Reschedules

It was an amusing string of rescheduled meetings that makes me miss some concerts and get to at least one other. What I did attend was a rehearsal with Ella Luhtasaari, David Pereira and Barbara Jane Gilby. It was a star cast, in daily work routine, rehearsing a Mozart Trio (K-whatever) and Brahms’ E-minor sonata. In fact, even this was in place of a concert I had expected to attend but which had been rescheduled. So I was playing it by ear.

I was playing by ear as I listened, too. The Mozart was delightful, lively, jovial, but also changeable with shards of passion that appeared amongst the merrymaking. It was interrupted for discussion to compare ideas on bar nn (“85’s a good bar”) or to talk interpretation. The audience was unexpected but welcomed. The players were comfortable enough – they were perfectly professional and at ease – but I felt at one stage we were forcing them to perform, rather than rehearse. So be it. The music was a delight. Barbara departed after the Mozart, and the David and Ella rehearsed the Brahms E-minor sonata. This was more profound, more complex, less playful, and this is where I noticed the musicians performing. Most of the audience had left by then, so it was just a few stayers. After the first movement, there were discussions on the balance of cello and piano. They raised the lid of the Steinway and it was suddenly much more clear, sharp, loud. David’s voluminous and toneful cello had overwhelmed the piano with the lid slightly opened, but the unlidded Steinway took on power and clarity that easily bettered the cello. I wondered which was the better option, but the performance was not to be in this room and that was also a factor. As a string payer, I luxuriated in David’s cello. Cello has a larger range than bass – it’s tuned in fifths, not fourths. It reaches to relatively high notes and down somewhere amongst bass notes. And it’s flexible and malleable and toneful. David’s a renowned master and his ease with bowing and the fingerboard was a delight. The same message went easily for Ella and Barbara. I enjoyed the ease of reading and the search for interpretation from all the players. Also Ella’s skills and increasing abandon on a few passages in the Brahms. And, of course, the powerful but precise sound of the Steinway unleashed.

To be included in the life of the ANU School of Music can be even better than a concert. What must it be like to live this life every day. Thanks from CJ. Ella Luhtasaari (piano), David Pereira (cello) and Barbara Jane Gilby (violin) rehearsed a Mozart Trio and Brahms’ E-minor sonata.

St(r)eamin'

I’m listening to the Faculty band on a stream as I write this: Giant steps, giant playing. I got in earlier for classical guitar players who I’d never previously come across. The School is renowned for its classical guitar component. But School Head, Adrian Walter, classical guitarist, is off to Hong Kong. Sign of more things to come. The classical guitarists had a mournful edge to their playing, I can understand given the event, but beautiful and insightful. Cold night, warm hearts, keep it up. The petition is at 17,553, has been growing steadily for days and continues. We are with you. Face the night. Luck to you all, the School and, for that matter, potentially bereft Canberra.

Amongst the bushes

Speaking in tongues is the theatrical show that became the film Lantana. Much to the disappointment of my wife, I’m not a great film-lover, but I was mightily impressed by Lantana when I saw it. For once, this was an Australian film with a decent script, set in modern Australia, with an intriguing and adult-oriented plot and that wasn’t merely visual.

A play has to be presented differently from a film. This was. It’s a complex plot, with scenes happening in various locations and ongoing unexpected crossings of path by the various couples making up the cast. The first part shows us two couples working through the outcome of one consummated and another unconsummated liaison. It’s cleverly portrayed with unison speeches that highlight predicaments in modern marriage. One couple works it out, the other’s less successful, and paths variously cross when couples negotiate and male and female partners meet in different bars and clubs. The second half sees three more couples: one broken relationship with a pining male and non-committing female; one pained with a wife damaged by a history of child abuse and who then goes missing; the husband of another relationship who is questioned for the murder of the woman who’s disappeared. It’s complex and convoluted and thematically rich. It plays with your expectations and presumptions and leaves topical matters undecided. It even leaves the ultimate resolution undecided, although by implication the plot resolution is clear. The core theme was trust in marriage but there’s more: how people love, how they communicate, rekindling passion, giving emotional support. It’s also noticable that all parties were essentially good-willed despite the affairs. And that they were muddling through, although often not a textbook fashion. It’s a plot of tortuous interactions that explores themes by action and dialogue rather than overt discussion, and I’m still mulling over that title. I also imagine it’s a play for mature audiences with years of marriage under their belts. That’s not to say younger audiences won’t understand it, but I doubt they would feel it quite the same way. A stimulating play and well pesented by Canberra Rep, our local amateur theatre society that is now in its 80th year! Congratulations and best wishes to our august theatre company.

