Old guard

CanberraJazz.net needs at least some jazz. So does Canberra as a town, but with the loss of ANU students and the closure of Smiths, there's precious little of that around. But John Mackey was playing at Hippo. It's noisy and busy so not a listening environment. The recorded music in the break is louder than the band, so I only manage one set these days. John was accompanied by a great swag of locals and Matt Handel was visiting from Sydney. The music was funky and jazz-rocky. Just a few tunes with plenty of solos of generous length. The first set was just 4 tunes. A jazz rock groove, Footprints, You don't know what love is and Sonny Rollins Freedom suite. John and Matt, two great local saxes. Mark Sutton laying some obtuse and edgy grooves. Greg Stott playing rabid sweeps and coloured phrases. Damien Slingsby driving but melodic and Lachlan Coventry playing Bass VI with a pick for fat and satisfying tone and solos of real lyricism. It's the old guard together for a blow. Impressive as always, this time loud with heavy grooves. There's nothing much new in Canberra these days, but this crew is always a pleasure.

John Mackey (tenor) led a sextet at Hippo comprising Matt Handel (alto), Greg Stott (guitar), Damien Slingsby (piano), Lachlan Coventry (bass) and Mark Sutton (drums).

Original Lofty

It’s good to see Luke Sweeting’s band opening the season at the Loft. He’s a kingpin in the existence of the space after he found it and its grand piano to do his daily practice. Luke’s on tour with a very impressive band playing tunes that we’ve heard before, but that seem to be more mature, more richly embellished. This really is good writing: diverse, colourful with horn harmonies and interplays, with sections that sit satisfyingly although with some tension, and neat little written interludes to join one section to the other. And with plenty of space for solos for all players.

And what good players! Luke himself is strong as soloist and composer, but also as a comping support and otherwise as aware leader. The rhythm section is always mobile and encouraging. James held some ostinatos with long intervals and movements over the fingerboard with good intonation and reliable feel and read dots with considerable fluency, notably some satisfying unison lines with piano (what a nice sound!) while Finn busily coloured the whole, playing over the kit and over the groove. It’s a modern sound, tapping on the 1-3 rather than swing’s 2-4, the bass stating the chordal movements, settling ostinatos or syncopating chord tones, and the drums busily working over the whole, implying rather than stating the beat. Both were comfortable in solos, too. I particularly enjoyed an early bass solo (I think he took two) that was broad in pitch after an initial simple statement of intent. I was recording and I thought several times that I’m glad I’ve got this gig. So it was with the horns, too. This was a front line of alto, trumpet and trombone, all very strong, as a well intoned section or as improvising counterpoint players or as soloists. Different, though. The order of first solos was Matt, Ken and James and I kept thinking they can’t get any better. Of course, they were just different rather than better, and all were so satisfying. Matt was fast, building from thematic to screeds of notes, contorted and playing with dissonance, as saxists do. Then Ken came in, surprisingly quiet and sweet for a trumpeter, stating tonalities and running chords with ease and control then playing with octaves and intervals and phrasings. Then James, experienced and wily, deeper, initially more obtuse and playful and all over the tonalities and modes, then more orthodox, sliding notes or more clearly stating the changes. Then later, from all three, airy counterpoint and microtonality, all whale tones and distance and airiness. It’s another sound that I recognise as contemporary. But that was another composition, after the break. I noticed the second half was more inquisitive and undemonstrative than the first, although the gig ended with Fatty, one of Luke’s most lively and popular compositions. He’s got several like that, with snippets of melody that sit nicely and feel right for humming to yourself as you drive home after the gig or next morning in the shower. It’s a great skill to have, to write a catchy melody.

Suffice to say I enjoyed Luke back at the Loft. The band’s off on tour and it will only get sharper (there were a few little slips, but so what?) and those horn parts will just get sweeter. This is truly a local product with a long way to go. A relaxed and easy gig with gilded compositions. Luke Sweeting (piano, compositions) led his sextet comprising Matt Handel (alto), Ken Allars (trumpet), James Greening (trombone), James Heazlewood-Dale (bass) and Finn Ryan (drums).

