Alice Coltrane: Ptah, the El Daoud

Pianist and harpist Alice Coltrane has often been overlooked and overshadowed by the massive presence and legacy of her husband John Coltrane, but in the decade after the latter's death in July 1967, she produced a body of work that stands on its own as among the best in American music, much less jazz.

Born Alice MacLeod in Detroit in 1937, Coltrane played in a club in Paris and studied there with the great Bud Powell.  She also was an excellent vibraphonist and first gained notice in the Terry Gibbs band in the early 1960s.  Briefly married to singer Kenny Hagood, perhaps best known for his vocals on the Birth of the Cool recordings led by Miles Davis in the late 1940s, she had a daughter, Michelle, with him, but the marriage soon ended.

Not long after meeting John Coltrane, Alice married him and the couple had three sons in short order and John adopted Michelle.  Then, at the end of 1965, when McCoy Tyner left John's band, Alice stepped in as pianist and immediately gave the band a different feel and presence from Tyner's strong block-chord style to a more flowing and delicate way of playing.

A devotee of Hinduism, Coltrane gradually moved closer to an all-encompasing devotion to her music that promoted those religious concerns, but for several years she produced recordings that blended those elements with excellent jazz components, creating a unique hybrid, even for that experimental era.

The high point might well be her 1970 album, Ptah, the El Daoud.  The title seems awfully dated, but the music hardly is.  Regarding that title, Coltrane offered the explanation that "Ptah" is an Egyptian god, who was "one of the highest aspects of God.  The reference to "El Daoud" deals with "the Beloved" and her use of it manifested a desire "to express and bring out a feeling of purification."

The title track begins with a steady march-like statement from the incomparable Ron Carter, who is best known for his years as a member of the Miles Davis Quintet from 1963 to 1968.  Coltrane's piano and Ben Riley's drums then enter to establish the steady rhythm.  Solos come from the dual horn section of Joe Henderson, always rock solid on the tenor and who was given the left channel throughout the recording, and Pharoah Sanders, also on tenor and on the right channel.  Sanders was a member, with Coltrane, in her husband's last group in 1966 and 1967, when his music became its most experimental and adventurous.

Coltrane's piano playing, heavily in the modal framework, is light-fingered, fluid and permeating, reminding this listener of how drummer Roy Haynes would play.  The pulse is not strong or powerful, but steady, persistent, rhythmic and melodic.  It is also highly distinctive.  Being one of the very few women instrumentalists to have a significant body of work, Coltrane created a way of playing that always impresses, without being overly flashy and showy.

In fact, her playing on the second track, "Turiya and Ramakrishna," is gorgeous, bluesy and soulful, sensitively accompanied by Riley's excellent brush work and Carter's higher register playing.  Absent are Henderson and Sanders and this is Coltrane's showcase.  Again, she plays with great feeling, fantastic control and fluidity and no bluster and Carter's solo is the embodiment of tastefulness and faithfulness to the tune.

"Blue Nile" then features Coltrane on the harp, on which instrument she masterfully plays while Henderson and Sanders provide a solid flute accompaniment.   Again, Carter proves to be so adept at placing the right notes in the perfect spots during the course of the piece.  This meditative piece manages to evoke real spirituality while keeping a steady jazz rhythm.

"Mantra" then passes the baton onto the horn players, who play their solos, but also intertwine their playing in an interesting, complementary and compelling way.  The lengthy piece gives Henderson and Sanders plenty of room to demonstrate their ample talents and Sanders especially shows that his playing could be a lot more bluesy, soulful than he was known for earlier when his multiphonics and extreme upper register blowing got plenty of notoriety with John Coltrane's band.

Ptah, the El Daoud is a distinguished record from a great bandleader, a woman who maintained a high standard of performance when women rarely had the opportunity to be leaders.  With excellent support from Sanders, Henderson, Carter and Riley, Coltrane created a masterpiece with this record.

Alice Coltrane:  Ptah, the El Daoud (Impulse, 1970)

1.  Ptah, the El Daoud  13:58
2.  Turiya and Ramakrishna  8:19
3.  Blue Nile  6:58
4.  Mantra  16:33

Burning Spear: Marcus Garvey/Garvey's Ghost

The great reggae act, Burning Spear, was originally a trio of lead singer Winston Rodney and backing vocalists Delroy Hines and Rupert Willington.  With Rodney's keening, smoky and powerful invocations and his partners' rough but highly effecting backing and the great instrumental support of many top-shelf reggae instrumentalists like bassists Robby Shakespeare and Aston "Family Man" Barrett, the latter of The Wailers; drummer Leroy "Horse" Wallace; lead guitarist Earl "Chinna" Smith; keyboardist Tyrone Downie, also a member of The Wailers later; among others, the group became one of the best-known bands of the genre's golden years in the 1970s.

The epitome of Burning Spear's long and memorable career is undoubtedly the classic Marcus Garvey, which was issued on Island Records' Mango subsidiary in late 1975.  Ten tracks move seamlessly from one to the other with the solid musicianship melding with the vocals and the lyrical concerns about Garvey's heroic status in trying to uplift the status of black people during his 1920s and 1930s heyday and other elements of Rastafarian religious issues, life in Jamaica, the history of its extinct native Arawak peoples and that of black slaves brought to the island later by the British; and other heavy themes.  There are no love songs or party anthems to be found here--this is pure consciousness and political music.  And, there isn't a weak track or filler in the bunch, with the title track, "Slavery Days," "Old Marcus Garvey," and "Tradition" being the highlights to YHB.

The 100th Anniversary CD release, commemorating the centennial of Garvey's birth paired the great record with the awesome dub version, released in April 1976, titled "Garvey's Ghost."  These versions mirror the running times of the original tracks and rate among the greatest dub pieces of all, right up there with the great Augustus Pablo's King Tubby Meets The Rockers Uptown, also from 1976 and Black Uhuru's mindblowing The Dub Factor (1983), both to be featured here eventually.

The trio recorded another record, Man in the Hills, released in August 1976, before Rodney ended the partnership and took the name Burning Spear as his own, going on to release such well-known albums as Dry and Heavy and Social Living.  He has continued to record and tour over the years since that 1970s peak, but it is hard to argue that Marcus Garvey was the pinnacle and that Garvey's Ghost is one of the great dub records of all time.

Johannes Brahms: Variations (Paganini, Handel, Schumann)

It's hard to go wrong when it comes to great piano music with Johannes Brahms (1833-1897).  For excellent performance, it is hard to go wrong with the Turkish master Idil Biret.  And for a reasonably priced, high quality recording, it is hard to go wrong with the Naxos label.

 

 

Recorded in Heidelberg, Germany in November 1989, this disc has three sets of variations from great composers.  The ones from Handel, dating to 1861, are derived from that composer's first harpischord suite, from which fully twenty-five variations issue ending with a fugue.  But, while the baroque melodic theme sets the template, Brahms created the variations in his own style, beautiful and arresting with a measured expression of power and passion.

 

That from Schumann actually was composed when Brahms was in his early twenties and just after Schumann went insane, tried to kill himself and was put into the asylum where he died in 1856.  Brahms wrote his variations, totaling, as an expression of sympathy for Schumann's wife and master pianist, Clara, for whom Brahms had a strong attachment.  She performed these variations in addition to her own that she had composed earlier.

 

The Paganini variations were viewed by the composer of studies based on the violin genius's twenty-fourth caprice.  There are, in all, twenty-eight variations, written in 1863 and, unlike most of his other work, these variations had a more grandiose character to it, perhaps because of their nature as explorations in the expression of varied ways of playing the piano from the technical standpoint.  It is said that these variations are quite hard to play, but, then again, Paganini's violin works also are the hallmark of precision and technical mastery.

 

Idil Biret, a native of Turkey's capital Ankara, graduated from the Paris Conservatory at 15 and began performing in concert halls throughout the world.  Among her work for Naxos are many recordings of the music of the great Chopin and she has recorded large sets of the complete piano works of that composer, of Brahms and of Rachmaninoff and a 19-CD set of works by Beethoven.  A new project by the 71-year old master for Naxos, due later this year, is the recording of the five piano concertos of Paul Hindemith.

