A dedication

I wasn't the only one who wouldn't miss such an impressive selection of Melbourne jazzers visiting Canberra.  Smiths was packed and we got a show of a special intensity and beauty.  I was wondering what to expect, but from the first notes the front line of trumpet, alto and tenor was bell-like with precise harmonies and interpretations and the written lines were a dream, rich and varied with sometimes unexpected twists of intervals or chords.  Just lovely.  The back line was as impressive, steady and precisely intoned bass (it's a concern with my playing at the moment so I can only admire Sam's intonation) and exploratory drums and richly effected guitar and of course the joyous smile and rich complexity of Andrea Keller on our Smith's piano.  Along with Andrea and leader Sam Anning, the players were Mat Jodrell, Carl Mackey, Julien Wilson, Theo Corbo and a newby for me, Kyrie Anderson.  Enough said.  This was not a night of flashy solos, but the solos were did hear were perfectly formed things, adorned only as required, stunning and beauteous.  They were launching Sam's new album, the third from his septet, a tribute to Archie Roach who he played with for 3 years and who he obviously admired immensely.  And the players on the night were the band on the album, so we got their awareness of the music and, from the top, a clarity and presence that was studio-like.   They played acoustic, or at least all but bass, guitar, piano did, and yet it could be very loud from my pretty close seat.  Acoustic, so sadly no mix on my part.  I complimented Sam on his compositions after.  I think I can mention that he does an exercise of writing five themes in 30 mins and these often join into a tune or otherwise lead to one.  So this is music based, rather than lyrical, but there was one poem recited at the end of one piece and at least one piece had an obvious  theme, of music and life partners Ruby Hunter and Archie, written after the death of Ruby.  I hope I don't offend or break protocol in mentioning these names, but  they were mentioned openly at the gig and were the theme of the album.  This piece was light and joyous and bouncy and quite different from many others, which more seemed in tune with the album title, Earthen, and Archie's comments and Aboriginal Australia's relationship to country.  Whatever, this was a stunningly capable and emotionally-rich concert to launch the album and I was not alone in my admiration.

Sam Anning (bass, composer) launched his new album dedicated to Uncle Archie Roach at Smiths with fellow composers and recording artists Mat Jodrell (trumpet), Carl Mackey (alto saxophone), Julien Wilson (tenor saxophone), Andrea Keller (piano), Theo Carbo (guitar) and Kyrie Anderson (drums).

Great players on a great day

I caught Trio Klein Ahnung in Sydney, at Lazy Bones in Marrickville after missing their gig at Molly's in Canberra. They were a fabulously modern, lithe, expressive band, understated at times, explosive at others, all powerful musicians in their own rights but all ready to lay low when the music called. I chatted after the gig with some of the Canberra contingent, now mostly out of town, in Sydney or even as far off as Berlin. Brian Blade and ambience were mentioned as similar or stylistically influential. Yes, but. Carl is so strong and, being the guitar, the front liner in a guitar trio and he was the patter of the band on stage. I heard current Manhattan guitar but wasn't sure which one. A quick survey identified Kurt Rosenwinkel as the closest to my ear. Strong and defined notes, devastating runs, softly overdriven with some reverb or echo or both (my guess). Sam was at his expressive best, often understated, hugely expressive in lines and just nicely explosive with his own devastating runs, just sometimes. Raj was hugely understated, soft and delicate, taking just a few solos, demanding us to listen carefully to follow his delicacy. They were releasing a CD on this tour with some tracks including Sean Wayland. So this is Aussies in the world: NYC, Berlin and home. Suffice to say I was enamoured by the gig in Marrickville. They played tunes from the album but also a few standards: How deep the ocean and Without a song. I tried to count How deep... at Marrickville but failed. I noted "oddly timed", thinking they'd changed time signatures from the swung 4/4. So what a surprise when I saw a video of this same tune from the Molly gig and hearing it as a clear four. My guess is this was time implied, held in the musicians' minds but far from clearly stated, rather than formally rewritten passages. I feel it in our trio at its best, usually when we're playing pretty frequently. Time dissolves but doesn't: it's there but not evident; ready to resolve occasionally. What appeared as time rehashed was an improvised interaction. Wonderful, exemplary and a statement of the contemporary in jazz. At least to my ears. (Carl, have I got it right?) So, a great gig at a lovely, dark, seductive venue (worth a visit for the design ambience alone). Thankfully, I didn't miss this one. BTW, klein ahnung translates as "little idea".

