Showing posts with label Dan Junor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dan Junor. Show all posts

12 May 2013

Big night out : indie


There’s been so little jazz recently so I was annoyed to have conflicts. We’d had tickets for the CSO concert for some time so I expected I’d miss Lucian McGuiness, but his gig started late and I managed at least one set (and a few bars of the first).

I really liked this. Lucian lives in Amsterdam these days, but wrote and arranged a set of tunes with Sarah McCallum (aka Miss Little) over the Net. There’s a lovely mix of influences here, rockabilly, jazz, indie / folk, so I could imagine all sorts of audiences. It would be as presentable on JJJ as it is on ABC RN and perhaps insinuating itself onto Dig Jazz. And beyond all this, there’s also a gentleness with the two percussionists in place of drums: much softer, less insistent, although I also heard some heavy deep kick-equatable thumps from the cajon at times. Sarah’s voice is not one of power and there’s no scat. To my ears, this is the indie influence, that soft, folk-influenced style that’s so popular these days. But she also takes an intriguing harmonic role, often spelling chords with the two horns, virtually taking an instrument. The song titles, and what lyrics I heard, suggest some fairly serious personal messages shared through story-telling, but I didn’t catch much. I loved the guitar solos of chunky tone and indeterminate pitch, all country licks and vibrato chords, although like everything here, always with a jazz awareness and training. Zoe and the rest of the band sits into this gentle country-presence over a sea of percussion which was present and underlying but not at all prominent. These are capable but unassuming musicians. OF all the players, the two horns said jazz to me most of all. Both played solos of complexity although not abandon, and their written lines were sweet and of one mind and comfortable in the context. It might sound simple and relaxed and even playing at hick at times, but there’s a good deal of sophistication to do just this. I enjoyed the gig immensely. The instrumentals I heard were a touchingly beautiful take on Leonard Cohen’s Hey that’s no way to say goodbye as a slow shuffle and Bowie’s Oh you pretty things. The storytelling originals included Suzanne (not Leonard Cohen’s) and Victoria and This train (you rode). Tom Fell joked that Tom Vincent would return the Loft’s jazz cred when he played there the following week, but jazz is a many splendoured thing these days. Music is all just 12 notes anyway (admittedly a simplification) and it’s all merged together these days; all part of the luscious sounds we call music. This is a very attractive and amenable and subtly sophisticated branch. Loved it.

My Goodness McGuiness was led by Lucian McGuiness (trombone) with Sarah McCallum / Miss Little (vocals), Dan Junor (alto), Julian Curwin (guitar), Zoe Hauptmann (bass), James Hauptmann (percussion) and Fabian Hevia (percussion).

17 December 2011

Fine and spacious

When Lucian McGuiness brought his quartet to the Loft, he had given it a name: Impermanent Quartet. I like that. It speaks of change and this band is aware of change. Where there’s change, there’s no end of history, and I felt an awareness of history in this sound.

The band is trombone, alto, bass and drums so it’s chordless. This lineup lends the sound an indistinct, open feeling and leaves lots of space. I heard the guys filling with delicious harmonies and counterpoint, a quite surprising empathy from the two horns and an easy, unforced, but inquisitive take on melody. This was not the jazzer as individualist heroic soloist. This was soloist as a searcher for purposeful lines and as a bouncing musical collaborator. There’s a reason for the responsiveness of the horns to each other. Lucian and Dan had played together from schooldays, through music school and into professional life. There were a few points where I felt the found harmonies and the unison lines were so close as to be telepathic. I hadn’t picked it up, but Alex mentioned a similar relationship between trom and bass. The high bass notes reach into tenor territory shared with trombone, and Alex spoke of enjoying this interplay. Even the drums came in on this, when spaces opened for tiny two or four bar solos. I heard history in the simple melodic concepts, but the present in some unexpected intervals and structures and a certain ironic humour in the take on melody. There was history, too, in the collective soloing, although the twisting and weaving through rich syncopations and polyrhythms was modern. I wasn’t surprised to hear a Dave Holland tune, because there’s a similar web of sound woven by that band, or to hear tunes by trombonists Nils Wogram or Bob Brookmeyer. But most tunes were by Lucian. I guessed it was a standing joke that the tunes had human names: James, Angel, Ray, Paul, Charlie and Victoria. Victoria was a lovely slow unison melody. I heard hints of Zoe Hauptman’s Buttercups and wondered if this might be a Sydney style, but the Hauptmans were also in Lucian’s school band/music school milieu and they still play together, so maybe it’s just this Canberra/Sydney coterie. What other impressions? Strongly syncopated pedals on bass and some wonderful bass solos there were common when the two horns dropped out; plenty of changes of time – fours and sixes and a five; easy swings and pre-bop sensibility on the Brookmeyer tune; volume at a subdued human level; careful articulation that confirmed for me their concern with melody.