Sun-free Sunday

It was a lovely, warm, sunny day outside. Night venues always look dingy during the day, and Vivaldi is a classic cabaret venue. The Loft crew were sponsoring their first Loft at Vivaldi Sunday-afternoon jazz session. It was a decent turnout with the regulars but also a range of new faces. The music was excellent. A friend joked that that this music should start late and run to morning, but these guys are professionals and it was well played regardless of the time. I came especially for the recreation of a favourite classic album, Oliver Nelson’s Blues and the abstract truth, in the second set. Alex Raupach had transcribed the CD. The band was the right line-up. The solos were performers’, but the heads and horn harmonies were the originals. I found the first chords of Stolen moments a bit spooky, as the horns swelled just as I remembered and the rhythm section sat cool like the original. Then Butch and Butch and Cascade and Teenie’s blues. I had to leave early but I’ll hear the rest later from a recording. Suffice to say, to my ears, they were true to the original and with a ghostly similarity in the heads. I came for the Abstract truth, but first set was just as good. I had shivers at the first lush chords of the first tune by Luke. They played another two by Luke and one each from Jack and Alex. Jack’s was called Agent Cooper and was unsurprisingly guitar-based. Alex’s was conceptually witty: a new melody over the chords of Billy Strayhorn’s Upper Manhattan Medical Group (UMMG), dedicated to the Loft, with the title Upstairs in the Majura Medical Centre (UMMC). The two others were very different styles and somewhat surprising to me from this crew. First was a cover was a Wayne Shorter’s Aung San Suu Kyi, a floating groove with whisps of soprano sax from John. The other was a work of colour and presence rather than groove, mystical rather than earthy. This was some wonderful music for an audience of old hands and newcomers, and despite the unhealthy retreat to the dark on such a nice day, it was a big success. Loft at Vivaldi had it first outing with Alex Raupach (trumpet, flugelhorn), Matt Handel (alto sax), John Mackey (tenor, soprano saxes), Tom Fell (baritone sax), Luke Sweeting (piano), Jack Palmer (guitar), Max Alduca (bass) and Luke Keanan-Brown (drums).

From Paris via Bermagui

I sat back awed by Alex Stuart’s band. There was some seriously hot playing here on some complex charts with odd times and contorted melodies and chunky grooves and lots of time for speedy solos. I chatted to Brendan in the break and mentioned this. He said it was a pleasure to do a few gigs in a row, as this band has done. He’d got some mp3s and charts to prepare - as is normal practice - but often there’s just one gig, maybe two, and you are struggling with more complex pieces. This band had played twice at the Wangaratta Festival, as well as Bennett’s Lane in Melbourne and Zephyr’s at Bermagui, so the music was comfortable. It was clear with the settled grooves and the eyes that weren’t stuck in the music stands. And these are such good players and this was such a decent, unusually mature, audience. I guess it’s family and friends, as both Alex and Brendan studied here in Canberra. But all four have reputations and Julien and Ben are masters that would have brought in a few others. Suffice to say it was a hot band and one I was particularly looking forward to.