Trio Klein Ahnung are Carl Morgan (guitar), Sam Anning (bass) and Rajiv Jayaweera (drums). They performed at Lazy Bones, Marrickville (and Molly's) while touring their new album.

Big Day Out 3

It takes a flit from ACO/Branford Marsalis to Smiths to realise the jazz in your soul. This was my last outing with Dan Tepfer. He was playing a jazz gig for CIMF at Smiths with top flight Australians Sam Anning and Alex Hirlian. The place was sold out and I was recording so I had to get there early. I heard them warming up and was already excited. They had played a few gigs together before this (Brisbane and Wollongong?) and they were hot. The music was mostly original from Dan's trio's latest album. The room was full and the CIMF had trucked in a Yamaha grand in good nick and capable soundman Bevan was on duty. Then the gig. From the top, this was intensely complex rhythmic outings with fabulously effective solos all round. I tried to count a few with no luck but saw some charts later and it wasn't impossible, although rich in sixteenth-note syncopations through changing time signatures, 7s or 11s interspersed with more common 4s and 3s, perhaps changing each bar. Not impossible but a difficult read. Very heavy on time and groove. And chords that implied rather than defined. Something like E-4b7 (not even sure how to write it!) mixing with other colours of E-7. Odd extension that, 4 not 11? The grooves were steady and hard often fast, strongly defined by both Sam and Alex but free for accents and embellishments as they desired. Despite the writing there was considerable freedom. Also a friendly and respectful eye from Dan. He obviously enjoyed this group. He mentioned he'd studied with Sam at the Manhattan School of Music. There's no way this would have been out of place in the Village. Dan has studied (astro-)physics and it shows in his variety of musical interests (Bach, Disklavier and contemporary jazz). I've since read he has more music and science in his family background. The room was full with an older cohort, this being a CIMF concert, but the band was absolutely well received. They ended on a softer note, some non-originals and tamer times and a ballad. Set 2 ended with the driving original, Roadrunner, and an encore of Everytime we say goodbye. I went away stunned and hugely pleased and aware of the jazz in my soul. Something of this quality would thump the heart of any listener. A stunner and a great pleasure; being Manhattan, I can say world class.

Dan Tepfer (piano) led a trio with Sam Anning (bass) and Alex Hirlian (drums) at Smiths for CIMF.

Edge and centre/er

NYC is too far away for Canberra but a little of it was back at Smiths after its workshop outing that afternoon. This was Quentin Angus, ex-Adelaide but not NYC, leading a trio with Sam Anning, six recent years in NYC but recently back in Melbourne, and Ari Hoenig who I've only known as NYC. A stunner! Quentin led with several of his capable compositions plus a few that displayed his interests, Wes Montgomery, Charlie Parker, Goo Goo Dolls (Iris), Oasis (Wonderwall). Again, the updating of the standards repertoire with songs of today: it's an essential refresh. Quentin had spoken earlier in the day of the business of music: playing melodies that people know is one aspect of this. I also liked the political reference. As we fret over Trump, one of Quentin's tunes was One for Bernie (Sanders). Obama campaigned on hope: we could do with some now. But the playing? Variously restrained and exuberant. Quentin's is neat and precise, thoughtful, clean despite some discrete background echo and an intriguing freeze pedal. Sam's is also precise (they all were this!) but more playful, swapping lines back and forth with the hugely exuberant Ari. Ari's a master of the polyrhythms, although always with a purpose in the tune, cognizant of melody. But busy, he is. There's huge embellishment here, dynamics, rhythmic subdivisions, colour that washes over the band. I was amused by the interplay of Sam and Ari and additionally amused to hear Sam checking tuning in a solo and making it part of the music. This is virtuosic playing. Quentin is also listed as a composer and you can hear the complexity in unison lines and neat accompaniments - and see it in 5-page charts that get turned over mid-tune. As ever, NYC visits with chops and intellect and I love every visit. It had me resubscribing to the Smalls feed. At the edge visiting the centre.

Quentin Angus (guitar) led a trio with Sam Anning (bass) and Ari Hoenig (drums) at Smiths.

