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).

Oh-zone (Wangaratta 2009)

Excuse the pun, but I couldn’t bring myself to not use it. It was unexpected, but I managed to catch New York-based Australian bassist, Linda Oh, three times this weekend. A concert at the Band Room at very short notice, and two gigs at Wangaratta. Thus Linda Oh x 3 = O3 = Ozone. We may have repaired the Ozone Layer, but Linda remains a challenge, although in the most intellectually and emotionally pleasing way. This woman leads a trio with rabid energy and a bass style that’s hugely busy and mobile and all over the fingerboard. It’s a stunning technique. It took few outings to understand better what she’s playing. On the first I thought I heard heavily altered scales, although a jazz school mate suggested it was more sedate arpeggios and modes. Listening again, there were tunes based on repeated descending chords, some diminished structures overlaid, multi-octave arpeggios and harmonics and runs and chromatic leading notes. But it was not just the tonalities but also the sheets of notes that thrilled. The frequent bass solos punctuated complex melodies over tonal centres, her left hand reaching to the dumpy thin high notes, right up to the double octave, frequently slashing at double time from deepest bass to the highest notes with control and pitch and astonishing speed.

Her melody offsider, trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire, seemed tame next to such an outspoken bass style, but it was a very satisfying contrast and he played with individuality and passion. His was a more tender, restrained style, but rich with a trumpet history and inflections that I think of as New Orleans, breathy interludes and squeezed notes, sustained intervallic exercises, thoughtful and careful. It was on edge, too, with little fluffs becoming part of the performance, so there was honesty there too. But then they were playing to a jazz school student crowd who they had the workshopped that afternoon, so they were amongst friends. All this was at a restrained volume, which I don’t expect for such music. The second gig to a festival audience less relaxed, more formal, and I felt it was stronger. The third was their last, and they seemed concentrated, but more comfortable, playing to an audience they knew and admired their playing. Linda’s trio was widely seen as a standout at this festival, with good reason. Drummer Tommy Crane was similarly thoughtful, head down and concentrating, rolls and cymbal patter and rhythms expressing the melodies and pushing the frantic business. He too seemed stronger in festival gigs, although brought back to a more earthy level by Charles Tolliver to fit his musical style. I heard the trio’s original music as busy and modern, perhaps harking to experiments of the sixties: difficult music with no space for laggards. I think Corea’s Now he sings… era with bassist Miroslav Vitous: the sound was similar, as is the busy bass. Not easy, but accessible with concentration.

I actually heard most of the band four times, but the pun was too good not to use. Linda Oh (bass) led a trio with Ambrose Akinmusire (trumpet) and Tommy Crane (drums) at the Band Room, ANU and twice at Wangaratta Jazz Festival. Linda and Tommy also played a quartet set with Charles Tolliver and Mike Nock, but see the Tolliver report for that one.

Ambience (Wangaratta 2009)

There were several performances that I would place in the free fringe at this year’s Wangaratta. Difficult, richly improvised, music lacking in obvious form, and with a tendency to extremes of volume at one end or the other, and long crescendos and sustained cacophonies. I hear ambient, but I think the practitioners name it otherwise. I think Necks, and there was something similar in Band of five names. What interested me was the thought that they were educating us to listen: taking sounds and making them art. Perhaps the clunking of strings on a guitar, or an odd mallet on skin, or air blown through a trumpet without forming a note. There were spots of wonderful technical capability too, although I imagine some of a festival audience wouldn’t have noted that. I was astounded by a wonderful extended trumpet passage that weaved through key centres at one stage, and drums that were heavy and steady as lead (I imagine from Simon Barker’s Korean influences) and some simpler but precise piano tinkling that was so, so bell-like, with a purity beyond any Rhodes sound I’ve heard before. This was Band of five names, oddly featuring just four players, although expanded from the original three.

The Australian Art Orchestra was in related territory, although I reckon there was more form written but none too obvious. Again, difficult and demanding music and played with a high level of seriousness. Again, featuring a trumpet tonality. Scott Tinkler led the Orchestra in an extended piece he calls Folk. Folk is dedicated to, and images, folks he knows, seemingly mainly the music scene. From the top we realised there were two drummers, two trumpeters, two guitarists, along with bass and piano: an uncommon line-up. I was taken by passages of piano and trumpet virtuosity. I found the sound effects hard to take at times, but perhaps they were required. Guitars with various effects and the introduction with trumpet played into water for that unique bubble mute tone. I jest, but this was serious. I loved Marc Hannaford’s modern classical piano stylings, and the comparison of the two trumpets was fascinating. Scott Tinkler and Phil Slater are both renowned Australian trumpeters, but they sound and play so differently. I was particularly stunned by Scott’s long and sinuous lines at one stage: endless and virtuosic. But it was a hard one for the punters and plenty didn’t manage the distance.