The grooves were wonderfully strong. Ben is all over them, occasionally laying a beat, but otherwise idiosyncratically laying counter-rhythms, strong and hard, sometimes moving around the beat, but always so strong and fluent and easy, and with a left foot unconventionally working an extra pedal striking a cymbal or whatever. Brendan was equally fluid but also stout and solid on bass. He’s got a wonderfully formed left hand, strong with first finger pointed, playing mostly in the lower registers, but straying to thumb positions and almost above the fingerboard for one solo. But it was his right hand, fingers and arms working, that mostly impressed me and that’s where the groove comes from. There were smiles from Ben and returned chuckles from Brendan showed they were having a good time. I’ve seen Julien in more restrained situations but this was anything but. I didn’t always catch his playing from where I was sitting (I’m told he was louder on the other side of the stage) but when I did he was quite softly toned but fast although not frantic and what seemed to be mostly tonal and reliably structured. This was lyrical but at speed: very nice. Alex led from the guitar with his own compositions. There were devilishly fast heads, often against changing times and bar lengths, leading to repeating grooves, sometimes in odd times. I think I counted a 12 and an 11 and a 9 but the band was fluid and barlines were treated with apt disrespect, so it was none too obvious and often difficult to count. I thought I heard Mahavishnu in some of Alex’s accompaniment and I thought of fusion, but the heads weren’t like that. The players were all strong and all led the others at times, but I could feel Alex leading often enough from his comping seat. I didn’t particularly hear Mahavishnu in his solos although they were sometimes rabidly fast (guitars usually are). I felt this was mature and idiosyncratic and stylistically developed playing. I felt an influence of rock in chunky chord solos and effective use of repetition, but also slinky jazz guitar and what I guess were various alt or Arabic scales in both solos and composition. And a soft but lengthy echo that showed itself at the end of solos. I particularly liked the way the band members would drop out: maybe just drums and guitar, or bass and sax, then come back in, one by one, with rising excitement. And the strength of these duos were remarkable! I was taken aback at one time when I realised just how strong was a groove that was just bass and tenor: stunning strength and independence of playing. Local altoist Matt Handel sat in for a few tunes, too, so the front line got fatter in melodies and there were solos to compare and a sax summit of the two horns.

I’d expected a good night and this was more mature and settled than I’d hoped for. What good players are these, and what an impressive and well practised outing. At this level, it just takes five gigs. I shouldn’t be surprised: these guys are good. Alex Stuart (guitar, compositions) is back from Paris for a visit and touring with Julien Wilson (tenor), Brendan Clarke (bass) and Ben Vanderwal (drums). Matt Handel (alto) sat in for several tunes.

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

Hot and stormy

I forgot how much I like jazz in noisy, steamy bars. Last night was Hippo with a band pulled together by Rohan Moore and featuring the front line of John Mackey and Matt Handel with visitor Hugh Barrett and returnee Raf Jerjen. I’ve been hearing lots of music recently in quiet environments, often new compositions, all essential and purposeful. Hippo is not like that. It was once our major jazz venue and featured touring acts, then it had a break and it’s back to local performers for the Wednesday night jazz session. But it’s always been noisy and that annoyed many serious touring performers. It’s always been at heart a cocktail bar, so chatty, steamy, sexy, even if it featured serious jazz and accepted the listener audience. But it seems to me that vibrant jazz can thrive in this environment. Performers can let go, play hard or dangerously, make a few clunkers and it doesn’t matter. They can essentially play for themselves and enjoy it. It’s not for everyone all the time, but to let go on the modern standards with a set of admirable players, it’s a blast. So it was with Rohan and mates.

The repertoire’s one I know from many of John’s gigs: hard burning ‘50s/’60s Coltrane and the like. Sentimental mood, Miss Jones, Invitation, Giant steps and the like: all to be expected and all great foundations for letting go. There was one Miles fusion, too, which I recognised but couldn’t name, which changed the feel but was performed equally impressively. These are just great players. John and Matt were like brothers, although quite different in speech. John letting go with streams of 16th note passages teaming over the tune, not particularly dissonant, but disorienting in the extremity and profusion of his fat, tenor notes. He surprised me, too, with a few solos of open, three-note sequences and intervals that seemed something stylistically new and that I hadn’t heard from him before. Matt’s alto is voiced higher, of course. The tone suggests bop and I heard Bird in some, but this is essentially more modern. Still spelling out chords with licks and playing with sidesteps and sequences and dissolving into flourishes. But when the two horns spoke harmonies together, this was another experience. I laughed at a habit they had of tenor playing high and alto playing a lower voice: what a good sound. But how easily they chatted back and forth through their instruments! That’s why I say like brothers: different as brothers are, but essentially in tune. Powerful and fluent stuff. Amongst this, I heard Hugh taking a tempered and traditional path, running chords in long strings of eighth notes with an easy fluency consonant tonality. I was intrigued to hear this quintessential jazz piano style after Tate Sheridan’s richly chordal classical style of the night before. Both these styles exist in jazz these days, but they are worlds apart. To some extent, Raf also provided a jazz/classical comparison with Rohan Dasica (also the night before) but the difference was nowhere near so obvious. Since leaving the Jazz School and indulging in NYC and classes with the likes of Pattitucci and Mraz, he’s playing so, so strongly. There’s a real traditional solidity and confidence in this playing, good tone and presence, rock solid swing, constantly varied walking lines, funky fills and extensive thumb position solos. Really nice and really solid. And there’s sheer joy in his playing: open smiles, jokes with the band and the rest. I’ve noted this with several truly committed players after they’ve left the school. The best settle down to professional life and recognise just how much of a challenge this level is, and they settle in to a lifetime of ardent practice. My guess is Raf is doing that and it shows. Rohan was the one who gathered this band. I’ve heard him on several outings and was mightily impressed by his compositions in his Songbird project, where he moved well outside swing and standards. But he was comfortable and determined in this context, too: a calm and steely presence in the corner and one who could be explosive in accents. His presence reminded me of Art Blakey: eyes and awareness and determination.