Double dose workshopping

I just hope this continues. The ANU School of Music presented another public, free workshop with visiting artists, this time Quentin Angus with Ari Hoenig and Sam Anning. This is the NYC connection and I was waiting with some anticipation for the gig in the evening. The workshop was an added bonus. I arrived early enough to hear Ari experimenting with various polyrhythmic stuff. It was going ot be the theme of the day. I thought it was a warmup, various limbs playing various patterns, but he told me later it was trying to revisit something he'd heard. Then into two talks. Firstly, Quentin on the business side of making it as a muso. This is not something students always put their mind to but it's essential. He suggested even 50% of time on career vs craft is apt, perhaps even 70% career to establish yourself. Times were that you a record label contract or nix; now it's different. Then he ran through a string of matters: power is now with the artists; streaming pays virtually nix; video equals discoverability (use both Facebook and Youtube); diversify with multiple income streams: gigs, tours, workshops, music libraries, transcription and other books, teaching; philanthropy, grants and competitions; use tools (contact managers, email marketing); join APRA; websites; agents and publicists; legal matters. Lots ot investigate and necessary to make a buck.

Then Ari provided the earliest of introductions to polyrhythms (which we mostly failed). Firstly, don;t be in denial; it's needed for all. The session reminded me of similar exercises by Will Vinson a few months before at a workshop at Smiths (Ari plays with Will). We tapped 4/4 and clapped 6 against it (quarter note triplets); then 12 over 4/4 (eighth note triplets), then displaced the accents, from first note of triplet, to second, to third; then accenting each fourth triplet note, then sixth, etc. All against the 4/4 tap and singing a song along (we did Blue monk then Blue bossa). This is the first steps for complexity in rhythm, polyrhythms, and it's needed by all players, even if only to respond to others using it. Suffice to say, we were weak. This is not easy but it is something you can practice anywhere, anytime, with no gear.

We heard some enticing music that promised much for the evening's gig and got challenged on two fronts, Quentin's, the business front that many tend to ignore, and Ari's, the complex polyrhythmic richness that is an essential ingredient of today's jazz. I'm still pondering; a very beneficial outing.

Quentin Angus (guitar), Sam Anning (bass) and Ari Hoenig (drums) presented a workshop at the School of Music. Quentin spoke on business matters in music; Ari spoke on first steps in polyrhythms.

And then the gig

First the workshop; then the performance. Again, I just heard of this days before. There was some confusion over location, but it was Smiths in the end. It sadly clashed with the Gods (never rains, but pours). But this was Greenwich Village's 55 Bar / Smalls come to Canberra. Not to be missed. The hottest Aussie players with Will Vinson. Who? Try this: James Muller, Sam Anning, Tim Firth. Suffice, to say, this was a lesson. We had to clear out after two sets for a sellout for the next band, a hillbilly duo. I felt for them. How could you possibly follow these guys? Just eight tunes over two sets. Mostly written by Will, but one by James and two standards. I was apprehensive when he introduced All the things you are (yawn). I shouldn't have been. This was a work of bending and contortion to match Houdini, but never without reason. I wondered about the time, but decided it was in ordinary four; just that the melody was twisted and delayed and bunched for a (sometimes barely) recognisable standard. This was something we all know and perhaps love; if you could parse and decode the twists. Something brilliant and alive from something otherwise sadly tame and ordinary. This is jazz at a peak. I drooled over the Tim's pin-sharp drumming that was a foil to enthuse Sam's insistent, syncopated, mobile bass lines. And the solos from each. It sounds tame, but even these guys do swapped eights. And that god, Muller. What to say of a blithering screed of crisp notes congealing into tonality. Stunning. And Will. He'd talked earlier in the day of playing fourth notes, of shorter phrases and listening, of creating melody. Either this was out the window (it wasn't) or he's developed this to such an extent it's a screed of notes but still enthralling. It was. Just a stunner. I'd hate to have been that band following on. You'd go home to bed, I reckon. But then I'm a jazzer and this is what I like and they weren't. A stunner.

Will Vinson (alto, soprano) led a quartet at Smiths with James Muller (guitar), Sam Anning (bass) and Tim Firth (drums).

