owns Music?" as well as Volume II of Arcana, a compilation of essays by creative musicians compiled by John Zorn. More on those as I dig in.
Elsewhere in the blogosphere, there's been some good discussion going on over at DJA's Secret Society blog. It's been productive for me to be challenged and engaged in regards to some of my own thoughts, so go ahead and jump into the fray if you've got something to say. Pat Donaher weighs in on the Zorn issue in regards to a recent David Hajdu article as well.
Well, you only live this life once.
So, when the stars aligned to produce a low airfare, an impulsive state of mind, and a temporary lapse of judgment in regards to my own physical and mental sanity, I jumped on a plane for NYC Friday morning to catch the end of Vision Festival and run around the city for a few days.
I made it to Friday and Sunday, using Saturday to fulfill the inevitable deluge of familial and friendly obligations I take upon myself whenever I step foot in Manhattan (and Brooklyn these days, for that matter).
I can offer a different perspective on Friday from Mr. Olewnick for your comparison pleasure. There's also some interesting discussion on the Vision Festival going on over at DJA's blog (more on that later). Obviously I went in with a decided lack of skepticism, considering the fact that I chose to fly across the country to catch some shows.
I missed the violin tribute to Leroy Jenkins due to some slow food service and an underestimation on my part on how long it would take to get down to the Lower East Side.
Soon after I walked in, Roy Campbell's Ahkenaten Suite began, featuring Mr. Campbell, Billy Bang, Bryan Carrott, Hilliard Greene, and Zen Matsuura. The suite consisted of maybe 4-5 songs, all of them carefully composed. I thought the playing by the individuals was solid if not superlative, but the writing was excellent and I hope he develops the music further and hopefully records it as well. I love the vibraphone so its inclusion in any band increases my sonic enjoyment factor, and it was a great set to kick off my Vision Festival experience.
I was happily surprised to see that Matthew Shipp's solo set was next, since it had originally been scheduled for after the Leroy Jenkins tribute, so I had thought I'd missed it. It was definitely a highlight of the weekend, and it made me regret not seeing him solo when he was in Chicago sometime last year. It was a really engrossing set, and it was interesting to watch the crowd slowly get pulled in, as the background chatter ceased and he wrapped the audience around his twirling fingers. For me, he struck a fantastic balance between density and space, retaining a sense of playfulness and relaxation that shone through the music. A real gem of a set.
Next up was Patricia Nicholson's set of a dance/art installation, with accompaniment by the members of the William Parker Quartet, all individually and then as a group. It started out with each member of the band accompanying a dancer independently, in different locations within the venue - Rob Brown, Flip Barnes, William Parker, and Hamid Drake sequentially, each with an individual dancer.
While the addition of dance to improvised music has never been something that has added much to my experience, it's certainly never taken much away from it, and I don't understand the backlash against its incorporation into events like this from some people. I find it amazing that fans of such a marginalized music could put down an almost certainly marginalized form of dance. My biggest obstacle is probably that I listen with my eyes closed 90% of the time. I also have a harder time not ascribing meaning and intent to dance, constructing plot mentally, whereas I'm content to leave the music in the realm of abstraction.
In any case, I found the set to be enjoyable musically, and I remain open to the possibility that dance will enhance my concert going experience at some point in the future. I find it fascinating that dance and music are considered such separate entities in our society, especially in the art music realm, whereas in many other cultures around the world the two are inseparable. It's something I think about.
Next up was the Fred Anderson Trio, featuring Harrison Bankhead on bass and Hamid Drake on drums. It was truly a pleasure to see Fred in front of an out of town audience since I see him in Chicago so often, and to see how much other people enjoyed his music. It was really an incredible set: it started off with Fred playing a capella, with Harrison Bankhead and Hamid Drake joining in when Fred gave them the signal to do so. After playing as a group, and then featuring solos by Bankhead and Drake and then a full group improvisation again, the first song was basically the entire set, around an hour. It was a tour de force of improvisational music, with each musician putting on a veritable clinic on their respective instruments. The audience was really into it, and the set flew by considering how long it was, and they got a standing ovation.
They closed with Hamid Drake on frame drum, doing his chanting with Harrison Bankhead strumming chords on his bass. They play this song regularly as a trio now and I always find it soothing and enjoyable.
