Never wearied

It's their 45th anniversary concert tour and CD and these are masters and seasoned of our jazz craft so it's so surprise that this was such a deeply satisfying gig to attend.  Sure, we see them in smaller groups but to hear the compositions, the solos, the personalities, the arrangements of little big band colours is a special thing.  I'm still thrilling at the precision of those colours; of the contemporary classical crossover of Kevin Hunt's piano outings; of the touching depth of Sandy's introduction to the gig and Miro's Ornette-infused Nostalgia (isn't what it used to be) to end it all, of Steve Elphick's understated but ever correct Hadenesque presence.  And they fit a space like this, theatrical, spacious, respectful, nicely amplified.  It was casual, too, compered by Sandy and a space and casualness that we could see, experience the personality, musical and other, of each of these players.  I was amused by the cool pleasure of Warwick Alder and his chat with Miro; ever gregarious and friendly James Greening and his quips and then floored by his trombone responses to a Sandy solo; the as-one pairing of Sandy and Andrew and offsider Paul; Matt filling in for John Mackey, blowing in this own style and verve.  Rease Cameron was new to me, but nicely effective.  Just 10 tunes over 2 hours and two sets.  A hugely mature set of musos and musical and compositional grouping ends in a fabulous and deeply satisfying night of music.

Ten Part Invention performed at The Street Theatre.  10PI comprised Miroslav Bukovsky (co-musical director, trumpet, flugelhorn), Sandy Evans (co-musical director, tenor, soprano saxes), Paul Cutlan (tenor, baritone saxes, clarinet), Andrew Robson (alto), Matt Ottignon (tenor, flute), Warwick Alder (trumpet), James Greening (trombone),  Kevin Hunt (piano), Steve Elphick (bass) and Rease Cameron (drums).

Real adults

James Greening and mates came to Canberra and it was obvious the adults were in charge for the night, at least at the Gods. This was Greening from Ear to Ear. All light and jovial but supremely skilled and in command and well prepared. I wrote notes: respectful of tradition, deeply skilled, open, unpretentious, respectful, communicative (everything other Canberra- visiting adult-pretenders are not). But back to the music. The Gods is undergoing renovation, so we were in the Arts Centre foyer. More square, damply reverberant but nicely fat sounding with the audience. The band was close in one corner. This was a 7-piece band with three horns in front and the writing showed, as did the excellent musicianship. These guys are top of their trade and the harmonies were blissful and the grooves sat with precision, unstressed, seemingly so easy, but that's the skill showing. Playing music as it should be played is deceptively easy, but it takes years to master. These guys had it. These are Sydney masters and I was entranced. The first set was James' Tam O'Shanter Tales suite. He wrote the suite while in Tasmania and it's dedicated to the musical influences in his life: his family, Monk, his wife, Jackie Orszaski, with some less obvious insertions, like Parallel lines (a fabulous little big band chart) and Hazara (of more political relevance). I was stunned by the ease of interaction and perfection of the harmonised sound. These were not easy charts, but always played with easily but sweetly. Then the solos. I loved the Hammond tone from Gary and the fabulously twisting percussion from Fabian. James' solos were perfectly formed and Andrew's were a lesson in melodic statement, embellishment and development. I have admired his sax playing for years and I learnt something here on the night. Paul was more abstruse, less a matter of formal development than an emotional journey. Steve Elphick was sitting in for Brett Hirst and set some firm grooves and was nicely considered in his solo. I don't remember Hamish taking a solo, but every bar was rich with variation and connection. Another lesson. The second set was a few tunes from band members. Fabian played guitar on Domingo, simple descending chord changes over a medium tempo 4 with an Euro street vibe imparted by lovely accordion from Gary. Andrew's 22 degree halo featured Fabian's percussion solo that floored me with its delayed beats and falling rhythmic complexity (Latin training required). Then another then Lowdown, again from Andrew, funky with an odd count. There were changes of instruments: Rhodes - Hammond - accordion, or bass clarinet - tenor, or alto - baritone, or trombone - sousaphone - pocket trumpet (that's an odd combination and quite a challenge of sizes) or double - electric bass. All fabulously played, tight as, perfectly harmonised and blended. This was fabulous and about as good as it gets.