 

Brahms was at artistic odds with such "modern" composers as Richard Wagner and Franz Liszt, whose drama and grandiosity was a strong counterpoint to the more "Romantic" tendencies of Brahms, whose work hearkened back to earlier heroes of his like Beethoven, Mozart, Haydn and, of course, Schumann.  Not perhaps unlike Tchaikovky, Brahms, though, was able to infuse his love of classic Romantic melodies with a style that bridged that past with the future of 19th-century music, both in terms of piano compositions and later symphonies.

 

Johannes Brahms:  Variations (Paganini, Handel, Schumann)  (Naxos, 1991)

 

1.  Variations on a Theme by Schumann  18:32

2.  Variations and Fugue on a Theme by Handel  27:02

3.  Variations on a Theme by Paganini

     Book 1:  13:28

     Book 2:  11:05

 



Hariprasad/Zakir Hussain: Venu

This is a fantastic live performance from 1974 that was remixed and released again fifteen years later on the World 360 subsidiary of Rykodisc that was run by The Grateful Dead's drummer Mickey Hart. 

The North Indian bansuri (bamboo flute) master Hariprasad Chaurasia is joined by the great tabla player, Zakir Hussain, in one long raga, programmed into two tracks because of a change in tempo and style, showcasing the improvisational ability and melodic and rhythmic complexity of these awesome musicians working in a long and distinguished musical tradition.

The album title of Venu is a reference to the ancient name of what is today called the bansuri.  The Rag Ahir Bhairav has a beautiful melody played by the flautist with, on the first portion of the track, a drone provided by the tambura.  The uncredited liner notes observe that the piece was created "for the early morning hours" and has melodic origins with a mountain tribe's music that "evokes the expectant hush of the predawn hours."  Consequently, the piece serves to remind the listener of "a time when romantic thoughts of the night mix with a feeling of reverance [sic] for the daily return of life-giving forces."

It is certainly with a feeling of wonder that the listener hears the complexity of the variations of several themes (gats played by Hariprasad on the flute with such purity of tone and range of phrasing, both subtle and powerful.  During the last thirty-five minute section, Hussain's table performs a seven-beat rhythm but, as is typical with Indian ragas, the tempo and tension build to a point where both performers express extraordinary speed and control in a 16-beat cycle called teental, this form achieving some popularity with Western listeners because of its rapidity and energy.

The performance was recorded in northern California in a house with granite walls and state-of-the-art recording equipment for the mid-1970s.  The remixing fifteen years later utilized fairly new digital technologies for that era and the sound is remarkably clear, well-equalized, and crisp.

This was one of the first Indian recording YHB heard when exploring "world music" back in 1990 and it retains its impact and impressions nearly a quarter-century later and is a true favorite, not just of Indian music, but all music.  It is a spectacular experience!

Anthony Braxton: Six Compositions: Quartet

Back in the early 90s when YHB was exploring jazz and becoming a confirmed admirer of Miles Davis, Ornette Coleman and, especially, John Coltrane, efforts were made to tap into more challenging "free jazz" performers such as Albert Ayler, Cecil Taylor, and Anthony Braxton.  In each case, getting into these masters of modern muisc proved to be much harder than the delving into the others mentioned above.

Having said this, the Braxton album that was purchased, Six Compositions: Quartet, released on the Antilles subsidiary of Island Records in 1982, did start off with a, for Braxton, very accessible and swinging "Composition 40B," written in 1976.  It has, perhaps, Braxton's most melodic head arrangement and the band, composed of bassist Mark Helias, pianist Anthony Davis and drummer extraordinaire Ed Blackwell, are tight, focused and, truly, swinging.  As for the leader, his soloing on the alto saw is typically jagged, innovative, and free-ranging.

What follows is a slower tempo, freer, and more abstract "Composition 69N," but the harmonization between the instruments, even the piano which doesn't use a hard chordal approach to dictate the flow, but is more fluid, is remarkable.  Particularly impressive to this listener is how Braxton, as a composer, juxtaposes the sounds of the quartet, using a soprano sax for a lighter, though still characteristically gritty, sound countered beautifully by Helias' apparently bowed bass.

The sing-song opening of "Composition 34" features a very cool bass riff from Helias, while Blackwell demonstrates his talents on the cymbals, especially when he rolls off "showers" of sound during the course of the piece, and then Braxton tears into rapid runs on his alto, while Davis usually plays in unison or comps in a free manner that follows Braxton's riffing and soloing.  This track is a highlight of the record.

Composition 40A is another slow-tempo and abstract work, with Blackwell's shimmering cymbal work beautifully done and then more excellent harmony between Braxton and Davis, while Helias provides excellent low-end rhythmic support that is plucked and bowed.  When Davis solos, it is with a light touch, but with great complexity and agility.

"Composition 40G" has more precise harmonization between the leader, playing the deep, rich toned contrabass clarinet, and the pianist, while, again, Blackwell uses shimmering cymbal textures and Helias bows his bass for most of the tune.  An abstract moodiness pervades the piece, especially as Braxton works the low end of the tonal range on his instrument and Blackwell makes an economical, but striking (!) use of mallets along with the washes of his cymbals.

The finale is "Composition 52" which goes back to a faster tempo, more tight harmonization between Braxton, again on alto, and Davis and another pretty memorable melodic line, interspersed with Braxton's compellingly jagged riffing.  About a minute in he launnches into a fantastic solo, while the rhythm section gives him excellent support and space to issue his flights of fanciful playing, demonstrating why he is truly one of the great saxophonists in music.  Davis then offers a very satisfying solo and Helias and Blackwell display an excellent interplay behind him.  Braxton comes back in for about the last minute and the band's tightness carries through to the end.  It's a great way to cap a tremendous record, but it's too bad this excellent quartet only worked this one occasion.

Six Compositions: Quartet was an opportune way to get introduced to the music of Anthony Braxton.  Another good entry point would be his 1987 album of Thelonious Monk pieces with the great Mal Waldron on piano and former Cecil Taylor sideman, Buell Neidlinger, on bass.  That album will be covered here at some point.

This blogger does not pretend to understand the nuances of Braxton's highly complex formulations that actually involve schematic drawings as titles along with the generic "Composition XX" signification.  His philosophy (or the plural) of music is, however, fascinating to read about and then try to follow when listening to his enormous catalog of works.  Having just finished Ronald Radano's book about Braxton, New Music Figurations:  Anthony Braxton's Cultural Critique (which is often as dense, complicated and hard to penetrate as the subject's music), there is no way for YHB to be able to state with much confidence that the intellectual understanding of the music is any clearer.  Soon to be read is Graham Lock's Forces in Motion, which sits in a box waiting to be picked up.

One of the remarkable facets of Braxton's work is that he has both a modernist classical repertoire and one featuring his unique approach to jazz ensemble and solo work.  This is another reason to question why labeling musicians as "jazz" or "classical" or specifically "free jazz" and "modernist" is so important to so many listeners.  Braxton is a polymath in composition types, the use of various reeds (and plays piano, among other instruments), and how he seeks to utilize science, mathematics, and spirituality into his often-complicated, but fascinating pieces.

It takes effort, but hearing Braxton's work, which span decades and many stylistic variations, is a worthwhile exercise in expanding the horizons of music, if the listener is willing to avoid trying to studiously to "understand" intellectually what is being done.  To paraphrase Albert and Donald Ayler's 1960s recommendation, mentioned here before, "try to follow the sounds, not the notes."  This is especially good advice when listening to the great Anthony Braxton!

Massacre: Lonely Heart

In 1981, a trio of somewhat unknown musicians associated with the New York "downtown" scene created a group called Massacre and released the quirky, eclectic and intriguing album, Killing Time.

Bassist Bill Laswell had yet to produce the groundbreaking "Rockit" for Herbie Hancock, which propelled him into a visibility that gave him the notoriety and funds to produce other acts and embark on a remarkable career as a producer of the self-described "collision music," in which musicians from all over the world were brought together in live and studio settings to create sounds no one else had done before or since.