In contrast to Mr. Olewnick who found it lackluster compared to a previous Fred Anderson/Harrison Bankhead duo he'd seen (which is now available from Ayler Records, a great disc), I thought the set was fantastic. For what it's worth, Fred is 78, and for my money plays with an incredible intensity and force that requires no apologies regardless of his age. In terms of Mr. Olewnick's assertion that "...Drake was playing insensitively a lot of the time, often trampling over the other two," I have to disagree. Maybe it's my familiarity with the group, but Drake's propulsive and sometimes over the top style is how they function. He's the driving force, and while Fred is certainly featured, it's not a typical horn front man situation, and Fred has said many times that Hamid Drake's rhythmic style is what feeds his playing.
While I stayed for Myra Melford's set, I unfortunately don't have much to say about it. I was suffering from physical fatigue from traveling that morning and from listening fatigue after some great music. That's the only unfortunate part of the Vision Fest format for me: music overload, which I had definitely reached by this point in the night. Myra was playing wonderfully though, and a lot of the audience enjoyed it. I'm looking forward to seeing her in Millennium Park this summer with Nicole Mitchell here in Chicago.
To briefly address some of the discussion going on over at DJA's Secret Society, part of the issue for me gets back to the role of so-called critics, pundits, and writers. I'm less interested in opinions than I am in descriptions of the music: how it made you feel, how it sounded, etc. Mr. Olewnick's review tells me more about his own personal taste and prejudices than it does about the music made. Is it the role of a critic to dictate what a musician should or should not do? Is a critic more qualified to determine how a musician should interact or play in a band than the musicians themselves? Of course it's okay not to enjoy something, and to enjoy one thing more than another. But to make essential value judgments about musicians, their intent, and how they go about their art, to me is distasteful.
Perhaps I'm not into what most people would traditionally call 'artistic criticism.' I'm more concerned with finding some beauty and trying to share it with others, to shine a light in a corner where some others might not look. I'm more interested in watering seeds than trampling grass, attempting to reflect the beauty that I find in the music and write something inspired that might elevate rather than denigrate.
More on this topic, and a review of Sunday's shows later....
From the river to the ocean, and back again.
Last night a crowd convened on the north side of Chicago to see Fred Anderson and Hamid Drake lead their From The River to the Ocean band in the first of two album release parties. This one took place at the Stop Smiling headquarters, a magazine operation that produces some interesting literature if you ever get a chance to check it out. There was one memorable issue that dealt with Miles Davis' boxing prowess that stands out in my memory.
I arrived a little early at 6:45 before the posted 7 PM start time to find a crowd on the sidewalk waiting to get in. Apparently the doors wouldn't open until 7 we were told, which turned into 7:30. In the mean time, the crowd on the sidewalk swelled, to the point where people passing by became curious about what was going on inside. Add to this curiosity the fact that Stop Smiling had Nas and Madlib on the cover of their most recent issue and huge poster size pictures of the covers in the storefront window of the venue, and some people stopped thinking that Nas or Madlib would be making an appearance. This led to a few interesting conversations about Fred Anderson and who the hell he was.
The space was a small room with benches along the sides and back, and an open floor. I walked to the front and sat myself down on the ground directly in front of the stage. To call it a stage is a bit of an overstatement; it was maybe 6" high, and only 3 of the 5 band members actually fit on it, with Harrison Bankhead and Jeff Parker setting up on the floor.
John Corbett introduced the band to thunderous applause and we were off, with the first number featuring Hamid Drake on his frame drum, Josh Abrams on the guimbri, Harrison Bankhead on Cello (which he played for 3 of the 4 tunes), and Jeff Parker and Fred Anderson on their usual instruments, guitar and tenor sax respectively.
The setlist was something like this: From the River to the Ocean, Planet E, Strut Time, and a final tune that sounded like an open improv to me, perhaps based on the Sakti/Shiva track that closes the album.
The band immediately established a live rapport equal to or greater than the album. Of course I love the live setting with its immediacy and physical presence, and both the opening From the River to the Ocean and Strut Time stood out as more vibrant live than they do to my ears on the album.
Fred's booming tenor was made even louder via amplification, which was particularly unnecessary in my sitting position where Fred pointed directly at me, and his speaker did the same. At one point I had to cover my ears from the sound, lending the proceedings a Last Exitesque aural assault from my seat.
The two bass attack was particularly noteworthy, when Harrison Bankhead joined Josh Abrams on upright for one tune. Some serious low end action ensued, and they took advantage of the configuration by letting the two bassists play a solo together. They each took their turn as the lead, with Harrison Bankhead doing his double bowing to create an eerie accompaniment before Josh Abrams switched from pizzicato to arco acrobatics. Josh was on fire the whole night, especially when he played bass, at one point during a solo eliciting laughs of delight from his bandmates and a "go on Josh" from Harrison Bankhead.
Fred Anderson seemed to take a lot of happiness from the proceedings, visually enjoying the playing of the band. There was an incredibly high level of playing by every individual, with Hamid Drake providing the driving force and rhythmic variety throughout.
This same band will be playing at the Velvet Lounge tonight. I have a prior commitment that will keep me away, but if it finishes early I'm hoping to catch the second set. In my personal musical orbit, this is one of the best bands and most important music being made and I hate to miss a note of it.
The stage created this juxtaposition of a Stop Smiling banner hanging over Hamid Drake, probably one of the people most likely to smile that I know. I could not follow the banner's missive either, as I laughed and enjoyed the joyous music that poured from the stage.
It was hailed as the return of the prairie prophet.
Fred Anderson made his return to the concert stage on Sunday, choosing to make his comeback with the Great Black Music Ensemble, the AACM big band that has been doing a residency under the direction of Mwata Bowden the first two Sundays of each month at the Velvet Lounge.
That Fred chose to play his first show back with the GBME was emblematic of his dedication to the AACM and the music community at large, a commitment that has manifested itself in myriad ways in Fred's life. He made the decision to stay in Chicago rather than head to NYC as many of his peers did. He's mentored many musicians, nurturing their growth. Most of all perhaps, he's run the Velvet Lounge, a venue that has never made Fred rich but has provided a breeding ground for creative music. His return show with the Great Black Music Ensemble helped to shine a light not only on his return, but also on the band and the organization. Fred Anderson, selfless as always.
The Great Black Music Ensemble swelled to 16 pieces on Sunday (18 if you include conductor Mwata Bowden and special guest soloist Fred Anderson). They try and get as many AACM members as possible involved, but the lineup fluctuates from as few as 7 or 8 to as many as 30 for any given concert. Apart from well known names like Nicole Mitchell and Ed Wilkerson, there are a lot of younger and older musicians who come out to play who don't gig out as much otherwise, so it provides a nice showcase for their playing.
Fred's presence certainly made it a special occasion. The concert began as a 360 degree musical experience, with Fred entering from the back of the room alongside the gentle accompaniment of Isaiah Spencer on drums and the pianist whose name escapes me. Fred's huge, bold sound has to be heard in person to be believed (take note New Yorkers, and don't miss him at the Vision Festival), probably the most powerful tenor sound I've ever heard. He sounded as good as ever as he spun his usual sinewy lines through the Velvet audience.
They played one long set, about an hour and a half, playing material from a Fletcher Henderson chart, to Douglas Ewart's Mars Blues. Fred was featured as a soloist throughout, and he brought the house down each time. It was nice to see Fred honored by the community: the pianist got up and said a few words about how much he meant to the musicians and people around him, and he received several standing ovations during and after the show. The band played great, and you can tell that some of the young players really get a lot from playing with their elders and getting encouragement and feedback from them. After an effusive tenor sax solo, the young Kevin Nabors got a fist-pound of encouragement from Ed Wilkerson, and trumpeter Leon Q turned the ensembles' heads when he started spinning around, playing at them as much as the audience.
I'm a little late on this one, but Tzadik has decided to leave eMusic.
Mwanji has a nice roundup of more blogs for your feed reader.
The American Composers Forum podcast has a cool interview up with Odean Pope, Phillip Schroeder, and Laurie Des Marais. The topic? I'll let them describe:
"What do a jazz sax star, a post-Minimal composer, and a Deep Listener have in common? They once all served on a panel to decide commissioning grants for the American Composers Forum. Here they talk about life on the inside and dispel those tired myths about faceless bureaucrats deciding your future."
An interesting case study of UK Jazz distribution.
The Montreal Gazette has a nice write up about the Suoni Per Il Popolo festival.