Speaking is tongues was directed by Ross McGregor and featured Rob de Fries (Leon), Helen McFarlane (Sonja), Duncan Ley (Pete), Lainie Hart (Jane), Bridgette Black (Valerie), Eliza Bell (Sarah), Sam Hannan-Morrow (Nic), Raoul Craemer (Neil) and Zach Raffan (John).

The outreaches of downtown Manuka

Spartak is currently in season at the Canberra Contemporary Arts Space at Manuka and I got to last night’s gig. They are playing with a series of visitors. Last night’s was Londoner, Ollie Bown of Icarus, who is now resident in Melbourne.

For me, Spartak is always the outreaches of my sonic experience: minimalist digitally-effected guitar drones from Shoeb with percussive expression layered over the top from Evan. I joke with Megan about it (she prefers Beethoven) but I like it, even if my understanding is short. But then understanding it probably not what’s required with this music. Ollie added laptop convolutions of the live stage sounds that droned or pulsed or mutated to our ears. It was loud or delicate or percussive and always meditative. I heard authentic BBC Radiophonic Workshop (think Dr Who) at one stage and I also felt dense, deep power when I sat near a bass trap corner. I heard Evan’s richly interpretative drummer that just says training and craft to my ears. I heard Shoeb’s electronics and minimal, recurring, slightly mutating guitar chords, although Shoeb's and Ollie's drones often merged to my ears. I even heard some thinly present voice from Shoeb at one stage, although I may have missed it if I wasn’t looking. Experimental and free music of this style is always a walk on the wildside, but I’m refreshed by it and taught again to listen meditatively.

Even Manuka has its outreaches. The minimalism continued in the visual arts on display and the space. The art was mostly tiny and dwarfed, even in this small room; seating was minimal (actually, none) but I felt that suited the music; most sadly, the walls are bare and refective and so the sound was mushy and the drums sounded distant with reverb. All part of the challenge that is a walk in the wilds of Manuka.

Spartak performed one night of its Cue Funktion residency with Ollie Bown (laptop) of Icarus. Spartak are Shoed Ahmad (guitar, electronics) and Evan Dorrian (drums).

An autumn serenade

I was late, but it was a buzzing crowd at the CGS Gallery when I arrived during Liam Budge’s set break: confident, friendly and chatty. Somewhat like Liam himself.

Singers do have a way, they have a presence, and Liam has it strongly. He emotes every word, bending knees, moving about the stage with the rhythms, leading strongly as a front man and percussing in support with nonsense vocal sounds. There’s a lot of his mentor, Vince Jones, in his presentation, the overt emotion and the hands crossed behind his back. Not so much the politics. At least at this stage, his presence is more simply musical and, when he writes, more personally emotional. So he performed Bye bye blackbird, but richly rearranged by Luke Sweeting in 7/4, and Autumn serenade, again re-imagined. One original was of lost love, forever a topic of music and also of youth. But his covers weren’t just the old standards. There was a Tom Waits and also a funky George Michael in the mix. This was rich variety, of performers and styles and grooves and sounds. His basic support was a piano trio, Luke, Jordan, Henry, but he augmented that for various tunes with Joe on alto and/or Tom on trumpet. I melted with some of Luke’s solos, but that’s to be expected these days. He is immensely strong, varied in improv, easily consonant or otherwise, and the piano gives him the most orchestral of instruments to play with. Henry introduced one tune with an attractive solo of percussive gentility where I noticed the thuddy tones of a floor tom damped with jacket over skin that contrasted nicely with a mildly played but sharply tuned snare. Jordan took the opportunity of the Tom Waits tune to let go with a fluent bass solo, and we consoled each other later about the clumsiness of the lovely-sounding double bass against the fluency of the middly-toned but easily-spoken electric. Bass doublers have it tough. On another tune, I noticed some lovely unexpected harmonies from Tom on trumpet against Liam’s vocal lines, and lifting fills with Joe on alto. But the voice is closest to human expression in music, and Liam is an overt, emotional, attractive character on-stage and off. Male singers aren’t too common on the ground and Liam, with his presence and depth, has convinced me they have a place. This was a very nicely presented and emotionally rich performance form Liam and his capable offsiders.

