Dastan Ensemble with Shahram Nazeri: Homage to Molavi (Rumi)

This wasn't chosen based on what came before (Van Morrison's mystical Astral Weeks), but it is a nice unintentional pairing.  Through Eternity is a fantastic rendering of the mystical and spiritual music of the Sufi branch of Islam and devoted to the great Persian poet, jurist and theologian Jalalaldin Muhammad Balkhi Molvai, or Rumi, recorded by the Dastan Ensemble of Persian musicians accompanied by the superb vocalist Shahram Nazeri at a concert in Washington, D.C. in 1997.

Rumi was born in 1207 in what is now Afghanistan within the Persian empire and died in Turkey at age 66.  Theology was a family occupation, but Molavi added work as a judge and mystical poet to his life's work, the latter coming to the fore when Rumi was in his late thirties and met Shams Tabrizi, a figure of some mystery who is said to have mentored the younger man in the mysteries of Sufism.

Afterwards, Molavi became a prolific poet, composing some 2,500 ghazals, a poetic form usually between 5 and 15 couplets, dedicated the Shams Tabrizi, another 25,000 rhyming couplets known as the Masnavi, and 1,600 quatrains called the Rubaiyat (not the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, a Persian poet, astronomer and mathematician who lived a century or so prior to Rumi.)

Rumi's poetry speaks often of "love," but this is code for the relationship between the believer and the Creator, not between people and there are many other similarly "coded" metaphors, including the drinking of wine and the resulting drunkenness that symbolizes the ecstasy of mystical love.  The beautiful flow and smooth structures of his poetry, even rendered into English from Farsi, is also remarkable and YHB had the pleasure of reading Rumi's works some twenty years ago.

This gorgeous tribute to Molavi by the Dastan Ensemble is framed around the incredible vocal work of Shahram Nazeri, known as a preeminent singer of both Sufi and Persian classical music.  His clear and strong voice is highlighted by the demanding staccato (if it can be called that) embellishments that are a centerpiece of Persian vocalizing. 

Nazeri is backed by the excellent ensemble of Hamid Motebassem on the lute-like tar, the backbone of Persian classical music and setar, the latter being the sitar of north Indian classical music; Hossein Behroozi-Nia on the barbat, another lute-like instrument known as the oud in Arabic-speaking countries; Kayham Kalhor on the setar and the kamancheh, the latter being the original fiddle that is the great ancestor of those instruments found later in Asia and Europe; and Pejman Hadadi, on the tombak, a drum in the shape of a goblet, and the daf, a Sufi ceremonial instrument that is a large frame drum with rows of metal rings on the inside to make a distinctive ringing percussive sound.

This concert focuses on two types of Persian modal structures: the Bayat-e-Esfahan and the Mahur, with five pieces performed in the first and a longer single work from the second.  The first track "Dar Asheghee Peeceede'am" (Intertwined in Love) uses twenty-one couplets from Rumi.  The last piece, ""Del Meeravad Ze Dastam" (My Heart is Slipping from My Grasp) takes a much shorter sampling from the work of another masterful Persian poet, Hafez, who lived in the century following Rumi, but who had similar thematic concerns.

Persian music is among the most majestic of any in the world and this a performance by true masters of the Sufi devotional form, rendering sound in a fashion that does great justice to the spirit of the Sufi poetic paragons of Rumi and Hafez.

Charles Mingus: Epitaph

Having just finished Tonight at Noon, an interesting and well-written account by Sue Graham Mingus of her years with jazz composer and bassist par excellence Charles Mingus, this seemed like a good time to highlight a project that she and Andrew Homzy, director of the jazz program at Montreal's Concordia University, developed as Homzy worked with Mingus' original manuscripts kept by Sue Mingus.  Then, composer Gunther Schuller was brought in to conduct a concert in 1989, that was a reworking of Mingus' ill-fated and incomplete Epitaph and which was released on Columbia Records in 1990.

Mingus had attempted to create an unusual recording in 1962 that led to a disastrous scenario captured on The Complete Town Hall Concert.  Essentially, the promoter felt the performance was a standard concert and Mingus claimed it was an in-process public rehearsal.  At one point, with copyists scrambling to write down last-minute instructions from Mingus and tension growing, the volatile leader yelled to the assemblage to "get your money back" from the promoter.

This was the first recording of Mingus' music that this blogger owned, having purchased it when it came out.  Then, came the memorable experience of seeing Epitaph performed live at the Hollywood Bowl with Branford Marsalis, then at the peak of his success, opening with a trio.  Having found online the Los Angeles Times review by a less-than-impressed Leonard Feather, this blogger's enjoyment of the concert and the record must be chalked up to naivete, having only been a greenhorn jazz listener of about a year or so by that point.

Regardless of how much this music was reconstructed by Homzy based on a spectrum of material left behind by Mingus that ranged from nearly non-existent to complete, it is a fascinating sampling of the spirit of the man and his multi-faceted and highly complex and creative approach to jazz composition.

The two-disc set was recorded at Alice Tully Hall and the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts in New York on 3 June 1989 and the orchestra of thirty musicians included half a dozen who were either at the 1962 rehearsal or were wanted to perform the piece by Mingus. 

Among the veterans who played at the 1989 concert were trombonist Britt Woodman, trumpeters Snooky Young, Jack Walrath and Lew Soloff, alto saxophonist John Handy, tenor sax player George Adams, and pianists Sir Roland Hanna and John Hicks.  Younger players included trumpeter Randy Brecker and Wynton Marsalis, altoist Jerome Richardson, vibraphonist Karl Berger, and guitarist John Abercrombie among others.  The ensemble performs well, navigating through some challenging orchestration of the kind that marked some of Mingus' finest work, such as the amazing The Black Saint and the Sinner Lady (1963) that was highlighted here previously.

The biggest crowd reaction comes with a spirited rendition of a classic Mingus piece "Better Git It In Your Soul,' but there are plenty of other fine moments, including "Moods in Mambo,"Monk, Bunk & Vice Versa (Osmotin')," and "The Children's Hour of Dream," and "Ballad (In Other Words, I Am Three)," all of which are emblematic of Mingus' particular talent for creating a large ensemble sound that merged so many different musical facets with striking uses of instrument clusters and elements of blues, bop, orchestral music and other resources in imaginative and creative ways.

The booklet has a short essay by Homzy about the circumstances surrounding Mingus' creation over years of Epitaph and the 1962 misadventure, followed by a much-longer and occasionally highly-technical "guide" to the work by Schuller.  The latter concluded by observing that "this recording, while not the perfect realization of Epitaph—can that ever be achieved?—is an enthusiastic, dedicated, loving recreation."

That it is and, although it may be true that Mingus' drive and talent for pushing musicians might have made this recording more lively and bolder had he lived to conduct it, it is a singular achievement, for which Sue Mingus, Homzy, Schuller, and the talented ensemble of musicians deserve much credit.  Obviously, in the end, Charles Mingus' tremendous compositional gifts are at the heart of what makes Epitaph his masterpiece, even if unrealized during his lifetime.

Van Morrison: Astral Weeks

When a friend offered an invitation, somewhere around 1985 or so, to go to a Van Morrison concert, this blogger hadn't been all that aware of the Irish musician's work, although you couldn't listen to a rock station without hearing, with regularity, classic songs like Them's "Gloria," or Morrison's "Brown Eyed Girl" "Domino" or "Moondance."

The concert proved to be an excellent one, with Morrison singing well and working with a fine, tight band.  The big surprise, though, was having Mose Allison as the opening act.  Not having been at all familiar with Allison's work, his performance was fantastic and fun.

To get familiar with what Morrison was doing at the time, his new album, "A Sense of Wonder" was purchased and it proved to be very enjoyable.  But, the next acquisition went far beyond that--1968's "Astral Weeks" was basically revelatory.

Coming on the heels of the major success of "Brown Eyed Girl" and a major spat with the Bang record label, the record, released by Warner Brothers, was a determined move towards something more spiritual and contemplative.  It was also unlike anything being done at the time, in terms of Morrison's lyrical content, his soulful singing, and the remarkable band assembled for the session.

In fact, it has been said that Morrison had almost no interaction with the performers on the record, which include some of the greatest jazz musicians on the planet in the amazing Richard Davis on bass and drummer Connie Kay.  Davis, for example, noted in interviews that Morrison spent most of his time in an open booth to lay down his vocals and guitar and hardly spoke to him.  Then again, Morrison has been known for being mercurial and "difficult," although it may also have been that, because he and the band members had never met and were not at all familiar with each other musically, this had more to do with the way events transpired in the studio.

Whatever happened (or didn't) in the lightning quick sessions in New York--the record was made in under two days--"Astral Weeks" is an album brimming with unusual instrumental touches and flourishes, Morrison's transcendental, mystical lyrics and passionate singing, and a cache of songs that, while not the hits that came before and afterward, are just as memorable in their own, covert fashion.

