Delights

It was a small break and the Con trail to Michelle Nicole.  Now I know Michelle well and have delighted in her performances in the past and this was just expected.  I'd been speaking glowingly of Michelle to the mostly Sydney audience and she wasn't so known.  Perhaps not a core group of jazz followers.  She didn't disappoint.  From the top it was detailed, distinct, subtle, emotional, exquisite.  She was playing with new guitarist James Sherlock and he fitted easily and with some expansiveness.  Pretty sure he was reading the dots for Bach and more, and his solos were exquisite works of sequences and slightly dirtied guitar.  And Tom's solos were beautiful, long arpeggiations over the fingerboard and intermediate detailed semitonal colours and sweet melody.  Ronny is recovering from an injury so was slightly subdued but he's always quietly delicate and supportive so still a pleasure.  And Michelle just always stuns and ingratiates with her intimate presence and singer's singer meticulous perfection.  This was their Bach project, something Michelle had designed as the jazz component at a classical festival and has now recorded and is touring.  A subtle mix of wordless fugues and minuets and sung standards.  Really a fascinating and successful exercise in arrangement with a composer who isn't out of place with modern song.  OK, the voice sometimes got lost in the mix but my neighbours at the gig were equally entranced when we chatted as we walked back to festival central.  Just a lovely return to Michelle and her band.

Michelle Nicolle (vocals) performed at the Orange Conservatorium with James Sherlock (guitar), Tom Lee (bass) and Ronny Ferella (drums).

Gig

After the workshop, the gig. First up was Palaver, comprising Miro and John from Canberra with Ronny, Geoff and Tom, Michelle Nicole's band. What a delight this was. Very different from Michelle singing standards. This was free music, unscripted, uncomposed, played in the minute. But this is free from highly trained jazz players and the awareness and comfort with harmony and rhythm and standard instrumental techniques is evident. This was glorious, sensual, grooving, intense or playful; great tone, odd polyrhythms, settled grooves, comfy crossing rhythms. It started with Geoff laying down a feel on his woody-toned guitar, the drums and the rest. Both horns were blissfully tuneful while open-eared and exploratory. If anything, it was the rhythm players, bass and drums, that were playing for colour while the lead instruments spelled melody. This is free that's easy to partake of: stella. Michelle came on and the style changed. Still overwhelmingly capable and satisfying and beauteous, but based on the standards repertoire: Once upon a dream, Too marvellous for words, I like the sunrise, Do nothing till you hear from me, Drop the smile Ellington Diga Diga Doo and Caravan. These are standards but done with great agility and freedom and interplay and with the addition of two star horns. It was an expansion on the tone of Michelles's band. I drooled over solos by both Miro and John, richly toned and improvisationally intriguing, but they retained a professional reserve as the sit-ins on the night. (That's a good lesson for excitable sit-in-ers). All things of wonder. Stella(r) playing and stunning vocal skills. What a wonderful concert.

Michelle Nicolle (voice) sang with Geoff Hughes (guitar), Tom Lee (bass), Ronny Ferella (drums),Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet, flugelhorn) and John Mackey (tenor) at the ANU School of Music. The band without Michelle performed free jazz as Palaver.

Workshop and

Michelle Nicole and her band started their visit to ANU School of Music with a workshop. First up, the most delicious rendition of There will never be another you. I was stunned. I know Michelle can sing and I remember feeling much the same way last time I heard her, but still I was stunned. A neat band with understated skills, a readiness to move and twist and play together, and a long history to support playing like this. But still I was stunned. Michelle is just so inventive, so involved in her songs, so free with her invented melodies, playing through chords or scales or whatever, but always with purpose and her light and immensely managed voice (I could say agile if it hadn't been appropriated by whomever). Then some talk, mostly from Michelle, but also from the band. Michelle had started on violin and played all manner of bands and plays piano and more but voice is her love, "it's easier" (jokingly, I suppose). She works things out on piano. Geoff talked on the pleasure of the band, not least as a guitarist in a piano-less outfit; of "trying to be more pianistic"; of an interest in all players for their different musical personalities; of freedom to play other than instrumentally-defined roles (alhtugh you are sometimes booked for just this). Finally advising to "get some buddies, stick together, play some music" [ie long-term]. Tom talked of role playing but seeking to stretch. Ronny talked of the 'listening drummer', of finding what's right and being flexible, musical, challenged, but also of an ability to "repeat and act" [essentially, play a groove]. Then from all, some more: develop your ears, transcribe (although not necessarily to paper); jazz as a chamber music, as a "self-organising organism"; a good band will accept members' inventions and play with the risk; "every instrument has its bag of tracks" but take time, enjoy melody and simplicity; slow down, get simple things right; for voice, make a good sounds, be able to sustain a note without vibrato, think like and instrument so voice is a peer. Then some student came up, some talking, some questions, some advice, always open and inviting. Jazz is like that. Commitment is all, improvement is forever.