Fred Frith, guitarist and bass player, best known, if at all, for his work in the experimental group Henry Cow, was also someone who would get some attention and acclaim for a wide variety of projects and especially became known for his unusual approach to playing the guitar, including the use of chains, tools, and other devices to coax strange and wonderful sounds from the instrument.

The short-lived 80s version of the band also included the young drummer Fred Maher, who was a member with Laswell in the early lineup of Material, a band that issued some unusual and often-impressive work before the moniker was assumed by Laswell for any number of his "collision music" projects, especially the classic 1994 Hallucination Engine album covered previously in this blog.

Massacre, however, was suddenly revived in  1998 by Frith and Laswell, who recruited drummer (and occasional melodica player) Charles Hayward, whose work with This Heat was known to some more adventurous listeners of English "alternative rock."  A studio album, Funny Valentine, and two live sets, Meltdown, recorded at the festival of that name in 2001, and the staggering Lonely Heart, taped at two European festivals in 2003, have marked the releases thus far, on John Zorn's Tzadik label, from the reconstituted group.

Some observers were troubled by the fact that two-thirds of the original group could bring someone else in and revive the name, as if that has only very rarely happened before.  The reality is:  Massacre is a showcase for the incredible talent and sound of Frith, with the able assistance of whatever quality rhythm section gives him the support and assistance, as well as space, to create his mesmerizing magic.

What distinguishes Lonely Heart from the earlier Meltdown is that Frith largely eschews the use of extraneous materials to ornament his playing—and this is not to denigrate his doing this, as the results on Meltdown are pretty amazing. 

But, Frith's stripped-down approach to playing on Lonely Heart is also combined with the fact that Massacre opened for metal demigods Metallica for some of these performances and it seems as if the trio felt they had to adapt their completely improvised sounds for the type of audience they were playing in front of.  Still, it is a version of Massacre that retains its own identity, if there can be said to be one, and yet works extremely well for the conditions.

As said above and elsewhere, this is Frith's showcase and he makes the most of it throughout, especially on the mammoth opener, "Send," which extends for twenty minutes, but goes by so quickly, because Laswell and Hayward provide such a varied and supple support to Frith's staggering display of chops.  "Step" displays Laswell's longtime penchant for reggae and dub rhythms and Frith's spare playing is almost like a breather before the trio launches into "In," a 7:40 tour-de-force for the guitarist, whose quirky inventiveness appears to have no limits.  Frith is simply all over the frets with a variety of picking and strumming techniques with rapid runs, jagged tones and all manner of wild and woolly playing while the rhythm section ably gives him the space and foundational support to do whatever strikes his fancy.

Then comes another massive display of dynamics and power, "Gracias a La Vida," which is over eighteen minutes, and it starts off with almost dueling guitars, as Laswell, like no other bassist, plays chords like a rhythm guitarist and Frith plays slide guitar in an atmospheric and bluesy fashion.  Then, all bets are off in the last few minutes of the piece, as Frith shoots for the stratosphere with some incredibly fierce fireworks.

"Return" gives the appearance of an encore and it's a downtempo and almost ambient performance.  Hayward plays some of his melodica, while Frith fiddles with effects to create a yearning sound, while Laswell quietly adds his sense of elastic rhythm to the proceedings.  It's moody end to a fiery record of masterful performances by three musicians who know how to improvise without letting the freedom get the best of them.  There's order to the mayhem and discipline to the joy of being able to create whatever comes to these excellent players in the moment.

Fred Frith is one of the most exciting and creative guitarists around and Lonely Heart and the supportiveness of Laswell, who excels at this in his many other projects with great musicians (Foday Musa Suso, Tony Williams, Sonny Sharrock, Pharoah Sanders, Buckethead, Peter Brötzmann, etc.), and Hayward, whose drumming always seems to where it needs to be, no easy task in this kind of setting and these types of fellow musicians.

Beautifully and clearly recorded by Oz Fritz, this album is a preeminent example of live improvisatory music that does need labels to adhere to it--it stands on its own as a great example of what three excellent players can do in an inspired setting.

John Adams: On the Transmigration of Souls

Commissioned by the New York Philharmonic a very short time after the 9/11 terrorist attacks, On the Transmigration of Souls is a transcendent musical experience and a remarkable achievement given how recent the horrific event was and how difficult the task likely was for the composer, John Adams.. 

But Adams, whose work includes operas like Nixon in China and The Death of Klinghoffer (the latter highly controversial in that Adams was perceived by some as pro-Palestinian and anti-Israeli) as well as pieces like Shaker Loops and Short Ride in a Fast Machine, emerged with a work that was somber and beautiful, reflective but hopeful, and emotive without being overwrought.  Nor did it take on any overt tinge of political opinions and references like the Klinghoffer opera. 

Given all that was entailed in a difficult subject fresh in the minds of so many people, the success of this work is all the more stunning.  Adams was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in music for it and the recording, released in 2004 by the Nonesuch label, received a Grammy--both of which were eminently well-deserved.

On the Transmigration of Souls begins with tape of sounds from New York and the adds the reading by family members and friends of the names of some of those who died on that day.  A children's chorus (Brooklyn Youth Chorus) adds another layer of sound and meaning to that of an adult chorus (New York Choral Artists) and Lorin Maazel's orchestra, which performs the slowly building score from its minimal and simple start to its stately and tension building and releasing elements, bursting out with sound that evokes emotion in response to the recitations and singing.  At the end, a woman's voice repeats a phrase heard earlier, "I see water and buildings" as the music and vocalizations fade and then the everyday noises return to end the 25-minute work, which seems to have progressed far faster than that.

Notably, Adams defined this piece as being about "memory spaces" (collective memory with significant historical events is a fascinating and multi-layered subject) and noted that "transmigration" is about the movement of souls from one place to another--this being a very Eastern philosophical concept not generally associated with thinking here in America.  His mixing of pre-recorded with live sounds is done with great skill and effect.  The chorales and the orchestra perform their parts with perfect sensitivity and import. 

As a rank amateur in the understanding of the technical and historical complexities of classical concert music, this blogger benefitted from reading the interesting liners by composer and teacher David Schiff, who observes a close connection between Adams and the work of the early American modernist composer Charles Ives, soon to be featured here.  Adams, in fact, has written a piece called "My Father Knew Charles Ives," which explicitly makes a musical linkage between himself and Ives, whose works dated from the early to mid (roughly) 1900s.  Schiff also observes that Adams, with his skillful blending of recorded voices and symphonic sound blurred the distinctions between the concert hall and the everyday lives outside it.

By any measure, John Adams produced a masterpiece with On the Transmigration of Souls and for this listener, who does not easily watch footage of the horrors of the 9/11 attacks, there is something in this work that is easier to take.  The blending of real-life sounds with the transcendant power of orchestral music provides an accessible avenue to revisiting that awful day, probably because the qualities inherent in the music allow for a reflectiveness that watching video footage and commentary cannot provide.  An occasional hearing of this great work seems necessary, particularly as time distances the direct connection the listener has with the events of that day, eleven and a half years ago.

The Musicians of the Nile: From Luxor to Isna

From Luxor to Isna is one of the earliest "world music" recordings heard by YHB back in the very early 1990s.  It remains a favorite as these performers from Upper Egypt, specifically the area around Luxor and the great temple at Karnak showcase their talents on the rababah (a two-stringed fiddle held vertically), the arghul (a clarinet with a strongly reedy tone), the mizmar (oboe) and several percussion instruments.

As noted with the album Taqasim by the great Simon Shaheen and Ali Jihad Racy, featured previously on this blog, the use of taqasim or improvised sections is used on several pieces of this album.

Percussion with the tablah (note the Indian tabla) or derbuka shows both the strength of hand striking and softer forms of drumming. 

The third track features four players of the mizmar, including the leader, whose impressive technique in soloing is dovetailed with passages of harmony between all the players of that oboe-like instrument.

Two tracks have notable vocal contributions, evoking emotional responses as well as telling epic tales, such as that of the love story of Yunes, a black man gone to Tunisia and Azizah, the daughter of the sultan.

Interspersed are recordings by Alain Weber, manager The Musicians of the Nile, of street activity, including a horse-drawn carriage, religious chants, and voices and sounds of people in a crowded urban environment, that give a little flavor of life in Luxor.  Peter Gabriel's Real World Records, which has provided a platform for the introduction of much of the music, traditional and modern, found throughout the world, deserves great credit for issuing this sublime recording.