Giant steps isn’t something new but it’s classic and overwhelming when well performed. That’s what this concert was like: old favourites, modern standards and a revelation. John Mackey (tenor), Matt Handel (alto), Hugh Barrett (piano), Rafael Jerjen (bass) and Rohan Moore (drums) blew a storm at Hippo.

Hornz

It’s been great to hear Luke Sweeting in a variety of outings in recent weeks. Last night it was his Sextet playing at the Gods. I’d heard the Canberra version of his sextet when they were warming up to recording Luke’s charts early this year. Most of that band has since gone to the winds: Berlin, NYC, Melbourne. Luke, himself, now shares time in Sydney and he collected a mostly Sydney band to play this gig. The charts were all from Luke’s pen, other than one from prior-trumpeter Reuben Lewis. There was plenty of space for solos, but the charts felt orchestrated for a larger ensemble, with their movements and variations and changing mixes and tonalities. I could imagine a big band insinuating its fills during solos, or a jazz orchestra playing the moving melodic passages, although the generous space for solos was more like a smaller band. I also felt the feel was quite reined in, at least at the start of tunes, although this was music of big and steady crescendos. Luke presented one tune called Introverts and another called Melancholy and perhaps this was music like this: strongly spoken but not immediately insistent; certainly not blustery. Luke’s Rhodes started the whole concert off, and its sound fits this image. Rhodes are a strange mix of crystalline tinkle and soft underbelly with occasional cracked goblets. The bass and drums entered, but almost unnoticed. Then the horns with swelling, hopeful three-part harmonies into a 12/8 groove. Then solos ending with horns arising underneath, strangely morbid over the end of the drum solo, then back to rising hope. That was the first tune. It was interesting writing. What of other tunes? Avant shard had fractured melodies that were played differently every time, with various instruments playing alone and later a cacophony of all in. Millions of kilometres was a road song with steady sixteenths on drums over 4/4. Chinchilla had mysterious horns and slow plaintive tones and sat at one time with Rhodes chords swelling from no attack and later whale-song trombone. Introverts was appropriately slow and pensive. Loftiness was complex orchestration dedicated to the venue rather than the concept. There were several others.

What I found most revealing on the night, though, was the horns up front. Their solos seemed so different in style one from the other and their ensemble work, composed by Luke, circumscribed the feel and musical questioning on the night. They played harmony of course, sometimes moving fairly freely, voices leading or following like in dance, other times playing more standard harmonies, even bluesy fills, in three-parts or dropping into occasional collective improvisation. They were also quite different solo voices. I always find Matt’s alto is honest and intelligently searching with nicely developed lines and structural growth. This time, I noticed a new and very clever twist, where he’d muddle together notes at one end of a line and recover with a dissonant passage. I wish I understood fingering of the sax and the trumpet, for it seems obvious to me that it affects the lines played by soloists. The sax seems more expansive, more open to morphing harmonies, certainly more honey- or snakey-toned. The trumpet is sharp and proud, assertive and emphatic, and usually more scalar and tonal. I’ve heard personalities interpreted by instruments (trumpeters are the outgoing ones) but I don’t buy into that. I think we usually just take up the instruments we fall into, through a school band or the lessons Mum organises or the available spots in the local rock group. But the playing is certainly different, in the case of trumpet, from the comfortable lines that fall out of three valves. The trombone is different again. It’s brass, but it’s sultry and sinuous like the sax (and luxuriates in it) as well as being deep and rich. When nicely voiced, the combined tone is something to wallow in: a sharp trumpet on top, a smooth sax middle and the clear depth of trom. Lovely. So it was this night, firmed up nicely by with James’ billowing bottom end. This was a gig for the front line. I noted Brendan on bass and Finn on drums, and they each did several nice solos, but they were very much the capable support in this context. The horns and Rhodes had this gig in my ears.