No fixed pitch

At one stage, Gian Slater commented on U.nlock, her band with Shannon Barnett, Sam Anning and Rajiv Jayaweera, as being a challenge because there were no instruments of fixed pitch. U.nlock is vocal, tromone, acoustic bass and drums, so hitting the right pitch takes good ears and technique. I didn’t hear it as a problem, though, and Gian joked that it wasn’t “95% of the time”. This is also an open-sounding band with no chordal instruments. They did it all with skill and accuracy and considerable panache. I was drooling over trom harmonies below Gian’s soprano voice. I loved the solo bass and the modern take on scat that used sidestepping and sequences and clever dissonancne like any contemporary sax.
I was stunned by some trom solos, that fat raspy tenor tone, sometime staccato, only once somewhat flourished, but always definite in chordal relationships and pitch. Not that this was too mainstream. The trom and bass could be deliciously independent of chord tones and tonal centres when they chose to be, moving very freely against or over the changes. Alone together is a tune that I regularly practice but I didn’t recognise the opeining bass solo and only just picked up the tune from the liberally arranged head. Contemporary jazz can stray very far from the underlying tune; jazz is now a very evolved art. Noone got lost, at least amongst the band. They played some originals by Gian and originals and arrangements by Shannon and a series of standards. These are old friends from teritiary training in Melbourne and they were getting together a tour of Wangaratta, 505 and more. It’s a return for Shannon, Sam and Raj who have been in NYC for several years. They were reading charts for the originals but it all sat easily. Raj is an undemonstrative drummer but clear and firm and steady. Shannon also had me thinking of how each instrument, or perhaps each group of instruments, has its own patterns, phrases, lines that sit easily. Her solos were not solos of sax, although she was fronting the same tunes. Similarly, hers were nothing like Sam’s bass solos. As guitar and keys solos are not like either. Both played clearly defined ideas of intelligence and responsiveness, but each was different. As were Gian’s solos, which were perhaps more like keys, sequences of scalar snippets, but with delicacy of tone and some everests of pitch, that were nothing like the earthy tone of the trom. All interesting, exploratory and quite a unique combination with some exceptional musicianship. Bring on more of that NYC vibe. U.nlock comprised Gian Slater (vocals), Shannon Barnett (trombone), Sam Anning (bass) and Rajiv Jayaweera (drums).

2 of 3x2

Oh my god! How different can two piano trios be? I wrote of Alister Spence yesterday. Today I write of the Ben Winkelman Trio. There’s a city difference (Spence/Sydney and Winkelman/Melbourne) and maybe there’s something to that, but I heard this as a difference of period and generation. Spence was modern; Winkelman was post-modern. Both were fabulous, but hugely different.

Ben’s obviously classically trained, showing that light touch and ease that comes from exercises and etudes. He also based two tunes on themes from C20th classics that he’d been studying: Ravel and Messiaen. His trio comprised Sam Anning on bass (originally Perth, but now Melbourne) and Ben Vanderwal on drums. It’s a rhythm pairing I’ve long admired. But why the po-mo? Post-modernism is an ironic mix of genres and styles, as against the seriousness of the modern and its rational humanist belief in progress. Here the po-mo showed as a melange of styles that were combined with great competency, but also lightheartedness: stride, latins, tango, swing, brought together with odd and changing time signatures, and extensive, wildly syncopated arrangements. There was a lot of written work in this - unison lines, complicated ostinato passages, changing forms and themes - and the solos similarly held a style then moved on, aware of difference and toying with it. I think the tunes were all originals from Ben’s albums: Spanish tinge, Steppin’ 2, Vampires, Five Odyssey and Seven Odyssey, Dislocation, Maxine stomp, and others. The names mean little without the albums. Dislocation was a gloriously sparse ballad with a solo by Sam to die for. A few others grew with long crescendos. Otherwise, they morphed playfully. Ben was the leader. Well spoken as presenter, and well voiced on piano with a gentle touch and moderate volume. Ben was not overly rapid, but he explored ideas without technical restraint, coolly and thougthfully rather than heart-on-shoulder emotionally. Sam’s such a lovely player. Terrific fluency, tone that’s present and not edgy, long runs of long intervals and arpeggios over several octaves, sharp right hand syncopations that patter with 16th notes. And solos that glowed with purpose. Ben V’s another varied character. He’s not so much a groove merchant as a lover of jumbled sounds. It’s seldom that he maintains a steady groove; rather there will be rat-a-tats on woodblocks or cowbells, or rudiments on any of the standard kit. He’s got an intellectual approach, knowing his rhythmic options, but he also presents an earful, sometimes sounding of jazz history with even patterns to match the strides or stomps they accompany. I remember him similarly playing with tones of window ledges, glasses and the like years back at Hippo.

