Revisiting the ninth movement

It’s not right that bands should be so mature at 22. Movement 9 played jazz, not pop or rock. This is a complex art form, so how can Joe McEvilly compose and arrange and lead a 9-piece band of such quality in just his second year of tertiary studies? It just goes to show he’s talented and committed and he’s had quality training. And I’m not the only one who thinks it. They were heard playing one of their first gigs at Canberra’s Floriade and were invited to perform at the Wangaratta Festival, Australian’s premiere modern jazz outing. It was in these auspicious circumstances that Movement 9 performed for the final student concert at the Jazz School.

What a blast it was: a melange of styles, mostly original compositions but also clever arrangements played by a great band of the most capable students. You may wonder when you listen to their skills, but they are students. This night they invited several mentors, Eric Ajaye on bass, Miroslav Bukovsky on trumpet and John Mackey on tenor. All experienced and renowned players and all at ease with a band like this. Coltrane’s Giant steps is a favourite tune of John Mackey and Joe’s arrangement was a tour de force. He hadn’t just written harmonies for horns, but he’d reconstructed the feel and time sense to twist memories and still present a joyous playtime for the duelling pair of altoist Matt and tenor John. This was both a blow and a blowout, but also an ingenious rethinking of this challenging standard. That was the end of the night. Before this there were a string of different feels and times and styles: attractive, theatrical, commercial. This was clever writing and the performers played up to the opportunity. Strings of solos, trombone, trumpet, piano, bass, several drum explorations, the best I’ve heard from Henry on drums. These were big, bold sounds and indulgent grooves and they were an inspiration. Tate was studied and expansive as always, even if undemonstrative in stage presence. The trumpet pairing of Ax and Tom were in friendly but serious competition. Matt is just a master, always lyrically clear and never a faked note despite exuberant flourishes. Raf was all smiles and groove and chops as the bass doubler. I only remember one solo from Oshein, fat and bluesy. Patrick’s trombone got quite a workout. Joe himself, led from the bottom, on baritonesax, but he’s equally comfortable on alto. I think of Mingus with his heavy baritone parts and his compositions and think this fits nicely.

Other tunes? They open with a tight rollicking latin with Lola quotes and Cuban trumpets. Then a chart that could have come from variety TV, swinging lightly with a quizzical melody and cool solos. Then a blues-influenced medium tempo hard bop called Green dreaming. Then Wings with a Steely Dan influence that Joe admittedly that he garnered from his parents. Then Winter hymn, a touching secular melody. Then a blow on Supercollider, a favourite big band piece at the Jazz School, featuring the chops of much loved teacher Eric Ajaye. There’s another for composition teacher Miro, slow and with space for Miro’s trumpet and another drum feature. Then Cool change, a laid back cocktail bar latin. Then Pinoaks and that rebuild of Giant steps and a 7/4 groove and a final encore. This is clever and surprisingly mature and varied music. A fat and tight band sound and capable solos and some great writing. The band has done the dying jazz school proud. Eric Ajaye spoke to an assembled audience that students should live their dreams, despite the demise of our jazz school here in Canberra. These guys may be products of a dying institution, but they are proof that it was a success. This was a seriously mature and capable and involving band and I loved it.

Movement 9 is led by Joe McEvilly (baritone sax) with Ax Long (trumpet), Tom Sly (trumpet, flugelhorn), Matt Handel (alto), Oisin Smith-Coburn (tenor), Patrick Langdon (trombone), Tate Sheridan (piano), Raf Jerjen (bass) and Henry Rasmussen (drums). Eric Ajaye (bass), Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet) and John Mackey (tenor) sat in for one tune each.

For Canberra’s 100th

I feel bereft and the final student concert at the Jazz School the other night had a sad, even teary, air about it. Eric Ajaye raised spirits with a dignified personal-recovery-from-adversity oration, and that’s admirable and true, at least to some degree. Joe McEvilly was leading the band and I was impressed by both his musical and personal maturity (he’s only 20!) as he avoided being overly political, recognising it was “too late for us” but maybe there was a future for others. I understand current students still don’t know what’s on offer next year. Some are leaving; some are staying to finish. One parent has told me of a student who had been offered a transfer but that it would extend his course by one year. Enrolments are down ~25% but the new Director expects full enrollment by the start of year. It’s a common expectation amongst the jazz community that no-one would come to Canberra for the new course. Perhaps students will pursue it as a second degree and that has some value and it’s cheaper. Good luck to the few worthy staff that remain (let alone those who have left). I imagine it will be a hard road to travel. This from an institution that been with us for half of Canberra’s 99 year life. I’m thinking that the Music School may have been the most popular cultural institution in Canberra. Certainly, tens of thousands of Canberrans signed a petition and all parties in the Legislative Assembly were disappointed with the ANU decision. Is this a 1975 Dismissal moment? The comparison sits easily with me. Remember the suddenness; remember the widely despised GG John Kerr; remember “Mantain the rage”; remember the rent to the Australian fabric. I can imagine an emotional void down Marcus Clarke St right now and some friends speak of it. My more cynical friends predict investments in high rise next to Llewellyn in a few years. I was terribly disappointed by the arguments presented, but the weakest must be to call up the conservative-bugbear of “elites”. How is this elite? Elite as in intellect and discovery like Nobel Prizes? Elite as in high university rankings? Elite as in musicians who are renowned and tour the world? Or elite as in Occupy’s 1% and $?m heads of corporations and too big to fail. With our whole society, even universities, taking the corporate path, it makes you wonder. Yep, the school was elite, but in performance not wealth and that seems perfectly admirable to me and Canberra was the better for its musical success. So, excuse the lack of a concert report. Suffice to say that it was very good. They are invited to play at Wangaratta, Australia’s main modern jazz festival, this weekend. That’s elite, stunningly so for a few students with original charts. But what more to say? Farewell.

Movement 9 played at the final ANU School of Music student jazz series of 2012. Movement 9 is a platform for arrangements and compositions by Joe McEvilly (baritone sax) with Ax Long (trumpet), Tom Sly (trumpet, flugelhorn), Matt Handel (alto), Oisin Smith-Coburn (tenor), Patrick Langdon (trombone), Tate Sheridan (piano), Raf Jerjen (bass) and Henry Rasmussen (drums). Eric Ajaye (bass), Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet) and John Mackey (tenor) sat in for one tune each.

For a full report on the concert rather than a paean over the jazz school, see Revisiting the ninth movement

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

Chitlins and gravy

Party gravy is just a winning name (even if I don’t know what chitlins are). So was the band. Rough at times, but alive and infectious with funereal joy.
Funereal joy? As in New Orleans, with musicians accompanying coffins and the sombre turning to merriment. It’s not as strange as it sounds, of course. Wakes have a way of releasing you from the mundane and renewing bonds and often end in a charming mix of joy and melacholy, and often too much grog. Party gravy may have been playing the New Orleans funeral standards but this was for a modern Australian audience that wouldn’t know such funerals other than mythically. This was Fathers day and there were lots of little kids and the place was busy with swing dancers and drawn beers. Bite to Eat Café is a lively and friendly place that appeals to all ages with its ‘50s laminex demeanor and cosmopolitan vivacity. I only caught the second set, but one hour made my day. This was a place of generous and indiscriminate smiles, as a social venue should be, and the band provided the perfect ambience. Set two, first tune, was the classic Just a closer walk with thee; second tune, Down by the riverside. Then a medley of modern tunes funked up in marching band style: Pumped up kicks / Foster People, Boulevard of broken dreams / Green Day and Mad world / Tears for Fears>REM. Then an original, written just days before, called The Kraken. One more, then Feel like funking it up. By this time, the dancing kids had left the aisles and the adults were at it. Then it wound down and we were off to a quieter night, but joyous and enlivened.

I should just mention one touch of seriousness. I’m not one for the militarisation of the public which has been happening over recent years, but I do feel the loss of one of three soldiers in Afghanistan in recent days. He was from Canberra and was just a year ahead of one of my kids at school. My best wishes to his family. Like any funeral, this, too, had its solemn side. Good on the band for dedicating Closer walk to him. Party Gravy is a New Orleans-style Brass Band comprising Tom Sly and Ax Long (trumpet), Andrew Kimber (alto sax), Tye Langford (baritone sax), Josh Hart and Patrick Langdon (trombone), Sam McNair and Mark Slegers (drums) and Alec Coulson (bass).

PS: Now I know. Chitlins is an abbreviated form for chitterlings: chit•ter•lings [chit-linz, -lingz] noun ( used with a singular or plural verb ) the small intestine of swine, especially when prepared as food. ( http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/chitterlings , viewed 3 Sep 2012).

Old and young guns, pt.1

The concert was entitled 21+75 because it marked the recent birthdays of each artist. Andy Butler was the junior; Bernie McGann the senior. If this expresses the quality of jazz in Australia as it has been and as it will be, I can only be proud. These were two seriously satisfying sets, and I was not the only one who left in thrall.

Andy led a big band (and for one tune, an octet) performing a series of charts that he’s developed with sponsorship and mentoring from Steve Newcomb under an Australia Council program. I know the band is brought together for this performance, so I was mightily impressed by how easily the band took to the charts. They weren’t easy, with odd times and syncopated conversational passages back and forth between parts. There may have been a touch of hesitation from the horns but nothing at all from Mark on drums. I particularly noticed his solo, which was solid, even magisterial. And a mix on a decent PA made all the difference. You always hear the snakey reeds and the blasting trumpets, but the tuba can be lost with its bell pointing to the ceiling. Tonight it was here and proud and speaking with its own voice. There were solos all round, of course, but the excitement here is in the tone and the orchestration and composition. The first tune was as yet unnamed and I heard it in 7/4 but perhaps with 4/4 passages. Poco was a highly syncopated unyielding pattern over 16 with a buzzing bee swarm as resolution. I missed the third tune’s title, but it was sleazy and slow and arranged for octet. The big band returned for Ode to Skype, if I remember correctly, in triple time. Andy later told me he communicates with Steve (and his girlfriend) over Skype. The final tune was Tightrope. There as a lively buzz in the foyer after Andy’s concert: for the pride in achievement as well as for the beer line. This gig was joyously received and Andy was talking of other gigs. But how to do this with such a large outfit? We can only hope.

Andy Butler (piano, composer) led big band comprising John Mackey, Niels Rosendahl, Matt Handel, Tom Fell (saxes), Miroslav Bukovsky, Alex Raupach, Ax Long, Scott Temby (trumpets), Rob Lee, Valdis Thomann, Patrick Langdon (trombones), Peter McGovern (tuba), Max Alduca (bass) and Mark Sutton (drums)

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart