Calmer than Shanghai

CJ started when I was rediscovering the jazz scene, this time here in Canberra. Some of my first posts were of the Wayne Kelly Trio. I’d first heard Wayne in the 1980s and he impressed me mightily. I drifted off to other interests, but when I returned, Wayne was there playing around town in a wonderful modern trio with capable players – Ben O’Loghlin and Mark Sutton – and was soon to record a CD. Wayne has since been to Macau and Shanghai for 3 years and recently returned. Last night was the first since his return that I’ve heard him playing his non-commercial side, and it’s as satisfying and impressive as ever.

Last night’s trio comprised Wayne with Phill Jenkins and Col Hoorweg. They played both lovely subtle or stretched out versions of Wayne’s original repertoire, including a few new tunes, like the boppy Shanghai taxi driver and a very lovely love song. The bop is the side of Wayne that I know: sometimes lyrical and hard swinging as in his dedication Mr Hank Jones, boppy for the blood-pressure raisers like Shanghai taxi driver and What’s the number, and strains of McCoy Tyner in his King of kings and others. An interesting addition to his repertoire this time around was a love song performed by Angela Lount and Steve Amosa, with male and female verses and a harmonised verse to finish. It had the presence of a musical: the final tender tune that ends a tragedy, like West Side Story’s Somewhere. Touching and quite beautiful; unexpected but much appreciated. Phill and Col did admirable service. Phill always underplays his volume, but he played some nicely challenging ostinatos and some solos that spoke the chords very nicely. Col played with energy and his characteristic varied percussive sounds. I particularly enjoyed a (metal?) pipe that he hit with a stick and damped with his palm. He expanded his palette further for a percussion solo that I found interstingly varied. There were a few sit-ins for the night: singers Angela Lount and Steve Amosa, who I mentioned above, but also Ben O’Loghlin, bassist from the earlier WK Trio. He’s now in Melbourne, and surprisingly still getting out despite very recent parenthood. Ben sat in for two standards, and the old magic was still there: strong sound, driving swings.

It was a small outing but a chummy local get-together, like a house party. Great to see Wayne back in town and I’m still loving his music. Thanks to Wayne. Wayne Kelly (piano) led a trio with Phill Jenkins (bass) and Col Hoorweg (drums). Ben O’Loghlin (bass) sat in for a few tunes, and Angela Lount (vocals) and Steve Amosa (vocals) sang one touching love song.

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart

The Balkans come to Dickson

I was at Dickson to attend a gig at the Loft and it was there I caught Alister Gray-Price busking with accordion in Balkan style. I enjoy this style: lively but also anguished. It’s an attractive combination. Perhaps not surprisingly, this mix seems to be very popular amongst singers. In the jazz scene you need just mention Mara! which is led by Llew and Mara Kiek and features such luminaries as Sandy Evans, Andrew Robson and Steve Elphick. The Balkans are a troubled region, on the border of East and West and of Christianity and Islam. Maybe that’s why the music is as seductive as it is. And it is.

Carl's back

Carl Morgan and his band returned to Canberra and the Loft last night for a reiteration of their gig of last November. I’ve just reread that writeup and it’s mostly relevant to this gig with its very complex, rhythmically varied pieces. Like the sweeping melodies of five note runs that mutated in minimalist style as they crossed triplets in 15/8 bars. All that with written bass lines that were richly syncopated, sometimes sounded in unison by a piano left hand that was otherwise playing charted voicings. This is not easy music to write or to perform and it’s no surprise that the repertoire was much the same as the last visit. There’s a lot of detail here and presumably development over time. I certainly overheard Mike saying he needed to do more work on one, and it was already pretty well scripted.

But the feel of the band was hotter this time. Partly because they were on tour. Partly because they are readying for a recording over Easter. But I think mostly because they were playing with master drummer Ben Vanderwal. Ben is a fabulously strong player in many styles. In this case, he was nuclear-powered (what a coincidence: Carl’s Jazz school nickname was Nuke), reading charts but also energising them with hard and fast playing that was nonetheless subtle. I’d heard some of those drum effects on record, but this was an eye-opener. I particularly noticed rolling fills across the set that were so smooth and must have taken much practice to perfect. This was easy technique with purpose and endless power.

The others are no slouches, of course. I heard more of pianist Steve Barry this time. He did plenty of rhythmic accompaniment but that tended to get lost a little amongst drums and amplifiers. But his solos were clearer: lovely exploratory and angular outings in a bop style of right hand solo and left hand chords with a modern sensibility of disjunction and freedom across barlines. Carl was the same. I thought his guitar could have screamed more in the first set (old rock habits die hard), but the second set was louder and the tone was fuller and more sustained. I caught a few glitches but I love the way he plays with melodies that say hectic big-city. Mike was more boppy to my ears, running chords in more scalar style, but again easy and fluent. Alex was fabulous, bent over his bass, syncopating like hell and sitting nice octave fills into a line to hold the band together. He was chatting with audience after the gig and said how he gets simpler when things go out and how he sees his main tasks as to play the tonic and elucidate rhythms with drums and piano.

This was a great night of sophisticated jazz well on the road to virtuosity. A stunner. Carl Morgan (guitar) played challenging original compositions with Mike Rivett (tenor sax), Steve Barry (piano), Alex Boneham (bass) and Ben Vanderwal (drums). Keep an eye on Carl’s site for the CD.

Busker’s mecca

Woden Town Square must be the busker’s mecca. Today I saw a double bass busker, Matt Smith. He must be my first double bass busker and it’s great to see and hear those soft tones. It’s a small world. Matt was playing Chris Pound’s bass while he’s overseas. We were both going to hear Carl Morgan that night at the Loft. And to top it off, I mentioned Matt when I returned to work and a workmate, Clare, said she’d gone to school with him. Who needs six degrees of separation?

A Catholic but not too much

“A Catholic but not too much” is a line from Astor Piazzolla in 1959, quoted by Geoff Page. It continues “We ourselves are God and Devil”. I was most interested to hear the Geoff’s words as he recited to music of Piazzolla played by Marcela Fiorillo. The words were poetry by Geoff with Piazzolla as theme and they were considered and descriptive. They were a steady point of reference for this emotional music. For this music is emotional, like the tango dancing that it accompanies, and I feel we just touch the edges of its passion. I may believe in the passion and the lives that are spoken by it, but it’s not of my experience. Writing this, I think of films around the time of WW2 that have a similar power: dignified paeans ripe with anguish of damaged and shortened lives. This is nothing like Canberra circa 2011 (except maybe in the PR hives of each of the major parties when weekly polling is released). Geoff’s words help: the mentions of shark fishing, of New York, of music for the ear as much as for the feet, of the hidden subversion at the time of the Generals, of the 11 minutes of the Grand Tango as the walk through one’s life. That’s not my experience but it’s recognisable, as Piazzolla is recognised and the tango is recognised.

Marcela Fiorillo was playing the music of Piazzolla, variously transcribed or arranged by her. It’s music full of busy, contorted overlays that sit over structures that are often quite simple. I noticed a very common recourse to a cycle that I guessed was the full range of fifths: IV-VII-III-VI-II-V-I. Maybe it’s a movement that fits the bandoneon. This is hard-hitting, unrelenting music that befits and mirrors the passions of the dance. The pieces were mostly fairly short, but the Grand Tango that ended the first set and especially the Tangata that ended the show were richer, longer, more developed pieces. This is the art-cum-folk or serious-cum-popular crossover that Gershwin represented for jazz: a music respected in concert hall and in dance hall.

Geoff and Marcela bring a mature and literate audience for a show like this and it fits Canberra’s dark Viennese bar, Tilley’s. The ruddy paint and contrasting sharp lights and mirrors are par for the course and did justice to the tango. The piano less so: it’s electric despite the timber casing and its tone disappointed. But the night was magical as a mix of words and thoughts and busy notes that spoke truly to Marcela’s background and Geoff’s interests. This was a homage to Piazzolla and a wise and respectful performance.

Marcela Fiorillo (piano, transcriptions, arrangements) accompanied Geoff Page (poetry, recitation) in the Grand Tango: a homage to Astor Piazzolla.

Joyspring

Dominique Fillon didn’t actually play Joyspring but he may as well have, because this was a night of great joy in playing. Dominique doesn’t play at the extremes. The style is more latin-influenced mainstream with delicious tonal playing. It’s very attractive jazz and capable of great popularity. We saw it on the night. The two sets went down a treat with a mixed audience. There were smiles all around during and after the show. There was a friendly patter with the audience, even one that started by offering a string of languages. Hands up, who speaks French (plenty), English (most), Spanish (several), Portuguese (a few), Russian (surprising there were several, but this is Canberra). And so it went. Attractive, lively, beautifully played music and open, friendly interaction. Dominique is self-taught, in his bedroom, from an early age, listening to the greats. The result is earthy and personal and perhaps less intellectual. The lines just glowed with melody, not at all hard to decipher or appreciate. This was a performance in which entertainment was important and it was none the worse for it. Jazz was like this through the mid-20th Century when it was a popular art form. It may be still that way in Latin American countries. And it’s no less for it, this lovely fusion of entertainment and art.

Dominique is on an Asian tour with his Australian Trio: musical mate Nic Cecire and Brett Hirst. They are a sympathetic band. Nic is very understated, listening closely and laying right back; feeling grooves and leaving solos to when he’s called. They were exciting when they came, too, loud and thrashing and obviously well received by an excited audience. (What did your Mum tell you? It’s the quiet ones you have to watch!). Brett got lots more solos and they fitted like gloves to the tunes, sometimes melodic, other times rhythmic, mostly with a twangy, metallic Jazz Bass tone. Dominique played with little atonality but one descent into expressionist tonal playing had me thinking he was classically trained. Presumably it was just more listening. He occasionally sang, too, or more correctly, followed melodies with his voice. They played mostly original tunes from his recent CD. Its title, Americas, may explain the latin impression. A big swinging rhumba was well received, but there was also a dedication to Michel Petrucciani and a lovely ballad for his wife, Song for Ake. There was just one non-original that I remember, a funk-rock take on Wayne Shorter’s Footprints. And a piano tone to die for. The band had borrowed gear locally, but Dom carried his piano tone in a traveller’s laptop. What a tone it was: close your eyes and this was a real piano (very different from my experience the following night). But the memory I will most hold from the show is the ironic but very affectionate groans when he explained how he’d written his romantic Song for Ake. This was an audience in touch with a performer and some really nice blokes. Not many shows speak with such joy and humanity.

Dominique Fillon (piano, vocal accompaniment) led a trio with Brett Hirst (electric bass) and Nic Cecire (drums) at the Alliance Française. His Australian / Asian tour visits Korea, Brunei, Singapore, Sydney, Perth, Melbourne and perhaps more and is sponsored by the French government and Alliance Française.

Happy Birthday Harry

The music for Harry’s birthday was jumpy and oblique. Tim Willis was the guitarist and composer for The End and Harry was Tim’s nephew. I’m not sure how this music fitted a sixth birthday (this is not the Wiggles) and also not sure how you contemplate modern jazz that produces these sounds. This is such a different music from Miles or, it seems to me, even one of their cited influences, The Bad Plus. I thought perhaps there was surf music in it or rockabilly and even metal. Tim just called it jazz and I was admonished by a mate for seeking categories. Whatever, I find all this refreshing, and this no less than other new forms. There were solos, especially against long crescendos. There were some very complex unison ostinatos, behind drum solos but also elsewhere. There were passages of immense quietness which surprised me given a quintet lineup with two horns. The music wasn’t really loud, even if there were some spots that were. There were drums that were immensely controlled or alternatively explosive. There were guitar and sax solos that were malleable or even purposely indecisive in pitch and richly changing in perverse harmonies. There were melodies that went with and against harmonies, and ones that responded to rhythm section calls. There was guitar that was woody and echoing and dirty as but also simply melodic, even in keys that clashed dissonantly with underlying chords. There was repetition in the rhythm section, with e-bass clarity on Fender Jazz, yet there was also zestful simultaneous soloing on two horns with guitar. There were lots of odd time signatures and changes despite an unnerving apparent simplicity. There was all this, over entertaining melodies that spoke of simplicity and humour. But this is not simple. Not really like The Wiggles.

Great show. There’s a huge variety of jazz happening these days with all historical forms existing together in a formless postmodern quantum realm with influences from wherever. This music that embraces the quirkiest to the most serious and the endless combinations they make. What is jazz? Who knows, but ya gotta love it.

The End comprises Tim Willis (leader, guitarist, composer), John Felstead (tenor), Jack Beeche (alto), Gareth Hill (electric bass), and Nick Martyn (drums).

Friendly rivalry

Funnily enough, last night’s jam session at Hippo’s was called by the Rivals. It’s just a name, but so apt in this context. After all, there’s always a bit of brashness and rivalry at a jam session, even if it’s perfectly friendly as this one was. A large part of jazz is the individualist art of improvisation and a bit of amiable competition is par for the course. This is playing for your peers and, especially in a form like jazz, your peers are your most aware critics. It reminds me of the admonition: Miss practice for one day and you notice; miss practice for three days and the band notices; miss practice for a week and everyone notices.

I arrived while the Rivals were playing an introductory set. I was stunned by how good was the music as I was walking up the Hippo steps. It was wonderfully informed and stylish music with tuneful melody and complex underlying harmony in a style I truly love. The Rivals are normally a trio: Luke Sweeting, Stuart King and Hugh Deacon but for this gig they were joined by Reuben Lewis and Matt Handel. Stuart told me he’d spent hours writing lines for the horns over the weekend. These were not always balladic in form, but they were harmonically complex as ballads are. Nice solos and good reading by the horns, too, but the writing was the main attraction for me. This is seriously satisfying music and will be worthy of the recording when they get to it.

Then followed a series of outfits thrown together for a blow. They were all playing standards with that singular urgency that you hear at jam sessions. It’s particularly interesting to hear players next to each other and observe their various styles and approaches. It’s impossible to deny skills or listeners’ preferences or just plain talent, so we will always have preferences, but these are all trained players and they all have something valid to say. I was especially interested in several newer players who I hadn’t heard: early year jazz students and even a classical bassist who’s making a crossover into jazz (most impressive!). No doubt they will appear on CJ over time. I got to sit in, too. The tune was Have you met Miss Jones, the classic standard that’s famous as an early example of Coltrane changes, and it was an impressive band: Andy Butler, Aidan Lowe, Reuben Lewis, Matt Handel, Tom Fell and Max Williams. Also interesting to me was the chance to try out Phill Jenkins’ bass. It’s got wonderful presence and decay but I struggled with the fat, heavy, rolling gut strings. Despite that, it was much enjoyed. Thanks to the band and Phill and to the Rivals.

The Rivals are Luke Sweeting (organ), Stuart King (guitar) and Hugh Deacon (drums) but for this gig they were joined by Reuben Lewis (trumpet) and Matt Handel (alto sax).

Ave Maria

Ave Maria is close enough. At least the first half was dedicated to Pope John Paul II’s particular devotion: Mary, mother of Jesus. And we were in the large reverberant space that is St Christopher’s (Catholic) Cathedral in Manuka to hear SCUNA’s concert for the run up to Easter. It was a wonderful presentation of some very beautiful sacred music.

We are a diverse and secular culture now (although our newer religions are often more strident in response) so it’s no surprise that most of the program was from a much earlier time. Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater was composed in 1736 to the words of a 13th Century Franciscan, Jacopone da Todi. Vivaldi’s Gloria (the well known one, RV 589) is from 1715. But there was one modern work: Górecki’s Totus Tuus. Polish Catholic Górecki wrote this for a visit of the Polish Pope, JPII, to his homeland in 1987. It’s an a capella work and was performed with the choir starting at the back of the cathedral and walking forward slowly to finish at the altar. It’s a simple work, simple lines moving together and with much repetition, but quite stunning in its holy minimalism. It was also interesting to hear the individual voices as they passed along the aisle: some strong, some less so. But in toto, a stunning work that was particularly popular on the night.

Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater followed. I know this from a Hyperion recording we have at home, sung by two voices, soprano and countertenor, and with 7 musicians (strings and continuo). The original was written for male soprano (not many of them these days) and male alto. I was wondering how SCUNA would perform it. This version was orchestrated for SATB choir with perhaps half of the 12 numbers sung by an individual voice or two voices in harmony. I missed the constant harmonies of the solo voices on the recorded version, but a choir has its own beauty and power. This was a large choir and easily filled the space although I’m not sure I caught all the harmonies, perhaps due to rich reverb. But the reverb particularly suited the solo voices. Tobias Cole was incredibly forceful and well controlled and he was theatrical as he has been every time I’ve seen him. Louse Page’s is not a voice to crack crystal. I hear her as more rich and dark which is probably more true to the original intent. I also noticed the very capable continuo that seemed to hold the musicians together. This was a beautiful and touching performance of delicate and somewhat courtly music with a dolorous theme. Lovely.

Last was Vivaldi’s Gloria. This is well known although not by me but I recognised a few passages. I heard this as more majestic and joyous than the dolorous Stabat Mater, although there are numbers here that also speak to the crucifixion. The instruments were expanded with trumpet and oboe for the satisfyingly baroque sound that I expected of Vivaldi. It amuses me how few words are in these pieces, but they are so beautifully arranged (and in obscure latin) that we hardly notice. What huge joy is in Gloria in Excelsis Deo and what deep historical resonance is in “You who takes aware the sins of the world, have mercy on us”. This is Christian liturgy at its most powerful and, faithful or not, you have to have a heart of stone not to be affected by the glory and power and history of it all.

Which reminds me of a visit to the Vatican museums. It’s a wonder how powerful and honest is the religious art of Catholic mediaeval Europe, but visit the Vatican’s museum of modern art and it’s weak and affected and strained. So it was with unexpected that I so enjoyed the Totus Tuus. A modern religious work that works. Surprising and satisfying. This was a wonderful concert in the lead up to Easter, whatever your beliefs or non-beliefs.

SCUNA (ANU Choral Society) presented Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater, Górecki’s Totus Tuus and Vivaldi’s Gloria at St Christopher’s Cathedral with Jonathon Powles (conductor), Anthony Smith (continuo), Louise Page (soprano) and Tobias Cole (countertenor).

Manuka night and day

Pronounce Manuka with the wrong accent and all Canberrans will recognise you as a visitor. Manuka is Canberra’s original upmarket nightspot even if it dates back only 90 years or so, and it can be pretty lively on pleasant evening. I was down there for SCUNA and dinner and was surprised to see bands sandwiching the concert at the local outdoor bar, Charlie Black. I didn’t stop to listen, but suffice to say the Funky Fedoras took the afternoon shift, and Groovilicious took the evening. On the day, the Funky Fedoras were Angela Lount (vocals), Dan McLean (trumpet), Paul dal Broi (piano), Phill Jenkins (bass) and Chris Thwaite (drums). Groovilicious were my dear Monica Moore (vocals), Hugh Le (guitar), Tim Power (bass), Scott Temby (keys) and Dave Sheville (drums). Here are just two pics.

Percolations

Gossips were Mike-less again for a private gig in Ainslie last night, and we were lucky enough to get Callum Stewart to sit in on keys. Most memorable for me were several sublime swings and a few solos but also the oleaginous, percolating synth sounds emanating from Callum’s Nord during our Hancock Chameleon. Nicely modern and a change from piano. Also a few interesting tunes I’d suggested but we didn’t manage to do: Windows, Jelly Roll, Inner urge, Lament and Never will I marry. Perhaps next time. Commonly enough, we dropped back to the normal repertoire but played well so all was OK. Thanks to Callum. Nicely played and much enjoyed.

Waves and spaces

The Concert Hall at the Sydney Opera House is a very big space and we were down the back and so the volume of the Sydney Symphony Orchestra playing Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony was feeble. I got used to it but earlier I noticed the loud passages were more like mfs to my (admittedly damaged) ears. I’d also listened to the symphony while driving to Sydney and was none too excited by it. Although I loved the orchestra, I remained underwhelmed by the music. It was described as the most energetic and most classical of Beethoven’s symphonies and whose “direct appeal lies in a single musical element: rhythm” (The voice of ecstasy : Edo conducts Beethoven [SSO program], 2011, p.8). I found the lines obvious and the rhythms nowhere near as interesting as a latin percussion section, but of course this is music of several hundred years ago and European classical music was never music of rhythm. I did like the second movement, but nothing unexpected there. It’s got a popular history and there’s a recognition factor (for example, it was used during the recent movie, The King’s Speech, during the feature speech, no less). Obviously others noticed that movement too, because there was a huge crescendo of chatter and shuffling after it finished, to the obvious frustration of conductor Edo de Waart. This was obviously not one with the otherwise formal approach (conductor is voiceless and disappears offstage between cheers). Despite these disappointments, the orchestra was a dream: sharp and clear and precise and together; not at all mechanical but very accurate. That I loved. The orchestra for the Beethoven was ~50 players (four bassists) and this just didn’t fill the space, but what we heard was wonderful. I picked up an SSO program for 2011 and I could see why: 100+ performances; ~50 staff; a Board of 12 and a Council of ~45; plenty of patrons/sponsors; large expenses and government funding; enough performances to require an index of soloists and composers. The professionalism certainly showed. This was beautifully performed music, even if I was somewhat nonplussed by the whole.

Samuel Barber’s famous and popular Adagio for Strings followed the interval. This is just that: strings. It’s a beautifully constructed, sparse melody that has popularity and recognition from films and funerals. I enjoyed it well enough, but was getting uncomfortable with shrill high strings by the end of the first part and was relieved when the basses entered for a more balanced sound. Then it ended. Seven minutes. Short, attractive and well received.

But in my eyes, the feature of the night was a fabulously delicate, minimalist but tonal modern work, Harmonium by John Adams. The orchestra for this was big, perhaps 100 players (8 basses) with a mixed choir of ~200. The piece started with the quietest of instrumental background that grew with immensely beautiful female voices in tonal and atonal harmony to a wave of sound that rolled over us. Then minimalist repetition and filigree-fine tones that moved within and without orchestra and interacted with voices of all pitches. So many tones and so delicately sounded: bells, harmonium, all manner of blown or bowed or plucked or percussed instruments. And wave after wave of sound that grew from the most discrete to swells that surged over the audience, tsunami-like, overwhelming, only to die away then resuscitate for another wave, all the while the mechanical beat of modern times less noticed but ever-present. I remember one bass-heavy passage with four double basses bowed and four other basses plucked and a voluminous tuba (?) singing sweetly above. The delicacy was like this throughout. A work of diaphanous tonal detail, swelling waves of sound and underlying mesmeric minimalism. I recognised this as a music that’s been taken on by big, heavily funded public events like Olympic opening ceremonies, but it hasn’t yet been usurped. This music is still powerful and speaking of modern concerns to modern ears. A wonderful and memorable experience.

As we left we got talking with an older, well-dressed, concert-going lady with a European accent. Her take was something like this: Beethoven is Beethoven, Barber was lovely, but there was a telling if reticent glee when she talked of the Adams. I felt very much in common company. The Sydney Symphony Orchestra and Sydney Philharmonia Choirs performed in the Concert Hall at the Sydney Opera House. They were conducted by Edo de Waart and performed Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony (Op.92, A major), Samuel Barber’s Adagio for Strings and John Adams’ Harmonium.

Who’s a pretty polly?

One or all of us. Andy Campbell sat in with Gossips for a gig at 1927 while Mike was hanging at the Casino. Thanks to Andy. Lots of fun to play with a fast, distorted guitar again after so many piano gigs, and especially to indulge in some lengthy solos. After all, why are we playing if not for the solos?

Your favourite circus ride

Tom Vincent came to the Loft last night bringing two offsiders on bass and drums from Holland. Last time I heard Tom was as support for Branford Marsalis at the Sydney Opera House. Nice company! Since then, he’s done a world tour and obviously met a bunch of collaborators in the places he’s visited. An opportunity arose to bring out one pair and this tour is a result. Tom is a quirky, obtuse player. He takes the standards repertoire from the 20s through Ellington and Monk and bop and Coltrane and turns them on their heads with modern, challenging, even extreme reformations. You hear the tune, but it’s contorted, disassembled and reconstructed with the most capricious of substitutions and cross times and melodies. It’s no lazy jaunt in the park, but it’s invigourating and intellectually and artistically challenging. This is not to say there’s not delicious swing or avid bop or soulful balladry. The thing is they are all there, perhaps all in one tune. And often in unexpectedly short tunes that are distillations of essence and of a richly informed but angular harmonic intelligence. It’s a masterful and exhilarating ride if sometimes bumpy. The trio’s name says it all: Morphic Resonance Project.

The band does all this by ear. Tom handed around a l-o-n-g list of tunes (three pages, several columns, very small print) and asked for requests. The whole band responded, no charts, no amplification, sometimes with a little hesitation after a singular lead-in. Naturally I watched Bart Tarenkeen, playing a borrowed bass and master of it. Lovely swings that were so solid and present despite no amplification, walking lines of real interest and solos that sang, sometimes with melody, sometimes freer, sometimes rapid, other times just beautiful, slowly stated melody. Strong, both in unamplified volume (from the right hand and arm that’s the secret of double bass tone) and in statement of the tune. And it was clear he knew these tunes - he dropped into several melody lines during the night. Superb playing. Marc Meeder was similarly swinging and lithe, with several short solos and mostly brushes for smooth swing. They both had to sit back at times to uncover Tom’s very individual interpretations. He toys with time and structure like a solo player would and this can bamboozle a band. But these guys had big ears, picking up to run or walk to the next angular contortion.

What a fabulous display of quirky brilliance! Sometimes loose, often obtuse, but nothing less than exhilarating and an intellectual treat. Like your favourite circus ride but more cerebral.

Tom Vincent (piano) led a trio with visiting Dutch musicians, Bart Tarenkeen (bass) and Marc Meeder (drums) as the Morphic Resonance Project at the Loft.

Cyberhalides Jazz Photos by Brian Stewart