This was open, informed, approachable music with a deceptive simplicity and I loved it. The Impermanent Quartet was led by Lucian McGuiness (trombone) with Dan Junor (alto sax), Alex Boneham (bass) and Jamie Cameron (drums).

07 July 2010

Out of El Rocco

It’s several times now that Geoff Page has brought our jazz history to Canberra, and it’s a fascinating and valuable exposure. This time it was pianist Chuck Yates, who used to play at the legendary El Rocco in Sydney in the ‘50s, and Ron Philpott, electric bassist with Judy Bailey in Sydney in the ‘70s. They were accompanied by Col Hoorweg, who I remember through the ‘80s backing big names visitors with John Carrick at the Southern Cross Club, and James Ryan, originally from Darwin but once a student here in Canberra but now thriving in the Sydney jazz scene. These historical performances usually cover the generations, and they are the better for it. This was a genuinely hard-ahead outing exploring pre-modal-era standards. The solos were sometimes rough-edged but hard and committed and fluent from all instruments.

Firstly the tunes. A few from Monk including Round Midnight. I felt a freshness here. These are overwhelmingly well-known tunes, but they seemed to be closely felt, like they were the tunes of the musicians’ era, which is pretty true for Chuck, and not particularly true for younger musicians. Otherwise, lively swingers and latins: I’ll remember April started the night, Invitation, Daahood, and Kenny Barron’s Tragic magic. James Ryan’s A Date with Yate was the one original of the night. There was one fairly short but beautifully stated solo piano piece from Chuck that was recognisable but which I couldn’t place. And a final blues with Sydney-based Canberran, Dan Junor, sitting in on Alto. This one gelled with harmony horn lines (Dan did some great work here, finding unexpected and challenging harmonies), and very diverse styles of solos from the two saxes out front (Dan more clinical and restrained; James letting go with Coltrane-influenced extravagance). Two sets with ten tunes.

Despite, or maybe because of, the years, Chuck is in fine form. His playing was diverse and changeable. His best showed simple but lovely phrasing, a creativity that had him moving freely, sometimes ranging widely over the keyboard, sometimes intervallic or dissonant with altered extensions. His face and eyes gave him away as an effective listener, too. Ron interested me as a bassist and as a blast from my past. He was an unusual proposition: electric bass played with a pick, through a JBL powered Eon PA bin with stereo EQ (he told me it was originally for a stereo Rickenbacker - another throwback to that era - that he used to play but which was stolen). I thought of Steve Swallow but there was little similarity to my ears. It was good solid accompaniment, and the one time I noticed a walk, it was swinging and well formed, but he was more a soloist. And interesting and capable solos they were, well up the neck, lovely arpeggiated phrasings that sounded of sax conceptions. I wasn’t too keen on his tone. It was pretty rough, even for electric, and middy, which is common to electric basses but is not the gentle presence of the acoustic bass. But the soloing was great. Maybe it’s just me reading his age, but James seemed more modern to me. He started with some wonderful Contranesque fast and harmonically rich playing on the opener, I’ll remember April, and finished on that style in the final blues. In between, it was less extreme, more bluesy. Either way, the playing was great. But what got me was a big sound with a slight metallic edge. I really liked James’ tenor. From the stage patter, it was obvious that Col had not played much, if at all, with Chuck before, but he presented well. Col has a unique style and sound. He’s got an interest in tonality and percussion that he used for the introduction to James’ original. He’s a solid timekeeper with a unique rhythmic ear: simple and open, often very cross rhythmic, playing long-sustained grooves that set an environment that’s often in contrast with the other players. It’s this solid and sustained contrary sensitivity that define his drumming for me. Dan Junor sat in on alto for the final blues. Obviously he had little time to warm up, but I heard him as very interesting on harmonies with the tenor, and defined and purposeful in soloing. But one tune’s not enough to know.

So, a historical outing that was both interesting and worthy. Chuck Yates (piano) led a quartet with James Ryan (tenor), Ron Philpott (electric bass) and Col Hoorweg (drums). Dan Junor (alto) sat in for the last tune.

08 December 2006

Jess & Niels

Last night’s White Eagle was a night of maturity in several ways. In the musical sense, it was a homecoming for two wayfarers and ex-Jazz School students, and both presented mature, developed music. In the performance sense, it was a big night at the White Eagle, with perhaps 150 people in attendance at the last show of 2006.

The crowd celebrated the end of a great first year for the White Eagle sessions. Earlier this year, several jazz students took on the task of presenting themselves and developing their own venue. Like Jazzgroove in Sydney, they’ve taken control of their own art through a cooperative venture. It gives Canberra a venue for performances by its own peripatetic offspring jazzers, and gives the current crew of developing musos a venue to perform, meet and jam. And the big turnout included the families of some of the visiting players as well as lovers of the art. So congrats to Ed, Phill and Hannah for the White Eagle success.

The first players of the night were the Niels Rosendahl Quartet. Niels has just arrived back after a year travelling in Europe and SE Asia, and further studying his tenor sax. He instantly impressed me with a new calmness and sureness in his presence; with clear and purposeful improvisations; with understated but nonetheless fast and complex lines; with clear and impassioned articulation. What he played was necessary, not just impressive. Niels had recommended a book to me the previous night, “Zen guitar”, as a good read, so it was no surprise that exuded a zen-like bearing on the night. He’s obviously developed immensely after time in SE Asia and Europe, mostly in Edinburgh. From the rubato start of “God bless ye merry gentlemen”, to another rubato section on the final tune, “Silent night”, the selections were apt and the performance was convincing. Otherwise the band played various original tunes by Neils and Michael A.

From left, Niels, Michael, Ed and Bill

The band was an impressive unit: Michael Azzopardi (piano), Ed Rodrigues (drums) and Bill Williams (bass) accompanied Niels Rosendahl (tenor sax). Michael played with incredible energy and commitment as always; Ed was connected and interpretive; Bill was a rock with strong walks, and intriguing solos with a hard, clear tone. Ed told me afterwards that he felt all was inevitable and correct while playing with Neils. It showed. Niels finished the night by inviting John Mackey up for a minor blues, so it all ended with the local tenor masters at play. Niels continues to improve and impress; watch him.

The Jess Green Septet was totally another proposition. Jess composes and leads a band with a broad, inclusive, world style. There were infectious rhythms borrowed from all over the place (rockabilly, blues, garage bands and reggae were in there, and she has a connection with, and influence from, Ghana). There were varied time signatures (7/4, 5/4, lots of triple times, 3/4 or 6/4, as well as the old standard, 4/4). There were varied harmonies and counterpoint in the 4-part horn section. So this was orchestrated music, of a modern, global style, with jazz leanings, and plenty of improvisation. What got me about the improvisations was the appropriateness of the solos to the musical context. As well as actively leading the band, Jess plays guitar. She did several wonderful, understated solos with soft picking and a bell-like tone on her Telecaster Thinline (the semi-acoustic model with humbucker pickups), as well as holding lots of rhythms with riffs or even simple chordal work. All the horns played solos, as did drums and bass. In one spot, there was an unusual combination of trumpet soloing against drums, then becoming more standard as the bass joined the action. Zoe Hauptmann is a great bassist, and I loved her immensely fitting solos on two tunes. Her match with the rhythm and groove and horn-based harmonies, and the spaces she left for the horn parts, were immaculate. I was taken by her great, solid tone, too. She works the strings hard, and the resulting sound is solid and dirty and endlessly reliable. I also particularly liked the varied harmonies from the horn section. The writing was good, and the players combined beautifully. And Chris T, sitting in for the night of drums, did a great job. So this was another mature offering; this time of original, contemporary, world-style music.

Jess Green with her Dad and brother

The Jess Green Septet were: Jess Green (guitar, composer, leader), Matt Keegan (tenor sax), Dan Junor (alto sax), John Hibbard (trombone), Simon Ferenci (trumpet), Zoe Hauptmann (bass), Chris Thwaite (drums, replacing Evan Mannell).

It looks like there’s no White Eagle session in January, but expect a return in February.

  • Jess Green's new CD, "Singing fish"
  • Niels Rosendahl's MySpace site
  •