I went and saw the Rob Brown Trio with William Parker and Gerald Cleaver on Friday night at the Velvet Lounge. Sometimes I don't have the stamina to write up a full review, and this is one of those times. Briefly, the music was excellent, and they played some very interesting pieces of music written by Mr. Brown for his quartet that includes Craig Taborn, but were altered for the trio format. I had never seen Gerald Cleaver live before and he was absolutely excellent, and had an ease and economy of motion in his drumming that was particularly enjoyable. His rhythmic repoire with William Parker was excellent, and Rob Brown was on fire all night, spitting out intriguing improvisations and leading his compositions with poise.
Last night I had the pleasure of seeing the Craig Taborn Trio at the Velvet Lounge. This was the second night of a two night run at the venue, and only the third performance by this particular lineup as far as I know, the first one occurring as part of the first annual Umbrella Music festival that happened last fall.
The lineup consisted of Craig Taborn on piano (a beautiful baby grand, a rare sight at the Velvet - I'm told Mike Reed was responsible for this - nice touch, Mike), Josh Abrams on bass, Mike Reed on drums, and for the second set only last night, a special and unexpected treat of Nicole Mitchell on flute.
As far as I could tell, insofar as there was no sheet music on stage or tunes called, the music was entirely improvised. If they were playing Mr. Taborn's music, I wouldn't have known anyway since I am unfortunately unfamiliar with his own work as a leader. I only know of his playing through his work with Roscoe Mitchell. Maybe someone could help me remedy that situation by recommending a recording of his.
When three patently patient musicians such as these three convene, the music can sometimes take a while to pick up, and I would say that was the case last night. The first set came to a nice simmer about halfway through, and I was consistently impressed by the sensitive use of dynamics by the group. They had no problem improvising at the level of a whisper or a roar, and their interplay displayed an ethic of close listening. Particularly, I found it compelling the extent to which each of the individual members felt comfortable leading, following, reacting, or acting entirely individually, which led to a wide array of improvisations.
Craig Taborn is a fantastic pianist who covers a lot of ground in the course of one concert. His technique is obviously superb and he references myriad genres and stylistic flourishes with a sense of nonchalance. He found two great partners in his musical endeavor in Josh Abrams, one of my favorite, dare I say up and coming, bassists in Chicago. I don't know if he should be up and coming because in my mind he's already arrived, performing with the likes of Fred Anderson , Nicole Mitchell, Jeff Parker, and many others, in addition to his diverse musical practices with Prefuse 73 and Town & Country. Mike Reed is a member of the aforementioned Umbrella Music group, a tireless advocate and organizer in addition to his excellent drumming and musicianship.
The second set saw the band expand to a quartet with the addition of the definitely-arrived Nicole Mitchell. It was great to see Nicole thrown into the mix here. Her rapport with Craig Taborn was instant, and I would love to see them perform as a duo. Their ideas seemed to meld and compliment immediately, as they took turns leading, following, and generally participating in the music being made.
Nicole's integration of her voice into her flute playing is unparalleled in my listening experiences in this music. She will be singing at one moment and then bring her flute to her mouth and pick up right where the flute playing led off. Sometimes the singing comes almost to a yell (with an excellent sense of pitch, might I add) that brings a sense of catharsis to the proceedings. Who here hasn't wanted to scream out on occasion when listening to some stirring improvisations?
This quartet created some downright otherworldly sounds, and utilized a sense of juxtaposition and contrast throughout the set. At one point, Josh Abrams and Mike Reed held down a minimal groove while Ms. Mitchell and Mr. Taborn spiraled over the top. It was truly sublime music. If the first set simmered, the second set certainly boiled over.
The proceedings were being recorded, I assume for commercial release. I hope that does indeed happen so I can hear what else this group did the night before, and relive some of the thrilling music made last night.
I had the pleasure of seeing Douglas Ewart and Inventions last night at the Velvet Lounge here in Chicago. I've seen this band many times over the years, almost always at the Velvet, and in various configurations. Last night's band was a Septet, featuring: Douglas Ewart on clarinets, sopranino sax, didgeridoo and flute, Ed Wilkerson on tenor and didgeridoo, Mwata Bowden on baritone sax, clarinet, wood flute, and didgeridoo, Dee Alexander on vocals, Duriel Harris on vocals, Darius Savage on bass, and Dushun Mosley on drums.
I've also seen the band as a quintet, an octet, a nonet, and a tentet, with members such as Jeff Parker, Lester Lashley, Hamid Drake, Avreaayl Ra, and Wallace LaRoy McMillan.
Douglas always titles his concerts; last night and the night before were entitled "Good Friend Better Than Pocket Money." Well said Douglas.