So, it was Luke again with some of the same tunes but this time made more complex and enriched by a three part front line. Nice gig. Luke Sweeting (Rhodes) led his sextet at the Gods with Matt Handel (alto sax), Simon Ferenci (trumpet), James Greening (trombone), Brendan Clark (bass) and Finn Ryan (drums).

More chalk and cheese, pt.1

Freshbace was two student bands, each led by a visiting jazz luminary. The first was Bennie Maupin; the second was Joe Chindamo. I’d seen both of these musicians in workshop so I was intrigued to hear them in concert as leaders of a student band. Like some other combinations that I’ve attended at CJP, these were chalk and cheese.

Bennie’s band went first. Bennie was involved in some major movements in the late sixties and seventies - Bitches brew, On the corner, Headhunters, Mwandishi – so we could expect a more spacey presentation. We got it. Just to emphasise the approach, the concert started with a string quartet. Then into a concert of heavy grooves, touches of free or at least lengthy cacophony, string quartet intros and washes, plenty of solos including a Ponty-like jazz violin, and an end on a solid funk. The tunes were originals from Bennie’s pen. Jewel of the Lotus and Mapo were spacey ‘70s jazz from early ECM releases. Equal justice was a ballad where Bennie played a slow ostinato of long and somewhat atonal intervals on piano. The final tune was a solid jazz funk that livened up to finish the set. This is probably the era that most influenced me in jazz so I was entranced by the music. The students were playing to their best, aware but smiling, and the music was alluring and physical. I especially took note of the unusual sound of El’s electric violin, which she played with considerable authority and with those characteristic intervals due to the tuning in fifths. Daniel’s guitar solo, especially his overt cutting blues and repeated notes against the funk, was classic Kim: outlandish but convincing. Jordan dropped into slap for the funk and let loose some devastating triplet slaps. I enjoyed watching the string quartet enjoying temporary freedom from dots during several group improv passages. Nice concert and earthy and physical.

Bennie Maupin (soprano sax, piano) led a student band comprising Andy Butler (piano), Matt Handel (alto), Tom Sly (trumpet), Patrick Langdon (trombone), Daniel Kim (guitar), Henry Rasmussen (drums), Llewellyn Osborne (jazz violin) and the Childers String Quartet of Tobias Chisnall (violin), Estelita Rae (violin), Anthony de Battista (viola) and Julia Janiszewski (cello).

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

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

Colour against the dark, part 2

It’s only a small room so they could hardly fit on stage, but the sound of Alex Raupach’s Dectet was lush with the tuba and various horns and the soprano voice performing sometimes as a singing voice and otherwise wordlessly as another instrument. This sound just has to remind you of Miles in the ‘50s. The tonality and harmonies and voice movements may be influenced by Gil Evans (the ballad was spot on) but the music was contemporary. The one non-original was a piece by drummer John Hollenbeck. It sat minimally against an insistent and heavy drum pattern then grew into melody and withdrew again to melodic minimalism. The last (as yet untitled) tune of the night seemed to be similarly contemporary with perhaps cacophony replacing minimalism. An earlier tune was cabaret-zany music as a setting for lyrics in Franglais by Liverpool poet Neil Innes. Andy’s Drag was more slow and bluesy and ripe for solos. Matt was his normal stunningly fluid and expressive self; Alex impressed me with some very purposeful solos on trumpet and muted trumpet and flugelhorn. Andy’s style was hard and abrasive and exploratory with single-note lines in a hard-bop style and formed an interesting contrast to Tate’s gentler tone in the previous set. I hadn’t heard Valdis for some time and I luxuriated in his solo of essential lines portrayed with richly satisfying tone. The tones of Ben and Tom and especially Peter’s tuba was essential for the lush performance. I was surprised by Ben on flute at one stage, when I thought I was hearing voice. Mark added rhythmic grunt and lots of percussive colour and Rohan sounded strong and beautifully tuneful on bass. But this was essentially a group performance in a way that smaller formats aren’t. It was lush and rich and satisfying and it must have been lots of work to orchestrate. There were some minor lapses in intonation, but nothing a little practice or regular performance wouldn’t fix. This was part 2 of a concert that confirmed the quality of our local jazz product (while it lasts). I enjoyed it, but more, I was truly impressed.