I must also mention the venue. The Canberra Grammar School Gallery may be short on lighting but it’s a wonderfully comfortable and even indulgent space, with grand piano, nice wines on tap and art to peruse in the breaks. Currently on display is the Mortimore Prize touring exhibition of realist art works. It’s not a large exhibition, but there are some decent painting skills (and impressive prices) on display.

Liam Budge (vocals) led a band at the CGS Gallery with Luke Sweeting (piano), Jordan Tarento (bass) and Henry Rasmussen (drums) and Tom Sly (trumpet) and Joe McEvilly (alto) sitting in on various tunes.

Prog folk folk 2

Still at FrogFest, and I was to see Ben Hauptmann’s band, BOB, and Mr Fibby.

BOB was a totally different experience. Highly trained playing that was tight, richly improvised and ornamented and arresting in concept and in performance. It started with a subtle but mobile solo on keys from Damien, precise and understated, then into melodies that spoke of folk song and solos with long crescendos that built steadily and unerringly. Ben’s guitar is always honest and impressive, sharply toned and with a touch of banjo or country-hick influence. Julian entered on tenor for several melodies but I was surprised his solos seemed so few in number. Damien reappeared for solos, but I particularly liked his presence as organ bass and piano/organ accompaniment. I was particularly following Evan. I seldom have much to say about drummers, but I was dazzled by this display: rock solid and stable beats, singular grooves of deadened snare and toms or smashing cymbals. All the time with precision and delicacy and refreshing, committed fills. I heard this as a master class in rock drumming. BOB features Ben Hauptmann (guitar) with Julian Banks (tenor), Damien Slingsby (keys) and Evan Mannell (drums).

Last was Mr Fibby. I’d heard tell of the band, so I was interested to have a listen. How clever was this, and how different? Classically-trained instrumentals accompanying zany story telling with an Eastern European accent. I’m sure I caught some Bach amongst the Gypsy instrumentals. I certainly enjoyed the story-book references to ANU V-C Ian Young for his current threat to the School of Music. (He was not a welcome man at this event!) These were contorted and somewhat improvised stories with dreamy logic and fairy tale characters. And tones of violin, cello and acoustic guitar that were played with real skills and panache, despite the none-too-classically-perfect environment. This was serious theatrical fun with great wit and serious fine-music skills. Highly recommended. Mr Fibby are Zavi (aka Sam King, guitar), Rusalka Seraphina (aka Emma Jasmine Kelly, violin), Borracio (aka Spike Thompson, cello) and No Important (aka Adam Hadley, story teller).

Open letter to Senator the Hon Bob Carr, Minister for Foreign Affairs and Trade

Minister Bob Carr

I write to you about the international impact of changes to the ANU School of Music.

It’s not often that changes at a music school will have international effects, but I think this one does. By its presence in Canberra, the ANU School of Music provides excellent staff and students to the Canberra Symphony Orchestra, Duntroon band, events at Parliament House, Government House, the Lodge and at embassies, as well as supporting a range of local musical events and communities.

The proposed changes at the School of Music would remove numerous staff and downgrade the nature and quality of training. The result is that ANU would no longer attract students seeking performance excellence.