The recordings were actually made in France and England, but these are performances by musicians deeply steeped in the long and diverse heritage of Egyptian, specifically Upper Egypt, music.  This is a beautiful and diverse record that deserved repeated hearings to discover the manifold sounds and textures emboided in the songs, instrumentation, and the playing of these masterful musicians.

Andrew Hill: Point of Departure

For some inexplicable reason, Andrew Hill remains a largely overlooked pianist and composer, whose 1960s works for Blue Note Records are among the best of that era.  Maybe it's that he wasn't a terribly flashy player, but instead used his keyboard work in the service of the piece and of the remarkable musicians who appear on this record.  It might also be that, as jazz was starting to enter the so-called "free jazz" era, Hill's work was not nearly as adventurous as those of the "avant garde" musicians.  This may be contested by some, but, in a way, Hill's directions remind me a bit of what Miles Davis was starting to do at about the same time with his "second great quintet."  That is, the overall direction wasn't as overtly revolutionary as what Cecil Taylor, Ornette Coleman, John Coltrane, Albert Ayler and others were creating, but there was a quieter transformation of how freedom was being utilized in an ensemble setting.

The common linkage between Davis and Hill was the rhythmic underpinnings and innovations of the very young Tony Williams, the then-18 and 1/2 year old drum wizard whose sense of openness in time-keeping allows everyone to move more freely in their solos. 

The horn section was an interesting combination of Kenny Dorham, Joe Henderson, and Eric Dolphy.  Dorham, a hard bop notable on trumpet, plays with a coolness that pairs well with Hill's understated way of accompanying the soloist.  It might be telling that Dorham, whose experience of playing with Coltrane and Taylor in 1958's Hard Driving Jazz, even when those two hadn't gotten anywhere near the freer expressions that came later, was, by all accounts, a miserable one, does much better here with Hill. 

Tenor sax player Henderson was something of a newcomer, having mustered out of Army service in 1962, but quickly gained a foothold as a leader for Blue Note and a side musician for Dorham, pianist Horace Silver, and trumpeter Lee Morgan.  He also had a hard bop sound generally, but also moved into some freer territory.  Later, he recorded with McCoy Tyner, Herbie Hancock and on Alice Coltrane's masterpiece Ptah the El-Daoud, soon to be profiled here.

Then, there's the phenomenal Eric Dolphy, featured on his usual mix of alto sax, flute and bass clarinet and whose unusual groupings of notes and angular, visceral playing is a contrast to Dorham.  Dolphy's sound is so distinctive and foreceful that his solos totally stand out, even as Dorham and Henderson perform excellently in the overall context of the band.

This leaves the rhythm section of the great Richard Davis on bass and Williams.  Davis, whom this blogger had a chance to see lead his own band at Catalina Bar and Grill in Los Angeles some twenty years ago,  was so highly regarded by Hill that the leader called him "the greatest bass player in existence" and a master of tone, technical ability and creativity.  Hill even noted that he wrote piano parts with Davis in mind so that the bassist could "pick out the notes he wants to use."  Davis played on Dolphy's monumental Out to Lunch! recorded for Blue Note less than a month before Point of Departure and on many other great jazz records.  He also, however, appeared on recordings by Van Morrison (the sublime Astral Weeks, also to be covered here), Bruce Springsteen and Paul Simon.

As for the leader, he has great lyrical ideas, a masterful command of tempo and beat, and innovative, if not (again) overly grandiose, solo concepts.  And, with such a stellar band on hand and with great pieces like the opened "Refuge," "New Monastery" (obviously referring to the master, Thelonious Monk), and the beautiful and haunting closing ballad, "Dedication," he had the perfect settng in which to create his masterwork.

Already using the state-of-the-art studio and engineering talents of Rudy van Gelder, this album benefitted further from a 1998 remastering by van Gelder for what is known as the RVG Edition.  Extra bonuses include alternate takes of "New Monastery," "Flight 19" and "Dedication."

Hill made other excellent albums for Blue Note in the mid-60s including Compulsion!!!! and Black Fire, but Point of Departure is the pinnacle and easily one of the great albums of the era or any other in jazz.  It's a shame that Hill, who died in 2007, is still  so under-recognized.

Andrew Hill:  Point of Departure (Blue Note, 1964)

1.  Refuge  12:12
2.  New Monastery  7:00
3.  Spectrum  9:42
4.  Flight 19  4:10
5.  Dedication  6:40

1998 remastered edition bonus tracks

6.  New Monastery (alternate take)  6:08
7.  Flight 19 (alternate take)  3:45
8.  Dedication (alternate take)  7:01

System of a Down: Toxicity

Even a casual glance at this blog should make it clear that easy labels to identify music are not part and parcel of what's on offer here.  So, when it comes to a band like System of a Down, the easy labeling of it as "Nu Metal" has no currency so far as this blogger is concerned.  Endless comparisons to Korn or Limp Bizkit or whether SOAD has any comparable elements to other metal genres don't register.  System of a Down is a great band on its own merits.

And, Toxicity is the embodiment of the disparate elements that make System a great listening experience.  The deliciously crunchy riffs from guitarist, vocalist and songwriter Daron Malakian; the sturdy and deft support of bassist Shavo Odadjian and drummer John Dolmayan; the unique vocalizations from lead singer Serj Tankian; the interesting and memorable lyrics, melodies and harmonies between Tankian and Malakian; the silliness and the heaviness; the racing tempos and the delicate acoustic moments; and even the Armenian-inflected endtro after the closer "Aerials"—the sheer diversity, precision, politicized commentary, and the power of presentation makes Toxicity a truly great record.

It's not hard to find plenty of information about this Los Angeles-based band of Armenian-Americans, whose 1998 self-titled debut is a pretty great record that was largely overlooked.  Three years later, though, that all changed with this album, which moves seamlessly with well-placed sequencing and has an excellent sound thanks to noted producer Rick Rubin, whose American Recordings label released this album.

Toxicity roars through its first several tunes, including "Prison Song," which critiques the subject with a pretty typical no-holds-barred approach lyrically and musically; "Needles;" "Deer Dance;
 "Jet Pilot;" and the short, but explosive "X."  The song that grabbed most of the attention, "Chop Suey!" employs a lot of the abrupt tempo and rhythmic changes, movements from powerful speedy runs to contemplative interludes, and lyric matter about suicide that still seemed shocking to some people over a decade ago.

It's been suggested that whatever controversies came out regarding "Chop Suey!" were partly dictated by the difficult circumstances surrounding the terrorist attacks on the U.S. on 11 September 2001 and this album was released just a week prior.

If the rest of the album doesn't quite have the seamlessness of the first several tunes, it's more a testament to how great those pieces are rather than a lack of quality for the remainder.  "Bounce" is a silly, but needed, break from the head-pounding (and heart-pounding) intensity and seriousness of what comes before and it is a little surprising that some commentators really think it is about using a pogo stick at a party!

"Forest" is actually one of the great songs on this record, too, and has another of many great Malakian rhythms and a memorable chorus.  The latter is true for "Atwa," which balances a more ballad-like approach with some head-banging intensity accompanying its lines "You don't care about how I feel/I don't feel it anymore."  "Science" decries the reliance on the title subject and promotes spirituality (which Focus on the Family, believe it or not, pointed out was a contrast [well, hypocritical in their view, if anyone really cares who listens to SOAD, anyway!] to its overt sexual metaphors in "Bounce."

"Toxicity" has strong lyrics from Tankian and starts off with a mellower frame of mind with an excellent instrumental arrangement from Malakian and Odadjian before the pummeling "Psycho" roars through with its references to groupies and "cocaine crazy."  One could only imagine who doesn't know that world!  And, "Aerials" ends the album nicely, especially with that fascinating Armenian folk portion that doesn't have anything in the credits as to instrumentation and who plays what.  As a long-time lover of music from around the world (easily noted in this blog) and, specifically of the late Armenian duduk legend Djivan Gasparayan, I was really impressed by their inclusion of this "hidden" piece at the end of a fantastic album.