Greening from Ear to Ear played at the Gods. GfE2E are James Greening (trombone, sousaphone, pocket trumpet), Andrew Robson (alto, baritone sax), Paul Cutlan (tenor sax, bass clarinet), Gary Daley (accordion, organ, piano), Steve Elphick (bass), Fabian Hevia (percussion, guitar) and Hamish Stuart (drums).

Glee

There was much glee around James Greening (there usually is). This time it was about his frequent gigs here recently in Canberra. It's too bad that Andrew Robson and the rest of the band haven't been here so often of late. This was an eclectic outing, intelligent and varied and unexpected. Several times Andrew's baritone sax gave a funky Mingus or New Orleans groove when he took that up. But then another time he played a trio with bari, bass and drums and this was smooth, sleek, melodious. He liked to vary the instrumentation, too. It wasn't at all surprising that the front liners played bari/alto, tenor/soprano and trom/pocket trumpet. But it was surprising that James or Sandy left the stage for various tunes, and even more surprising when bassist Steve left. That was on Flex, a Jackie Orszaczky funky-blues dedication, where the bari took the bassist's role. There were some other dedications, too, to musicians Andrew has played with. Two watch Bob was a dedication to fellow 10 Part Inventionist Bob Bertles from a quip by Miro Bukovsky. This was a slow, lumbering groove with a jauntily lyrical melody (played without Sandy). A march, Sound the trumpet ring the bells, was also introduced with a story of Jackie Orszaczky. I heard Jackie O too infrequently, but he's one of those musicians with immense admiration amongst his peers. John Pochée was recognised with the opening tune called The Alchemist. This one featured two solos, alto then tenor. Against the alto solo, the band dropped out to leave just drums in support before returning; against the tenor solo, the remaining support was bass. Andrew wrote something similar in the piece I found most impressive for the night, Texas Ranger, which was bluesy with some fast bop, and twisted and playful like Ornette. What little I've written has been most successful when I used an idea, even an arbitrary idea, as a formulation, so his palindrome doesn't surprise me. It's called Glenelg and it's a musical palindrome (spelt the same forward and backward). It's a busy 8-to-the-bar on bass with a slow melody over and solos that decay to free then to recover the melody with drums taps on 3,4. BTW, we learnt that Steve is a cryptic crossword filler and he'd recognised the palindrome immediately. Combover was a light take on early jazz with frequent changes. These tunes were from a new CD that this quintet has just released. Unlike his previous albums, this was unthemed; Andrew just wanted to record a group of favourite tunes, so the varied nature is no surprise. I reckon I'd heard a few before. It was a joyful band, too, led by Andrew's smiles and James humour and Sandy's good will. James has been a total pleasure to hear so often of late: wonderfully lyrical while playful and wearing dissonance so lightly. I enjoyed Steve's understated firm and restrained bass playing and Hamish's presence and sympathetic playing. Andrew's presence is light and friendly, but his playing is intelligent, as is Sandy's expressive sax; I especially enjoyed the soprano this evening. Andrew is a Cnaberra boy and we need to see more of him. This was a great outing with a varied repertoire of pleasurable performance and underlying intelligence.

Andrew Robson (alto, baritone) led a quintet with Sandy Evans (tenor, soprano), James Greening (trombone, pocket trumpet), Steve Elphick (bass) and Hamish Stuart (drums).

Chalk and cheese

It’s chalk and cheese but I love it all. Last night was the Andrew Robson Trio playing with Sandy Evans. Andrew at one stage talked of Ornette Coleman’s influence on his playing and having heard and met him in Sydney. Ornette is not pre-bop, so you can imagine how far this concert was from my last report. The band also played a series of originals from Andrew and a blues by Coltrane. I particularly noticed the ease and beauty of the harmony lines from the horns when they appeared although they weren’t frequent. Otherwise this was a night of Andrew’s angular melodies and great solos against a syncopated and responsive rhythm section.