The essence of Canberra has long been its vibrant intellectual and cultural life, as well as its role as the centre of government. Canberra represents modern, intelligent, urban Australia as its national capital. It provides a contemporary alternative to Australia’s international stereotypes.

On the eve of Canberra’s centenary, and while all governments promote innovation and creativity as the basis of wealth in the new Century, will Canberra revert to culture-starved and orchestra-free Country Town status? Choices like this determine whether Australia’s reputation is as a vibrant, modern, creative country … or as a sheep dip and coal mine.

Please consider the implications of a culturally diminished national capital for Australia’s international reputation and its immediate reputation with the diplomatic community.

Eric Pozza
CanberraJazz.net
9 May 2012

cc Hon Simon Crean, MP, Minister for the Arts
cc Senator the Hon George Brandis, Shadow Minister for the Arts
cc Mr Gary Rake, Chief Executive, National Capital Authority

Prog folk folk 1

It was called FrogFest (from Folk and Prog[ressive]) and it caught my attention because Ben Hauptmann was playing with one of his bands, BOB. It’s an indie scene, so quite a change for CJ, but I’ve been dropping in to this scene a little recently and I find it intellectually satisfying even if the musical skills are not always to the level of jazz. But the best of it is intelligent and witty and does have impressive musical skills. It’s also a scene I enjoy: down to earth, diversely aged, welcoming and cheerful in a calm and slightly distant pubby way. And best of all, the women drink beer. It all happened at the White Eagle Club so the beer was Polish and the hall was nicely bedraggled but with a decent PA. All nice.

We caught three bands. The first was Cracked Actor. This is a guitar quartet with front line singer sounding to my ears in the style of Nirvana. Their songwriting wasn’t as memorable, but who can match it with Nirvana for a good hook? I heard it more as punk than folk, but definitions are pretty malleable in any modern scene. There were lots of rock beats and four to the floor bass lines and guitar chords in this music. I liked the singer’s voice but I wondered how anyone could play a bass slung so low. I felt uncomfortable with the overt intensity, but then I couldn’t catch the lyrics so maybe they were justified. Checking online, they are a Triple-J unearthed band in the style of squarepusher, Portishead and Radiohead. Cracked Actor are Sebastian Field (vocals, guitar), Nick Delatovic (bass), Jordan Rodgers (guitar) and Spike Thompson (drums).

More to come with BOB featuring Ben Hauptman and Mr Fibby…

Open letter to Katy Gallagher, MLA, Chief Minister of the ACT

Ms Gallagher

I write about the possible changes at the ANU School of Music. I’m sure you are aware of the changes that have been proposed. You may also be aware of the ardent campaign that is now running in the the community. The ANU is a national institution, and so is not under your control. However, I wish to highlight to you the dangers for the ACT of these changes. They don’t just change the situation at one university. They change the whole ACT community. Essentially, the remnants of the School of Music will no longer draw aspiring musicians to Canberra to study. The results of this are devastating to the culture and damaging to the people and business of Canberra. I borrow from Jenna Cave, ex-graduate and now a professional composer:

“Without the school of music functioning as a training ground for quality musicians and retaining its world class instrument tutors, the hub of music making in your town will be gone. There will be no Canberra Symphony Orchestra. There will be no inspired young music students and graduates to teach your children. There will be no one to play jazz at bars around town. There will be no string quarters or jazz bands for your weddings. And most importantly, there will be nowhere to inspire your children to imagine that they could one day study to become an amazing musician.”

I love Canberra for its intellectual and cultural scene which is beyond expectation for a city of this size. But now I picture an enfeebled culture. All Jenna’s predictions above, plus … Community groups, choirs, Canberra Concerto Orchestra, UC College of Music, Duntroon starved of musicians. Clubs and bars and tea rooms without talented and committed artists, with implications for business. Even embassies and national institutions starved of performers. What of Australia’s reputation with an orchestra-free capital? And what of Canberra’s reputation within Australia?

On the eve of our centenary, at the very time we are celebrating Canberra 100, will Canberra revert to culture-starved and orchestra-free Country Town status, that status we for which we are perpetually mocked?

Canberra is far better than this. I implore you to work with ANU V-C Ian Young to find a way to save this essential institution.

Eric Pozza
CanberraJazz.net

7 May 2012

Attachment: Open letter to ANU Vice-Chancellor Ian Young

cc. Joy Burch, MLA, ACT Minister for the Arts
cc. Caroline Le Couteur, MLA, ACT Greens spokesperson on the Arts
cc. Vicki Dunne, MLA, ACT Shadow Arts Minister
cc. Robyn Archer, Creative Director, Centenary of Canberra

Comping to clinking and clacking

There’s a regular migration to Hippo after the ANU Band Room gigs and I joined in this time. Andy Campbell was back from Sydney to play with Mark Sutton and a visiting Sydney bassist, Dave Groves. In the end, Matt Handel sat in on tenor sax. This is a chatty and clinking cocktail bar with clacking high heels so the jazz is partly ignored but also energetic and imposing. I only recognised Body and soul. If they were reading Andy’s originals, then I was impressed by the reading and the writing. I was there to catch Dave’s bass playing, and it was impressive. Good solid grooves with Mark but most interesting were his solos that were voiced in a sax-like idiom: fast and nicely fluid with call and response melodies and sequences and easy playing up into thumb positions. The others were no slouches of course. I was impressed by Andy’s increasingly identifiable musical personality, Matt is always a pleasure (even if I think I still prefer his alto) and Mark is just an established local master. Very nice and energetic playing all round. But as I write this, I’m thinking of the changes at the ANU School of Music. What did the Jazz school ever do for us? Well … this and more. Andy Campbell (guitar) led a quartet at Hippo with Matt Handel (tenor), Dave Groves (bass) and Mark Sutton (drums).

New York state of mind

Keith said to me it that Miles O’Connell’s music might have been recorded by Blue Note is it had a trumpet. I located it somewhere in the ‘70s, but maybe that’s just because that’s when I started listening to jazz. But it’s music you might hear today in the clubs in New York. I know that Miles was listening to at least some of this music when he was recently in NYC. He played one track from Kurt Rosenwinkel, who he’d caught several times, and who is a major influence for many current jazz students. Miles had told me that most of what he was playing was original and it was written during or after his NYC sojourn. So this is also where it’s at now; a modern style that’s spanning the decades. I hear it as busy grooves from bass and drums, slower melodies that float over chords that change slowly, perhaps every two or four bars, still the head/solos/head structure, and all players having a solo role, and usually a plangent tenor out front with guitar or piano accompaniment. But I guess that’s modern jazz in its major guise.

Miles did it well, both musically and in presentation. There was some nervousness, and the second set sat more comfortably than the first, even though Miles had told me that was the harder set. They’d settled by then. I appreciated Miles’ tone better, then. It was not so much forceful as sinuous, although hardening when emotions called for it. These were nicely developed solos with sparser starts and developing flourishes presented with an edgy distance that befits jazz seriousness. But there was also a nod to performance. I really liked the professionalism of the band introductions at the outro over an obviously planned, funky riff. Nice one! Also the way tunes merged with intervening solos and the way Miles maintained the flow by only speaking occasionally. Daniel fitted this image to a tee. He’s a performer with considerable presence, but also a developing rabid guitarist. His tone here was distorted but not sustained and it nicely displayed some intriguingly jagged lines. Max stated harmonies and pushed the groove and soloed comfortably. I particularly liked a solo intro in the second set that highlighted the tone of the Velvet strings, but I enjoyed his presence too. He’s an openhearted and involved player and a pleasure to watch and presumably to play with. Luke was steady and calm and slightly distant and that seemed apt when Miles noted he’d returned from a recent outing as a rock god. Andy sat in for just one tune that had him punching heavy quarter note block chords each side of a sweeter solo. Mostly the tunes were originals written during or after Miles’ NYC sojourn, but there was also Rosenwinkel and Radiohead, the intelligent pop choice of this generation. In all, an interesting and convincing concert with and some very decent modern jazz writing. Miles O’Connell (tenor sax) led a quartet with Daniel Kim (guitar), Max Alduca (bass) and Luke Keanan-Brown (drums). Andy Butler (piano) sat in for one tune.