It's actually hard to call any one a standout, given the consistency of excellence on the album, but the opening title track is truly a great song, establishing a tone for the album with its folk, jazz and other instrumental elements fluidly accompanying Morrison's stream-of-consciousness lyrics--the combination leading to an ecstatic conclusion that is really something to behold.  The beautiful "Beside You," has a gorgeous melancholic opening and Morrison's powerful and affecting singing reaches emotional peaks that are quite amazing.

"Sweet Thing" has a great guitar and bas opening before Morrison comes in with another evocative vocal that harmonizes so well with the instruments, including Kay's deft use of cymbals and a swelling use of strings.  "Cyprus Avenue," reflects on Morrison's youth in his hometown Belfast and has an unusual, but highly effective, harpsichord, with, as always, Davis's gorgeous bass playing standing out.

It may be the shortest track, but "The Way Young Lovers Do" has a thrilling combination of sounds with its insistent use of strings and brass, Kay's perfect timekeeping, Davis's rich bass, and Morrison's fine melodies coming together for a stunning, if too brief, performance.  "Madame George" appears to be something of a complement to "Cyprus Avenue" in terms of its impressionistic lyrics reflecting Morrison's Belfast connotations, as well, perhaps, in terms of tempo and the richness of its instrumentation.

"Ballerina" is another languid ballad with the band playing understated behind Morrison's keening and emotive vocals, highlighted by his drawn-out enunciation of the title.  The closer, "Slim Slow Slider" was evidently something of a late inclusion to the session for timing reasons and it does have that feel, especially as the tune suddenly fades out with John Payne's soprano ranging into higher tones and Kay suddenly tapping out a quiet and fervent conclusion, indicating that there wasn't much idea of what to do with the piece to end it.  Still, it is a very intimate piece with acoustic guitar, a soprano sax and Morrison's singing and it is very effective.

Credit should also be given to producer Lewis Merenstein, who had an extensive jazz background for Warner Brothers, and who evidently was moved to tears by Morrison's demos and then came up with the idea to pair the singer with the great Richard Davis.  Merenstein then brought in Connie Kay, guitarist Jay Berliner, and percussionist and vibraphonist Warren Smith, Jr. 

In a 2008 interview, Merenstein stated that Davis was the key player on "Astral Weeks," the underpinning that held it all together and this definitely resonates for the listener, who has heard the bassist on a number of jazz records by Eric Dolphy, Oliver Nelson, Elvin Jones, Andrew Hill and others and who saw the great bassist at Catalina Bar and Grill back in the mid-Nineties.  Merenstein also has interesting things to say about Morrison's "innocence" when he went in to make the record and really not knowing what he was doing and also notes that it was his idea to label side one "In the Beginning" and side two "Afterwards," an affectation that Morrison didn't like, but that Merenstein felt reflected something reactive in his thinking about this remarkable album.  To read the interview, click here.

Van Morrison:  Astral Weeks (Warner Brothers, 1968)

1.  Astral Weeks  7:00
2.  Beside You  5:10
3.  Sweet Thing  4:10
4.  Cyprus Avenue  6:50
5.  The Way Young Lovers Do  3:10
6.  Madame George  9:25
7.  Ballerina  7:00
8.  Slim Slow Slider  3:20

Béla Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra/The Miraculous Mandarin/Two Pictures

Béla Bartok (1881-1945) and Franz Liszt (1811-1886) are the best-known composers from Hungary, though they came from very different eras, had varied stylistic concerns, and were dissimilar in other ways. 

Bartok came from a town in what is now Romania, but from Hungarian and German parentage, and his father was an amateur musician (working as the head of an agricultural college) while his mother provided him his first piano lessons. 

After his father died when Bartok as a boy, his mother took up teaching at Bratislava in what is now Slovakia, bordering Hungary and Austria.  Though the young man could have studied in Vienna, the great music center, he chose to go to Budapest to continue his musical education. 

In his mid-twenties he began teaching in that city's Academy of Music and soon immersed himself in the folk music of Hungary and nearby areas, including Romania.  Because of the remarkable political, social and cultural history of southeastern Europe, including its many years as part of the Ottoman Empire emanating from Turkey, the cross-breeding of music there with antecedents from the Middle East and from Europe allowed Bartok to develop a composing style that reflected those influences.  His work included such pieces as "Fifteen Hungarian Peasant Songs" and "Romanian Folk Dances."

This Sony Classics recording under its "Essential Classics" banner was an early purchase, back in the first years of the 90s, for this listener of Bartok's music.  It presents orchestral works from very different eras of the composer's career, ranging from the early "Two Pictures from Orchestra" from 1910 to a suite for a dance and pantomime called "The Miraculous Mandarin" from about a decade later to the masterpiece "Concerto for Orchestra" that proved to be one of his last works, dating from 1943, after Bartok fled war-torn Hungary for the United States.  The performances by the famed conductor Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra date from 1962 and 1963.

The latter work, spanning about 37 minutes, seems like a contradiction in his titling, but the composer observed that, while a concerto typically highlights a solo instrument with an orchestral accompaniment, the virtuosity of both justify the use of the term.  In any case, this five-movement piece has moments of mystery, exoticism, unusual groupings of instruments, vivid emotionalism in the melodies, and compelling tonal colorations and textures. 

"The Miraculous Mandarin" begins with a dramatic swirling of sounds from strings and brass and maintains its frenetic tempo and sounds for the first minute and a half in what was then a controversial tale involving a woman forced into prostitution and the attempt of a mandarin to take her away from her pimps before it moves into a different type of dramatic sound, involving what might be car horns and other reflections of an urban environment, leavened with some quieter passages involving woodwinds and then the return of drama reflecting the conflict between the mandarin and the pimps.  There is a great richness, a superb sense of dramatic timing, and a fascinating grouping of instrumentation on this remarkable piece.

"Two Pieces" has an affinity for the work of French composer Claude Debussy, in that Bartok scores these two parts, "In Full Flower" and "Village Dance" in ways that employ dreamy melodies and lush backgrounds reminiscent of the influential Debussy's invocation of nature and Impressionistic approaches to sound.  With such instruments as harp and celesta, the generous use of tremolo with the stringed instruments and other elements, these works still have a blueprint of Bartok's future use of unusual rhythms, groupings of instruments and sense of dramatic dynamism.

This recording is a nice survey of the long career of one of the great composers of the first half of the 20th century.  Sadly, Bartok, who was strongly against the invasion of Hungary by the Nazi regime, fled his native country in October 1940, though his older son by a first wife remained in Hungary and survived the war while the composer, his second wife and their son moved to New York.

He was not particularly appreciated in his new country and he struggled to compose and find work.  In 1944, he was diagnosed with leukemia and the disease moved quickly.  Still, in his last years he managed to not only complete the popular "Concerto for Orchestra" but also an excellent solo violin sonata for the legendary Yehudi Menuhin and a third piano concerto. 

At age 64, in late September 1945, the composer died and only ten persons were present at his funeral.  Although he was buried in New York, Bartok's remains were removed to his native Hungary where he received a state funeral in 1988, just before the fall of the Communist regime there.  Fortunately, his music is better appreciated in this country than it was during his final years and there is a series of piano works on the budget Naxos label by Hungarian pianist Jenó Jandó that will be highlighted here some day.

Jali Kunda: Griots of West Africa and Beyond

This is another excellent release by the Ellipsis Arts label, in which kora master Foday Musa Suso, whose work has been highlighted on this blog previously, worked on selecting, coordinating and arranging the selections on this record.

There are fifteen tracks, most recorded in the west African nations of Guinea-Bissau, The Gambia and Senegal, with three featuring collaborations between Suso and Western musicians, including composer Philip Glass, jazz saxophone titan Pharoah Sanders, and the ubiquitous Bill Laswell, among others.  These three works are well-done and complement the more traditional pieces, although the liners do explain that "this recording was made with both authenticity and an international audience in mind," specifically in that "the length of the pieces has been substantially shortened."

 

 

That said, there are some marvelous pieces to savor on this record.  There are a few examples, moreover, of duplicated works, though usually with different instrumentation, vocalizations and in location.  For example, the bookend pieces, consisting of a Muslim invocation to Allah, includes a version from Senegal and another from The Gambia.  What is described in the notes as "the most famous Griot song," called "Sunjata," celebrating the warrior king who established the great Mandinka empire in the 1200s, has a version from Guinea-Bissau and another from Senegal.  And, the excellent "Lambango" has a version that uses the xylophone-like balafon and which was recorded in one community in Guinea-Bissau, while another, employing the harp-like kora is from another part of that country.  Another highlight is "Sorrie," a Mandinka tune from The Gambia that has great balafon playing.  One other piece to point out is "Yata Kaya," a Fulani piece from Senegal, which Suso stated was a favorite tune utilizing the one-string fiddle called the nyanyer and which represents the type of music that is starting to fade from the music scene in that country.