The show started off with a quartet of Mwata Bowden, Darius Savage, Dushun Mosley and Duriel Harris taking the stage for a meditative groove that backed the poetry of the lovely Ms. Harris. Mwata played didgeridoo and also used a stick to strike the instrument for percussion, and the Savage/Mosley rhythm section put a nice steady groove behind them.
That segued into a trio of the other three musicians which ended up being a highlight of the show: Douglas Ewart on bass clarinet, Ed Wilkerson on tenor, and Dee Alexander on vocals.
In any case, back to the music: this trio played a truly sublime improvisation. Dee can do incredible things with her voice. With my eyes closed I could have sworn I heard an analog synth of some kind coming from the stage, but indeed it was Ms. Alexander's voice. Ewart and Wilkerson have a deep musical repoire they've cultivated over the years and it showed here as they wove their lines together, creating spontaneous counterpoint with incredible results.
A word about Ed Wilkerson: he's one of my favorite tenor players and hugely underrated for both his own instrumental musical abilities as well as his compositional prowess. His work with his big band, Shadow Vignettes (the subject of a recent documentary, Odd Eye O Mumbo Jumbo) as well as his innovative 8 Bold Souls. He's a fantastic player in the inside/outside tradition, and his tone makes me melt every time. There seems to be no note or phrase that escapes the wrath of his enormous sense of conviction that pervades his stage presence and music. Last night he was on as usual, and he is aging very well musically, fitting into every situation with restraint or boldness depending on the needs of the situation.
Another highlight of the evening was the opener of the second set that had Darius Savage switching to fretless electric bass and turned into a steady rocking, rollicking, marching number with an incredibly catchy melody and fantastic solos by Mwata Bowden on clarinet, Ed Wilkerson on tenor and Mr. Ewart on flute.
The didgeridoo numbers are always a treat for me. All 3 players, Bowden, Wilkerson and Ewart are excellent circular breathers so they can get into some deep trance and grooves which I always enjoy.
The only downside of the evening were the chatty folks behind me who stick out like a sore thumb at the Velvet which is well known amongst regular audience members as a sanctuary for quiet listening.
Douglas Ewart and Inventions will be back at the Velvet in June for two nights to celebrate a CD release of material culled from many appearances at the Velvet, a long overdue document of this band. I have no problem saying that every time I see Inventions I hear something magical happen.
I think I'm going to go back to the Velvet tonight to see the Great Black Music Ensemble big band. Word on the street is that Fred Anderson will make a return to performing after a lengthy hiatus by appearing with the band on June 10th. More details later.
Remainder:
Check out the republished articles from Bells, a '70s music 'zine, being reprinted by the folks at Metropolis [via AMN].
"Part One includes reviews and discussions of the work of Ornette Coleman, Albert Ayler, John Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders, Cecil Taylor, Archie Shepp, Sun Ra, Marion Brown, Roscoe Mitchell, Art Ensemble of Chicago, Don Moye, Anthony Braxton, Leo Smith, Oliver Lake, Julius Hemphill, David Murray, and others."
I had the pleasure of seeing cornetist, composer, and fellow blogger Taylor Ho Bynum's trio, quartet, and quintet last night at the Velvet Lounge here in Chicago. He rolled into town as part of a tour his trio is doing, Chicago representing the western-most stop on the trip. I'm always happy to see out of town artists making it to Chicago, especially people who don't have a built in audiences and are taking a chance on playing here and building one.
Lucky for us Chicagoans we saw not only his trio, but also a quartet with bassist Nate McBride and a quintet that added the flutes of Nicole Mitchell, which allowed Mr. Bynum to display his playing and compositions in a variety of settings, with a range of timbres, and of course some changed dynamics and interplay. The results of all three configurations were fantastic.
I had never heard Mr. Bynum's own music until I walked into the Velvet that night - I had heard his playing with Anthony Braxton and with Jason Kao Hwang's Edge on recording, but otherwise went in ear unheard (akin to sight unseen).
The concert started with the trio and built throughout, adding Nate McBride on bass halfway through the first set and then Nicole Mitchell at the start of the second set.
My first impression of the trio was that Mr. Bynum keeps excellent musical company.
Tomas Fujiwara was fantastic on the drums, lending sensitive accompaniment as well as active musical input all through an astonishing economy of motion.
Mary Halvorson was an unassuming monster on the guitar, utilizing the whole fretboard, a whammy pedal, and her own impressive chops, technique, and musicality to produce some incredible music.