System of a Down went on to issue three more albums, including the surprisingly excellent "outtakes" album, Steal This Album! and the complementary Mezmerize and Hypnotize, which both were released in 2005.  A hiatus ensued that has only been interrupted by occasional live performances that include some in Europe this summer.  Whether or not further albums are coming, the group has a short, but impressive, catalog of excellent albums. 

Giacomo Puccini: La Bohème

As with the blues, opera is only a recent, budding (but rapidly so) interest.  Moreover, as an admitted bargain hunter, YHB has mainly been dipping the proverbial toe in the water with budget-label productions.

That said, the Opera D'Oro imprint of the Columbia River Entertainment Group based in Portland, Oregon has released many older recordings of classic operas.  This one, of Giacomo Puccini's masterpiece La Bohème, dates from a performance in July 1969 in Rome by the RAI Symphony Orchestra and Chorus of Rome, conducted by Thomas Schippers.

The star performers on this 4-act, 2-disc set are Modena, Italy natives and childhood compatriots Mirella Freni (1935-    ) and Luciano Pavarotti (1935-2007), who play Mimi, a sickly seamstress, and Rodolfo, a struggling poet, who live in the same ramshackle Paris building and whose passionate love affair, brought forth on a cold Christmas Eve, is torn asunder by his jealous nature and the fights that ensue. 

Comedic foils, Musetta and Marcello, whose relationship has also been strained, try to help reconcile the lovers, which is finally accomplished at the end of the third act.  Alas, while the final fourth act has Rodolfo and Marcello jovially musing on the nature of women, Musetta brings a dying Mimi to his garret. 

While Musetta and a friend of Rodolfo's go to pawn possessions to summon a doctor, the lovers tenderly talk about their relationship and Mimi softly goes to sleep.  As Rodolfo covers the windows with blankets to keep out a bitter draft and then returns to check on his lover, he is shocked to learn that she passed away in her sleep.

It is easy with modern digital recording technology and superior playback equipment to be disappointed in the quality of the sound from a performance taped almost 45 years ago.  Not one to get too caught up in the admittedly attractive aspects of advanced sound quality (after all, to hear, as just one example, Louis Armstrong play with the Hot Fives in recordings from the mid-1920s is a thrilling experience no matter how primitive the technology), the orchestra and singers are outstanding.

As a novice, the only recognizable name to this listener was that of the "King of the High Cs," Pavarotti, who is stunning in his power, clarity and evocation of emotion.  Freni is a wonder, as well, and the support provided by Rita Talarico as Musetta and Sesto Bruscantino as Marcello is beautifully rendered.

Puccini, of course, created some of opera's most endearing works in addition to La Bohème, including Madama Butterfly, Turandot and Tosca, all of which have been enjoyed by this listener within the last year or more.  La Bohème, which followed the well-known Manon Lescaut (1893), in its premiere at Turin in 1896 was not particularly highly regarded by critics and audiences.  Over time, though, it has become the most popular of the maestro's impressive catalog of operatic works.  Beautiful, impressionable melodies abound and the power, fullness and range from tragic to comic themes in the orchestration are remarkable.

As this listener becomes more familiar with opera, it will be useful to revisit the works that have been explored in these formative stages once more exposure and seasoning has set in as well as to see performances live (having only done so twice and these close to twenty years ago.)  For now, La Bohéme has had a strong impact on this developing neophyte enthusiast.

The Classical Tradition of Iran: The Santur

For those, like this blogger's father-in-law, the preferred term is "Persian," to hearken back to the millenia of tradition emanating from Persia and its empire, to disclaim the recent use of the term "Iran" for the homeland, and, since 1979, to distance themselves as far as possible from the regime that has dominated the country.

In any case, whether it is the fine craftsmanship of the Persian rug, the gorgeous Sufi poetry of Rumi and the masterful work of Omar Khayyam and much more, the cultural legacy of Persia is wide and deep.  This is no less true of its music and this disc from the French label Harmonia Mundi, the third in a series on Persian classical music, focuses on the vigorous and rich sounds of the santur.

The immensely helpful liner notes by Nelly Caron give much information on the music and instrument, noting that the santur might well go back to the ancient Assyrians, well over 2,500 years ago, though the most accurate dating goes back to about the 1200s A.D.  The dulcimer-like instrument has 72 metal strings, at four per note, in two segments lying across nine bridges.  It ranges through three octaves and a key tunes the 72 pegs on one side.  A wooden plectrum is used to strike the string and the curvature of its end adds to the particular sound made when the santur is played.

Accompanying, on one of the two songs, the playing of the santur is the percussion instrument known variously as the zarb or tombak or dombak.  The goblet-like drum has a wood body with a head made of sheepskin or goatskin.  The zarb is placed on an angle on the lap and the fingers and palm are used to make tapping, clicking and other percussive sounds, with some players even wearing metal rings to create an unusual timbre.

The two pieces on this recording last just over 20 minutes each and are known as dastgah, a particular melodic type based on a modal system, in which series of modes, or scales, are put together  to create the dastgah.  The selection of melodic sequences is up to the perfromer and, in addition, there is a great deal of room for improvisation in bridges linking the sequences, called gusheh, as well as during the sequences themselves.  For example, the first piece "Dastgah-e Rastpanjgah" has twenty-three named sequences, while the second work, "Dastgah-e Segah" has twenty-one.

The santur is masterfully played by Majid Kiani, born in Tehran in 1941 and trained at the university there in what is known as the radif, or the total range of Persian classical music.  As Caron indicates, Kiani plays with remarkable clarity, as well as great precision and mindboggling skill.  On the second dastgah, the zarb is played by Djamchid Chemirani, who accompanies the soloist with great sensitivity and ability.

The stateliness, grace and emotive power of this music is a living reminder of the immense and time-honored tradition of Persian classical music.  Whatever has occurred politically in Iran in recent decades, the heritage of this beautiful music is a reminder that one should not judge a people solely by its political and religious leadership (nor by the recent so-called reality show, Shahs of Sunset.)  This is music that will long outlive all of the shallow stereotypes of the latter.

The Classical Tradition of Iran, Vol. III: The Santur (Harmonia Mundi, 1993)

1.  Dastgah-e Rastpanjgah  20:20
2.  Dastgah-e Segah  20:49

Peter Brötzmann Octet: Machine Gun

As an expression of pure energy music in what is generally called "free jazz," there is nothing quite like the bracing blasts of Machine Gun, the landmark May 1968 recording by the German saxophonist Peter Brötzmann and seven colleagues.

To those who enjoy so-called "free jazz," emanating, perhaps, with the 1960 Ornette Coleman album of that name and the post-1961 work of Cecil Taylor and the 1965 Ascension recording by John Coltrane and just about anything put out by the powerful Albert Ayler between 1964 and 1967, this album seems to have something of a lineage.  Yet, it has its own distinctiveness, coming during the politically and socially-charged world of Europe in that first half of 1968 by musicians who were jettisoning the more imitative work of most European jazz musicians to that point.

The title Machine Gun was bestowed on Brötzmann by the American trumpeter Don Cherry, who worked with Coleman on those essential early Contemporary and Atlantic recordings in the late 1950s and early 1960s and then went off to Europe, where he made memorable recordings with Ayler and on his own.  Cherry found an apt metaphor for Brötzmann's particularly rough and brutal sound, one clearly informed by Ayler's style of playing, but with its own determined intensity and sound.  Brötzmann had a few hundred copies of the vinyl LP pressed for sale at shows and, some four years later, Gost Jebers released the record with his new and highly-influential Free Music Production label.

Joining with the leader in the horn section was Willem Breuker, who became far better known later for music that was in a very different place than his early free work, and Englishman Evan Parker.  A glorious noise it was that this trio made with melody virtually absent, starting with staccato blasts that sound much like what Ayler and Coltrane (especially in his opening movement on Meditations from 1966) were doing, before launching into sheer blasts of noise including the relentless pounding from Han Bennink and Sven-Ake Johansson.  There is a relatively mellow section featuring bowing from the two bassists Peter Kowald and Buschi Niebergall and it's a wonder that pianist Fred Van Hove could even find a way to play amidst much of the cacophony, but his playing does leaven the frenetic activity to a significant extent.  Finally, towards the end there is a strange R & B like section that the horns play that completely changes the nature of the tune, which concludes with the staccato riff that opened the piece.