 

Of the three "fusion" pieces, "Spring Waterfall" is a Suso piece in which he used effects to create what is described in the notes as "cascading layers of the kora" with Glass playing a non-intrusive piano accompaniment.  "Lamnbasy Dub" has been featured in some compilations produced by Laswell and was originally released on an album called New World Power by Suso's The Mandingo Griot Society and released on the late, great Axiom label, in which he plays an electric kora, while Laswell employs the bass and samples, Jeff Bova, known for his ambient electronic music, plays electric keyboards, and frequent Laswell collaborator Nicky Skopelitis and Clive Smith utilize other programming.  Laswell's bass is particularly effective here.  Finally, there is "Samma," another standout on this record, in which Suso on kora is joined by Sanders on tenor sax for a great blending of instruments, expertise and melody and sound.

 

Ellipsis Arts put together a string of well-chosen, sequenced and produced "world music" recordings in the 1990s and Jali Kunda is an excellent example of the quality of the label's offerings, of which more will be featured here in the future.

 

Jali Kunda: Griots of West Africa and Beyond (Ellipsis Arts . . . 1997)

 

1.  Allah l'aake  2:38

2.  Sunjata  5:40

3.  Sinyaro  3:00

4.  Mariama  4:24

5.  Spring Waterfall  7:17

6.  Jula Faso  3:14

7.  Sunjata  3:03

8.  Lamnbasy Dub  8:19

9.  Jula Jekereh  4:42

10.  Lambango  2:42

11.  Samma  8:25

12.  Sorrie  3:32

13.  Yata Kaya  4:54

14.  Lambango  7:51

15.  Allah l'aake  3:30

Keith Jarrett: The Survivors' Suite

This album was a favorite of this listener when it was purchased on cassette in the early 90s.  Featuring Jarrett's "American quartet" of Dewey Redman, Charlie Haden and Paul Motian, this April 1976 recording employs the multi-instrumental bent that the pianist employed often in the period.

The "Beginning" section, stretching over 27 minutes, begins with the quartet utilizing various types of African-like percussion, wind instruments (Jarrett on bass recorder) and stringed instruments (notably Haden's plucking, apparently, of his double bass), establishing a melancholy and contemplative that builds into a stronger rhythmic "ethnic" and tribal groove. 

This is probably why it was so enjoyed at the time and is now, given this blogger's bent for all types of "world music" and it's always good to see musicians established in certain genres (though this is not of their own making usually) employ other instrumentation and ideas to give a freshness, vitality and variety to their work. 

In Jarrett's case, in particular, given that he has become so identified with solo piano and the covering of standards, albeit fantastically done and also not reflective of the fact that he and his associates often do move into freer playing and other excursions, this move into a very different kind of sound was particularly welcomed.

At about six minutes, the band settles into using their traditional instruments, with some overdubbing of the flute, including harmonizing of Jarrett on soprano and Redman's tenor.  This is another interesting aspect of the leader's work at the time, in which he made more use of his playing of other instruments aside from the piano, which he has not done much of in recent years.  His soprano playing is quite good and this ability of his to play well on other instruments than piano is somewhat reminiscent of the late, great Sam Rivers.

The theme is majestic, compelling and memorable and is restated throughout several minutes with Haden's bass being particularly notable for its deep, rich and "spreading" (can't think of another way to say it) sound, especially as Redman begins a very fine tenor solo at about ten minutes.  Motian's drums are also recorded in a way that emphasizes the use of the hi-hat and his shifting patterns throughout his kit, but almost no cymbal work at all, which makes his playing stand out.  Meanwhile, Jarrett's accompaniment aids further in the rhythm section's foundation behind Redman's solo.

Just prior to thirteen minutes, Redman winds down and the mood changes to a light, dream-like one with Jarrett playing a beautiful solo with Haden's accompaniment.  Overdubbed celeste by Jarrett further highlights the airiness of the portion of the piece.  The solo is short, as by sixteen minutes, Redman comes in with a strong assertive expression of another theme along with Motian, who makes active use of his cymbals here, and the tenor player goes off into another excellent solo, well supported by his band mates.

At nineteen minutes, Haden takes an emotive solo, accompanied by the celeste, eschewing flashiness or a demonstration of technical ability, and this is what has made him such a unique and formidable bassist for so long.  Using the celeste and its delicate tones is a nice way to compliment Haden's excursion, as well.

Just past twenty-one minutes, the full band returns, continuing with the slower rhythm from the bass solo and Redman's playing again soars for a period before Jarrett performs another crystalline and gorgeous solo, this time with the remainder of the band along for the ride.  Towards the end of this opening section, Haden goes into another evocative solo with the celeste as the "Beginning" winds down.

The "Conclusion" has an abrupt change in tempo and intensity as the band tears immediately into a frenetic and powerful theme, propelled by Haden's often-chaotic bass work, Jarrett's freer acompaniment and Motian adept use of cymbals and shifting patterns, while Redman launches into another solo (in many ways, Redman gets the best opportunity to showcase his talents than the others in the quartet on this record.)  For a time, Redman blazes away, while Motian tears at his kit and Jarrett employs various percussion instruments for a very stark and powerful accompaniment before he returns to jabs and off-kilter runs on the piano.

From three minutes or so, Motian solos with Jarrett there for a bit before he drops off and leaves the drummer to explore his kit.  About a minute in, someone lets out a few whoops before Jarrett and Haden return and the tempo is slowed and a steady groove comes in for the pianist's next solo, with more tribal percussion for color employed.  The bass recorder also returns in overdubbed form to provide a ghostly background.

At about 7:15, another theme, bright and catchy comes in and Redman takes it up shortly after on his tenor to considerable lighten the mood and provide the all-important variation needed to keep long tracks from becoming redundant and meandering.  Jarrett has another fantastic solo for about four minutes, before Redman comes in and lays down another beautiful solo along with a bright and telepathic accompaniment from the others that makes for a highlight of a record filled with them.

Haden solos again at just over 13 minutes and this time ranges further over his instrument for a couple of minutes, before Jarrett returns with a plaintive statement on his soprano and Haden and Motian quietly playing behind him.  Then comes an overdubbed bass recorder and Haden's plucked bass, while Jarrett continues on soprano and the piece returns to that spiritual and tribal element that opened the record way back when and then a dramatic fanfare comes in at about 18 minutes with Redman back on tenor and Jarrett on piano as the band winds down to the conclusion of this masterful recording.

Often, these side-long performances in suite form wind up being alienating to some listeners, particular if the playing meanders, but the changes in instrumentation, tempo, theme and expression make The Survivors' Suite a beautifully-integrated and flowing recording that provides enough change in color, theme and instrumentation to grab and hold the listener's attention throughout.  It also helps having the superb band that made up the "American quintet," because Redman, Motian and Haden were such a great combination to work with Jarrett through some impressive 1970s recordings.

The Survivors' Suite is quite likely that group's peak performance and is certainly at the top of this listener's list of great Jarrett and jazz recordings.

Keith Jarrett:  The Survivors' Suite (ECM Records, 1977)

1.  Beginning  27:21
2.  Conclusion 21:19

John Lee Hooker: The Definitive Collection

Beware of the word "definitive" in most cases, whether in regard to music or most anything else.  Still, this British anthology of two dozen blues pieces released on the American Vee-Jay label by the great John Lee Hooker is pretty damn good.

Hooker was from near Clarksdale, Missisippi , born there probably in 1917.  While his father, a part-time preacher, wouldn't allow blues in the home, Hooker was exposed to the guitar through his step-father.  At 15, however, the young man left his family to live with relatives in Memphis and Cincinnati.  During World War II, he was in Detroit, where he began to make a name for himself.

After his "Boogie Chillen" became a #1 R&B hit, Hooker, who saw almost no royalties from it, began recording for many labels under a wide array of monikers.  In 1955, he signed to Vee-Jay, one of the big Chicago labels, are re-recorded many of his earlier pieces, with a 1959 album, I'm John Lee Hooker, showcasing Hooker in his prime.

Among the blues masterpieces on this album are his first hit "Boogie Chillen," first recorded in 1948 with this version being done about a decade later; "Crawlin' Kingsnake," and "Boom Boom."  Less well-known, but still amazing are pieces like "I'm In The Mood," "Dimples," "Little Wheel," "Trouble Blues," "Wheel and Deal," "She's Long, She's Tall."

There is also the hilarious, "I'm Mad Again," where Hooker intones in his deep voice how he's going to deal with a homeless friend he's taken into his house only to find the friend fooling around with his wife.

Probably the most surprising track has to be 1964's "Don't Look Back," which finds Hooker crooning with angelic backup singers and accompanied by horns, including the ubiquitous baritone sax found in so much of the R&B of the era.  There is a fine sax solo and Hooker's singing is really great and very different than his usual blues vocalizing.

