Thursday, November 5, 2009
Secondary Deviations review from Paris Transatlantic
Here is a review of digital download recording available on Ayler Records:
There's an art to selecting a lead-off cut for an album, and "Welcome Steps" probably wasn't the best choice, but once the disjointed individual tempos have melded into a dog-chasing-its-tail frenzy, it gets a lot more appealing, culminating in guttural blasts from alto saxophonist Jim Hobbs and the braying trumpet of Forbes Graham. The other pieces here are much more convincing. Jacob William plays the syncopated bass line of "Palm Dance" with such insistence throughout its 13 minutes that when he finally drops out for a drum solo by Croix Galipault (who begins the track with woodblock and light cymbal taps, working gradually up to fevered press-rolls) you feel the absence. Hobbs and Graham's exchanges over this potent rhythmic brew are consistently inventive: Graham, in particular, has a Steve Lacy-like tendency to repeatedly deconstruct his own lines, though at other times his playing has a brashness recalling Lester Bowie. "Rishi Dance" is 22 minutes long yet keeps interest from flagging by varying its motifs constantly, and is anchored by William's two beautiful bass solos at its centre. "Upload Method" features harshly percussive playing by the altoist, while the rest of the group alternately works in tandem with him or in counterpoint. On the brief, sprinting "Repetition" the horns play near-parallel lines that converge sporadically on extended unisons, with the rhythm section clearing the way; it makes for a thrilling conclusion to the record.
So who do these guys sound like? An immediate point of comparison would be a contemporary group like the Empty Cage Quartet, but (though perhaps it's excessively high praise) I'm most consistently reminded of early Art Ensemble recordings collected in the Nessa box, way before they added "of Chicago" to their name. Plus, if the liners didn't indicate otherwise, I could believe this was recorded in somebody's basement.–SG
There's an art to selecting a lead-off cut for an album, and "Welcome Steps" probably wasn't the best choice, but once the disjointed individual tempos have melded into a dog-chasing-its-tail frenzy, it gets a lot more appealing, culminating in guttural blasts from alto saxophonist Jim Hobbs and the braying trumpet of Forbes Graham. The other pieces here are much more convincing. Jacob William plays the syncopated bass line of "Palm Dance" with such insistence throughout its 13 minutes that when he finally drops out for a drum solo by Croix Galipault (who begins the track with woodblock and light cymbal taps, working gradually up to fevered press-rolls) you feel the absence. Hobbs and Graham's exchanges over this potent rhythmic brew are consistently inventive: Graham, in particular, has a Steve Lacy-like tendency to repeatedly deconstruct his own lines, though at other times his playing has a brashness recalling Lester Bowie. "Rishi Dance" is 22 minutes long yet keeps interest from flagging by varying its motifs constantly, and is anchored by William's two beautiful bass solos at its centre. "Upload Method" features harshly percussive playing by the altoist, while the rest of the group alternately works in tandem with him or in counterpoint. On the brief, sprinting "Repetition" the horns play near-parallel lines that converge sporadically on extended unisons, with the rhythm section clearing the way; it makes for a thrilling conclusion to the record.
So who do these guys sound like? An immediate point of comparison would be a contemporary group like the Empty Cage Quartet, but (though perhaps it's excessively high praise) I'm most consistently reminded of early Art Ensemble recordings collected in the Nessa box, way before they added "of Chicago" to their name. Plus, if the liners didn't indicate otherwise, I could believe this was recorded in somebody's basement.–SG
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Thoughts after attending Grizzler rehearsal
I'm a member of a large ensemble called Grizzler which is led by Dave Gross. We had a rehearsal on Sunday evening at Lou Cohen's house. There were 9 of us at the rehearsal.
One of the things we worked on was trying to (during the course of a piece) not play for an entire minute (as an ensemble). I made a couple of comments during our post-play discussion about what I observed during the improvisation.
Before the minute of silence actually occurred, there were at least a couple of "false starts" during which some members of the ensemble made a conscious effort to institute the minute of silence. These false starts imbued a certain pregnancy to the music which I actually found quite exciting.
It seemed to me that once we got to the minute of silence, everyone was really ready for it. But that could be because I was really ready for it. What do I know.
I was surprised at how well I thought that the exercise worked, because personally, I'm not that interested in the aethestics[sic?] of silence.
I have two main approaches to improvising within a group. The first is to be an active collaborator who seeks to blend sound effectively. In other words, I'm not always looking to stand out, I'm looking to add things that make the music as coherent as possible. I don't mean accesible, I mean that what I'm doing makes some sort of sense compared to what other people are doing.
Now, there are times when I will do the exact opposite, usually for the following reasons: 1) To make a point 2) To challenge the dominant paradigm 3) Because I deserve it since I've been a team player for most of the rest of the time. A further explanation:
1) To make a point - another of saying "For the heck of it", "Because I can", "I got kind of bored", "I wanted to see what would happen".
2) To challenge the dominant paradigm - To challenges the expectation of what the ensemble will sound like or what I will sound like.
3) Self explanatory
The other main way that I play is to see the improvisation as a series of events, to interpret those events, and to react to them. I often watch other players very closely and react to what they do. This happens a lot with drummers. I just wait for them to hit the hi-hat, or the ride. I literally wait for the moment when they do it and that's when I play. I keep an eye out for visual cues as well as musical cues.
Improvisation for me is a serious and solid study into the aethestics[sic?] of interaction. That's how we build collectively as a group of musicians.
So there you have it, a look into what goes in my brain when I'm playing with other people.
One of the things we worked on was trying to (during the course of a piece) not play for an entire minute (as an ensemble). I made a couple of comments during our post-play discussion about what I observed during the improvisation.
Before the minute of silence actually occurred, there were at least a couple of "false starts" during which some members of the ensemble made a conscious effort to institute the minute of silence. These false starts imbued a certain pregnancy to the music which I actually found quite exciting.
It seemed to me that once we got to the minute of silence, everyone was really ready for it. But that could be because I was really ready for it. What do I know.
I was surprised at how well I thought that the exercise worked, because personally, I'm not that interested in the aethestics[sic?] of silence.
I have two main approaches to improvising within a group. The first is to be an active collaborator who seeks to blend sound effectively. In other words, I'm not always looking to stand out, I'm looking to add things that make the music as coherent as possible. I don't mean accesible, I mean that what I'm doing makes some sort of sense compared to what other people are doing.
Now, there are times when I will do the exact opposite, usually for the following reasons: 1) To make a point 2) To challenge the dominant paradigm 3) Because I deserve it since I've been a team player for most of the rest of the time. A further explanation:
1) To make a point - another of saying "For the heck of it", "Because I can", "I got kind of bored", "I wanted to see what would happen".
2) To challenge the dominant paradigm - To challenges the expectation of what the ensemble will sound like or what I will sound like.
3) Self explanatory
The other main way that I play is to see the improvisation as a series of events, to interpret those events, and to react to them. I often watch other players very closely and react to what they do. This happens a lot with drummers. I just wait for them to hit the hi-hat, or the ride. I literally wait for the moment when they do it and that's when I play. I keep an eye out for visual cues as well as musical cues.
Improvisation for me is a serious and solid study into the aethestics[sic?] of interaction. That's how we build collectively as a group of musicians.
So there you have it, a look into what goes in my brain when I'm playing with other people.
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