I just caught a few bars of another ambient concert by Fallingwater Trio. The Sax sang lyrically in the reverberant cathedral space while the guitar and bass held a 7/4 pattern. I didn’t give them time to stretch, and ambient needs time.

So three dreamy, ambient concerts. Demanding of a meditative poise on behalf of the listener. Worth the time if you can achieve that. And educational to boot!

Band of Five Names was Matt McMahon (keyboards), Phil Slater (trumpet), Carl Dewhurst (guitar) and Simon Barker (drums). For this performance, the Australian Art Orchestra comprised Scott Tinkler and Phil Slater (trumpets), Carl Dewhurst and Stephen Magnussen (guitars), Marc Hannaford (piano), Phillip Rex (bass), Simon Barker and Ken Edie (drums). Fallingwater Trio was Phil Bywater (saxophones), Elliot Folvig (guitar) and Dale Lindrea (bass guitar).

Tolliver (Wangaratta 2009)

Charles Tolliver is not a household name in jazz, but he’s a living connection to a great era of hard bop from the sixties, having played in small and larger ensembles with the likes of Jackie McLean and Max Roach. I’d heard a few albums of his, and enjoyed the infectious tunes and lively playing in the smaller bands, and the outspoken energy and thrills of the larger formats. Charles led the Jazzgroove Mothership Orchestra for two concerts of his music, then a small band for a final performance.

The big band concerts were brash and loud and exciting, as they should be. Charles presents quite a forceful personality as a leader, with incisive gestures and clear indications. The horns responded well and played admirably in ensemble. Charles likes the effect of high trumpet notes, so these were not easy charts. I found Evan Mannell a powerhouse on drums, playing wonderfully apt fills and pushing the energy levels. This music demands commitment and lively outlandish involvement, and Evan fitted the bill perfectly, even at the second performance which was early Saturday when he seemed a little the worse for the previous evening’s wear. I felt the piano and guitar were too cool and didn’t really work in this context. I couldn’t hear the bass. The horns seemed to be working hard on the solos, but the mix was such that we missed the effort, at least on the first night. It was better on the Saturday morning. So these were two worthy gigs, although with some problems for me.

Charles played a small ensemble set for his third performance. It was as much a blow as a performance. It wasn’t a particularly well rehearsed outfit and the charts were Tolliver originals but they were good musicians and they carried it off perfectly well. Charles again led the band with instructions all round, especially to drummer Tommy Crane who normally plays a more fluid, coloured style than hard-bop. Linda Oh blew everyone away with wonderful solos and eminent concentration, but eventually relaxed and had some chuckles with Charles. Mike Nock gave a modern, modal twist to the performance. It was outside the tradition, but it fitted well and was a revelation. I remembered several charts from Paper man, a small band album Charles recorded in 1968 with Herbie Hancock, Ron Carter, Gary Bartz and Joe Chambers. Charles is not in his earliest days, and there was some struggling on the fast lines, but the performance still lifted the room and thrilled. These are certainly infectious tunes.

Charles Tolliver is a real link to hard bop in its prime, and was a pleasure to hear in the flesh. Charles Tolliver (trumpet) led the Jazzgroove Mothership Orchestra in two performances. He also led a small band with Mike Nock (piano), Linda Oh (bass) and Tommy Crane (drums).

Pleasures (Wangaratta 2009)

There are pleasures that are unexpected at a festival. You may know a renowned name, but you don’t know what to expect. Even when you do know what to expect, it’s just the right thing for the right time, and so a thing of pleasure. These were my unexpected pleasures.

The Carsten Daerr Trio was a surprise for everyone. Carsten leads a piano trio in a new German jazz. I laughed when I read the writeup that said Carsten can read between the 88 keys. But seriously, this was an interesting modern band, playing rock and jazz rhythms, sometimes bordering on ambient, sometimes heavy 4/4 or 3/4 with busy snare rudiments and crossed rhythms and capable bass solos. And some oddities including little gongs and a pair of melodians. But they were enchanting and delightful in a way that serious Australian bands aren’t. These guys were obviously tickled pink to be touring. They smiled and joked and played on their lack of English (better than my German, of course), and brought the house down. Lovely to see such joy. Here’s an example. “You’ve heard us now, so there’s no need to buy the CD … but we played the wrong notes here … we picked them [so you should buy the CD]”. It doesn’t work in print quite the same, but believe me, they were treated as stars. Some good entertainment and personality goes a long way, even in a serious form like jazz.