Andrew’s solos struck me as oblique, intellectual affairs of long intervals, uncommon scales, changing harmonies and truncated notes, but he surprised me with occasional smoother scalar runs. Sandy was more legato in her lines, more smooth and rounded and deeper in pitch and tone from her lower pitched sax but also from her musical conception. The rhythm section was modern syncopated and wonderfully strong in presence and responsiveness. Steve played one fast walk, but mostly the beat was divided, playing once on 1-2 or syncopating freely over the bar or playing obligato lines or even devolving into free along with the rest of the band on a dedication to Ornette. Toby was just sitting in but did an admirable job, eyes on charts and responding quickly to snippets of melody or to a line of solo. There was an easy enjoyment on stage for their annual visit to the Gods. Andrew is a local, having studied at the Jazz School, so was happy to have family in attendance, but the whole band was good-willed and chuckled frequently. Mostly, the tunes were originals by Andrew. There were a few dedications. That one to Ornette was called Texas Ranger and was clearly in his style, a bluesy open melody that dissolved into a passage of free jazz. Another dedication was to Don Johnson, now deceased but head of the Jazz School when Andrew was studying. The Coltrane blues was Locomotion. Otherwise there were some urgent moderns, Combover was a early bop-style, Silk Road was mysterious and floating, there was a ballad with a bass solo that was precisely pitched and rich with double stops, Children in the aisles was a reference to a catholics gig in Paddington.

It was a demanding but also satisfying gig. I wondered if Andrew’s family frequently attended jazz gigs, because it was complex, but it was also clean and professional and wonderfully played and quite insinuating. Andrew Robson (alto) led a band with Sandy Evans (tenor), Steve Elphick (bass) and Toby Hall (drums) at the Gods.

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

Subcontinental citizens

Citizens of Earth played at the Gods this week and it was a very different, very worldly set of sounds that we heard. CoE present a fusion crossover of Indian and jazz sounds: the complex flowing hand-drum rhythms of the tablas, the strangely-structured scales (for my ears) of Indian classical vocals and the floating sound of the sitar merged with Western alto clarinet (itself none too common), saxes, bass and drums. I was intrigued and enchanted, especially by the Indian classical music that got a few outings. Friends with some experience in this art had talked of its complexities and richness. We’ve all heard some and perhaps not taken too much notice, but the strangely spaced scales of the voice, its parallel in the sitar, and the richness of the tablas rhythms had me following every note. You could hear and sing the rhythms and patterns of tabla as his finger and hands pounded with all manner of taps and hits. You could feel the guitar-like nature of the sitar as he tuned up, but the intervals were other-wordly (or other-cultural). And the voice subsumed this all, with those odd scales and trill-like inflections. There was one solo where drums and tablas swapped passages, and I found myself stunned by the comparative richness of the tablas: they seemed to speak gently and truly, where the drums were similarly busy and expressive but relatively inelegant. Not the drumming itself, which was very capable, but the Western instrument was by nature less intimate: perhaps more swinging but less sensual (there must be a drummer joke in here somewhere). There was some good, steady bass, and a nicely simple but perfectly intoned solo that ended with chuckles after a lengthy faster passage. There were two woodwinds, Sandy on soprano or tenor sax, and Tony on alto clarinet. They were different tones, but I felt a similar approach in their solos: intellectual, diatonically exploratory, solid, uncompromising, although Tony did verge on emotive squeals in a duo he led. The tunes were mostly by members of the band with a few non-originals, but all were clearly in an Indo-fusion or -classical style. There were memories to me of John McLaughlin’s Shakti era, and someone else mentioned George Harrison and Revolver (presumably for the sitar tones; the Beatles wrote some tunes with slightly odd intervals but nothing so sophisticated or damn fast). There were lots of devilishly fast and complex and interrupted melodies played in unison by several instruments and voice and drums, with those modulating tabla rhythms underlying it all. The tabla, with grooves that were obviously Indian but perfectly understandable (for this read countable, and eminently singable, “dug dugga-dugga dugga-dugga dug”) to Westerners, less foreign than the intervals and scales. I noticed finger snaps that sat on 1-3 in place of a jazz 2-4, but the rhythm made sense to me. So my impression was of a wonderfully rich experience, some good crossover, but especially a memorable exposure to another set of artistic sensibilities in the Indian classical tradition. Much enjoyed and will be well remembered.