And Taylor himself played adeptly on the cornet, an instrument which I must admit is dear to my heart as my first instrument, a tarnished, beat up horn that I inherited from my father and played amongst a row of shiny rented trumpets in 4th grade concert band.
Mr. Bynum utilizes the horn's full range and all of its timbral possibilities, at times framing the proceedings with textures and interjections and other times taking on the traditional role of melody in the ensemble. I hesitate to say there was much "soloing" during the concert by any member, although of course there was - but this was truly an ensemble situation, and while certain members were highlighted and showcased at times, there was a remarkably egalitarian slant to the compositions and improvisations.
The addition of Nate McBride on bass added quite a lot to the rhythmic interplay with Tomas Fujiwara, and it also fleshed out the range of the ensemble by adding the low end. The addition of Nicole Mitchell added her unique voice to the ensemble and really brought out some of Taylor's compositional skills in a higher relief harmonically and timbrally than is possible in the trio.
I only made it partway through the second set before my drooping Tuesday night eyes led me back home. I did pick up Taylor's sextet's new album the Middle Picture which I look forward to listening to and writing about. I noticed that Mr. Bynum's CDs hold an esteemed spot on the shelf next to Donald Byrd and just a short way down from Mr. Bill Dixon.
Nice to meet you Taylor - thanks for the great music - sorry I didn't make it till the end of the show to chat more. Hopefully we'll see you in Chicago again soon!
I had the pleasure of seeing the William Parker Quartet last night at the Empty Bottle here in Chicago. I've seen Mr. Parker on several occasions, but never with his Quartet, which is by far my favorite group of his, having released two excellent recordings, 2000's fantastic O'Neal's Porch and the followup, 2004's Sound Unity.
The band consists of: Lewis 'Flip' Barnes on trumpet, Rob Brown on alto sax, William Parker on bass and shehnai (thx Jason), and Hamid Drake on drums.
Parker and Drake have become an indispensable rhythm team in recent years after their first encounter in one of Peter Brotzmann's groups, and with good reason. Their dynamic and empathetic interplay is second to few, if any.
I've always enjoyed the Quartet's music because of the impeccable balance Mr. Parker has struck between composition, improvisation, inside and outside playing. Last night showcased all of these elements in a set that had seamless segues between most of the songs - if I recall correctly there was only two breaks in the set, one in the middle, and one at the end before the encore, and there were several songs played during each of those stretches.
There's also an interesting mix of timbres from the players - Flip Barnes has a very clear trumpet tone, with nothing in the realm of extended technique - at times, Rob Brown has a very reedy, brash tone on the alto, but he also slips into some very smooth and fluid bebop lines - and Parker and Drake utilize all of their respective instruments, dynamically and harmonically. I've heard Parker state that one aspect of his study of the bass has been to view it as a drum set, with each string representing a different aspect of the set. It comes across in his strong rhythmic playing that lays a foundation for Drake's explorations in swing and polyrythms.
Fred Anderson was in the crowd enjoying the show, as William Parker alluded to when he mentioned there were musical luminaries in the audience. The band tipped their hat to the Chicago scene by playing a tribute to John Gilmore called "Gilmore's Hat" and a tribute to Malachi Favors Maghostut called "Malachi's Mode."
Unfortunately they only played one short set and an encore, it was an early show at the Empty Bottle to make way for the real money makers, a rock set with an audience that likes to drink. After the show I picked up the new William Parker/Hamid Drake duo disc from Aum Fidelity, Summer Snow, and I look forward to the new William Parker Quartet and Sextet recordings due out this spring on the same label.
Also, Rob Brown mentioned to me that hopefully he'll be back in town with his trio, with William Parker and Gerald Cleaver, at the Velvet Lounge, but that he was still working out the details.
Pictures later....
I had the pleasure of seeing Bill Frisell, Jenny Scheinman, and Greg Leisz in a trio last night at the Steppenwolf theater, a nice small theater on the north side of Chicago. Before the show I thought I had been there once before to see Peru Negro several years ago, but when I arrived I realized it must have been one of the other 'tiny theaters' on the north side of Chicago.
I was excited to see Frisell in this configuration - previously I'd seen him with the Unspeakable band, which was a fantastic show musically, overcoming the setting of the cavernous Symphony Center. I also saw him with Lee Konitz's band at the Symphony Center, a show that I found quite disappointing, with the only redeeming highlight being a duo encore with Konitz and Frisell that made the show worth the price of admission.
