Women and men

We'll I don't warm to identity arguments.  The second wave feminism that I easily supported fifty years ago was a claim to equal treatment where it was missing, like women being required to leave some employment on marriage and pay that was different for the same job, and it was a recovery of the first wave with its trivially obvious demand for the vote and the like, but listening to Matilda Abraham I feel that intense comprehension and response to personal matters and I recognise it often enough from women and I wonder where I hear it from men.  Maybe it's there and I don't come across it.  It's certainly not in my rants (as Megan calls them!) as The Pots.  She was at Matilda too and admired it and just said people are different.  There's strength in that openness to people and experience without too much ideology.  Whatever, I admire Matilda's awareness and I was entranced to catch the emotionally charged lyrics.  The backing was pretty minimal, just simple piano accompaniment (apparently her first piano accompanied solo gig) and sometimes an aged drum machine (amusingly recovered from her Dad's shed) with very simple grooves.  The complexity was in the truth of the lyrics and at least one that I noticed with an intricate melody of divergent intervals and comfortable leading notes and assorted note lengths.  That one was Tender lament and its melody was a stunner.  She played a few covers, too, form Minnie Ripperton and Sade and even Kylie, but Matilda's presence remained central.  Matilda was playing for family and friends on a late-announced Smiths gig so it was an intimate gathering, coming from Berlin with Carl and young Abe for Christmas.  Carl sat in for the final number with a devastating solo.  What with a family and this musical prowess all round, Berlin must be doing them good.  It would.  It's renowned and I'm not surprised.  Check out Matilda's string of songs, EPs and an album on the streaming sites.

Matilda Abraham (keys, vocals, compositions) performed at Smiths.  Carl Morgan (guitar) sat in for the final tune.

Do

There are various thoughts I have with our Smiths visit by Matilda and Carl.  It's a return from Berlin, so international, probably somewhat delayed by Covid.  And a tour from throughout Australia, with input from Sydney and Perth.  It's a blast from the past, as I remember Carl and Matilda as students here at the ANU.  It puts a local and informal tinge on a devastating concert.  The immense skills but also the careful expression of them, so nothing seemed showy even as it was virtuosic.  I got taken aback or just amused by some overwhelming fills or licks from Carl or Hugh or that kick-heavy thump with complexity but inevitability from Ben.  And the wonderful richness of jazz applied to emotionally-rich lyrics from Matilda's first set, and even the raunchy and one somewhat comical expletive-laden rant (humour with a cutting edge, think Carl even if Matilda sang).  That last is one for an E-symbol in Spotify.  Hard to miss!  But I dearly love this interplay of pop and jazz with the breathtaking jazz-informed solos and the words to spread further, to speak to a newer listening cohort.  I remain in awe the next morning.  Just breathtaking.

Matilda Abraham (vocals, midi) led one set with Carl Morgan (guitar, bass, vocals), Hugh Barrett (keys, synth bass) and Ben Vanderwal  (drums, midi, vocals) at Smiths.  Carl led the second set with the same players as Dodo.

Baring souls

This was a wonderful, touching, personal concert featuring two wonderful, capable jazz-trained singers singing mostly their own compositions. Most singers in jazz are women. Not sure why but maybe the pitch fits. The higher pitches seem more honoured, the sopranos over the altos and the tenors over the basses (although I've noticed Jesus or respected prophets were often bass, at least in the baroque era). And many women sing of personal issues as if they own that space (they so often do, and I say that with respect and even awe). This was like that. Kristin speaking of her children, writing for them; Matilda writing of love tested and explored. Familiar territory for women, perhaps, too often unknown terrain for men. Now it shouldn't be that way and the essences of women and men shouldn't be profoundly different (under my second-wave feminist awareness) but they often are. Maybe we are surfing an interim level till we reach something higher. In the meantime, I guess it holds. But on the other side, it can be revealing and that may be just the thing of love songs and nothing to matter for unknown voices on the radio, but in people you know it may be a little too much to know. Again, maybe not for women who talk lots of many things, but for emotionally-simple blokes who just drink beer together. So the topics were profound and personal (not always - Kristin's "Full on the new" was just a delicious funky take on the excitement of visiting a new town). The singing all round was to die for: Kristin more embellished; Matilda more constant. Just fabulous, delicious, skilled and detailed and careful and correct and toneful. And the accompaniment was gloriously apt although very different. Kristin was sparse but wonderfully effective with piano-like chords on a tiny midi keyboard (the key size was a test!). Matilda used electronics more, adding a second (tinier) keyboard and Ableton or the like, so more orchestral. Both were a pleasure. We were surrounded by Matilda's family and friends for her visit gig from Berlin. I took a sojourning mate from Paris/Melbourne and he commented on how nice was the mix of ages. I like that too. We both liked the whole thing lots and lots.

Kristin Berardi (vocals) and Matilda Abraham (vocals) performed at Smiths.

Enabling the indie song

These guys are all jazz trained but I had no expectation to hear Jazz. That's how things are these days. I like it like that. There's a catholicity in music and especially amongst young trained jazzers and it shows. This was Matilda Abraham with Carl Morgan and, at the last moment, as he was in town from Berlin and his other gig was called off, Aidan Lowe. I also like this like that. Jazz trained performers are, well, trained, so Aidan could get called in to do an indie-pop set with complex written syncopations, some of which he'd have to introduce, and do a perfectly capable job. But this was Matilda's show. They were mainly her originals, in a Triple-J style that I call indie or maybe experimental pop. This was underlying sequenced instrumentation and even harmonies with voice and additional keys and bass or guitar and drums overlaid for the immediacy that make live music live. Matilda's writing is personal, often venting emotions, clear in intent although I didn't catch all the lyrics. One told of annoyance after a bad party; another a feminist line against Abbott as Minister for Women; (aside: Abbott's gone so recently but I can hardly frame the ignorance of slogans and attacks on the weak that he represented - and his complete lack of self-awareness suggested by his recent claims to good government; a dangerous man beyond an idiotic manliness); another feminist song entitled Fill the sink; an intimate love song to a Monk tune (I wonder how singers can so expose themselves through the intimacy of love songs). There were some more complex tunes, some covers - The Bird and the Bee Lifespan of a fly, Nate Wood Ocean floor, Julia Holtor When the sea calls me home (nice line this: "I can't swim, it's lucidity / so clear"). There's both an evenness and honesty in the music that Matilda writes and also in the covers she selects. There were odd times and odd beats and time changes and even a few slowish disco grooves. There was some great playing in accompaniment and just one solo each from Carl and Tom Fell, who sat in for a fat bluesy solo on the final tune. Both solos were beautifully stated, superbly developed and neatly released at the end. Aidan was just stunning to take on just a task at such short notice. And Matilda spoke to us with truth and purpose and some great song-making and an even, clear voice. A poorly tuned piano was a disappointment, but she soldiered through this. I'm enamoured by the moves of well trained jazzers into popular fields, with indie like this the most authentic. This was short songs of the 3 minute variety with intelligence and purpose and deeply attractive beats and some refreshingly twisted melodies. I may stick to RN and BBC for my radio but I loved this live.

Matilda Abraham (voice, piano, compositions) led a trio with Carl Morgan (guitar, bass, keyboard bass) and Aidan Lowe (drums) at the Ainslie Arts Centre for the Confluence jazz series. Tom Fell (tenor) sat in for a solo on the final tune. BTW, Confluence Jazz returns in 2016 monthly from 14 January.

Not the nine-o'clock news

It's an eclectic scene at Smith's. Thursday night is jazz night but even that's indeterminate or a malleable definition. Mixes in musics is a good and (post-) modern thing and musical styles all have common elements anyway, but you can strike the unexpected. This night was that way. Two acts: Carl Morgan / Matilda Abraham and Kerbside Collection.

Firstly Matilda and Carl. They visited from Sydney. Both are well known and respected locally but it seems the audience was more family than the jazz crowd. That's nice. I like these family events. (I discovered that even I had a distant family-ish connection). So this was personal, less performed, more intimate. The music was a duo format with sequencing. More JJJ than DigJazz, but informed by their jazz training, so clever, rich and complex. No hot solos from Carl in this incarnation. He mostly played chordal accompaniment to synth basses and washes and organ tones. There was little percussion here. It was only later in the set I realised there were no drums, and I wondered if I'd heard any earlier. (Listening back to the recordings, 2 of 7 had distinct percussion/drum lines). So this was floating music with occasional choppy grooves. Matilda sang Bjork and Lewis Cole and but mostly her own songs with themes like the excitement of new love, physical entropy and life metaphors and female companionships, so worthy of a listen. These meaningful, if electronically presented, messages remind me of '60 folk authenticity and recent singer-songwriter indie artists, but with that much modernised underlying sound. I particularly liked Matilda's voice on a more poppy tune where she sang firmer and stronger, but the night was mostly less emphatic tones. A fascinating duo set indicating an alternative indie path for this pair. Looking forward to my sons discovering them on JJJ.

The family cleared out, the people of the street and the chatter arrived, Kerbside Collection took to stage. KC were a guitar trio (they seem to also play with organ as a quartet) from Brisbane with some jazz background. I only managed the first set, so I missed their funkier incarnation. This jazz set was touched by tradition. The repertoire was there - Summertime, Blues for Alice, Coltrane's Impressions - but this music was very reformulated in their style. That's good. I heard arrangement, solid and unrelenting bass (apparently with an authentic 1963 Hofner Beatles bass), steady and authoritative drums, and guitar and solos. I heard rimshots on 1-3 and rock and funk feels and a touch of Afro influence. Essentially this was a rock-funk guitar trio with danceable, reliable steadiness. Entertaining, tight, ordered and with solos but without the all-in improvised complexity of the jazz world.

Matilda Abraham (voice, sequencing) and Carl Morgan (guitar, sequencing) played the first set and Kerbside Collection played the next two sets at Smiths.

One woman’s songs

I asked Matilda Abraham about her songwriting after the gig. The words and concerns impressed but didn’t surprise me. Matilda’s a mature woman and her interests are those of a mature woman. But I was impressed by the rich complexity of the music. She told me she plays some piano and some guitar chords, and songs start with melody and sometimes with chords. I thought maybe I heard the source in a few bits of her wordless singing or improvisations. They were not scatting in an Ella-sense. The Jazz School commonly used voices (I find I’m already writing in the past tense about the Jazz School) as instruments in larger ensembles, singing with the horns, usually trumpets as I remember. This must impart a sense of instrumental jazz melody and harmonic awareness and I think it this I heard here. It’s melody that’s interesting in phrasing and in intervals. It’s a powerful mix when you include the strength of ideas that words impart. The words weren’t always so easy to catch. Martin was about idealism in relationships. Reubens was inspired by renowned guitarist Kurt Rosenwinkel and was interesting for its intimacy and also for Carl’s guitar which sounded markedly different from earlier tunes on the night: more legato but also more insistent and impatient. There were quite a few other originals: Enough; Entropy, in slow ¾; Breath of warm air; Are you on my side; Keeping up; another in 7/4, interestingly split as 5-2. She sang a few covers, too: Monk’s Reflections, with words she wrote about love and distance; a duo with Carl called Cloud flies (“Do you sit in your office cubicle / Thinking about how life is beautiful”) which ably cut a line at office work; Beyoncé (“You are my temporary high / Sweet dream or a beautiful nightmare / I don’t want to wake from you”); Bjork’s Virus (“Like a virus / Patient hunter / I’m waiting for you / Hunting for you”). These were interesting songs performed in Matilda’s style and voice, which I heard as a firm soprano, high and delicate at times, then dropping to a sure-footed middle register, not flashy but ably dealing both with complex intervallic compositions and sharing a message.

Matilda had a nice little band, too. I know Carl well and he was exciting and lifting as expected. His tone is often chopped but he also played legato for some tunes, more driven and sustained. Either way, his solos lines and structural development are thrilling as he swings from low to high registers in a blink, and I guess it’s pentatonics that give him those essential guitar lines. It’s here I noticed drummer James lifting in busyness and intensity. He’s richly embroidered and assertive on the skins anyway, but the accented snare became snappier and the rolling fills tighter in response to Carl’s solos. Pianist Henry had a different manner. I found his playing obtuse, unexpected, adventurous, cerebral rather than combustible, as he invented responses that flowed one to another and yet departed easily and distantly from the tune. This was more dramatic, rolling, mutating full-handed chords than single note playing, but playing the orchestra is the piano’s forte. Tom was the essential bassist: clear, Velvet toned; carefully selected and formed notes; precise time; ears.

The gig could have done with a decent mix (vocals and PA make much more demand on the mix) but the playing and the writing were both very satisfying and the band’s presence was easy but serious. It’s a pleasure to watch players move through the Jazz School and return as mature performers, and this was one such gig. Too bad there won’t be many more. Matilda Abraham (vocals) led a quintet with Carl Morgan (guitar), Henry Sutherland (piano), Thomas Botting (bass) and James Waples (drums).

My JU2010 / 3

On the other hand, John Mackey’s anything but smooth. John’s a virtuoso player with heart on his sleeve exuding passion. This time he was teamed with Mark Sutton (on the Sutton stage; named for the same reason as the Lowe/Milman stage) and the stunning bassist Jonathon Zwartz. John M was clearly not even sure what they would play: they ended up to be standards but these are performances of individual brilliance and group cohesion. Have you met Miss Jones, a blues, In a sentimental mood and one other: all fabulous and energetic and harmonically rich. John would take lines that just soared through and around the harmonies. Jonathon would hold the harmonies then solo fast and furious, or steady and lyrical, throwing in extended bass chords on the way. A lesson in jazz double bass. Mark’s no slouch either.

I just caught the last few bars of Matilda Abraham’s Quintet, but wish I’d been able to hear more. Carl Morgan was in full flight with a fast and expressive but guitar-clean solo, and Matilda finished up with cool and calm voice. What I heard sounded good, well attended, and on the best stage in the place, the relaxed and very jazz-apt bar. But it’s a long day, and I was flagging a bit.

Next was Luke Sweeting with a sextet on the Main stage. This was three horns up front (trumpet, alto and tenor) playing Luke’s compositions. Good and interesting and room for solos. I especially noted alto sax player Matt Handel. It’s a name I’d heard but I didn’t know him. His solos were a dream: well formed, nicely punctuated between outpourings and lyrical introversion. I caught a pic of his two offsiders in the front line watching his solo: evidence of respect. I must catch more of Matt. But the band overall was swinging nicely with Hannah James and Evan Dorrian in the rhythm section and some very capable front line melodies.

Tangent was a return to experimental. James LeFevre led on tenor and curved soprano sax, with drums and guitar, playing Ornette Coleman and the like. There was no bass, but Matt Lustri played quite a bit of single note bass-like lines on guitar. Again not the easy listen but demanding of a readiness to close eyes and open ears.

Matt Thompson returned with another bass-less outfit, but again there was a bass line from his organ playing. The lack of an acoustic or electric bass player is not unusual in organ outfits, of course. This displayed Matt’s typical uber-cool, distilled approach. Banish the unnecessary, maximise the value of every note. He was accompanied by drums and a front line of trombone, tenor and alto saxes. Ever cool and understated.

Fingerprints was Eric Ajaye’s trio for the day, featuring Matt McMahon and Mark Sutton. Along with Jonathon Zwartz, this was an education in bass. At this level, it’s not a matter of good or bad, but of style and approach. Eric’s approach was clear and softly spoken, with liberal vibrato or slide. Jonathon’s was soft in tonality, but explosive and expansive over the fingerboard and with some quite unique chordal playing. Fingerprints was a space for expansive solos, but perhaps more in a self-contained way than John’s trio, and also on tunes that were of more modern harmony. I particularly liked their rendition of Crystal silence, with Eric’s crystalline, diatonic solo and Matt’s expansive playing that touched on and toyed with dissonance.

Then to the end. This was a day of variety, and Zoe’s Buttercups finished it off with due deference and immense and appropriate joy. The Buttercups are popular and simple and involving beats meets jazz sensibility: crossover cum world cum fusion that entertains but also nourishes the intelligence. Sweet grooves from Zoe and brother James, searing guitars from the award-winners Ben Hauptmann and Aaron Flower, tinkling banjo from Ben, jaunty harmonies from the two horns and some really capable soloing that reminded you that this was not just everyday rockabilly but a cut above. I had wondered if this would work, but after a long day of intensity, this was the perfect joyful, jovial ending. Zoe and the boys, it was a great outing and much, much enjoyed.

So that was my JU2010. That is, apart from the preparation and committee meetings and the eventual clearing up and thoughts of a possible followup in 2011. What a day! What an intellectual and emotional treat! But how sad that more punters didn’t share it with us.

Moruya 2009, bis

More from the Air Raid at Moruya Jazz Festival.

Fourth Degree Byrnes is Neveen Byrne’s platform for original tunes. She plays with several of the mature players from the school. I only caught one short tune from the band this day. It was their last piece: a moody original with keyboard and guitar solos and gave and weighty melody overlaid by Neveen on tenor. Intense and interesting stuff; I wish I’d heard more. Neveen Byrnes (tenor) played with Andy Campbell (guitar), Andy Butler (piano) and Hugh Deacon (drums).

I also just caught a snippet of Matilda Abraham’s Quintet (festivals are for socialising, too). It’s an impressive group of players, although a few seemed less prominent this year. This outing was pretty much heads down in concentration, although was leavened by Matilda’s singing and some of her original songs. Matilda Abraham (vocals) led a quintet with Andy Butler (piano), Carl Morgan (guitar), Chris Pound (bass) and Aidan Lowe (drums).

Chris and Aidan reappeared with the Recording Ensemble. I really enjoyed this performance. It was lively, engaged with the audience and the band was obviously having a great time. The Recording Ensemble plays original music and arrangements by its members like Reuben Lewis’s arrangement of a Zappa tune and Nick Combe’s Shhh…. I was particularly taken by Luke Sweeting’s composition Sound canvas. I’d listened to the modern remake of Gill Evans, Re-Birth of the Cool, on the drive down to Moruya, and I felt it was reminiscent of the charts, with voice leading and harmonies and melodic organisation harking to that era. The ANU Big Band was also at Moruya and I missed them, but I didn’t miss the ANU Commercial Ensemble. Big, bright, brassy, funky, cocky. All those things, and danceable and lively too. The large ensembles are always highlights.

The ANU faculty was also represented. Two sets struck me as calm, controlled and from the mind. Mike Price (guitar) led his trio with Eric Ajaye (bass) and Col Hoorweg (drums). Mike plays some originals but also re-envisioned standards, with admirable and very cool interpretations. This is thoughtful and intellectual fare, not for the dancefloor, but for savouring some perceptive soloing. Matt Thompson (keyboards) led an organ trio in another controlled and minimalist performance. This was left hand organ lines, revisioned and leisurely bebop, slow but melodically challenging right hand lines. John Wilton (drums) accompanied, along with Max Williams (tenor) who matched with lines where every note felt individually selected.

Being human

Just the other day I read an essay by Lera Boroditsky where she observes that language “is so fundamental to our experience, so deeply a part of being human, that it's hard to imagine life without it” (ref below). I agree. To me, words are more powerful than vague vision (why I tire of so many movies) or even seductive sound (despite my love of jazz). I listen to lots of instrumentalists and enjoy their invention and skills, but this truth comes to me when I hear vocals, words, direct and unmediated communication, sound without the machines: when I hear the voice.

It all came home to me again this evening while I was listening to three talented and very different singers in what was dubbed as a “Female Vocal Extravaganza”. Disregarding the spin, it was deep and fascinating and human and very, very diverse. I was particularly hoping to observe the differences and this was a wonderful opportunity. Matilda and Rachael and Marie were worlds apart, but all were communicating directly and intimately and so were a joy. And they shared one fabulously intuitive piano trio in support, so it was a concert to remember. They were each humble and wary to perform after the other, as is so often the way of performers, but each was superb in her own individual way. Matilda went first. Lower voice, perhaps alto; calm, pure, full but unadorned. Rachel told me another time that she admired Nina Simone. There’s that same simplicity and rich vocalisation, and restrained jazz freedom. She sang well aged standards, Polkadots and moonbeams, Moonlight in Vermont, and a few originals, like Spirals with its insinuative lyrics: “Hideaway … she will sing, she will try”. Rachael was second with such a different set. There were still standards, Alone together, Dindi, and originals in 3/4. She spoke of giving “a twist” to My funny valentine, but this was more a reimagining. Richly changed, a new work with hints of the original, quotes of the melody, snippets of the harmony. Improvised over with a high, presumably soprano voice, and intimately connected to the band. These were reworkings rather than re-performances. Taking standards and moving into big contemporary sound stages. Marie was last, and paid respect to her precedents. Again, the standards, although a different repertoire, and the originals: Afro Blue rearranged by Marie in 5/4 and with lyrics borrowed from Dianne Reeves; Wayne Shorter’s Fee fi fo fum with her own lyrics but a refusal to say who she’d written them for; Blue skies in memory of Eva Cassidy. Marie always seems to me so well trained: perfect intonation, richly inventive scat, a singer’s singer. I haven’t mentioned the band: Luke, Bill and Ed. Suffice to say a stunningly communicative and responsive trio that plays standards with ease but great inventiveness. See my other posts; they did wonders tonight. And Alex Raupach sat in for some tunes in Marie’s set.

James LeFevre is planning monthly extravanganzas like this at Minque: three guitars, three tenors, etc. and they will no doubt be intriguing. It’s an opportunity to explore an instrument in depth; to compare styles and approaches. But voice is something special, and this was special: three wonderful singers, with very different approaches and with a fabulous, but common, accompaniment. An absolute stunner.

The singers were Matilda Abraham, Rachael Thoms and Marie Le Brun. The accompaniment was by Luke Sweeting (piano), Bill Williams (bass) and Ed Rodrigues (drums). Alex Raupach (flugelhorn) sat in for some tunes with Marie.

How does our language shape the way we think? / Lera Boroditsky (viewed 11 July 2009)