Sandy Evans (soprano, tenor saxophones) led Citizens of Earth with Sarangan Sriranganathan (sitar, vocals), Tony Gorman (clarinet), Ben Walsh (percussion), Bobby Singh (tabla) and Steve Elphick (bass).

Return of both master and style

I’d heard tell of Andrew Robson, and heard some snippets here and there, but never heard him or his band live. I did last night. And it was a stunner. I have spoken here before of two of my favourite albums of all time: The cry of my people / Archie Shepp and Love from the sun / Norman Connors. Both are from the early ‘70s; both have vibrant, earthy, rhythmic, soulful playing and political comment around race issues. Andrew Robson’s band reminded me of that music and that era.

The night started with a horn duo, Andrew Robson on alto and Paul Cutlan on bass clarinet, playing an apparently free set. They were both spectacular, calling up harmonies then melting into new ones, bouncing lines and echoing each other, changing rhythms and roles at will. This was intense and communicative and emotionally mobile music by two players who obviously know each other musically. Paul switched to Eb clarinet and tenor sax, and Andrew to soprano sax, so the tones changed, but the interaction remained intense and true. Andrew sounded more jazz-influenced lines, and Paul, perhaps inevitably given the clarinets, impressed me as a more classical idiom. They played two tunes. The first improvisation lasted perhaps 30 minutes; this was dense, exploratory, searching. The second was much shorter, in expectance of the trio to follow; this was flighty, buoyant, jumpy. I’d heard an earlier concert with this pair on ArtSound, but hearing them live was insinuating and engrossing. So I was stunned before the rhythm section even appeared.

The performers were billed as the Andrew Robson Trio with Paul Cutlan. After the two duets, Andrew called up the other members of the trio, Steve Elphick and Hamish Stuart. The tone of the evening changed. The first tune hit with simplicity at first, then a devilishly fast rainfall of bass notes which was to be repeated later in the tune, long lines of alto, continuing changes in rhythm and groove, abundant life and energy, and a clear path to the history and tradition of the art of jazz. A second tune was given over to Barack Obama’s win which occurred on this day (Australian time). You could hear New Orleans, and extended bop lines, and 60s free and sax masters. The first tune was Big Ben, a dedication to Andrew’s major influence, saxist Bennie Wallace. A mate reported that Albert Ayler is another influence. Whatever, I looked at a friend when the break came, and we were both overwhelmed by the virtuosity and honesty of this music.

The second set continued with long and sinuous unison melodies, a rhythm section that continuously mutated and weaved its way under clear and expressive solos, walks and syncopations, horn counterpoint, deceptively simple drumming and a wonderfully expressive drum solo, and horns and bass freely exploring their full ranges, into thumb positions on the bass and honks and squeals on the horns, with long intervals and extended intervallic runs. But always with purpose. The final tune was a dedication to Don Johnson, the inaugural head of the Jazz School in Canberra. He died several years back, but is well remembered by Andrew. This was his Ode to Abe Snake, apparently Don’s Native American name.

Here’s a product of our Jazz School who’s come back as a master. This was truly an intelligent, engrossing and profound concert, and a welcome visit to my favourite style of jazz. ArtSound was recording, so listen out for the broadcast sometime on Friday Night Live. It was a stunner.

Andrew Robson (alto, soprano sax) played with Paul Cutlan (bass clarinet, Eb clarinet, tenor sax), Steve Elphick (bass) and Hamish Stuart (drums).