Hooker's guitar playing was totally distinctive and had a thick and hypnotic rhythmic quality to it.  When he toured England in 1963, his playing and singing had a huge impact on a generation of young guitar players who became rock gods, including Eric Clapton, Pete Townshend, Jimmy Page (who recorded a late 90s album with his Led Zeppelin partner Robert Plant titled Walking into Clarksdale) Keith Richards and many more.

 

 

While Hooker's popularity and influence was greatest in the 1960s, he did enjoy a renaissance in the late 1980s, including a Grammy for The Healer and for a duet of "I'm in the Mood" with Bonnie Raitt and a repeat in 1998 for Don't Look Back, a record that featured another award-winning duet, this time with Van Morrison on the title track.  The bluesman died in 2001 at age 83, with his last recordings coming a few years prior and a Grammy Lifetime Achievement award presented to him the year before his death.

 

This blogger is something of a blues novice, but this is a great album and John Lee Hooker was a phenomenal singer and guitarist, who was as distinctive as some of the other greats in the genre.  Again, this record doesn't really qualify as "definitive," if anything does, but it is a good sampling of a true master of the form.

Elliott Carter: Eight Compositions (1948-1993)

This excellent disc from Bridge Records came out in 1994 in commemoration of composer Elliott Carter's 85th birthday.  At the time, it was reasonable to assume that Carter's long career would soon come to a natural close, but he lived for almost two more decades, passing away in November 2012, a month shy of his 104th birthday.

Eight Compositions (1948-1993) is a diverse and exciting overview of works for solos, duos, and trios and shows a great range of compositional formats and elements, from solo pieces for clarinet, flute, violin, and, unusually, guitar and some shorter pieces, including these solo works, to longer compositions, including the fine piano and violin duet "Duo" and the fantastic early work, 1948's "Sonata for Violoncello and Piano."

The performers from The Group for Contemporary Music, founded by pianist Charles Wuorinen and flautist Harvey Sollberger, who appear on the recording, are uniformly excellent and include Fred Sherry, a cellist whose work on John Zorn recordings is prominent; clarinetist Charles Neidich, whose rendering of "Gra" opens the album nicely; Rolf Schulte, violin, who is on three pieces; Martin Goldray, also on piano on the aforementioned "Duo"; and guitarist David Starobin, whose showcase, "Changes" was written for him by Carter and who founded and still leads the Bridge label with his wife Becky, executive producer of this disc.

Filling 78 and 1/2 minutes, the album is a phenomenal overview of forty-five years of Carter' diverse portfolio of contemporary classical music.  The liners by David Schiff include a concise summary in one paragraph of Carter's composing philosophy, including the observation that the music "often suggests an argument, sometimes between many parties, at other times an internal dialogue."  With the composer's polyphonic approach, this is an interesting way to interpret the music, especially the basic concept of dialogue, with instruments speaking to one another and/or to the audience.

For something this modern, there is still lyricism, soulfulness, emotive expression, and accessibility to so much of what Carter has composed, even if approaches to harmony, rhythm, and time reflect experimentation that mark his music as quite different from earlier composers.  Certainly, listening to Carter's music through the solo, duet and trio forms helps isolate the qualities noted above, which can be more difficult with larger ensembles and orchestral settings.

Eight Compositions (1948-1993) is, in any case, a great listening experience, representing a broad overview of pieces from a true American original.

Elliott Carter:  Eight Compositions (1948-1993) (Bridge Records, 1994)

1.  Gra  4:35
2.  Enchanted Preludes  6:30
3.  Duo  21:27
4.  Scrivo in Vento  5:55
5.  Changes  7:46
6.  Con Leggerezza Pensosa (Ommagio a Italo Calvino)  5:17
7.  Riconoscenza por Goffredo Petrassi  6:30
8.  Sonata for Violoncello and Piano  19:55

P.S.--though this blogger doesn't own any of his records, a recent flipping of the channels late at night came across a documentary on Pete Seeger, who died today at 94.  May he rest in peace. 

The Silk Road: A Musical Caravan

The Silk Road Project is an extraordinary undertaking--founded by cellist Yo-Yo Ma in 1998 to foster cultural understanding, dialogue and creation in those parts of the Middle East and Asia along the fabled Silk Road trade route.

After fifteen years, it continues along a successful and distinguished path producing remarkable projects of all kinds, including, of course, musical endeavors.  One of the early outcomes of the project was the 2002 double-disc The Silk Road: A Musical Caravan, issued by Smithsonian Folkways Recordings.  The label's description for the album asks, "What if Marco Polo had owned a tape recorder?" 

There are forty-seven pieces totaling over two hours and twenty-five minutes of spellbinding music from Turkey to Japan, including areas not well-known to many people, including the Central Asian regions of Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan and others.

It is impossible, really, to select highlights because the music is uniformly good throughout.  Instrumentals and pieces featuring vocals are given a good balance and there are Tuva throat singers, Japanese shakuhachi (flute), Persian musicians, the amazing Chinese pipa master Wu Man, and street performers. 

The first disc is given over to professionals playing the classic music of the several countries featured under the heading "Masters and Traditions," while the second is for "amateurs" in folk settings on the disc titled "Minstrels and Lovers," with the latter having sub-categories of "The Nomadic Sound," "Traditions of Festivity," and "Spiritual Music."

Playing the entire album at one sitting can understandably daunting, particularly if the listener has little or no background in the music of the varied places, but this blogger, having had some experience with Chinese, Japanese, Persian, and Tuvan/Mongolian music, was captivated and listened straight through spellbound by the diversity, beauty and talent represented.

Unfortunately, this set was purchased without the 47-page booklet with extensive notes by Ma, Jean During and Ted Levin, the latter two producers while Ma has served as artistic director of the project since its inception.  Presumably, the liners have plenty of good information about the project, the various countries, the musicians, the instruments and the pieces. 

In any case, The Silk Road: A Musical Caravan is a mightily impressive compendium, easily one of the best music anthologies this listener has heard, and one of the best "world music" recordings, as well.  While it might be too much to digest at one time, its many pleasures can be sampled in small doses and be very effective as a tool for discovering parts of the world little or not known to Americans raised on Western forms of music only.

For those who have sampled "world music" somewhat extensively, this should be an indispensable addition to a collection.

John Coltrane: Live at Birdland

The death of Amiri Baraka (formerly LeRoi Jones) a few days back was a good time to reflect on the remarkable and controversial ferment that erupted in the 1960s over black militancy, so-called free jazz, battles between jazz critics and writers, and a host of other issues.

Just last year, this blogger read Jones' ground-breaking and provocative work, Blues People, which was the first work by a black person to look at the history of jazz music, but also seeking to place that in the context of the history of black Americans as oppressed peoples expressing themselves through a music they created, despite all of the obstacles in their way.  This isn't a place to discuss the book, necessarily, certainly not to review it--there's plenty of material out there to search out for that.

But, whatever one thinks of the man who made a strikingly radical transformation from LeRoi Jones to Amiri Baraka in 1965, after the assassination of Malcolm X and of Medger Evers and other events, and continued to provoke and be the subject of controversy for decades afterward, this seemed a good time to commemorate the man via his contribution to the liner notes of John Coltrane's 1963 album Live at Birdland.

Which album is many things, actually, not always consistently expressed.  For example, while the first half of the record is comprised of three pieces from a performance at the famed New York club on 8 October 1963, the second portion is from three works recorded in the studio in March and November of that year.  The performance at Birdland also captured the return to the classic Coltrane quartet of drummer Elvin Jones, who had spent time in prison on a drug charge.  Finally, the album closed a chapter in Coltrane's career that was marked by critical tumult and a carefully crafted program by Coltrane's savvy producer, Bob Thiele, to blunt the criticism with a trio of recordings.

In essence, the problem was the jazz was changing from years of hard-bop orthodoxy to a freer conception as embodied in the work of Cecil Taylor, Ornette Coleman, Eric Dolphy, Coltrane and others.  Those critics who were aghast at the move (some of whom, in fact, championed bop when it was new in the late 1940s versus the so-called "moldy figs" who had promoted big band and swing) came out forcefully against the "free jazz" musicians. 

In Coltrane's case, he was labeled as promoting "anti-jazz" because the work he was performing in 1961 with Dolphy was a sea change from the hard bop sound that predominated before and which was featured on the Live at the Village Vanguard album and, in particular, the leader's showcase, "Chasin' the Trane," which didn't even feature Dolphy (yet, this sadly underappreciated multi-instrumentalist was put through the wringer nonetheless.)

While Coltrane claimed that the abrupt change in direction that followed 1962's excellent Coltrane recording was due to a faulty reed on his sax and teeth problems, Thiele revealed that he deliberately drew Coltrane towards ballads and more melodic music to counter the raging critics and give the saxophonist a forum for demonstrating his amazing gifts in those settings. 

What followed were collaborations with the legendary Duke Ellington, the smooth, silky singer Johnny Hartman, and an album of standards, simply called Ballads.  These albums are usually bypassed when people talk about Coltrane's body of work, but there is much to recommend them.  This is especially true when hearing how Coltrane accompanies and complements Ellington and Hartman and to hear how truly integrated that classic quartet of Jones, bassist Jimmy Garrison and pianist McCoy Tyner were.  They all proved to be tremendous with ballads and contemplative material, not just with the up-tempo and powerhouse works that the band had been singled out for by those contentious critics.

In any case, Live at Birdland marked the end of that phase, yet provided examples (as really, all Coltrane records had to date, anyway, despite the critical carping) of how the band could really cook and sizzle and then settle into beautiful melodies and mellow moods on a dime.

The record also captured the obvious joy with which Jones expressed himself after leaving federal prison and releasing his pent-up energies (energy never being a problem with the protean percussionist anyway!)  The opener, "Afro-Blue," a concert favorite for Coltrane, but never recorded in the studio, has excellent playing by the leader as well as Tyner and Garrison, but Jones is front and center here, by a country mile.  He thunders, crashes, rolls and roars through this tune like a veritable force of nature. 

While this blogger was flabbergasted by the performance and can vividly remember hearing Jones blasting through the piece when first hearing this tune on vinyl, circa 1990, and, in fact, smiling and appreciatively calling out the drummer's name through virtually the whole thing, it can be readily understood if the playing was too propulsive, too powerful and so overwhelming that it sacrificed the ensemble for the sheer joy and relief of Jones being free to play after months behind bars.

Which is all the reason to be understanding of where Jones was (which, certainly, the band and the audience were) at that moment and appreciate that the performance was, indeed, a reflection of joy and relief.  In any case, it's a wild ride, still raising hair on the back of the neck and bumps on the skin after many listens and almost a quarter century after first hearing.

Then comes "I Want to Talk About You," beautifully played by the ensemble and with Jones sensitively accompanying and not at all playing too hard.  The piece is played almost as per usual (it was another popular repertoire piece for the band) until Coltrane goes off into a phenomenal unaccompanied solo.  This solo, to this listener, is on a par with "Chasin' the Trane," but didn't have the impact and drama of having something like this done the first time, as was the case of the other work.  Still, the performance is terrific, with Coltrane exploring variation and variation and demonstrated masterful technique, invention, and soulfulness.

After these two pieces, "The Promise," another 8-minute tune, doesn't get as much attention, but the theme is excellent and there is a strong swinging accompaniment by the band behind Trane's tenor.  Tyner performs a stellar lengthy solo, anchored by his trademark strong block chords with the left hand, and Jones percolates, keeps strong time with the cymbals, and hums along enthusiastically, while increasing his intensity towards the end to drive things along.  Garrison is steady, as always, holding down the bottom with his usual aplomb.  Then, Trane comes swooping in with his top-flight solo that is thrilling with its higher-end note flourishes and runs (one can hear on this song why the soprano wound up becoming so important to Trane in terms of finding higher notes to play) and, after restating the theme, the band goes out with a flourish.

Of the two studio pieces, "Alabama" is flat-out one of Coltrane's masterpieces.  A solemn remembrance of the horrific Montgomery church bombing the claimed the lives of several young black girls who should have been safe in the sanctuary of a holy place, the piece has a rich and powerful theme, evocative of the thoughtlessness of the terrorist act performed by white supremacists, played over Tyner's simple repetitive phrase and what may be Garrison's bowing on the bass. 

Then, about 1:45 in, the piece transitions to a mid-tempo blues, almost as if suggesting the resilience that the blues has always symbolized in the lives of black Americans.  After another minute, the theme returns and Jones' mallets add weight and dignity to the sound as the tune comes to a close with the tenor taking the ending to higher scales on his instrument and ending the piece beautifully.   Coltrane would further develop the structure of "Alabama" in classic pieces in the great Crescent album and on the masterpiece A Love Supreme during 1964.  But, "Alabama" stands on its own as one of the great pieces in music, period.

"Your Lady" comes in with a nice Garrison line and Jones' always present swinging and "polyrhythms" before Trane's lyrical theme comes in, much like other, somewhat like "The Inch Worm" from the Coltrane album, at least to this listener.  The keening, soaring sound of the tenor is another excellent example of the leader's peerless playing, especially some great runs about 4 minutes in.  And, as always, Jones is there to propel the piece with his driving and penetrating style.

Finally, there is a bonus track on the CD version called "Vilia," a reworking of a standard that seems a little out of place, like "Bessie's Blues" on the otherwise meditative and somber Crescent.  It's bright and it swings, especially during Tyner's fine solo when Garrison and Jones are in a beautiful groove.  After Coltrane solos, the song seems to come to an abrupt end, for which there may have been a reason.  In any case, it's a bonus and that Tyner solo part is quite good.

As for LeRoi Jones, he starts his notes provocatively with, "One of the most baffling things about America is that despite its essentially vile profile, so much beauty continues to exist here."  Jones, as many have done, equates the nightclub as a microcosm of vileness and the playing of a master as the beauty.  And, then Jones offers that "his music is one of the reasons suicide seems so boring!"

It is cool to read Jones describing Elvin's playing as a "mad ritual drama" that taunts the other musicians, as it is that LeRoi "got up and danced while writing these notes, screaming at Elvin to cool it," a sentiment shared to some degree by this blogger, except that asking Elvin to hold back was not among the thoughts.

Jones also utters an unexpected paean to the name of the state of Alabama, observing that "I didn't realize what a beautiful word Alabama is."  Continuing that Thiele asked Coltrane if the title "had any significance to today's problems," the leader didn't address the bombings (which might, perhaps, have opened up to further critical commentary?) with directness, stating that "it represents, musically, something that I saw down there translated into music from inside me."

Finally, Jones does not that, actually, "all the music on this album is Live, whether it was recorded above drinking and talk at Birdland, [or] in the studio," which is true, except, perhaps, that the atmosphere in each are entirely different and the results could be accordingly.  But, the essayist concludes in another cool evocation:  "this music will make you think of a lot of weird and wonderful things.  You might even become one of them."

Amen to that and may LeRoi Jones/Amiri Baraka, for all of the controversy and the directness and the penetration and the evocation, rest in peace.  Whatever one thinks of him and this blogger is ambivalent, for sure, he encouraged honest and critical thinking and the fact that he dug Coltrane and the quartet and this album as much as he did is worth celebrating on its own terms.

John Coltrane:  Live at Birdland (Impulse Records, 1963, 1996)

1.  Afro-Blue  10:53
2.  I Want to Talk About You  8:11
3.  The Promise  8:06
4.  Alabama  5:08
5.  Your Lady  6:39
6.  Vilia  4:36

Equations of Eternity: Equations of Eternity

Recorded over a year in 1995-96 at the personal studios in Milan, Italy; Birmingham, England; and Brooklyn, New York by the trio of experimental electronic musicians Eraldo Bernocchi (electronics, programming, treated guitars), Mick Harris (electronics, drum programming), and Bill Laswell (bass guitar and what is listed as "interstellar influence," whatever that may entail), Equations of Eternity is a fascinating excursion into a world of electronic ambience, solid programmed drumming, fluid and dubby bass playing and the occasional sampled voice.

Bernocchi, a collaborator with Harris on some notable albums on the Sub Rosa label during this period, produced and mixed the record, almost certainly after Harris and Laswell established the rhythms, and was likely the prime mover on the project, which spawned another excellent album, also on the WordSound label, in Vevè (1998).

The varied elements offered by the collaborators are excellent, enticing and intriguing.  Laswell's bass playing is particularly essential in holding down a reliable groove in tandem with Harris's spare, but well-chosen beats, while Bernocchi adds all manner of interesting textures, along with what are presumed to be contributions from Harris, as well.

Adding to the mysterious musical vibe is a quote from British mystic Aleister Crowley from his Book of Thoth:  "Pour water on thyself:  thus thou be a fountain to the universe / Find thou thyself in every star / Achieve thou every possibility."  Might be gibberish to some and profound truth to others, but this album has enough to recommend it with the well-organized layers of sound and Laswell's consistently-excellent bass playing that you could almost certainly take or leave the mysticism and just enjoy the electronic-ambient-dub grooves that flow unendingly from this fine recording.

Equations of Eternity:  Equations of Eternity (WordSound, 1996)

1.  The Collector  6:48
2.  Eons Geography  5:51
3.  5th Element  5:35
4.  Loa  6:31
5.  Stream  5:52
6.  Shadow Sewer  7:43
7.  Fifty Gates  4:34
8.  Descent  5:47
9.  Slow Bleed  5:52

Edgard Varèse: Arcana, Intégrales, Déserts

The short description to this blog offers the simple premise that "music is organized sound."  This is outside of any subjective qualities like "beauty" that are often associated with "music."  Though this blogger has had this wonderful Naxos disc by the amazing Edgard Varese for quite a number of years, it was with blissful unawareness that the composer termed his music, from the 1920s onward, as "organized sound."

Moreover, Varese described himself as "a worker in rhythms, frequencies and intensities," which sounds very different from how most composers would be identified (if not self-identified.)  In fact, he elaborated that "a composer . . . is an organizer of disparate elements" and went on to suggest that "noise is any sound one doesn't like."

Now, in reading Partch's fascinating, if technically difficult (especially for a rank amateur) Genesis of a Music, it seems that, in many ways, he and Varese were not that far removed in spirit in terms of their fierce individualistic and rationalistic approaches to making music far different than the orthodoxy founded on equal temperament. 

A lack of understanding the depths and details of the musical process doesn't preclude this blogger from at least having the ability to discern that expanding the palette of musical resources beyond traditional form, or, certainly in Partch's case, instrumentation is a cornerstone to what innovators like Varese or Partch (or Cage, Cowell, Reich, Harrison, Ives, Crumb, Stockhausen, Xenakis and many others) have tried to do.

What these new approaches do force the listener to do (or try to) is recalibrate their listening away from the reliable structures of equal temperament to something more challenging, less certain (and safe) but, potentially, highly enriching and thrilling.  The "organized sound" found in the several works on this disc give a nice overview to the highly varied tones, sonorities, tonalities, rhythms, colorations and other elements of sound-as-music that Varese explored and exploited in his long, if not particularly prolific, career.

Four of the five works here, performed by the Polish National Radio Symphony Orchestra and conducted by Christopher Lyndon-Gee, date from the 1920s, when the 40-ish French-born Varese, who'd moved to the U.S. in the mid-1910s and became a citizen in 1926, poured himself into the development of "organized sound" with acoustical instrumentation.  "Arcana," dating to 1925-27, "Octandre" from 1923, Offrandres (1921), and Intégrales (1924-25) show a breathtaking array of instrumental and vocal combinations, explorations into percussive elements, evocations of various manifestations of timbre, densities of sound masses, tinkering with form and other means to find new ways of expression.

For a variety of reasons dealing with professional disappointments of various kinds, Varese was far less productive from 1930 onward.  The remaining piece on this recording, however, shows what the composer was able to do with the advancing technology of electronics, specifically an Ampex tape recorder he received from an anonymous admirer in the early 1950s. 

"Déserts" from 1950-54, brings together fourteen wind instruments, piano, several percussionists and the two-track tape machine with an open format, in which the ensemble could either play the four movements, or sections, alone or add three electronic interludes.  While it has the same keening and yearning desire for novel expressiveness that characterized Varese's earlier works, "Déserts" also reflects the mighty changes that were underway after the Second World War and with the new directions championed by such figures as Cage, Stockhausen, Xenakis and many others.  As noted by Peter Quinn in the liners, "Déserts" had about the same kind of reception accorded to Stravinsky's "The Rite of Spring" a little over four decades here--something highlighted here not long ago.

Someday, another recording of Varese's music, which includes "Arcana" and "Déserts" but also features the early "Amériques" and the late twenties/early thirties "Ionisation" and conducted by Perre Boulez with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, will be highlighted. 

It has been quite an adventure delving into modern "classical" music over the last quarter century, starting from the Kronos Quartet's version of George Crumb's spellbinding "Black Angels" back in 1990 to Cage's Indeterminacy and Reich's early work with edited tape and Riley's In C and Harrison's Koro Sutra and Cowell's phenomenal tone clusters and Stockhausen's wild experiments and Xenakis's computer-assisted composing, among others.  Not being musically educated may or may not be a handicap, depending on whether the goal is to enjoy or understand or both, but it has been enriching nonetheless to go on the journey and be open to various ways creative musicians have developed "organized sound."  Varese has proven to be one of the more interesting innovators this listener has found.

Japan: Koto Music

This recording of music of the koto, a 13-string instrument about six feet in length played with picks (plectra) on the thumb, index finger and middle finger, demonstrates the phenomenal skill and unerring beauty with which Japanese masters perform on this national instrument.  The delicate high-pitch of the instrument has a highly spiritual quality and the clear and full tones when plucked by these masters are something to behold.

Recorded by Katsumasa Takasago and released on LP for the remarkable Nonesuch Explorer series of "world music" recordings in 1965, this disc was remastered and released in 1998 with a beautiful booklet reprinting Takasago's original notes.  Notably, most of the performers on this album are women, including Master Shogin Hagiwara, who lost her vision at six years of age and earned her degree of "koto master" when seventeen. 

Master Hagiwara takes solo turns on "Rokudan-no-Shirabe," or "Music of Six Steps," a 17th-century piece that has six sections and is a spectacular showcase and on "Shin-Takasago" an 1800s song based on the Takasago drama in the Noh theatrical tradition. This latter is especially beautiful.

She and her student Master Ginsho Mineuchi perform a stunning duet on "Godan-Kinuta," a song for weaving cloth and then a trio performance with Master Kikusui Kofu on the shakuhachi (bamboo flute, of which music there will be discs highlighted here some day) on "Haru-no-Kyoku," or "Music of Spring."  The use of the shakuhachi conveys a mournful, contemplative and highly emotional tone to the piece, as well.

The other two works are "Echigojishi," an 18th-century folk song of a lion dance from an ancient festival in the community of Echigo, performed solo by Master Hatta and the trio piece "Yugao" or "Evening Glory" which includes koto master Yamaguchi with shamisen (three-stringed lute-like instrument) master Kitagawa and Master Kikusui on the shakuhachi.  This song takes its story from the famed The Tale of Genji from the 11th century and a girl named Yugao with whom Genji fell in love, but she died due to a curse from a haunted spirit.  This is a particularly interesting piece and a nice close to a fantastic album of traditional Japanese koto music.

Japan:  Koto Music (Nonesuch Explorer Series, 1965/2008)

1.  Echigojishi  2:02
2.  Godan-kinuta  11:50
3.  Rokudan-no-shirabe  6:03
4.  Haru-no-kyoku  8:57
5.  Shin-takas ago  2:07
6.  Yugao  12:49

Cecil Taylor: 3 Phasis

It was a beautiful thing to read articles and Web pages and see photos of the great Cecil Taylor receive the Kyoto Prize in Japan in early November and heartening to know he was performing, still active at the age of 84.  The phenomenal pianist, so sadly underappreciated and little recognized for so many years, has gradually received increasing attention for his staggering technique, imagination, and innovation.  So, it was nice to see him receive the kinds of accolades he so well deserves while he was in Japan.  Hopefully, he'll be getting some further measure of this in America before it's too late.

This is because we are losing a lot of great jazz musicians quickly--just a few days ago, Yusef Lateef, who was a major figure in incorporating other sounds from musics around the world into his conception of jazz, passed on.  As mentioned here, the remarkable drummer Ronald Shannon Jackson died not long ago.  In fact, this Taylor album, 3 Phasis, features the talents of Jackson along with trumpeter Raphé Malik, violist Ramsey Ameen, bassist Sirone, and Taylor's longtime sidekick, alto sax player Jimmy Lyons.

In the informative and perceptive notes by Gary Giddins, it was pointed out that the record was "the last of the four evening sessions in April 1978" that included the Cecil Taylor Unit album and that the performance was not titled, but referred to as "the suite."  It was also the final of six takes recorded in a marathon session that stretched into overtime late into the morning hours.  That final effort was so striking that the producer, Sam Perkins, exclaimed that "this was the best yet by far."  Moreover, as the band hit its stride, some forty minutes into the take, Perkins added that, "we've got a record now!" but soon worried about what would happen if the band didn't stop and editing was needed "because I'd hate to cut it."

If anything, Cecil Taylor is always aware, so as the clock got near an hour, he moved into a finale that brought the stunning session to a powerful conclusion.  As excitement reigned in the studio after the last notes died down, the cool-as-ever leader simply remarked, "Well, you know we knew it was good, too."

Giddings included a quote from Duke Ellington about the orchestra as "an accumulation of personalities, tonal devices" and noted that Taylor's band music with its variety of instruments provides just that, an opportunity for a vast array of tonalities.  This is certainly the case with Ameen's violin, Malik's trumpet, Lyons's alto and Cecil providing both free-ranging solo work, but also striking and notable accompaniment, both to other soloists and in group work.  Sirone and Jackson make for a supple and supportive rhythm section.

For those who argue that Taylor is so strong a (tonal) personality, that he can overwhelm the other players on a recording or in a live setting, this is definitely not the case here.  This is a great ensemble work, where the trumpet rises above the din during those dense passages where everyone plays in a carefully calibrated (and, to this listener, beautiful) maelstrom, with the alto and piano punctuating frequently through the sound.

As Giddings carefully notes with reference to times, Taylor proves to be a master at feeding ideas to the other instrumentalists through his use of apt figures.  And, despite his reputation, Taylor comes up with some beautifully melodic figures (this blogger heard his gorgeous short piece "After All" just the other day from 1975's fantastic Silent Tongues, to be covered here someday) and one comes, as Giddins observes, at near 33 minutes, though there are some other moments of delicacy, such as at around 11 minutes that can quickly move into flurries of rapidly played runs interspersed with mournful bowing of the violin.

In a piece this long, running over 57 minutes, and with such a rich variety of instrumental tonalities, there are little nuggets and treasures scattered throughout.  Giddins refers to it as "a masterwork, a testament to the perfectionism and unpredictability that go hand in hand in Taylor's music."  This is definitely the case with 3 Phasis as it is so often with the music of a man who has made some of the most impressive and uncompromising music in any genre over nearly sixty years. 

Cecil Taylor: 3 Phasis (New World Records, 1979)

1.  11:10
2.  9:17
3.  11:52
4.  11:55
5.  13:06

King Crimson: Discipline

In 1974, disillusioned with the direction of King Crimson, traveling on the road, and dealing with the music business, as well as feeling in a spiritual crisis, Robert Fripp disbanded the group that had just made the revelatory recording Red.  After working on a final statement in the form of the live album U.S.A., released in 1975, Fripp stopped making music and took a ten-month course at the International Academy for Continuous Education, created by John G. Bennett as a means for studying the aim of the spiritual life based largely on the teachings of the Russian-Armenian G.I. Gurdjieff (whose music was performed by pianist Keith Jarrett, profiled in this blog, in a 1980 recording.)

Fripp then did something remarkable for someone who came up in the music world of the late 1960s, he moved to New York and immersed himself in the independent music scene there.  Meantime, he was lured back into performing when Brian Eno, with whom Fripp made the innovative 1973 album No Pussyfooting, asked him to work on some tracks for David Bowie's 1977 album, Heroes, with Fripp's distinctive guitar providing the backbone for the title track.   Fripp went on to produce an Peter Gabriel solo record, one by the folk act, The Roches, and even a solo album by Daryl Hall.  Finally, Fripp created a remarkable album of his own, Exposure, which was released in 1979 and which will be profiled here later.  In 1980, Fripp resurrected the name of his first significant group, The League of Gentlemen, and teamed with XTC keyboardist Barry Andrews (later in Shriekback), Sara Lee, a bassist who later played with Gang of Four and the B-52s among others, and drummer Johnny Toobad, replaced later by Kevin Wilkinson, who subsequently was in China Crisis and Squeeze.)  The band released one album and toured for much of that year before the project was terminated.

Determined not to go back to the past, Fripp then conceived of a group called Discipline.  Bassist Tony Levin, who had worked on the Peter Gabriel solo record (and has been touring with him lately), impressed Fripp greatly, as had an amazing guitarist and singer, Adrian Belew, who was hired by Frank Zappa from obscurity and subsequently worked with Bowie and Talking Heads.  The one link to the King Crimson past was Fripp's offer to drummer Bill Bruford to join the new quartet.  After rehearsing, Discipline began playing shows and developed an immediate rapport.  Soon, however, it became apparent to Fripp and the others that the new group was actually King Crimson and Discipline was jettisoned, though it would, in 1993, be resurrected as part of Fripp's independent label, Discipline Global Mobile.

The 1981 version of King Crimson bore almost no resemblance to the earlier iterations, which was one of the most remarkable aspects of it.  Belew was the first guitarist to work with Fripp and his extensive use of the whammy-bar and other pyrotechnics were stunning, as well as being an excellent counterpoint to Fripp's more subdued, but complex and idiosyncratic sound.  Based on a new-found interest in Balinese gamelan music, the two also developed a highly integrated cross-picking sound that made King Crimson distinctive.  Levin's use of the new Chapman Stick, which is a guitar-like instrument that is able to play bass and melody lines as well as ambient like textures and thick chords, was also highly unusual and he also played the traditional bass.  Finally, Bruford was asked (restricted?) by Fripp to disdain too much use of the cymbal and be more of a rhythmic accompaniment to the group and also used a new technology, an electronic drum kit by Simmons, augmented by some acoustic pieces.

 
The record the band issued that year, Discipline, was not only light years removed from earlier King Crimson lineups and recordings, but was radically different from anything else of the time.  It is a testament to Fripp's desire and that of his bandmates to be forward thinking in terms of sound, but it was also essential to have the rhythmic flexibility and virtuosity of Levin and Bruford, who made a fantastic team, and to have the rare combination of a staggering guitarist, a fine vocalist and good songwriter in Belew.  Belew, in particular, provided a goofy humor and an engaging warmth to his other talents to make this new version of KC something different and timely.

As has been stated here before, it is hard to look at In the Court of the Crimson King (1969), Red (1974) and Discipline (1981) and choose which one is "best."  They are dramatically varied from one another, but have that unifying spirit of experimentalism and adventure that marks the spirit of King Crimson.  It has to be said, though, that Discipline is more accessible and has a continuity and seamlessness that the others don't possess, although "21st Century Schizoid Man" and "Starless" are epochal recordings that stand head-and-shoulders, in this listener's opinion, above everything else the band did, excepting perhaps "Lark's Tongues in Aspic, Part 2," and a personal favorite, the fascinating "The Talking Drum," both from 1973's Larks Tongues in Aspic.

But, "Indiscpline" is right up there.  Belew's agitated soliloquy based on his wife's reaction to a work of art she created is accompanied by some fabulous instrumental accompaniment, including a guitar solo by Fripp reminiscent of the one found on "A Sailor's Tale" from 1971's Islands, Levin's anchoring bass playing, and Bruford's rare opportunity to rove around his kit, but highlighted by his beautifully tight roll just before Belew tears into his distinctive solo.

"Elephant Talk" has a cool lyrical format, in which Belew spouts out words from each of the letters from A to, you got it, E--he has a knack for clever lyrical conceits that break down some of the heaviness of the KC sound and Fripp's processed "mouse" solo is fascinating.  "Frame by Frame" has a nice soaring vocal by Belew with backing vocals from Levin, something not found in previous versions of the band. 

"Thela Hun Gingeet" is an anagram for "Heat in the Jungle" with another unusual compositional element--during rehearsals, Belew explained his idea to the band about what the song was about, the hardness of an urban street environment, when Fripp suggested he take his portable tape recorded and go out into the street and record what was there.  Belew was then actually set upon by some men who thought he was an undercover cop with the singer/vocalist protesting that he was in a band recording an album and that he was on the street for that reason.  Somehow, the men decided to walk away only to have Belew run into a police officer.  Returning to the studio and visible shaken and upset, Belew retold the incident to his fellow band members, but Fripp had the presence of mind to ask the recording engineer to tape what Belew related.  This was added to the song to give it a disconcerting element of unreality--though, at first listen, it seemed to this blogger to be contrived, though still effective as a vocal device.

Aside from "Indiscipline" the other highlight is the gorgeous "Matte Kudasai," for which Fripp had a previously-existing guitar line, but it is Belew's vocal that stands out.  Later incarnations of the group would come up with such Belew signatures as "One Time" and "Eyes Wide Open."  While fans of the older versions of KC would point to "I Talk to the Wind," "Cadence and Cascade" and others as being emblematic of the balladic aspect of the group, "Matte Kudasai" is both beautiful, but less baroque.

Discipline concludes with two instrumentals, the evocative "The Sheltering Sky" and "Discipline," which features that complex, interwoven, cross-picking playing by Fripp and Belew mentioned above.  In all, this album is a striking, original and daring leap to a modern sound that most 1960s era bands and performers could not conceive of trying.  It is notable that John Wetton, whose powerful and nimble bass playing and smoky vocals on the classic 1972-74 KC lineup, became a pop rock phenomenon with Asia just a year later.  The differences of where he went (albeit leading to great riches, if not longevity) compared to where Fripp headed are telling.

An early CD version of the album, in 1989, as with all of those made at the time, was heralded as "definitive."  Of course, this was not so, and a 30th anniversary disc came out about a decade later in 2001.  Then, with further technological advances, came the 40th anniversary version in various formats (including 5.1 DTS Digital Surround, MLP Lossless and PCM Stereo) and with some bonus material.  Produced and mixed by Fripp and Steven Wilson of The Porcupine Tree who has overseen most of the reissued 40th anniversary material, the sound is excellent.

The Eighties version of Crimson released two more albums, the underrated Beat (1982) and Three of a Perfect Pair (1984) and, after the excellence of Discipline, it was probably unfair to ask the band to come near to reaching that level.  This listener first heard the band in spring 1984 when a friend wanted to see KC play at the Greek Theater in Los Angeles.  After curtly declining in some disdain, visions of prog excess (side-long suites about court jesters, dancing in the sun, and Tarkus, etc.) roiling about in the brain, the friend asked for a listen to a few Crimson records to demonstrate that they were different.  Indeed they were--a run through ITCOTCK, Starless and Bible Black, Red and, most strikingly, Discipline clearly showed this.