Michelle Nicolle (voice) led a workshop with Geoff Hughes (guitar), Tom Lee (bass) and Ronny Ferella (drums) at the ANU School of Music.

Things of beauty and joy

It's not often you fall in love with music. This was one time. Michelle Nicolle was playing with her backing trio at Smiths. Miro came across and sat in. This is with the best. A delightfully easy and soft backing band, firm, clear, decisive but gentle and unassuming. Flighty but perceptive guitar solos. Easy bass, understated but indicative. Ronny on drums, soft and understated at back, but beautifully precise when he dropped in a fill or a roll or whatever. But not too much; never too much. And Michelle. The obvious front line of the show. A strong voice when called for, hugely detailed and precise and inventive, but never forced, always at the service of the song. The song was mostly Ellington and Stayhorn, so it was massively worthy song. And a lively, personal, humourous presence, joking of touring or recounting transcriptions. I think it was for A flower is a lovesome thing that she transcribed the intro verse from Ella and is ever avoiding sounding too much like her. Or the quicklines of John Hendricks that she sang over rhythm changes. Or the glorious beauty of tunes like With a song in my heart. She talked of writing songs, but retreating in awareness of the grand collection of the American songbook. I understand. Or about the song written by Ziggy Elmand and Johnny Mercer, And the angels sing, which she also sang. What a joyous thing of innocent beauty! Perhaps out of place but not unwelcomed was Cold Chisel's Forever now: another great song, but just not American songbook material. Nice to see the crossover and the Australian presence. Then the chatter about Disney princess tunes. It's not something I know anything of (my kids were boys): she sang Upon a dream from Sleeping Beauty, a modern composition in songbook style. A slow take on Caravan; even a final take on There will never be another you. But such a concert! A small but intimate audience following closely. I often wonder about people walking by Smiths when these stunning jazz musicians are performing. How can they pass by? Not sure I could. This was a true stunner. One week with Jonathan Zwartz and Michelle Nicolle, infrequent visitors from big smokes, just shows me how Canberra jazz has tanked over recent years.

Michelle Nicolle (vocals) led a band with Geoff Hughes (guitar), Tom Lee (bass) and Ronny Ferella (drums) at Smiths to launch her new CD, A flower is a lovesome thing. Miroslav Bukovsky (trumpet, flugelhorn) sat in for some tunes.

East Coast meets South India via Melbourne

I found a drumming theme in the performance of Ben Carr at the Gods. Ben's a sax player, but his music has plenty of rhythmic interest in the Brazilian music that he plays, choro, but even more so in some tortuous grooves and experimentations. The latin's lovely and rhythmically strong, but nothing like the complexities of Ben's arrangement of Coltrane's 26-2 with a reverse Indian classical take on 9 underlying it, or his musical response to a NYC t-shirt slogan that was dastardly uncountable to my ears, or a composition of the normal drummer in Ben's trio, Phill Collings (ex-Canberra/ANU School of Music), which was all odd times and pantonal, or Ben's own study of NYC hip-hop grooves called Beat research which counted in 17. The easy melodicity of Pixinguinha and Cavaquinho were a relaxation against this complexity but both styles were a joy. I loved Ben with his long lines spelling chords as in Coltrane and his often strangely clarinet-toned soprano sax (he explained it's in the hard reed and a search for woodiness), and Tom with his heavy reading lines and neat and expressive solos and sit-in drummer Adam with his so-sharp snaps on snare and tom and his classical-Indian inspired cuts to the beat, spacious then snapping with determined dissections. There were a few covers, the Brazilian music of Pixinguinha and Cavaquinho, of course, which were of a different world altogether, and that take on 26-2 which was sufficiently reimagined to deserve considerable rights, and Joe Henderson's Isotope and Alister Spence's Maianbar. This was the exposed sound of a sax trio, clear and demanding and intellectually satisfying. It was a great gig that was too poorly attended.

Ben Carr (tenor, soprano saxes) led his trio with Tom Lee (bass) and Adam King (drums) at the Gods.