This night that was so different from the previous. 3x2 has been quite a revelation; a marvellously diverse and intelligent offering. Thanks to Street and the bands, and I hope they do similar things again. Ben Winkelman (piano) led a trio with Sam Anning (bass) and Ben Vanderwal (drums) at the Street Theatre 2.

Vibes (Wangaratta 2009)

There are vibes around a few players at every festival. Linda Oh gained vibes during the festival, but Ari Hoenig and his offsider, Gilad Hekselman, arrived with them and didn’t disappoint. You could guess they’d be stars, given the support band as Australian heroes of their instruments, Jamie Oehlers and Sam Anning. I new the names but my jazz school mates were ecstatic in anticipation. Best soloist ever; best drummer. I could see from the start the best drummer, but I’m still considering the best soloist category for Gilad. But there’s no doubt these are guys at the highest levels. New Yorkers, both, of course. Ari is a powerhouse. He can set grooves that are confident and true to type: rock grooves, jazz grooves, funk grooves. These are not approximations, but the real thing: heavy and solid and determined, or light and lithe and delicate; whatever’s required, I’m convinced he can do. He communicates with his fellow players in a way that make you feel you are imposing on a relationship, it’s so true. I felt this with Gilad, where accents and changes of dynamics were instantaneous and perfectly in synch. Then those solos. He’d take a concept and dissect it in numerous, ever inventive ways, with the oddest of parts, perhaps 7 or 11 or just 8, and the cleverest of rudiments, but always with precision to die for and endlessly moving to the next. The precision showed up equally in dynamics. One minute, he’d worked up to intensity and rock punchiness, then from beat four to beat one it was ppp and the gentlest and most perfect of lullaby rhythms to put your baby to sleep by. His face expressed it all. Ever mobile and in touch with his fellow players and signalling one thing or another, or just observing. For Gilad and Ari observed, frequently, regularly, and you could see the result in their playing.

Gilad seemed firstly to me to be equally precise, but with a West Coast or ECM guitar clarity that I found too cool. And his early solos were tonal, fast but essentially folkish, I thought. My mates looked on in disbelief so I knew I had to think more on this. Through the next two concerts, there were solos that blew me away with complexity and speed and precision and alterations, so this was not just the simple melodies of folk, but I’m left still somehow unaffected. A master, of that there’s no doubt; but perhaps too cool, too precise. Strange, because I didn’t feel that with Ari.

The pair played with local heros, Jamie Oehlers and Sam Anning. Both are stars of the Australian jazz firmament. Jamie was flying up and down the octaves with mellifluous and lightly formed notes, and Sam was solid and in touch and capable in his soloing. But there seemed a disconnect somewhere, and I felt it in the last set when they played a blues. Gilad played a basic blues-guitar style, which was very different from a jazz blues. Think that folk simplicity that I’d heard on the first day. I thought, this is not a limitation of technique (none there!) but an exploration of style. Ari’s readiness to move styles – funk, blues, rock, jazz – fitted with this toying with styles. Jamie played his solo, and it remained in a jazz, post-Trane style. Gilad was playing these big, ugly chords in rabid contrast and I was wondering why. He probably hadn’t articulated it, but I thought these ugly intrusive chords were a demand to play the other, to put on a mask, to enter this ironic world of styles and fashions and relativities. Now, I’m not denying anyone’s capabilities here, but I felt here was a mismatch, and it was not around technique, but musical conception. On one side, the earnest modernism; on the other, the ironic post-modernism. Perhaps not conscious, in fact probably not conscious.

This evening before writing this piece, I looked at YouTube for a video of Ari. I found Ari and Gilad and a bassist, seemingly doing a workshop somewhere. The bassist was toying with his bass, spinning it, playing with it. Everything that an earnest jazz bassist doesn’t do. This was the giveaway to me. So, fabulous playing all around. Three eye-opening concerts, and drum solos to die for and to remember for posterity, and guitar lines that shred the octaves and harmonies. Similarly, sax solos of endless energy and capability. But essentially also a mismatch somewhere that limited the whole from being the great.