The June concert was amazing.  The tall, balding Levin providing a notable presence aside from his unbelievable playing, Bruford expertly laying down electronic and analog rhythms, Belew crooning, elephant talking, and whammy-bar wailing his way into the audience's hearts, and Fripp, as always, calmly seated at the side and playing off the various strengths of his fellow band members and himself.  A month or so later, it was over as Fripp decided to walk away from Crimson once again.

For this listener, the budding interest in the band ended--it was an unexpected detour from the alternative rock that ruled the roost.  In 1994, the VROOOM CD was picked up out of sheer curiosity and, though it was intriguing, nothing further came of it.  Then, in 2009, a nagging question about whether Crimson would still be of interest (Starless and Bible Black, in particular, kept popping into the cranium) led to a hesitant purchase of Larks Tongues in Aspic and it was "The Talking Drum" that did it.  Since then, it has been a near-continuous exploration of all things Crimson and Fripp, though the news that the grand plans for the 40th anniversary year ground to a halt followed by Fripp's "retirement" was disappointing.

Suddenly, with a long-standing dispute over royalties with Universal Music Group and other difficulties resolved, this September Fripp announced another version of Crimson would be "in service" by that time in 2014.  The news was tempered some by the revelation that Belew was not invited and the vocalist would be Jakko Jakszyk, who performed on a recent KC "projekct" with Fripp, Mel Collins from the 1970-72 KC era, Gavin Harrison (of The Porcupine Tree and the short 2008 Crimson mini-tour).  The "projekct" has been defined as a sort of "research and development" aspect of portions of the larger Crim to move to the next phase. 

Now that the five men who worked on A Scarcity of Miracles are in the new lineup along with two other drummers, KC vet Pat Mastelotto and Bill Rieflin, formerly of Ministry and REM and who has worked with Fripp on other projects, including The Humans, the band of Fripp's wife Toyah Willcox, it will be interesting to see what new directions will come of it.  Undoubtedly, much of the attention will be focused on Jakszyk, who will, fairly or not, be compared to Greg Lake, John Wetton and Adrian Belew.

Whatever happens, it is sure to be interesting and unexpected and nothing less can be expected from the iconoclastic, enigmatic, but remarkably and resiliently creative Robert Fripp.

Harry Partch: Delusion of the Fury

Slogging, as a total amateur, through Harry Partch's book Genesis of a Music and trying to grasp as much as possible the complex and highly ordered system of "monophony" he developed with 43 tones in just intonation reflecting precise vibrational ratios in place of the notation system of equal temperament found in "classical" music, what has been most striking and memorable, actually, is the composer's differentiation between corporeal and abstract music. 

Namely, that ancient forms of music, such as that found in Greece, was corporeal, in which music was not separate from other performing arts like theater and poetry/recitation/singing and that the integration of these art forms was represented in a purer expression through the human body in a coordinated theatrical and musical setting.  Vocalizations were not done for their own sake, but to clearly express the text of what was sung, which also related to dance and other visual representations.

Later, however, European "classical" music, in Partch's view, became abstract, removing the music from the integrated bodily expressions of those prior societies and traditions and employing an artifice that prized technical ability over message and virtuosity over direct human emotion.  He criticized operatic singing, for example, as emphasizing drawn-out vocalizations that sacrificed the text and its meaning for showy, self-conscious expressions of the talents of the composer and the singer.  But J.S. Bach's devising of equal temperament for the "well-tempered clavier" seems to have been where the abstraction wrongly pulled music away from its corporeal roots.

Partch's arguments are interesting and compelling and he developed a truly original compositional form with instruments of his own design and construction, while also being heavily influenced by, among others, ancient Greek and Japanese Noh and kabuki theater traditions (his parents were missionaries in China and the family also lived in the American Southwest, where native societies had a great impression on the young Partch.)

Another interesting element to the book is his discussion of the contrast between standardized definitions of consonance and dissonance and it seems that his views are that what one person might view as "noise" through dissonance can seem quite consonant, when heard through the monophonic system Partch developed.  This is fascinating because equal temperament is so well-established and traditional melodic, harmonic and rhythmic forms are so different from Partch's vision that, given how we listen to music, it can be argued, perhaps, that Partch's "dissonance" seems actually "abstract."

Over time, though, in listening to a wide array of his works, this amateur listener has come to admire the dissonant beauty and compelling palette of unusual sounds coaxed from the varied custom instruments this brilliant iconoclast designed and built (and which are only rarely played by acolytes because of their complexity and logistical challenges.)  It has taken time and effort to develop this appreciation and the advise offered, and mentioned here before, by jazz musicians Albert and Donald Ayler concerning the former's idiosyncratic music, comes to mind:  try to follow the sound, not the notes.

As much as it is desirable to want to understand the nuances and complexities of Partch's discussion of monophony and the ratios building from a 1/1 ratio (corresponding roughly to the "G" note in equal temperament) and the utonalities and otonalities (referring to the top or over number and the bottom of under number in the ratios as overtones and undertones) and all other manner of concepts embodied in his system, ultimately for most people, listening to Partch is an attempt to "follow the sound" and be caught up in the wonderful and exotic sounds coaxed from these amazing instruments.

To many fans, Partch's 1965-66 composition, "Delusion of the Fury", is his masterpiece.  First performed in 1969 at UCLA in Los Angeles and, amazingly, released by the mainstream Columbia label, the recording is a 72-minute excursion into the unique world of Partch's monophonic system and his remarkable fusion of ancient Greek, Japanese, and other elements that explore the meaning of ritual.

Partch's statement in the liners: "Words cannot proxy for the experience of knowing—of seeing and hearing" is essential, because his idea of corporeal music is that you can't separate the visual from the auditory and the total experience cannot be captured in a recording that only gives you the latter.  While Partch maligned opera from moving away from the corporeal to the abstract, his larger-scale works can lead to the feeling that they are a unique and personalized form not that far removed from opera.  And, when listening to a recording, as with opera, much is missed in not seeing and experiencing the unified whole.

In any case, it is still a great treat hearing the vast forms of percussion, including the "marimba eroica," and the "quadranglaris reversum," and the "cloud-chamber bowls," and the "spoils of war," and the "harmonic canon II." The plucked strings include the two forms of "kithara," and that "harmonic canon I" as well as a Japanese koto.  And, the list of interestingly-named and played instruments goes on, including the "eucalyptus claves," the "Fiji rhythm boat," the "gubagabi," and the "drone devils" or jewsharps.  The vocalizations are chants and singing done in monosyllables, not the ornate and elongated operatic arias Partch frowned upon.

Partch did offer a synopsis, stating that the setting was "an olden time" and that the lengthy overture, titled the "Exordium" was a "music-theater portrayal of release from the wheel of life and death," giving a distinctly Buddhist-like  connotation concerning the move to enlightenment.  Partch observed that the storyline was based on a fallen warrior's ghost appearing to the killer and the latter's young son and working through a reconciliation to enlightenment from fury from being killed during battle.

Not surprisingly, Partch models the second act on an Ethiopian folk story, noting that the idea was to link life and death as "an accommodation toward a healthy—or at least a possible—existence," rather than as separate elements.  The tale involved a misunderstanding over the muteness of a vagabond (Partch also uses the word "hobo," a theme he often developed in his career, having been a hobo for several years as a younger man) who is mistaken for stealing an old woman's goat and then the couple is forced to appear before a deaf and near-sighted judicial official for a sentence heightened by the earlier misunderstanding as to what the hobo or vagabond had actually done.

Notably, Partch composed the piece to go straight through, without interruption, throughout the hour and ten minute plus length, corresponding to the idea of moving directly from life to death to reconciliation in the first act and the concept of dealing with the interrelationship of meaning, misunderstanding and misapplication of law in the second.

Danlee Mitchell, who conducted the original performance with supervision from the composer and became Partch's heir and executive director of the Harry Partch Foundation, provides an interesting and informative essay about the mounting of the performance and Partch's work generally and there are a few fascinating quotes from Partch to producer John McClure showing his frustration dealing with the long gestation of the work and in dealing with a major label.

Whether or not this appreciation accurate conveys Partch's concepts or understands even on a basic level his tenets relating to corporeal music and theater versus the abstractions of "classical" music, this listener is amazed at the commitment, depth of thought, and remarkable presentation that he was able to generate in highly challenging circumstances through many decades of working virtually "underground."  Even if it not understood conceptually, the adage of the Aylers to "follow the sound" rather than the notes, or, in Partch's case, the 43 monophonic ratios, has opened up new ways of hearing music, dissonant, consonant, or neither.