I knew what to expect from Kristin Berardi, but it still surprised me as fresh and honest and individual and wonderfully swinging amongst the heavier or freer sounds around. The delight of good swing struck me like a mallet. Kristen is wonderfully mobile with her voice, but also her songs tell of personal stories. I often wonder what it takes for a singer to share such intimate thoughts: her meeting with old Mr Johnson, the eyes of her baby son, the story of when she was dumped at University. But it was not just Kristen. She had a wonderful rhythm section and soloists with relaxation but class: James Sherlock, Mike Nock, Tim Firth, David Theak and some lovely duets: bass/vocal and guitar/vocal. This was invigorating and fresh swing, and reminded me of this staple of the jazz form.

Ish Ish was a discovery to me. I’d heard the name, and knew the player’s names, but not the sound. And it was blissful! Bass, drums, and a horn front line of trumpet, tenor and trombone; no chordal instrument. They played wonderful solos and grooves, but the standout was the supporting horns. Melodies with accurately intoned three part harmony or unison lines. Then a solo from one or other of the horns, and sharp snaps or counterpoint lines contrasting the solo and building with its intensity. There was a humour amongst the players, but a deadly serious musicality, which is a disarming combination. A big band in 5-piece guise, and alive with vigour and anticipation. I wished there was more. Loved it.

Carsten Daerr (piano) led a trio with Oliver Portratz (bass) and Eric Schaeffer (drums). Kristin Berardi (vocals) led a sextet with Mike Nock (piano), James Sherlock (guitar), David Theak (sax), Alex Boneham (bass) and Tim Firth (drums). Ish Ish was Eugene Ball (trumpet), Jordan Murray (trombone), Julien Wilson (tenor), Mark Shepherd (bass) and Ronny Ferella (drums).

And there’s more (Wangaratta 2009)

There were other worthy performers at the festival but for whatever reason, I didn’t catch them. I had decided to attend all the Linda Oh and Ari Hoenig and Charles Tolliver gigs, and I felt I understood them better for it, but it’s got a cost in breadth of vision of the festival. I missed the jazz awards, which take a festival in themselves. I heard a few bars of Andrew Robson’s Thomas Tallis Quartet, Laia Genc’s Liaison Tonique and Hoodangers. Here are some pics, including the strange reference to "No undies" in the dress code of one of the local pubs.

The other ambience for a jazz festival is the feel around town. Mostly, visitors are seen by the locals as good business, but Wangaratta closes a street (Reid Street) and presents a free jazz, food and wines event which brings in all the locals. It’s not the seriousness of the real thing, but it’s pleasant, allows some lesser names to appear, and promotes local involvement. Various bands from the Jazz School have appeared in the past, and this time is was the turn of Raf Jerjen. They bravely followed the capable local big band, Jazzaratta, with tunes from their new CD. It was quite a change from Buble and Stevie Wonder to their brand of Coltrane but they got away with it. Nice playing, too, from all members, and I particularly noticed some decent bass solos from Raf.

So how did I find Wangaratta 2009? It was a smaller festival this year, with a fairly sparse program. So despite this being the 20th anniversary, I doubt it was particularly memorable for the regulars. The town is nicely sized and pretty friendly and well involved with the festival. I took the homestay option and so met some locals and that’s a plus. The new theatres (Wangaratta now has a brand new Performing Arts Centre) are worthy, but perhaps too small for the big names when there are lots of visitors in town. There’s a good chance of patrons being unable to get in to a session or alternatively having to wait in long lines. This puts a distinct limit on the size of the event. You can only have so many people missing the big shows before you have dissatisfaction. There were gold passes to jump the queue, but that’s essentially a short term and self-defeating approach to a real problem.

The names weren’t so big this year, but they were still interesting and worthy, and a few were revelations. I don’t think you necessarily need the really big names, although it does draw the crowds and they make nice notches for your horn. The sound was much better this time in the otherwise reverberent St Patrick’s Hall. But the mix in the main theatre was not too good, at least for the first big band shows, which would be the more difficult to control. I was not the only one to mention he didn’t hear horn solos or the bass, and the piano was too high, at least for Mothership on the Friday night. The deep bass for kick drum and double bass was sometimes too pronounced, a tom mic was breaking up at the last Hoenig gig, and although the piano was a big concert Steinway, it sounded strangely lifeless. I doubt it was the gear, because it all looked fabulous and there was plenty of it.

But management gave me a media pass (I hereby announce my potential conflict of interest!) and I always find value in jazz at whatever level and there was plenty there. More than enough for a good weekend, and it is a great weekend. I haven’t even touched on the blues artists, which were getting glowing comments from the people I talked to. So I enjoyed it very much, and thanks again to management for the media pass. But it seemed a strangely subdued event for the 20th anniversary. Not the biggest and best Wangaratta, perhaps, but easily and always worthy of the visit.

Rafael Jerjen (bass) led a quartet with Luke Sweeting (piano), Joe Lloyd (also sax) and Aidan Lowe (drums) at the Reid Street stage.