I’d like to hear what you think, if you were there… Just add your comments below.

Ari Hoenig (drums) led a quartet with Gilad Hekselman (guitar), Jamie Oehlers (tenor) and Sam Anning (bass).

Cool big band on location

Bennetts Lane Big Band was very cool, as was the venue. The film being made outside the door just added that additional bit of swizzle. Jazz clubs are great for that dark, searching, existential atmosphere that suits movie realism, so it shouldn’t be too surprising. The amusing thing was that it was all shuffle and busy-ness and light for the movie’s creation, and this was so different from the personal themes being filmed. Film making is like that. But musos stood amongst film crews while having a smoko, listeners lined up to pass through the blocked door after the performance, and generally the music had proceeded totally oblivious to the video-based arts happening just outside the door. It was strange in that way.

The BL Big Band was formed in 2001, and plays monthly at the club, along with other occasional performances. Big bands are not easy to gather, so you takes your chances when you can catch one. I was glad I got there for this evening. The band had three irregular players sitting in, and I’m not too clear who they were. Everyone seemed to be concentrating on charts, or otherwise sitting with distant faces while waiting for their parts to arrive. Nothing unusual here. They played two sets totaling 9 or 10 tunes: all originals other than Ian Whitehurst’s arrangement of Ellington’s Half the fun. Half the fun was a unique setting, with a steady rhythmic pulse underlying the whole. The other tunes were more complex, more varying, more symphonic. There were passages of simplicity, others of rabid bop lines, others of subtle and smooth harmonies, and those glorious individual efforts as solos and other features. There were ballads and lively rhythmic pieces and lengthier suites. There was leader Eugene Ball with introductory comments, and some witticisms. According to Eugene, one tune was like “James Brown on acid”, and another was “written for some visiting Danish deros”. I was amused by abstruse changes in a tune by Tim Wilson which moved between swing and sharp staccato horns through boppy lines to piano solo and ultimate cacophony and ended in baritone sax and bass trombone passing solo passages between themselves. It seemed a challenge for the band too, with starts and stops and counts and calls helping the players through the charts. I recognized several of the tunes from the band’s CD, The snip, but I found the performance was far more satisfying than the recording, perhaps given that the actual recording was from the first year of the band, although only released fairly recently. Tunes like Andrea Keller’s Portrait of a simpleton and Jordan Murray’s long and baffling Requiem for a parking inspector obviously tell stories although I was a bit befuddled by such a long piece for a parking inspector. But then I overheard the band talking of parking before the gig, so maybe it’s a big issue around Bennetts Lane and worthy of such an epic.

Some impressions to follow. Andrea Keller’s piano fills and solo passages were of great harmonic complexity and unexpected dissonance layering washes of emotions. Tim Wilson floored me with a really superb feature solo on alto: lengthy, totally unaccompanied, sounds of breath and flapping pads. The bass instruments featured occasionally: Sam Anning (who was sitting in) provided another stunningly effective solo; Adrian Sherriff on bass trombone was fabulously lithe in several solos; the bass horns, Adrian Sherriff and Phil Noye on baritone sax, swapping lines for that big bottom-end feature I mentioned above. Visitor Paul Williamson played another wonderful solo that was smooth sounding and inevitable, but with some challengingly jerky and edgy lines thrown in. But a large ensemble is not about individuality, rather community. Despite some players sitting in for the night, this was a mature and together performance, with sharp rhythms, clear-ringing harmonies, and mellifluous horns parts, to go with their modern, raging and sometimes confronting charts.

This was my first visit to the legendary Bennetts Lane. I obviously chose a great night to attend. I’d heard the CD several times, but I was not prepared for the stunning live performance and the good natured, relaxed presentation in this small and intimate space. Very, very nice and very memorable. See the film (Centre Place) by all means, but go out of your way to hear this big band. Just wonderful.

On the night, the Bennetts Lane Big Band comprised Tim Wilson (alto sax), Julien Wilson and Ian Whitehurst (tenor saxes), Phillip Noy (baritone sax), Paul Williamson and Eugene Ball (trumpets), Jordan Murray (trombone), Adrian Sherriff (bass trombone), Andrea Keller (piano), Sam Anning (bass) and Rajiv Jayaweera (drums).