Katie Noonan does string theory

Text by Brenton Holmes

Only Katie Noonan could deliver as first course to her full-house audience an earnest young string quartet playing edgy modern art music. But it worked beautifully. The Sydney Symphony Fellowship Quartet (Freya Franzen and Monique Irik –violins; Tara Houghton –viola; Adam Szabo-cello) set the space vibrating with two of the Three Idylls (1906) by Frank Bridge before launching into String Quartet No.4 (2003) by the Latvian composer and eco-warrior Peteris Vasks. Written for the famed Kronos Quartet, the SSFSQ delivered a similar punch in a work that blended Stravinsky’s rhythmic grunt with the ferocious tonalities of Shostakovich’s late quartets.

One minor gripe. The individual instruments were fitted with the wonderful DPA clip-on condenser mics, but with the volume pumped up each instrument seemed hyper-exposed, and we lost the more blended quality that gives a string quartet its trademark unified voice.

The main event showcased Elixir’s new album First Seed Ripening, most of which comprises settings of poems by the Australian poet Tom Shapcott. The songs had been conjured into existence in the unhurried atmosphere of Arthur Boyd’s artists’ retreat Bundanon. The album uses strings to fine effect. The lyricism of Magnusson’s guitar and Hurren’s sax is the sweet, warm solder that fuses the elements together.

Katie opened the Canberra concert with the title track First Seed Ripening. Guitar and voice strolled in, Hurren prodded gently and the quartet glowed behind them. Noonan fluttered and glided around Magnusson’s simply plucked lines. Hurren slipped in a mellow solo before Magnusson joined him in what was reminiscent of a Golla and Burrows outing. The aperitif went down well.

My Skin is a Glove came next, with arranger Steve Newcombe giving the cello a hauntingly beautiful opening, the full quartet nestling in behind a tender-voiced Noonan, with a nicely understated guitar from Magnusson. The end hovered. The audience paused, rapt.

Katie then invited us to imagine tropical semi-nudity and other delights as she introduced another Tom Shapcott work, Stuff of Myths Magnusson had fun with his digitally-enhanced guitar intro before settling into a jaunty Airto Moreira feel. Noonan splashed happily in the shallows. Husband Zac’s sax joined her for some playful parallel precision work and we all came away suitably tanned.

Next came Pierrot, a Melbourne-tinged tribute to the sad clown, with an especially fine interplay between all the instruments, Magnusson’s plucking hinting at Ry Cooder. Noonan’s remarkable vocal abilities serve her well on songs like this. It is an instrument over which she exercises exquisitely subtle control.

Sleep Soundly, Peacefully was the song Katie and Zac wrote together as they anticipated parenthood for the first time. Magnusson’s intro drew the song perfectly into its lullaby mode. The room became a poetry reading. Katie Noonan can pluck a high note from anywhere and let it hang, only to lay it down gently as she would her baby’s head.

Time to switch to Radiohead In Limbo, and Elixir gave it a suitably FX treatment, looping Katie’s voice and Steve’s guitar. There was a touch of coloratura in the Noonan stratosphere, the crowd whooped its pleasure, and a clapping patron with glowing forearms caught some onstage attention.

Shapcott again manifested slightly tropical in Elixir’s efforts with Last Night’s Comfort. The jaunty Caribbean feel returned. Katie and Steve delivered some delicious duets.

Next came Tip of Memory from Elixir’s self-titled 2003 album. Essentially a waltz, and here in an arrangement by Paul Grabowsky, it was one of the evening’s highlights. Think of George Martin’s effort on Eleanor Rigby and you’ll catch the quality of Grabowsky’s work. The cello lines gave Adam Szabo a chance to shine.

Noonan made Joni Mitchell’s My Old Man her very own. Saying cheekily that she “doesn’t do covers … I prefer to think of them as tributes”, Katie delivered a tribute that Joni would have been proud of.

Three fine songs rounded out the concert. Hemispheres had the string quartet open à la Appalachian Spring, slipping neatly into Magnusson’s guitar; Nocturne satisfied in every respect; and Snapshot gave Katie Noonan the chance to remind us of just how remarkable the voice is that a jammed-packed audience had flocked to hear at the Street Theatre.

The blessing that is Elixir will be visited upon audiences around the country through September and October: Melbourne 17 September; Mullumbimby 23 September; Adelaide 7 October; Perth 8&9 October; Hobart 13 October; Launceston 14 October.

Masters, young and old (DHJF-2)

It was Ron Carter who brought me to Sydney for the Darling Harbour Jazz Festival this year, but I’m a bass player and I know that plenty of guitarists came for Kurt Rosenwinkel. These are very big names and they were accompanied by other big names. Quite spectacular.

Firstly, Ron Carter. I was lucky enough to catch him twice: in the rain at DHJF and at the Basement the following night. He’s an absolute legend, of course, and I was not surprised or disappointed by his identifiable playing. Large hands, very lank and bony, and a sound that’s so hard it’s like concrete. This was stunning and unique. He’s not young and everyone was suffering from the cold, so the Basement show was the more comfortable, but both shows were impressive. This was sweet, correct, solid mainstream playing. I felt he struggled with a few things he attempted, from age or the cold, but I’d still dream of playing just a part of it with his authority and deceptive simplicity. Fabulous and so easily swinging with the most clear of bass lines that always served the tune as master. I was not the only one to notice how solid was the groove despite the lack of a drummer. This man is a rhythm unit in one performer and beautifully undemonstrative at that: deceptively simple and easily embellished. His offsiders were no slouches, of course. Mulgrew Miller was a delight with easily lyrical and occasionally dissonant statements that were so sweet and unforced, sliding off the fingers with no strain of performance or thought. This was the key: easy, comfortable improv and melody with the most perfect of swings. Guitarist Russell Malone was the youngster with an evident respect for his elders, but he was no underling. Always a ready smile and with eyes that caught every nuance, sharp and choppy backing and bluesy solos that again were deceptive in their intuitiveness. Wonderful, sharp and satisfying playing from the seniors of our art. The Ron Carter Trio are RC (bass), Mulgrew Miller (piano) and Russell Malone (guitar).

Secondly, Kurt Rosenwinkel. I’ve noticed how my guitarist mates speak in awe when KR’s name is mentioned, and I met a female bassist who’d flown from New Zealand to hear him, so KR is seriously admired. I’d heard him at Wang but in unfortunate acoustics. This time, I heard clearly and understood some of the excitement. This was Kurt’s Standards Trio with Eric Revis and Justin Falkiner. A formidable group. I noticed KR’s easy fluency and knowledge of the fingerboard, but that’s to be expected, but I also noticed a chordal approach that blended chords and melody or solos easily. His sound had some obvious gentle echo or reverb and occasional mild distortion, but essentially this was clearly spoken fluency, not effects. And the fluency was devastating at times. Solo lines covering three or more octaves seemed to drop with ease, and those fingers shaped into delightful chords and resolved into single note work. An object lesson in technique and a delight with clear sound. Both his associates took significant roles, especially drums, but I did feel that the guitar was clear leader. Eric Revis had a surprisingly soft tone, but maybe highlighted after hearing Ron Carter’s solidity. I’d been thinking of the training of some of the US drummers I’ve heard recently, especially given their concentration on snare and rudiments, but Justin was more tom-centred and thus softly sounding. Again, drums were easily concordant with the others, but this is perhaps the essence of a standards trio. The standards were Monk’s Reflections, Invitation, Goodbye pork pie hat, Bud Powell’s Blue pearl and Wayne Shorter’s Fall. A lesson in technique and gentle interaction. The Kurt Rosenwinkel Standards Trio are KR (guitar), Eric Revis (bass) and Justin Faulkner (drums).

Lastly, a mention of some big local names. Katie Noonan’s Elixir was supporting Ron Carter on his Australian tour and appeared early in the long night at the Basement. To me, Elixir continue the song tradition that predates jazz. Not surprising, given that Katie has classical training. This is a beautiful, mobile, soprano voice and wonderfully expressive of very thoughtful and considered words. There were some original compositions, but also several songs with words from poet Thomas Shapcott. The lyrics were superb, earthy, purposefully repeated, of love and life (to a woman pregnant; of love remembered semi-naked on a beach) with well-timed rough-hewn sensuality. Steve Magnusson’s accompanying guitar was precise with a sense of independent time that was formidable. Zac Hurren’s soprano sax was admirably restrained (I’ve seen him in full flight, and he can be a challenge) with lyrical lines and up-turned endings, but he did inject just a touch of dissonance towards the end. To my ear, this was sublime song in the long song tradition with just a touch of jazz influence. Elixir are Katie Noonan (vocals), Zac Hurren (soprano sax) and Steve Magnusson (guitar).

A different ship

The Captains came for Floriade, ie, Katie Noonan and the Captains. Not all the Captains, because Katie usually uses a bassist and ex-Canberran Stu Hunter on keyboards. Today, it was just two guitars and drums with Katie on keys, glockenspiel and vocals. But the Canberra connection was maintained given one of those guitarists was Ben Hauptmann (who’s also returning for Jazz Uncovered next week). In addition, Katie included a string quartet which I think was local (I’m sure I’ve seen one of the violinists in the Canberra Symphony Orchestra). So the ship was changed, but the destination was the same, and the voyage was interesting and worthwhile.

We can expect interest from Katie Noonan. She sings songs with a complex and mobile voice. The songs are written by her, the band, also in conjunction with the best Australian songwriters (Don Walker, Paul Kelly, Neil Finn). And the songs are wholesome if exposed with songs of family and husband (challenging jazz tenor saxist Zac Hurren). The arrangements are anything but jazz or rock or most pop, even. Then reminded me at times of Beatles, with sheets of music, rock drums with guitars providing harmonies and colours, overdriven and sustained, texture rather than solos, laid back tempos. It’s not a music of individuals, other than the singer, but of an ensemble. The string quartet easily fitted the approach. There were dynamics and crescendos and sustained loud passages that were emotionally intense, almost anthemic. I loved the pretty glockenspiel that Katie often played in place of keys. I’d gone looking forward to hearing a big PA in an open space. I find it a pleasure these days, when sound is good. This wasn’t. It was a dirtier, boofy PA, more suited to rougher rock than something with this detail, harsh, edgy and indistinguishing. Heavy on bass, so the drums were quite unbalanced: heavy kick and floor toms, and ride cymbal and high hats that got lost. Strange, really, when the clear glock and strings call for something so different. It’s the modern linear arrays that I like: I’ve heard some lovely PAs like this with power and also detail and a crystalline, clear sound. This was a professional show, and impressive, but there was little audience response, and no encore, and the end came somewhat with a whimper. Sad, because this was very impressive popular music.

Katie Noonan (keyboards, glokenspiel, vocals) led the Captains comprising Cameron Dale (guitar), Ben Hauptmann (guitar, mandolin) and Declan Kelly (drums, percussion). They were accompanied by a string quartet comprising Pip, Catherine, Liz and Martin (Katie didn’t give the full names).

Windswept gums

I wasn’t the only one held up in the Goulburn traffic. Yesterday one mate told me he’d blown two tickets when he missed Wayne Shorter. He’d left at 3pm, only 30 minutes after us, but he wasn’t as lucky as we were. Some other friends, Sue and Len, went to the Day on the Green event in Bowral. They left in the morning and saw the overturned car and truck that caused all the mayhem. This Day on the Green was a women’s jazz event, with Katie Noonan and the Captains, Melody Gardot, Madeleine Peyroux and Diana Krall. I read a mixed review in the paper, but Sue enjoyed it well enough and they are capable singers. Here’s Sue’s report:

Day on the Green from Whispering Gums blog

Not yet arboreal

What can you say about the Arboretum? It will be wonderful in 20 years, providing we have enough water in this post-climate-change world to keep the trees alive. I can only hope we do, but fear otherwise. But despite the bare grounds and infrequent plantings, it was a good afternoon with bands on the Open Day. Windy, mainly due to a lack of tree breaks. (But now I am being naughty!). The Lethals were playing as I arrived: Leigh “Lethal” Miller (bass) with Hugh Deacon (drums) and Matt Lustri (guitar). It sounded boomy from a distance, but it stopped by the time I got anywhere near the stage, so nothing to report.

But I was there for Katie Noonan, famed classically trained singer, and front person for george and Paul Grabowski and now a Beatles cover album. Highly trained, able to sing from the highest balcony. This was Katie and she did not disappoint. She was basically singing pop for this incarnation: grooves, a few repeated chords without complex extensions, straight drums holding it together. But the voice was magical in its quality and expressiveness and range; the grooves were strong and of complexity; the guitar was effected and echoed and often clangingly dissonant with chordal solos that decried jazz lines; Stu Hunter’s keyboard bass lines were richly polyrhythmic and almost uncountable at times. Yeah, it was pop, but at such a level of sophistication that I was embraced. This lithe voice (she joked of Kate Bush fantasies) that pirouetted over the often unreadable and always dramatic understory, with lyrics of love and loss and the profundities of the personal. There were tunes from george, and tunes from a new album they are preparing. All originals; all with lust for life and a parallel despair. Apparently Katie is a greenie, recently moving to the bush with her family. More prosaically, Stu is Weston boy, and the band had eaten breakfast locally with Mum and Dad that morning. This was essentially pop, but done with some purpose and profundity that it was a work of art. Lovely, touching music. Perhaps too much boofy bass and volume, but what can you expect of a hired PA?

Katie Noonan (vocals, keyboards) played with Stu Hunter (keyboards, keyboard bass), Captain Cameron Dale (guitar) and Declan Kelly (drums) appearing as the Captains.

I just caught a few tunes from Blamey Street Big Band before I left. This is a local outfit led by Ian McLean. They play the mainstream repertoire of BB tunes: All of me, Boogie woogie bugle boy, Do you know what it means to miss New Orleans, and the like. Rachel Thorne was out front for the tunes I heard, and she was strong and capable. The band itself warmed to the task, and was playing straight but pretty reliably as I left. They are a common sight around town: CSCC, festivals, other gigs. Catch them for a mainstream hoot. A big, traditional big band in the style of Glen Miller and Basie and Ellington. Hard to maintain, but a great local resource.

The Blamey Street Big Band was led by Ian McLean with Rachel Thorne on vocals.