Open letter to ANU Vice-Chancellor Ian Young

ANU V-C Ian Young

Please read this:

“Too much and too long, we seem to have surrendered community excellence and community values in the mere accumulation of material things. Our gross national product ... if we should judge America by that - counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for our doors and the jails for those who break them. It counts the destruction of our redwoods and the loss of our natural wonder in chaotic sprawl. It counts napalm and the cost of a nuclear warhead, and armored cars for police who fight riots in our streets. It counts Whitman's rifle and Speck's knife, and the television programs which glorify violence in order to sell toys to our children.

“Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education, or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages; the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage; neither our wisdom nor our learning; neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country; it measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile. And it tells us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans.”

Robert F. Kennedy Address, University of Kansas, 18 Mar 1968

These memorable words bring several thoughts to my mind. Obviously, that Americans can speak loftily. But more importantly, there are things that our economics do not recognise or value, and because we don’t count them, they are not cared for and ultimately can be lost. The environment as an “externality” is the most dangerous one, but the arts and humanities are others. We are all cogs in a wheel, and the wheel of rational economics has been rolling on for several decades. This is not all bad, for to recognise value and balance priorities is a necessary activity. But it’s only an activity for a greater good, and when we don’t identify our essential values correctly in its terms, we set ourselves up for loss. A great university is about more than just producing “human resources” (a.k.a. people) for the corporate world. It’s a humanist project to value and explore the best that we can be. Music is part of that. I don’t claim it’s all – the great jazz saxist, Wayne Shorter, said “If all you have is music, then you don't have music”. But we must have music. Thinking further, I remember who we value, who we make films of, and who appears in our historical record with approval. It’s the Gandhis, the Schindlers, the Martin Luther Kings. They take risks, they are brave, they go against the tide, but above all they stand for the things we recognise deeply as important. Manning Clark sits at the centre of your university’s life with some of your largest lecture theatres named after him. Borrowing from Manning’s Manichaen vision, I hope you can see clear to side with the enlargers rather than the straighteners. History, and current Canberrans, will view you well if you do. Otherwise, the devastation of music in Canberra is just another brick in a wall of corporatist darkness.

V-C Ian Young, please choose ANU to be great rather than merely instrumental.

Eric Pozza
CanberraJazz.net

This is CJBlog post no. 800.

Always celebrate

I mentioned our International Jazz Day in a recent post but I didn’t expect to mention World Intellectual Property Day here. I work at IP Australia and I was surprised to find Dirk Zeylmans entertaining staff at our Great Inventors Barbeque. I shouldn’t be surprised because Dirk pops up frequently around Canberra. This time he was playing standards in a drumless trio with ANU students Jordan Tarento and Chris Vanderweel. As well as the band, there were demonstrations by inventors of windmill pumps and mango peelers and stubby-holder gloves and more and presentations and awards from our senior managers. It’s modern corporate practice to celebrate achievements and it’s a pleasant way to catch up with fellow workers who you don’t see every day. It’s also a good way for the organisation to put out a message, in this case innovation (IP Australia is the Australian regulatory body for patents, trade marks, designs and plant breeder’s rights). I noticed several people with journalist pens and pads and video cameras and audio recorders. And I'm sure it was Lyn Mills (who also pops up frequently around Canberra) who was photographing for the Canberra Times social pages. Dirk Zeylmans (tenor) played standards with Jordan Tarento (bass) and Chris Vanderweel (guitar).

