Madjid Khaladj: Iran, The Art of the Tombak

The tombak, also known as the zarb, is the centerpiece of Iranian classical music percussion and the drum, made of mulberry wood or walnut and covered with goat skin, is often to the music what the tabla is for Indian classical music.

One of the more amazing elements of playing the instrument is the variety of sounds and ways of playing involved, as the use of all the fingers and palms at the edges and centers of the drum head provides an astonishing range of dynamics.

This recording from the venerable French label Musique du Monde presents the talents of Madjid Khaladj, who moved to Paris to work as a teacher and performer in Iranian classical percussion.  The album presents a range of pieces demonstrating his mastery of the tombak.  Much of the brilliance of the musical form and the particular use of percussion is the improvisational techniques utilized (again, much as with Indian music).

The pieces on the album are from a variety of rhythms, including 6/8, 7/16, 12/8 and 12/16 types, as well as those based on the number of beats, ranging from 2,4, 5 or 6, with these performances usually accompanying such traditional Iranian pieces as sung poems, music for classical dances and others.

Madjid Khaladj began studying the tombak at age 7 and learned another traditional instruments, as well.  In his early twenties, during the mid-1980s, he went to Paris to teach and remains in that city, though he also instructs in Switzerland and remains a very active performer and teacher, having worked with Lisa Gerrard (formerly of Dead Can Dance) and Ry Cooder.

Again, this album might not be of great interest to those who aren't into percussion, because of its total focus on the tombak, but for those who are, it can be a fascinating excursion into an art of longstanding in a part of the world that often has negative associations because of religion and politics.

The Durutti Column: Without Mercy Box Set

When I first got into The Durutti Column, the amazing and little-known project built around the mercurial and remarkable guitarist Vini Reilly, in 1986 because they were one of the two opening acts (along with The Fall) for the mega-popular New Order, one of my favorite albums was Without Mercy, released in 1984.

Reilly was pushed to make the album by Factory label impresario Anthony Wilson, who was a dedicated supporter of his first signee to the famed label, but who wanted him to take a different direction from the first three (and all excellent) albums, The Return of the Durutti Column, LC and Another Setting.  Wilson was especially interested in something more classical and expansive and suggested a work based on a poem of John Keats, La Belle Dame Sans Merci, and Reilly, while not happy with the idea, dug in and came up with a recording of two side-long suites.  The album's packaging, the first ever done by the great 8vo design firm, befitted the music with delicate and undulating lettering and a reproduction of a painting by Henri Matisse.

Playing much of the work on his first instrument, piano, as well as guitar, Reilly came up with a simple, but beautiful theme, and then built something around twelve stanzas of the poem for the first side and a "Without Mercy 2" for the second side, that incorporate drum machines, electronics, a greater emphasis on his gorgeous guitar and, interestingly, funk-based beats and horns to really turn things inside out.  Reilly's accompanists, including long-time percussionist and manager, Bruce Mitchell; violinist and violist Blaine Reininger; trumpeter Tim Kellet; and viola player John Metcalfe (the latter toured with Reilly for quite some time, including when I saw DC in 1986); and others do a tremendous job.

Last year, Factory Benelux issued a 4-disc Without Mercy box that put the original album with other recorded material from the time, both studio and live.  Having not heard this music for close to thirty years, I was happy to find that the intense admiration for the music was still there. So, in addition to the original album,  the Say What You Mean, Mean What You Say EP from 1985 and including the haunting "The Room" and "A Little Mercy" and four live tracks of the "Mercy Theme," "A Little Mercy" and related pieces make up Disc 2.  Then, the third and fourth discs are complete live performances from London (1984) and Oslo (1986) that include "The Mercy Theme," "A Little Mercy," and "Mercy Dance," the latter bringing in those funk-infused elements, along with other LC standards like "Tomorrow," "Blind Elevator Girl," "The Missing Boy," "Pauline" and others.

With the original album holding up beautifully after 35 years and all the fantastic extras with the additional three discs, this set has been listened to a lot and demonstrates some of Reilly's most interesting work as The Durutti Column, even if he has been less than enthusiastic about the results, calling it "a learning process" and shrugging it off saying "it doesn't really work."  In the liners for the box, though he allowed that having "very, very excellent musicians" meant that, "in retrospect it ended up being a very good move to do Without Mercy."

Bud Powell: The Complete Blue Note and Roost Recordings

His is a name I'd frequently come across when it came to reading about the most influential musicians in the so-called "Bop" era of jazz, from the mid-Forties into the mid-Fifties, give or take, but Bud Powell is not nearly as well known as Charlie Parker, Thelonious Monk, Dizzy Gillespie and others who came out of the remarkable period and its revolutionary sounds.

So, when it was time to find some of his music, it seemed like a pretty obvious choice was the four-disc Complete Blue Note and Roost Recordings issued on Blue Note in 1994.  The material here ranges from 1947 to 1963, though, because of severe mental issues, evidently at least partially due to a beating on the head from New York police officers in 1945, Powell's recording output was relatively limited and unevenness of execution and a lack of inspiration are often cited as problematic with the troubled pianist's recorded output.

Still, the set includes some remarkable performances, including the pianist's often stunning playing, the work of some of the finest musicians of the time, and generous samplings of Powell's compositional prowess.  This is especially true of the first two discs, where his lightning fast runs and powerful left hand comping were most consistent and thrilling and where his best original pieces shine through, including "Bouncing With Bud;" "Un Poco Loco;" and the remarkable "Glass Enclosure."  There are plenty of great moments on discs three and four, though, such as "Frantic Fancies;" "Bud on Bach;" and "Cleopatra's Dream."

Powell also had many great supporting musicians on these recordings, including Max Roach, Fats Navarro, Sonny Rollins, Roy Haynes, Curly Russell, Art Taylor, Paul Chambers, Philly Joe Jones and Sam Jones, with most sessions being with trios.  He may not be considered as crucial a bebop figure as Parker, Mink and Gillespie, but this set provides plenty of evidence why Bud Powell was a giant as a pianist and composer.

Ludwig von Beethoven: Early Years Through The Eroica

Sometimes it's necessary to tune out from a world that can be a little too much with its turmoils and traumas.  It seemed that way for a bit last week with the government shutdown, the battles between political figures, and, even though we needed it and I usually don't mind it in relatively small doses, a few gray rainy days.

So, listening to the six-disc Early Years Through the Eroica box set issued as part the Smithsonian Collection of Recordings in 1988 (when the Iran-Contra scandal was going on and now seems remote and quaint in comparison to the shenanigans now), was a real pleasure and a way to briefly escape today's scrapes.

Most interestingly, the recordings were made using original instruments. The three discs comprising the first six of Beethoven's seventeen string quartets are beautifully rendered by The Smithson String Quartet, with the two violins, viola and violoncello played on instruments ranging in construction from 1665 to 1748   Two sonatas for violoncello and fortepiano are rendered on a 1708 version of the former and an 1800 edition of the latter.  The Smithson Chamber Orchestra uses instruments for the first three of the master's symphonies, including the famed Third (the Eroica), that go back as far as the 17th century with some modern but based on historic instruments.

The instrument in which the differences between the older and newer versions most are noticeable is the fortepiano.  It has five octaves, rather than seven and one half, lighter, narrower keys and thinner hammers, and weighs under 200 pounds compared to nearly 1,000 for a modern grand.  So, the sound is lighter and thinner.  Some argue that's why advances were made with later pianos to improve the dynamics and range and are reason not to go back.  But, as with recordings made on harpsichords, what's interestng about hearing this set is you do get a fascinating glimpse into what audiences would have heard when these pieces were first performed.