Alex Raupach (trumpet, flugelhorn) led a dectet with Rachael Thoms (vocals), Matt Handel (alto, tenor), Tom Fell (tenor, baritone sax), Ben Sutcliffe (tenor, flute), Valdis Thomann (trombone), Peter McGoven (tuba), Andy Butler (piano), Rohan Dasika (bass), Mark Sutton (drums).

Pitching the alto

I asked Matt Handel if he’d transcribed the performances he played at his history of alto sax retrospective, but he said he hadn’t. It fitted with Luke’s comment that Matt has a memory. I was educated and enlightened by Matt’s interpretations of favourite works by favourite alto players. This was not new music or original. It was an exploration of different styles and different players, and Matt’s renditions were profoundly diverse and indicated his immersion in these key players. Who were they? The first was a delightful, purely lyrical rendition of Johnny Hodges playing In a mellow tone. It was so beautiful, like language, unforced but with occasional devastating runs that fell for the horn. I noticed this with several other players – a willingness to enjoy melody, playing slowly, delight in intervals, but also the skills to pull of lengthy and emotive flourishes. But that’s what solo development is about. Phil Woods’ Strollin’ with Pam was more recent, still in the mainstream but street-wise and abandoned. Charlie Parker took us back the birth of the modern with ‘40s bop. Matt’s Eric Dolphy was from Berlin in 1961 and was tortured and blues-influenced and generously dissonance with every note plumbing depths of spirit. I think this was my most striking amongst a varied bunch. Next was Cannonball Adderley with Spectacular from 1957, a superb shower of frolicking consonance. After the break was Art Pepper’s Ophelia from 1957, rooted but with an easy readiness to depart from the ordinary. Then Kenny Garrett’s [Woody] Shaw, all Arabic scales in constant lines. The second set also had some local flavour. Matt studied with Tony Gorman for several years so his Spice Island was authentic: all mesmeric and dreamy with a melody that discombobulated my ears when I expected a tone and got a semitone. Matt’s Tony-solo was stunning too: quietly interpretative but then rabidly released. Next was a heavy, slow, rock tribute to Arthur Blythe, with Matt playing Joey Barrons’ interpretation of AB’s Little boy. Then Australia again with Bernie McGann’s Acacia from the Last Straw in 1995 and a final Cherokee. I was surprised by just how truly stylistically different each tune was in Matt’s playing. This is not easy and it was a truly impressive display.

The rest of the band were no slouches, either. I felt Andy was most comfortable on the impressionistic styles where his contemporary classical interests are evident. His descending chromatic chords were an eye opener on the Dolphy piece, and his solos were particularly vivid in these styles. Rohan’s bass solos were phrased like a sax with nice bebop triplets, and that’s high praise for our bulky instrument. And I can never be uncomfortable with Mark’s drums that just spell out the highpoints of 50’s post-bop era. James O’Donnell, a student of Mark’s, sat in for the final Cherokee and was all concentration with a driving ride.

At the end, I felt this was as good as it gets. Great music of a great jazz era, played with skills and an awareness that’s both catholic and informed. What a pleasurable gig and an education too. Matt Handel (alto) led a quartet with Andy Butler (piano), Rohan Dasika (bass) and Mark Sutton (drums). James O’Donnell (drums) replaced Mark for the final tune.

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart