Andrea Centazzo, Moon in Winter (Ictus) Peter Paulsen Quintet, Goes Without Saying… (SquarePegWorks)
By David R. Adler
These two discs are worlds apart in some ways, but there’s a link to be found in the acute, versatile trumpet of Dave Ballou. Both sessions feature a quintet: Moon In Winter, an evocative chamber-improv date from Italian-American percussionist Andrea Centazzo, is freer in concept, while Goes Without Saying…, from the unheralded Pennsylvania bassist Peter Paulsen, is a darkly shaded postbop gem.
What amazes most on Moon in Winter is the panoply of sound from Centazzo’s percussion — a strategic onslaught of metal and wood, seemingly unlimited in variety. With the MalletKAT, a marimba-like MIDI controller, Centazzo builds other layers as well, at times sounding like a vibraphone, accordion, Rhodes or abstract synthesizer, bolstering the contributions of pianist Nobu Stowe and bassist Daniel Barbiero. Much of the interplay is free, but there are a number of finely composed themes, often harmonized by Ballou and woodwinds man Achille Succi, who switches between alto sax, clarinets and shakuhachi as the music demands.
The dominant focus is “Moon in Winter,” parts one through five, interspersed with three “Winter Duets” and two freestanding pieces: “The man with foggy fingers,” in a doleful rubato, and “Absolutely elsewhere,” which contrasts Succi’s feverish staccato alto with Ballou’s Kenny Wheeler-esque flight toward the end. (Regrettably, there is an obtrusive buzzing, some sort of static interference or distortion, heard throughout Moon in Winter. It was checked on multiple stereo systems, with two different copies of the disc.)
Peter Paulsen, a jazz bassist with extensive symphony experience, has three earlier releases to his credit (Three-Stranded Cord, Tri-Cycle, Change of Scenery). On Goes Without Saying… he brings seductive compositions to the table and leads a formidable band with Ballou on trumpet and flugelhorn, Chris Bacas on tenor and soprano, Mike Frank on piano and Chris Hanning on drums. Although the music is more tonal or mainstream than Centazzo’s, Ballou is consistent in personality, from his pinched half-valve entrance on Wayne Shorter’s “Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum” to his lyrical intensity on Kenny Wheeler’s “’Smatter” and Kenny Werner’s “Compensation” (all three of these cannily arranged by Paulsen).
The bass intros on “You Said You’d Call” and “Psalm” (arco and pizzicato, respectively) highlight Paulsen’s rounded tone and unerring intonation. And the leadoff title track, its bright triplet feel barely concealing a sense of inner mystery, should establish that Bacas is one of today’s great unsung voices on soprano sax. In all there are six Paulsen originals, each a model of smart orchestration and rhythmic and harmonic subtlety, marked by a truly individual touch. It’s easy to see why they inspire brilliant performances all around.
An album by the Metta Quintet always begins with a premise. The group’s 2002 debut, Going to Meet the Man, was inspired by James Baldwin’s short stories. Subway Songs (2006) evoked the bustle of New York mass transit and mourned those killed in the London tube bombings of the previous year. Big Drum/Small World continues with a statement on jazz globalism, featuring music by composers of disparate backgrounds: Marcus Strickland, Miguel Zenón, Omer Avital, Rudresh Mahanthappa and Yosvany Terry.
Drummer Hans Schuman, founder of the band’s nonprofit parent organization JazzReach, teams up with Strickland, bassist Joshua Ginsburg and two impressive newer recruits — pianist David Bryant and altoist Greg Ward — in a program that highlights the varied and distinctive voices of these guest composers. Strickland’s “From Here Onwards” leads off in a joyous and breezy mood, with saxophones in polyphony during the theme and swinging hard on the solos. Zenón’s “Sica” and Terry’s “Summer Relief” fit well together as complex, multi-themed works in a progressive Latin vein. Mahanthappa’s “Crabcakes,” introduced by Strickland and Ward in a devilish pas de deux, launches into brain-bending rhythmic repeats over fairly static harmony. Avital’s “BaKarem,” set up by Ginsberg’s passionate solo intro, brings forward the most accessible melody of the set: mournful but dancing, with a Middle Eastern tinge that prevails in much of Avital’s work.
The drawback is that Big Drum/Small World could be appropriately subtitled Short Album: it’s over in just 34 minutes. Yes, in an era of overly long CDs, concise is often a plus. But this recording feels somehow less complete, less of a journey, than the Metta Quintet’s previous two. And a quibble, perhaps, but the saxophones are overly reverbed and too severely panned (it’s especially apparent through headphones). The band sounds less live as a result. Although this is compelling music by highly gifted composers, and Metta deserves praise for bringing it to light and playing it so well, we’re left wanting more.
The term “groove-oriented” usually describes jazz of a funkier, danceable sort. But it’s not how many would categorize the maddeningly complex music of Vijay Iyer and his trio with bassist Stephan Crump and drummer Marcus Gilmore. Pulsing rhythm, however, has always played a significant role for Iyer, and at (Le) Poisson Rouge during Winter Jazz Fest (Jan. 7th) he brought the beat like never before, drawing on pieces from the forthcoming ACT release Accelerando. The atmosphere was just right: packed and sweaty crowd, eager for something new. Like a good DJ, Iyer reached back to 1977 with Heatwave’s “The Star of a Story,” shrouding the pretty chords and melody in a fragmented, bass-heavy pattern. “Lude,” with an almost imperceptible segue into “Optimism,” featured Iyer in a more pronounced soloing role, though the mix was too muddy at times to hear it well. “Actions Speak,” another original, closed the set at warp speed and allowed Gilmore time for a seal-the-deal drum solo. Hypnotic deconstructed rhythm was the focus, giving a consistent band sound to a set that ranged from “Hood,” inspired by Detroit’s “minimal techno” pioneer Robert Hood, to “Human Nature,” the Michael Jackson classic from Thriller. The latter, which led off Iyer’s 2010 disc Solo (and was once a concert staple for Miles Davis), got a thorough going-over from the trio, in a limping modified shuffle feel — a beat that seemed to hold together by nearly falling apart. (David R. Adler)
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Surging and inescapable rhythm is what gives Adam Rudolph’s Moving Pictures Septet its broadly accessible and riveting sound. This much seemed clear to a late-night Winter Jazz Fest crowd at Zinc Bar (Jan. 6th), where Rudolph played a short but solid set with fellow percussionists James Hurt and Matt Kilmer, guitarist Kenny Wessel, acoustic bass guitarist Jerome Harris, reedist Ralph Jones and cornet/flugelhorn man Graham Haynes. An avant-garde theorist and student of musical traditions from around the world, Rudolph had a wealth of sounds available, and he used them brilliantly: lap-steel guitar from Harris on the opening “Oshogbo”; flute and muted cornet dissonance on the closing burner “Dance Drama”; Hurt’s melodica and Wessel’s ethereal effects at the opening of “Love’s Light,” a bluesy meditation; Jones on “Return of the Magnificent Spirits” making forceful statements on bass clarinet and Chinese hulusi (one of several Eastern wind instruments in Jones’ toolkit). Rudolph, standing behind his conga, tumba, djembe and other gear, drove the band with an effortless kind of polyrhythmic abstraction. The writing was loose but focused, with precise hits and carefully crafted themes — not unlike what we hear from Rudolph’s larger group, the Go:Organic Orchestra (which plays some of the same repertoire). Happily, the energy of this music translates onto disc: Rudolph’s latest releases, Both/And and The Sound of a Dream, are essential. (DA)
Inzinzac Sat., Jan. 21, 8pm. $6. With Zvoov, Mi Head Ur Head. Angler Movement Arts Center, 1550 E. Montgomery Ave. 215.922.0866 www.museumfire.com
It’s not easy to categorize the raw, cerebral music of this trio, but “highbrow garage” is a start. The band name alone offers a kind of onomatopoeic clue. But what, really, is “Inzinzac”? Philly guitarist and composer Alban Bailly, originally from France’s Brittany region, named the trio after a small town where his brother lives. He and his partners, soprano/tenor saxophonist Dan Scofield and drummer Eli Litwin, cite progressive rock, free jazz and Balkan music among their myriad influences. If that doesn’t explain it, their 2011 High Two debut Inzinzac will. It’s raging stuff, with links to the music of Many Arms, Normal Love and others in Philly’s experimental underground. — David R. Adler
Eldar Djangirov Fri., Jan. 13, 5pm. Free with museum admission. Philadelphia Museum of Art, 26th St. and JFK Blvd. 215.763.8100.philamuseum.org
Great jazz pianists have emerged from hotbeds like Detroit and Philadelphia—and how about Bishkek, in the seldom-noted former Soviet republic of Kyrgyzstan? Eldar Djangirov is a young and fearsome player who landed a major-label deal at 17 and showed great poise and creativity on his 2005 debut, simply titled Eldar. Since then, he’s ventured into complex electric post-fusion with Re-Imagination and Virtue, but he hasn’t abandoned the acoustic sensibility at the heart of Eldar and the sophomore release Live at the Blue Note. His latest, the solo-piano keeper Three Stories, veers between jazz repertoire and treatments of Bach and Scriabin. It’s the work of a traditionalist in the best sense of the term. — David R. Adler
Ilhan Ersahin’s Istanbul Sessions Night Rider (Nublu)
By David R. Adler
As founder of the club Nublu, tenor saxophonist Ilhan Ersahin has had a notable impact on live music in New York, increasing the creative traffic between jazz improvisers, beatmakers, world music bands and avant-gardists of all stripes. Ersahin’s reach also extends to Istanbul and the nightspot Nublu Istanbul@Babylon, where jazz and club music come into contact with the sounds of Turkey and the surrounding region. The quartet project Istanbul Sessions is solidly representative of these efforts. It features the leader with Alp Ersönmez on electric bass, Izzet Kizil on percussion and Turgut Alp Bekoğlu on drums.
Ersahin has a rich and full tenor tone and good instincts as a soloist, but he’s not pushing to be the sole focus of these nine tracks. He plays through a variety of electronic effects, distorting and manipulating his sound and rendering the horn as an element in a sonic mosaic. Thanks to smart post-production and mixing, each instrument yields unexpected sounds, different ones on nearly every track. Yet the group’s previous effort, Istanbul Sessions with Erik Truffaz, featuring the renowned “nu-jazz” trumpeter, had a more alluring tonal and harmonic palette, and stronger compositions.
At a tight 40 minutes, however, Night Rider is a good listen, with vibrant beats and subtle interlocking patterns from Bekoğlu on full kit, punctuated by Kizil’s dumbek and frame drums. Ersönmez combines low bass lines with a more guitaristic and polyphonic approach, overdubbing a slick wah-wah part on the opening “Etnik” and starting his own composition “Gece Inerken” (“night descending”) with beautiful rubato fingerstyle passages. “One Zero” growls with distortion, while “Hadi Gel Artik” skips along with poppy syncopation and “Huzur” (“peace”) sounds like spacey but energized indie-rock. Is it Turkish? Somehow, yes, but this is music that wears its cosmopolitanism on its sleeve.
On releases such as Orange Blossom, Herculaneum III and Olives and Orchids, the Chicago sextet Herculaneum fashioned a sound full of urgent, percolating rhythm and well-placed dissonance — a horn-heavy aesthetic with echoes of Blue Note’s ’60s avant-garde wing. Their newest, UCHŪ, is true to form, with eight concise tracks held together by the powerful work of bassist Greg Danek and drummer Dylan Ryan.
While the Herculaneum lineup — four horns and rhythm section — remains big and compelling, UCHŪ lacks some of the timbral variation of the band’s earlier efforts. One misses the crisp guitar of John Beard and the occasional vibraphone of Ryan, which gave the group a moody chamber-jazz dimension. And yet other changes are afoot: for the first time, alto saxophonist David McDonnell, tenor saxophone/flutist Nate Lepine and trumpeter Patrick Newbery weigh in with original compositions (Ryan is normally the band’s sole composer).
“Dragon’s Office,” by McDonnell, starts the album in a springy 5/4, with snaky trombone/tenor unisons expanding into four-part voicings, lush yet wonderfully acidic. Danek bows the bass on the heavily African groove of “Elmyr” to mimic the squeaking percussion of a guica. On both these cuts McDonnell takes charge as a soloist; he returns with Dolphy-esque fire on Ryan’s “Little Murders” and Newbery’s heavy metal closer “Rumors.” Lepine’s tenor solos on “Chianti” and “Fern” also have a satisfying balance of logic and intensity. Broste’s moment comes on “Age of Iron,” a slow-swinging line by McDonnell, ideal for the lonely trombone rumination that continues as the track fades away.
Lepine’s “Fern” is the standout: unhurried, insistently grooving, with a thick harmonized horn passage that bookends the piece. Bass and drums play along the first time through, but in the final 30 seconds it’s the horns alone, laying bare the counterpoint’s nasty inner workings.
These two discs are worlds apart in some ways, but there’s a link to be found in the acute, versatile trumpet of Dave Ballou. Both sessions feature a quintet: Moon In Winter, an evocative chamber-improv date from Italian-American percussionist Andrea Centazzo, is freer in concept, while Goes Without Saying…, from the unheralded Pennsylvania bassist Peter Paulsen, is a darkly shaded postbop gem.
Peter Paulsen, a jazz bassist with extensive symphony experience, has three earlier releases to his credit (Three-Stranded Cord, Tri-Cycle, Change of Scenery). On Goes Without Saying… he brings seductive compositions to the table and leads a formidable band with Ballou on trumpet and flugelhorn, Chris Bacas on tenor and soprano, Mike Frank on piano and Chris Hanning on drums. Although the music is more tonal or mainstream than Centazzo’s, Ballou is consistent in personality, from his pinched half-valve entrance on Wayne Shorter’s “Fee-Fi-Fo-Fum” to his lyrical intensity on Kenny Wheeler’s “’Smatter” and Kenny Werner’s “Compensation” (all three of these cannily arranged by Paulsen).