For those who just can't get enough of the 15-minute version (and second take) of this magnum opus, the album includes the third take that spans over 17-minutes.  Those entranced, as this blogger was, by the feast of pure noise found in these versions can also seek out the sole recorded live version, which, coming from a March 1968 festival date, predates the studio work, and which was released with the mesmerizing "Fuck de Boere" [a crude politicized statement about the horrors of South African apartheid] in 1970.

With the two takes of Van Hove's "Responsible," there is a greater variety of dynamics, including samba-like rhythms, Carribean-inflected melodies, quiet free interludes and the like that are a nice change of pace from the unyielding intensity of the title tune and a reminder that free jazz players are often perfectly capable of melody and more reflective sounds.

Then, there is Breuker's "Music for Han Bennink," which has a crazy short intro head arrangement before allowing the drummers a little interlude and then back to the wild "melody" which then subsides before launching into another barrage that seems a variation on that opening head.  Bennink follows with a solo that shows his great talent (a much later duet with the great Cecil Taylor in the landmark 1988 series of recordings that pianist did in Germany will be featured here at some point) for a wide variety of dynamics on his apparently basic kit.  After some more thrashing, there is a very mellow and melodic section about half way through lasting a few seconds before more screeching and screaming and general mayhem resumes.  Van Hove gets a chance to end the piece with a solo, sounding a little like Taylor, but without quite the density and the percussiveness of the latter, and it is a memorable performance, only briefly accompanied by some percussion effects.

Machine Gun is probably only slightly less jarring now than it was 45 years ago.  While Brötzmann has continued to be very active and committed to exploring variations of the noisy, atonal pallette of sounds found on this recording, especially in the sublime quartet Last Exit, which will soon be featured here, he has also pursued some less abrasive, rapid and pounding styles of music that still feature his truly iconoclastic sound and determined disinterest in studio recording.

This recording will, however, be his signature—a determined and purposeful clarion call to a turbulent Europe that, in 1968, was consumed with war, riots and other examples of disorder and change.  Anyone interested in "free jazz" and its manifestations in Europe really ought to start with this seminal and bracing record.

Peter Brötzmann Octet:  Machine Gun (Free Music Production, 1968)

1.  Machine Gun (Second Take)  14:57
2.  Machine Gun (Third Take)  17:13
3.  Responsible (For Jan Van de Ven)  (First Take)  10:00
4.  Responsible (For Jan Van de Ven) (Second Take)  8:12
5.  Music for Han Bennink 1  11:22

Chris Watson: Outside the Circle of Fire

This blog simply posits that music is organized sound.  In the case of Chris Watson's remarkable Outside the Circle of Fire, the sound is produced by animals in nature, captured by Watson's highly-advanced recording equipment and brilliant techniques of placement of microphones, and then edited into an album format.  This is certainly not music in the popular sense, but one could argue that it is quite musical.

As a statement on the back tray of the CD case observes, "these are the sounds of secret languages, particular events that have been recorded as close up as possible to try and reveal something of their individual beauty, rhythm, eloquence and sheer power."  Watson's adroit use of technology, his keen understanding of natural environments and the incredible patience this must have required waiting for the right moment to capture a particularized moment of sounds that could not otherwise be heard by humans make this a profound experience, if it can be accepted that these recordings of animals in nature are of music.

Watson first came to attention in the human music world as a founding member of the experimental "industrial" trio, Cabaret Voltaire.  From 1974, he and band mates Stephen Mallinder and Richard H. Kirk huddled in Watson's loft in the gritty industrial city of Sheffield, England with rudimentary tape machines, synthesizers, drum machines, bass and electric guitars, wind instruments and other material and forged an unusual world of sound that had song-like structures, but leavened (if that is the right word) with a wild admixture of harsh, abrasive, highly-treated sounds.  Not musicians in the traditional sense, the trio nonetheless created a way of making music wholly their own and, by the time they began recording for the indie label Rough Trade in 1978, they were getting some recognition.

Cabaret Voltaire issued a few albums, some EPs and several singles until Watson departed to take up a career as a television sound recordist.  Continuing in that line of work, he also formed a new group, the Hafler Trio, which made highly experimental and idiosyncratic music over its long run.  But, Watson's later recognition came with his staggering sound work with natural environments as shown in television and documentaries.  When the very interesting and eclectic Touch label began releasing some of his independent work, Watson had a new portfolio of several awesome recordings of which this an important entry.

From Africa to South and Latin America to the British Isles, Outside the Circle of Fire consists of twenty-two pieces capturing animals of the land, sea and air making their music in a variety of settings.  The opening piece of a cheetah resting under a baobab tree in Zimbabwe sounds much like some of the electronic equipment Cabaret Voltaire employed in its early experimental days.  Other pieces are of hippopotami surfacing on a river in Kenya, birds chattering in the forests of Costa Rica, the roar of a stag in a Scottish forest, vultures feeding on a zebra corpse, also in Kenya, and many other fascinating environmental soundscapes, as well.

Most of these works were recorded in the middle 1990s, with one going back to 1983, consisting of a group of kittiwakes at nesting sites near a castle in northern England, and others coming in the late 80s and early 90s.  One was even the sound of beetles making sounds in the oaken beams of Watson's home, so he quickly set up his recording devices and captured the busy work of those creatures.

As noted above, many of these sounds are reminiscent of the electronic work Watson had done with Cabaret Voltaire--with rhythms, tone, dynamics and even melody that evoke some of that mid-70s to early 80s experimentation done by three humans in their natural habitat.  So, maybe the transition from that to these ambient nature recordings isn't that far removed.

But, is it music?

John Zorn: Mysterium

While the amazing John Zorn is most known for his notorious noisemaking projects in free jazz and exploratory classical composition, he has some remarkable recordings that are less intense in volume and sound, if not less innovative and experimental in content.

One of these is the brief, but memorable, Mysterium, a 2005 release on Zorn's Tzadik label that finds him creating three varied and highly interesting pieces with a cadre of sixteen excellent musicians that tap into various magical expressions of the feminine.

The first piece, "Orphée," finds a stunning combination of brilliantly-played flute by Tara O'Connor underscored by David Shively's well-placed percussion, Stephen Gosling's ephmeral celese and keyboard, Lois Martin's sturdy viola, and the background atmospherics of June Han's harp and Ikue Mori's electronics coming together to take the listener on a nine-minute musical excursion to the mythic underworld of the Orpheus legend, steeped deeply in the inspiration of, as Zorn's liner notes from the airport in Toulouse waiting for a quick flight to Paris make known, the work of Claude Debussy, but with the modern touches with which Zorn excels.  The composer also provides a typically eclectic list of those French artists whose impressionistic works, not just in music, but in art, film, and literature, animated this fascinating work.

To this listener, untutored in the specifics of classical composition, the minimalist female choral work, "Frammenti del Sappho," is the highlight of the record.  With the work of the Rustavi Choir just recently highlighted in this blog and earlier appreciation given to the work of the polyphonic mastery of female Bulgarian choral music, this piece fits in nicely as a complement and contrast.  Zorn noted the interest he took in the very different translation of Sappho's poems by Anne Carson and this blogger has that volume buried in a box up in the attic, having read it not too long before Zorn created this beautiful piece.  The five singers perform with perfection and Zorn's take on the Renaissance's motet form is traditionally harmonic, as he explains in this liners, yet he adds the twist of creating over two dozen sections named for the letters of the Greek alphabet.  Zorn felt that it is "one of the most breathtakingly beautiful pieces in my catalog" and it is certainly one of the most striking and memorable pieces this blogger has heard from the composer.

Finally, there is a piece in three movements called "Walpurgisnacht," or "Witches' Sabbath" and featuring the string trio of two violins and a cello.  This is a work, influenced by the work of Anton Webern, that is generaly harsher, faster-paced, and heavier in dynamics.  The composer had intended to create only two movements, after abandoning an earlier attempt at a first one, but then went back and completed the third, which is a very soft, slow and disquieting conclusion to a striking piece.  Overall the work's mannerisms, with plucking, intense bowing and a complex sense of interplay between the trio of instruments conjures up a sense of the wild ways of witchcraft, which with the occult and mysticism, have been a continuing fascination for Zorn.