Voice again, but worlds apart

It’s a big weekend for the Canberra 100th Birthday and Michelle Nicolle is performing by the lake for the big day, but Megan and I saw the quartet as they should be, at Vivaldi’s, in a dark-despite-daylight cabaret space, for a Loft jazz audience. I spoke to Ronny and he described the music as chamber. This is right and the venue was perfect. So much more intimate and detailed than the Q Theatre, where I last heard them, or by the lake later today. This was delicate and detailed performance. The songs were communicated, in all their mid-century style and passion and knowing corniness. The interplay between performers was exceptional, especially the front liners, Michelle and Geoff. I loved hearing the words to tunes. I realised I don’t listen to singers often, so the intros to common tunes, like All the things you are or There will never be another you, went unrecognised. But they become important with sung tunes: they introduce the context of the passion expressed within. And I was blown over by Michelle’s richly varied and embroidered singing. It’s what jazz singing is, of course, and this was stunning. All sorts of harmonised lines and unexpected twists and scat over a long range and improvisations and even quiet accompaniment behind guitar and other solos. And such a mature voice of body and range and expression. It’s a joke that she follows Jaap Blonk of the night before, although they are both vocalist and both are masters of their trades. I love to hear words and voice and visit the raw and surfaced emotions of the great era of cinema that these tunes come from. The band was touring their new CD of Mancini songs, so there was some clever, some touching and some just plain silly writing: Moon River (too-common and syrup, but I love it), everyone’s first bass riff Peter Gunn, I love you (and don’t you forget it), Dreamsville. I didn’t know he’d written Days of wine and roses, or that it’s from a film that she described as one of the saddest films, with Lee Remick and Jack Lemon, of alcohol and love and the rest. I must look that up. Then fluff like It had better be tonight (Meglio stasera): “If you're ever gonna kiss me / It had better be tonight … Meglio stasera / Baby go go go / Or as we natives say / "Fa subito!"”. Wow! Or On the street where you live. How to take it seriously? When it’s this good, you can’t not. But not just mid-century. She also sang decent Australian pop: Quasimodo’s dream by Dave Mason and The Reels and Forever now by Don Walker and Cold Chisel. And what nice vocal accompaniment, distant and unobtrusive. I use “nice” for a reason. Nothing out of place. Perfectly fitting, well arranged, Ian Moss solos on bass, odd times and complex unison counterpoint lines on guitar and vocals or bass, such light and crisp guitar, a perfect bass tone, so sparse drumming, open and clear sound and even a flugelhorn when Miro sat in for a few tunes. But always light, delicate, intimate. I’m listening to a CD now as I write this. A CD hasn’t got the same presence, but that intimacy and delicacy are there, along with chops. Calm, understated, richly embroidered but never, never jarring. I liked this gig so, so much. Michelle Nicolle (vocals) played Mancini and more with Geoff Hughes (guitar), Tom Lee (bass) and Ronny Ferella (drums). Miroslav Bukovsky sat in for two tunes.

Cocktails

Bands are unique as each player is unique. I noticed this particularly with James Annesley’s band when it played at the Gods. The second tune was the lovely old Bye bye blackbird and it started with Tom on bass accompanying James on soprano sax. I could hear the strains of an authentic ‘50s jazz bar here. More Shorter than Coltrane (although I heard strains of Trane in other tunes) and a simple but nicely taut bass. Then Hugh came in on drums, maintaining the feel of the era, even visually as he sat over the kit, toms forming a pretty flat surface with the snare and the cymbals laid low. This feel faded but the individuality of the band firmed when Other Hugh came in. Other Hugh is Hugh Stuckey on a guitar that sounds more recent with searing fusion solos of long lines softened with digital echo. So I heard mixed eras but what else is music these days? The tunes, too, varied over eras. The first set had several covers: early and modern standards like Bye bye blackbird and Impressions and a funky Tutu to end the set. The second set was heavy with originals and these floated with colour and landscape: mostly single chord grooves, some with odd times or contorted turnarounds. The band played through these charts, almost as a medley. I caught few titles when listed later. I think one original was called Erin’s enthusiasm and I could really feel a kid’s enthusiasm in the 7/4 groove and occasional contortions and endless inquisitiveness in the sax solo. I liked the way the band was busy but gentle: busy with Other Hugh’s forthright guitar against Tom’s doggedly solid bass but there was also obvious Coltranesque spirituality from James on soprano. I enjoyed the drum solos, too. First Hugh cut time into triplet feels and rolls that just dropped out of the rhythm. There was colour in the choice of drums, but mostly this feeling of falling through the skins and through the tempo. The overall feel of the night for me was modern with delicious band dynamics: often quiet, reserved, moving with colours and landscapes, but also outspoken with that forceful guitar and its broad sweeping arpeggios and dissonant sequences. This was comfortable and inventive playing with a really solid, steady underlay. Modern, occasionally brash sounds that spoke also with the language of a swing era. Somewhat like the cocktail of this title.

James Annesley (tenor, soprano saxes) led a quartet with Hugh Stuckey (guitar), Tom Lee (bass) and Hugh Harvey (drums).

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

Of an era

I’m surprised at my reaction to Mark Fitzgibbon and his quartet last night at Melbourne’s Paris Cat. This was the opening night for 2011 for Paris Cat (Bennett’s Lane and Uptown and Dizzy’s are still closed). The place was packed with perhaps 90 people and standing room only. It was hot and sweaty, and the first tune was Hot house and it was steaming. I felt like we were in a period piece: authentic, but also somewhat removed. The club’s ambience is of an era: dark, brooding, Picasso-modern. The volume was restrained, not contemporary in-your-face but acoustic-like: good for the ear drums, but also less involving. The audience was large, but one that streams out at the last tune.

Certainly Charlie Parker's Hot house placed the band, and they played it with comfort, and Dave Rex, the alto player, with abandon. His playing sat so well with the bop style, running the chords with ease, then weaving and turning with extravagant contortions and falling to tritones. Rhythm section, Rajiv Jayaweera and Tom Lee, were comfortable and solid. Tom’s tone is soft and clear and his is playing cool and considered. The flourishes are in his hands rather than his playing. Raj always appeals to me as similarly cool and the one solo I caught was understated and might have passed as accompaniment, but there was also gentle flamboyance in those responsive hits from the bop tradition. Mark called up singer Sonia Veronica for a ballad, Billy Strayhorne’s A flower is a lovesome thing, which was performed purely and touchingly. I particularly enjoyed Tom’s bass on the ballad, so clear and sparse. The other three tunes (I only caught the second set, and it was disappointingly short) were presumably originals from Mark’s album, soon to be released. These were in the post-bop tradition of solid melodic statements and fewer chords and less frequent changes. Two were slow. One was a rock rhythm. A third was a ‘60s hard bop with medium-up walk. Nice open vehicles for improvisation. This is where I took note of Mark against a cool rhythm section, busier, swishing through arpeggios, softly but with controlled energy.

These are just minimal notes from one set that ended unexpectedly. Nice playing well positioned in a mainstream period. Mark Fitzgibbon (piano) led a quartet with David Rex (alto), Tom Lee (bass) and Rajiv Jayaweera (drums). Sonia Veronica (vocals) sat in for one tune.

Perfected pitch

A female singing mate who I met at the Michelle Nicole gig wondered if Michelle had perfect pitch. I’d noticed just how pitch perfect she was, from the deepest growls to the highest of soprano tones. It was exquisite how she’d jump through fifths or octaves to these sky-high pitches, and still, to my ear, be spot on pitch. And it’s true, she did start tunes with no accompaniment, and they were on pitch when the backing band entered, so I guess she did have pp. It was not the only pleasure on the night. Michelle was playing with a trio that she’s long known, and the interaction and close responsiveness showed throughout the night. Lovely, intuitive responses; dynamics that moved instantly; tunes moving up and under and through the chords, led by Michelle or another player, but always sweet and accurate.

The tunes were also a joy. Singers add a special touch that instrumentalists can’t, given the stories they can tell and their use of language, which is perhaps the defining attribute of humanity. As I write, the songs seem corny, but they are mostly well known and Michelle gave them a rare humanity and personality. There will never be another you; You made me love you, I didn’t want to do it (sung in film by a teenage Judy Garland to a photo of Clark Gable); Dearly beloved; Hey you, you with the stars in your eyes; When you’re in love, it’s the loveliest night of the year; So in love; Lover. Standards from the early days that we might scoff at. They are certainly innocent, but there’s truth and wry humour there too. A new one on me was There’s a small hotel, which Michelle introduced as “risqué in its day”. I’m sure it was, but it was simple and open and a touching statement of desire. Subtle yet knowing and not at all in-your-face as we’d be now. There were a few jazz tunes, too. A surprisingly lyrical ballad by Ornette Coleman (?). I wondered if I’d heard this right; I didn’t catch the title just the name. I now think it was Lonely woman, a Horace Silver ballad that Ornette's famous for performing. And a Tadd Dameron tune called If you could see me now.

Back to the playing. Michelle was perfectly pitched and timed, involved, accurate. The band was similarly in touch, similarly accurate. Geoff toyed with volume and very moderate effects, but otherwise just played so stylishly and aptly, fast at times, but never brash. Ronny was similarly in touch and light and understated. I had trouble hearing Tom, with a soft tone and not the best mix, but he too was connected and restrained and took a nice solo or two. So, fabulous singing and a wonderfully in-touch band, and simple and touching tunes. A great night.

BTW, I should also mention the venue. Michelle played at The Q: the Queanbeyan Performing Arts Centre. It’s new, comfortable and capable, and easy to access and park. Something like our own Street Theatre. They had had a launch of the theatrical calendar for 2010 before the concert, and it’s looking busy and interesting. I wish them luck. And special thanks for the gratis tickets they gave me for this show. I wasn’t expecting to go, but enjoyed it immensely when I did.

Michelle Nicolle (vocals) was backed by Geoff Hughes (guitar), Tom Lee (bass) and Ronny Ferella (drums) at the Q.

Moody giraffe

Text by John Baczynski, pics by John & Neal Gowan

In direct contrast to the frosty weather outside, the James Annesley Quartet from Melbourne delivered a warm and thoroughly entertaining performance to the delight of a very appreciative audience. The physical layout of the Gods Café also encouraged a fabulous intimacy, often lost in larger venues, making the night even more enjoyable.

Opening with a Bob Dylan cover, "Girl from the North Country", Annesley (tenor and soprano sax) calmly and confidently played evocative floating solos. The rest of the night consisted mostly of originals, with a couple of standards thrown in (Tutu and You Don't know what Love is) all played in an expressive modern jazz style. A stand out was the original "Idle hands do the Devils Work" which not only showcased many of Annesley's abilities on the saxophone, including circular breathing to extend a trill, but also gave Hugh Stuckey the chance to demonstrate his great talent on guitar. Stuckey clearly enjoys his playing and is a delight to listen to as he constructs clean, precise, and fast expressions throughout his solos. Rhythmically, Hugh Harvey (drums) provided a solid foundation to all of the pieces. Hugh created a particularly trance-like mood during his solo for "Giraffe" in which he effortlessly produced an array of fascinating sounds from his cymbals and then shifted back to a organic feel by playing his kit bare-handed. Tom Lee on Bass was flawless throughout the night and his playing was given prominence during the sax and bass duo "Claustrophobia".

As a whole, the quartet displayed an intimate understanding of each others musical vocabulary and technical ability which resulted in a lush, layered and varied sound that was interesting, considered and precisely executed. It was also great to see a group clearly enjoying what they do. Well worth seeing next time they come back to Canberra (hopefully soon).

Teen spirit

It was a quiet night at Folkus and not too well attended, but the music was mostly original and the playing capable and interesting all round. James Annesley was visiting Canberra on tour from Melbourne and he was supported by a local student band led by Andy Campbell.

Firstly Andy. I hadn’t heard his band before, but I knew they’d been performing recently. The music turned out to be all original material penned by Andy himself. Sometimes meditative, often restrained; mostly straight eight feels although there was a rapid walk in there which was more boisterous; deliberate and dynamic rhythm playing by Hugh on drums and Chris on bass, constantly responsive to long melodic and solo lines. Again, we hear current students playing interesting, complex, original tunes: it bodes well. Andy Campbell (guitar) played with Austin Benjamin (piano), Chris Pound (bass) and Hugh Deacon (drums).

The James Annesley Quartet was the feature band on tour from Melbourne. From the top, they were louder than Andy’s band, and more confident with a brasher style of music and some terrific playing. Again, the tunes were mainly original, other than the Marcus Miller/Miles Davis Tutu, and the last tune of the set, the one they didn’t introduce, Nirvana’s Smells like teen spirit. Teen spirit has a strongly insinuating melody line that just clicks in the jazz idiom, and they did it justice. James played tenor and soprano saxes, but was more commonly on soprano. His playing was clear and incisive and fluent throughout. Hugh Stuckey was also a blast. He reached the finals of the National Jazz Awards for guitar at the last Wangaratta Festival, so it was not unexpected. He was fluent, subtle, elusive. It was fast playing with a lush background echo, so modern sounding. Rapid lines often merged with chords; generously spaced; open and searching for a response to the surroundings; resting between passages with a flourish of his left hand. Tom Lee played a strong and regular line on bass. He moved with his bass lines: more than anyone else I remember seeing. It’s interesting to see how musos respond to what they hear: variously cool and unmoving or mobile and expressive. Hugh Harvey combined with Tom for the steady, go-ahead bedrock rhythm, and played some nice solos of his own. I doubt my description does them justice. I thoroughly enjoyed the confident, capable performance in a modern post-bop style. There’s still a chance to catch them at the Gods next Tuesday. Well worth the outing. James Annesley (tenor, soprano sax) played with Hugh Stuckey (guitar), Tom Lee (bass) and Hugh Harvey (drums).

And remember to support music like this! Folkus is increasingly providing the venue for comfortable, intelligent, listening jazz. Use it or lose it.