Seeing him with a violinist and a multi-instrumentalist pedal steel/lap steel player in an intimate setting was everything I hoped it would be. There was an incredible balance of improvisation and composition, with the former providing interesting and creative segues between the latter.
They opened with an extended improvisation that led into a brief theme, and then back into improvisation. From the first noise made on stage to the first round of applause, there was about 30 minutes of continuous music, which generally followed this format of weaving from what sounded like free improvisation, into at theme, into improvising around that theme, and back into free improv.
Frisell started the show on his acoustic, switching later to his trusty telecaster. It's amazing how his tone is so instantly identifiable no matter what the instrument or context; he is truly an artist who has found their own voice.
I'm not great with names of tunes, but some highlights and songs that I remember from the setlist were: Misterioso (which was given a very different treatment from the version on the recent album with Ron Carter and Paul Motian), an absolutely gorgeous version of "Shenandoah," his always brilliant version of Bob Dylan's "Hard Rain's Gonna Fall," and in one of the most beautiful songs of the night, an extended treatment of the Beach Boys' "Surfer Girl."
It took me a minute to realize it was "Surfer Girl" he was playing, and I'm still not sure if it was a medley with some other melodies and themes in there. It made me have one of those "why didn't I think of that" moments - something that I find happens often when I listen to Frisell.
Scheinman and Leisz were great counterparts for Frisell. Scheinman provided a lot of melodic content along with a surprising amount of rhythmic support. That was one interesting aspect about the trio - they shared all responsibilities equally, melodically, harmonically, and rhythmically.
All in all, a fantastic show. I hope they document this trio in a recording sometime in the near future - a great balance of sounds, timbres, personalities that deserves to be recorded.
As promised, I am writing to review the new Indigo Trio CD recently released on Greenleaf Music, Live In Montreal. Since I also attended the album release party at the Velvet Lounge last night, I'm going to add in a review of their live show and generally condense the post into a discussion about the band, their interplay, and their musicality.
The Indigo Trio is...Nicole Mitchell on flutes and vocals, Harrison Bankhead on bass, cello, and vocals, and Hamid Drake on drums and percussion (in this case the frame drum).
Their new album opens with Harrison Bankhead's arco bass, soon accompanied by the fluttering of Nicole Mitchell's flute and then finally the addition of Hamid Drake's delicate brush work. Bankhead's bass, as is often the case in the live show, gives a lot of the music a sense of structure, harmonically and rhythmically, guiding the group "in" and "out."
Any notion you may have had about the flute being an inherently featherweight instrument in this heavyweight trio configuration are misguided. As Peter Margasak recently noted in his preview of the show, Nicole Mitchell is well on her way to becoming jazz's greatest living flute player. If she continues at the pace she's going as a musician, composer, and innovator, I think she has the ability to be the best ever. Her artistry, ability, and pliability as a musician is astounding, and she has an incredible presence both on the recording and live in person.
It's interesting for me to hear her in this particular trio because of what one of the forefathers of the Chicago scene, Fred Anderson has already done and accomplished with these same musicians. His work with Harrison Bankhead and Hamid Drake is truly incredible, and to hear her step into the same situation and make it her own is a testament to her abilities as an improviser and composer. Bankhead and Drake are in their usual state of responsive, attentive musicianship, toeing the fine line between being reactive and supportive and providing input and stimulus at the same time.
On both the album and in their live show, the trio shows a willingness to explore a wide variety of rhythmic and tonal settings, belying influences as diverse as roots reggae, afrobeat (I know Hamid Drake played reggae extensively in the 70s-80s, and Nicole Mitchell is a big reggae and afrobeat fan), hardbop, latin grooves, and everything in between. They also strike a nice balance, to my ears, between free improvisation and composed material, something that I appreciate in an improvising unit.
The album release show last night at the Velvet Lounge was packed and very well received by the audience, who were rapt with attention and very appreciative of the musical offerings. I hope we get to see the trio again soon, although I know that it will be a rare treat, as Nicole Mitchell is extremely busy and Hamid Drake is constantly traversing the globe with musicians like William Parker, David Murray, or Bill Laswell.
If you haven't picked up the album yet, you can do it here - $8 for instant gratification MP3s, or $12 for the album in the mail.
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