Our beating heart

For me, the essence of Canberra has been its intellectual and artistic life. This is not a big town but we’ve been blessed with the jazz I’ve written about over recent years, our local Orchestra, our International Music Festival and the rest. But were it not for the ANU School of Music, we would have few of these. The ANUSM is the beating heart that makes our musical life happen in Canberra. So I despair of today’s announcement that the Music School is downsizing, introducing a range of innovations (what a loaded word that is!), like “real-time, video-linked lessons”, a Professional Development Allowance (with the requisite acronym, PDA) to allocate to “specialist one-to-one tuition … summer course … master class … conference … learning a new piece of music software” (the work of an evening of two), and training in “skills needed across a range of music jobs”. I don’t wish to judge the ANU and I don’t have the information to make a judgement. Management can be a lonely path (but it can also be ideological and blinkered). I’ve heard of small student loads in some classical instruments and one-on-one must be expensive (but it’s the essence of musical training). Perhaps something needs to be done. And I fear that Canberra has been living off cross-subsidies from the ANU, at least our meagrely-funded CSO. But as I sit here and take this in, I wonder what the future will be in Canberra with a donwnscaled music school. Our musical heart is missing beats. The community may have saved the Fitters’ Workshop (for its limited musical uses), but there may be noone to perform in it.

What maturity means

Alex Boneham said to me it’s like the music you learn at the Con but then seldom perform in public.

Andrew Dickeson led a quintet at the Gods and it was furious post-bop and beautiful ballads and down-home blues and it’s something any modern jazzer loves. But it was also the sheer skills that hit me this night. The very first bar had me in awe. It was sharp, precise, relaxed but laden with energy that was always about to explode. It’s a great skill: precision and power that sits and promises, even seduces, and clearly has energy sitting in reserve, even while the notes are scrolling by in sixteenths and the ideas are flowing freely. Then I heard a line from Warwick that I thought just sat so right and I realised there are perfect lines for certain combinations of chords and melodies and tempos. It’s no surprise, really, given the importance of transcription for advanced students, but it’s not obvious when we talk of improvisation as the basis for jazz. And then I noticed these perfect snippets all over the place. Warwick has a library of them. James and Steve had plenty of their own. The blues is replete with them. We call some of them “licks”, but there are others, too: perfect statements that ring true to our unconscious listening history. The music was not pretentious, not original compositions although there were original arrangements. They were reading, but you might not know it from the ease of the unison melodies. The band played standards but they were not common ones: Here and now, Never let me go, Ill wind, I’m a weaver of dreams, Embraceable you was common. Some tunes were features for the frontliners: Billie Holiday’s I’ll be seeing you was a feature for Warwick so James sat out; Embraceable you was a guitar trio with James. There were some blues: Freddie Hubbard’s Byrd-like and Carl Perkin’s hard-bopper Carl’s blues. The song is you was arranged by Andrew with odd staccatos that challenged the readers. It surfaced a few chuckles from Alex and smiles from Steve. The old hands up front were mostly phlegmatic but even they looked around with discrete smiles at times. There were some devastating solos from the masters. James reached to the top frets and was mostly above the first octave, but could fall away with clanking frets right down the neck, all within lines of furious speed and unending length. Warwick also played those long, fast lines, although I thought more scalar against James’ pentatonics. I remember his plays on scales where he started with, say, a third that then fell away, then a fourth, then a fifth, and so on. Get an idea and execute it, exercise-like, maintain it, explore and twist it. I was drooling at how much playing and practice was on display. Andrew was leading from the drum stool with a distant grin of concentration. He’s mainstream to my ears and so precise, driving from behind or laying solos that spell out melody in rolls and rudiments, quite loud and spot on. I heard Steve as less explosive than Warwick or James, playing tenor-style sustained eighth notes with rising and falling lines and neat bop-triplet fills in solos and pianistic colour in comping. Alex is a young master to my ears. His intonation was impressive despite (maybe because of) squirming like Charlie Haden, his solos were thoughtful - slow and intervallic or minimalistic and arpeggiated - and his tone was firm and edgy and to die for.

So, what to make of all this? Mature and classy and unpretentious but with some devastating, world-class skills. More than I could have hoped for. Andrew Dickeson (drums) led a quintet with Warwick Alder (trumpet), James Muller (guitar), Steve Barry (piano) and Alex Boneham (bass) at the Gods.