It is always a great pleasure to listen to the myriad ways in which John Zorn creates his own universe of diverse sounds and in the multivaried formats in which he presents them.  Mysterium is a record in the "John Zorn Composer Series," which finds him at both his most accsssible ("Frammenti del Sapho") and dense and challenging ("Walpurgisnacht") and, additionally has a crisp, clear and rich sound.  It is an experience that definitely rewards close attention.

John Zorn:  Mysterium (Tzadik, 2005)

1.  Orphée  9:07
2.  Frammenti del Sappho  13:28
3.  Walpurgisnacht  9:58

The Rustavi Choir: Georgian Voices

Formed in 1968 by Anzor Erkomaishvili, a folklorist and singer, The Rustavi Choir is an amazing all-male ensemble performing the dramatic and stately repertoire of vocal music from the republic of Georgia, most of it a capella, although others have some accompaniment on stringed instruments and dancers have also been part of the organization.  Unlike other ensembles, the Rustavi performs material from throughout the country, rather than specializes in the music of a particularly region or given ethnic group.

The 1989 album, Georgian Voices, another impressive release from the Elektra Nonesuch Explorer Series, takes fourteen selections from among 100 Georgian folk songs compiled by a record label from the Soviet Union (then only a couple of years away from revolution and dissolution.)  Producer Ted Levin worked with Erkomaishvili to winnow the wealth of material recorded between 1981 and 1988 to those pieces that appear on the album.  Given the significant appeal at the time of Les Mystere des Voix Bulgares, the project of Bulgarian female choral music that emerged from an Elektra Nonesuch album to stunning success, there are some obvious connections, most significantly the use of polyphony and the intersection of Western and Eastern influences.

Georgia' s position near the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea along the Caucasus places it at a nexus between Asia and Europe and the area was a flashpoint for centuries of political and military battling that has created the cultural and musical circumstances from which this album draws.  Levin's very informative liners trace the historical background of this extraordinary music, noting that Georgia's immediate neighbors in Armenia, Azerbaijan and Turkey all feature homophonic music, making this island of polyphony all the more remarkable, as it has tenaciously maintained its hold in its home country.

 

 

The types of songs include ones for plowing fields, general work, traveling or riding, a paean to a deceased child, religious chorales, and weddings, though the direct connection of the song to the original references have been lost in modern Georgian society.  They range from fast-tempo, very rhythmic pieces showcasing impressive vocal techniques like yodels and rapid melodic runs to solemn, emotional pieces with a drone setting the basis for solo performance.  The performers learn by ear and this is remarkable given the great complexity of the styles they develop and master.

 

Three-part harmony is commonplace in which an established rhythm is developed and then different chords are utilized by each part working with their independent melody, with improvisation also beigng utilized.  In some pieces, separate ensembles work their magic, so that a part might be sung by a trio of singers in a higher pitch, while a bass refrain is sung by another group.  In a work song, you might have one coterie of workers singing in one melodic line and another developing an independent one, with a slow tempo building in intensity in power over the course of the tune.

 

Levin concludes his excellent essay by noting a trip to a Soviet collective farm and enjoying a night of food, music, drinking and friendship, in which the connection of singing to the simple pleasures of the evening brought to his mind, "the Dionysian rites of ancient Greece . . . [and] the celebration of the vine and the fervent power of music lives on."

 

Georgian Voices is a powerful and uplifting record, showcasing the best of what a timeless folk music can be, even in a rapidly-changing modern world—and certainly the transformations in Georgia that began with the fall of the Soviet Union only a short time after the release of this record and in the two decades and more since must have provided even more in the way of challenges to preserving this music.

 

The Rustavi Choir:  Georgian Voices

 

1.  Tsmindao Chmerto  2:54

2.  Tshkenosnuri  1:49

3.  Mival Guriashi  2:11

4.  Ali-Pasha  2:02

5.  Orovela  5:25

6.  Lasgvash  2:21

7.  Odoya  4:07

8.  Hasanbegura  3:08

9.  Mirangula  3:13

10.  Chakrulo  5:04

11.  Sabodisho  3:32

12.  Lechkhmuri  Makruli  2:07

13.  Kebadi  1:54

14.  Guruli Naduri  4:41

The Music of Ornette Coleman: Something Else!!!!

This past week Jayne Cortez, who was Ornette Coleman's wife from 1954 to 1964, passed away. She was also a well-known poet and artist who had roots in the Watts neighborhood of Los Angeles, but spent her later years in New York, where she collaborated in spoken word and musical projects with her son by Coleman, Denardo, who has been a drummer for his father since he was just about ten years old.

It seems opportune, then, to have Ornette's first album be highlighted in this post, both because it was his debut recording and because one of the pieces was named for his then-wife. While his New York debut in Fall 1959 just before his first album for Atlantic, The Shape of Jazz to Come, which has been featured here, is legendary for its revolutionary reaction, negative and positive, in the jazz world, the recording of this record on the small Contemporary label in Los Angeles in February and March 1958 proves to be an important precursor to the splash later made in the world's jazz capital.

Coleman had been pursuing his unique and utterly "out" vision of music for several years and in almost complete obscurity in Los Angeles.  He was regarded as highly eccentric for his long hair and beard and his clothing style in addition to his music, which many musicians thought was a joke or a reflection of someone incapable of playing jazz as it had become standardized in the bop world; that is, according to the chord changes that guided the genre.

Though gigs were highly infrequent and often regarded with blatant hostility, there were a few musicians who were keyed in with what this visionary was doing.  Chief among these was his main foil, trumpeter Don Cherry, as well as drummer Billy Higgins, though there was also bassist Charlie Haden and drummer Ed Blackwell, who would later join Coleman's group.

 

Bass player Red Mitchell, though certainly not an "outside" player, was impressed with Coleman's compositions and got him an appointment with Contemporary's chief, Lester Koenig, to demonstrate his songwriting, not his playing.  But, Coleman's works proved to be too difficult for others to play, so the alto sax player, who used a plastic instrument because he didn't have the money for a standard sax, but kept the instrument even when he could afford the other because he liked the sound, auditioned the pieces himself.

 

To Koenig's everlasting credit, he signed Coleman for two albums, with the second recording being Tomorrow is the Question.  Koenig, who used excellent recording equipment for the era, had such names on his label as drummer Shelly Manne (whose LA jazz club, the Manne Hole, was a major venue for quite a period of time in the 60s and 70s), Art Pepper, Sonny Rollins and Cecil Taylor, the latter being as revolutionary as Coleman.

 

On the debut, there is a tension between Coleman's desire to break free of chordal restrictions, regulated time signatures and other conventions and his use of bassist Don Payne and pianist Walter Norris who, while playing well, were also performing in a bop style that clashed with the freer ideas of the other band members.  In fact, the piano was insisted upon by Koenig, who produced the album.  The instrument, which normally is so chordally oriented as to force other musicians to play the standard changes of the day, unless the pianist was Thelonious Monk or Cecil Taylor, was not featured on a Coleman recording again until his Sound Museum dual albums with the great Geri Allen.  There are some songs, like "Chippie" and "The Disguise" where identifiable signatures are definitely present and indicative of the transitional nature of the album.

 

Still, this is an excellent record, with tunes like "The Blessing" and the aforementioned "Jayne," revealing a fresh approach to the blues underpinnings of jazz that combined Coleman's Texas roots and long professional experience in blues and R & B settings in gigs played throughout the South in the later 1940s with his radical ideas that developed after coming to Los Angeles in the early 1950s.  One track is titled "When Will the Blues Leave?" and it is a tongue-in-cheek one, presumably, because they never have! 

 

Accounting for the conventional, but solid playing of Payne and Norris, with the pianist wisely keeping himself in a low profile, the telepathic melodic and harmonic interplay between Coleman and Cherry, which matured and blossomed over the next few years, was well advanced and Higgins proved to be an ideal drummer, who could discard standard time, but still provide the swing that makes this album work so well.

 

To this untrained and unschooled listener, Coleman's melodic bent has always created a feeling of playful inventiveness, rather than the powerful intensity of John Coltrane, who was a great admirer of the altoist.  In fact, when Coltrane recorded an Atlantic album with Coleman's sidemen (Cherry, Haden and Higgins) in 1960, it is notable that most of the tunes were from these early Contemporary Records, perhaps because they were not as free as what came later.

 

It would be a mistake to avoid these first two albums, thinking that the revolutionary nature of Ornette Coleman's music only began with his Atlantic recordings in late 1959.  To these ears, which were, indeed, first exposed to Coleman's music in 1990 with the album of Atlantic outtakes issued as The Art of the Improvsiers, starting with Something Else!!! and Tomorrow is the Question!! and then moving to the Atlantic albums is a great way to see the work-in-progress of Coleman's remarkable ideas. 

 

Let's hope that the 82-year old Coleman still has many more years of music and life in him--he is truly a living master of American music.

 

The Music of Ornette Coleman: Something Else!!!!

 

1.  Invisible  4:11

2.  The Blessing  4:45

3.  Jayne  7:17

4.  Chippie  5:37

5.  The Disguise  2:46

6.  Angel Voice  4:19

7.  Alpha  4:09

8.  When Will the Blues Leave?  4:58

9.  The Sphinx  4:13



Howlin' Wolf: Howlin' Wolf/Moanin' in the Moonlight

The great Howlin' Wolf, born Chester Burnett in White Station, Missisippi in 1910 and who died in 1976 at age 65, was a massive 6'3" and about 300 pounds and his imposing physical stature was enhanced by his imposing growling voice and his manic stage presence.  Songs associated with him that have become legendary blues masterpieces include "Smokestack Lightning;" "Back Door Man;" "Killing Floor;" and "How Many More Years."

He began his career in the 1930s, working as a solo performer and in bands throughout the South before serving a two-year Army stint during World War II, though he was not sent overseas.  He farmed and continued performing for the remainder of the 1940s and was finally discovered by Sam Phillips, who was later instrumental in launching the careers of early rock legends like Carl Perkins, Jerry Lee Lewis, Johnny Cash and Elvis Presley.

In 1950, nearing 40, Wolf cut his first sides for Phillips and shortly afterwards made his first recordings for Chicago's famed Chess Records.  He was a bit of a free agent those first couple of years, but became an exclusive Chess artist from 1953 when he settled in Chicago.  With singles being the medium of the era, Wolf had several top ten R&B tunes during the Fifties and it wasn't until 1959 that his first LP, Moanin' in the Moonlight was released and it consisted of singles dating back to his early years with Chess.

Three years later, he followed with 1962's Howlin' Wolf and there was a distinct difference in approach for this record.  Whereas with Moanin' Wolf wrote all the songs, save "Evil," written by blues stalwart Willie Dixon (another track, "Forty Four" was credited to Wolf but was composed by Roosevelt Sykes), the eponymous album featured only two of Wolf's tracks and another by St. Louis Jimmy Oden, with the remainder penned by Dixon.

For the new CD generation, Chess issued a two-fer in 1986 combining the two legendary albums, making this one of the great blues discs of all.  The seemingly-strange aspect about this is the sequencing, with Moanin' placed after Howlin' Wolf, but the playing on the latter is just incredible and Wolf's gravelly singing is at its best.

Yet, the revelation, especially for the novice like YHB, is the staggering playing of lead guitarist Hubert Sumlin, who is only really known to true aficionados.  Discovering his keening, piercing style, full of unexpected twists and turns of rhythmic invention and powerful soloing.  Other great musicians include Dixon on bass, pianist Spann and future giant Buddy Guy, who played bass on the Howlin' Wolf record.  Wolf was a formidable talent, whose singing was rough, but also finely honed and emotionally resonant, but he also had incredible sidemen and the combination makes this dual package a great way to get introduced, as this listener did, to the phenomenon that was Howlin' Wolf. 

Georg Friedrich Handel: Water Music and Music for the Royal Fireworks

Though a German by birth, Georg Friedrich Handel became British by virtue of his move to England following the accession of Prince Georg, Elector of Hanover, to the throne of Great Britian as King George I.  For nearly a half century, Handel became a preeminent composer of baroque music, completing a vast array of works of various types, including his famed oratorios, concerto grossos, operas, and much more.

Among his best-known works are "Water Music" and "Music for the Royal Fireworks," which came over three decades apart.  The first was composed just a few years after Handel settled in England and was made for a pleasure cruise for the king on the River Thames which took place on 17 July 1717.  Fifty musicians on a barge performed the piece while the king's party was on the nearby royal craft.  The work was so well received that the sovereign ordered the musicians to perform the work three times and they were undoubtedly worn out by the three hours of playing.

In the case of the latter work, it was created for King George II for a performance at Green Park in London on 27 April 1749 to celebrate the treaty that ended the War of the Austrian Succession, a conflict that raged through much of Europe for the preceding eight years.  There had been a performance six days before at Vauxhall Gardens that drew 12,000 people and there was a three-hour wait as carriages vied to reach the gardens for the concert.

When played at Green Park to support the massive display of fireworks, the music overshadowed the pyrotechnics and "Music for the Royal Fireworks" became another masterpiece for the composer.  Because both it and "Water Music" were written for outdoor performances, the two pieces are often paired together in concert programs and on recordings.

The German budget label Pilz issued the first two of the three suites of "Water Music" and the concerto grosso, "Music for the Royal Fireworks," in 1993 along with a second disc of the fifth, sixth and seventh concerto grossos.  The music is filled with beautiful and graceful melodies, stately rhythms and the baroque majesty that, while different from that of Bach, who was Handel's contemporary, proved with his fellow composer to be the acme of the music of the age.

These two great works were performed by the Süddeutsch Philharmonie or Southwest German Orchestra in Konstanz on Lake Constance where Germany, Switzerland and Austria meet.  While this orchestra is probably not considered "world class" by connoisseurs, and amateur like YHB enjoys the performance perfectly fine.  In any case, the brilliance of Handel's famed works shines through.

Shakuhachi—The Japanese Flute

This 1976 recording by Kohachiro Miyata, a master of the Japanese hollowed-out bamboo flute called the shakuhachi, is staggeringly beautiful and evocative.  Even though the instrument appears simple, five holes and no keys, the technique of covering the holes, moving it closer to or further away the player and various methods of blowing provide layers of complexity and richness that belie the appearance.

The shakuhachi, along with the koto and taiko drums, are the quintessential instruments of classic Japanese music, but this has the most contemplative and emotional resonance by far.  Miyata's playing has been hailed for its purity of tone and evocation of emotion and these five solo pieces are simply gorgeous.

The first, "Honshirabe," is, as explained in David Loeb's helpful liner notes often used as a prelude to a concert and is, consequently, the shortest piece on the album, giving a good introduction and groundwork for what is to come.  With "Sanya," there is a portion with a faster tempo, while "Tsuru no Sugomori" is often used for virtuosos to demonstrate their skill at creating bird sounds (the piece refers to cranes), while it is the haunting nature of the song that is most affecting.

"Shika no Tone" is also evocative of the animal world, concering the calling of deer, and is one of the best-known pieces in the shakuhachi repertoire, as David Loeb's helpful liners indicate.  The closing piece, "Akita Sugagaki," refers to a remote portion of Japan and this sense of distance is a perfect theme or metaphor for the plaintive sounds of the instrument, with the piece consisting of variations on melodies introduced in the tune.

The album was recorded in New York during the first tour of the Ensemble Nipponia, of which Miyata was a member, to the United States and it was his debut recording in this country.  Though this record is 35 years old, Miyata is still an active player now in his early seventies. 

This blogger has had the opportunity to own and enjoy several dozen Nonesuch Explorer albums over the years, but this one is certainly one of the best and most affecting.

Shakuhachi—The Japanese Flute

1.  Honshirabe  3:50
2.  Sanya  6:17
3.  Tsuru no Sugamori  6:08
4.  Shika no Tone  7:32
5.  Akita Sugagaki  9:30