Testers

Then band no. 2, Greg Stott's Test Pilots.  Very different even if one tune harked to Jamaican guitarist Ernest Ranglin and thus perhaps a hint at the Swamp jazz.  But no, this was different.  A mix of two generations, the senior partners up front and the rhythm section, a piano trio, behind.  Not that the front line took all.  The music was, in some ways, defined by the intense funky, loud and immensely driving grooves.  That is until a guitar took off with its own drive, meaning distortion, hot and loud and fast and indulgent.  Nothing like Greg at the National Press Club and so, so, so much fun.  I could drool over the sweeps, that signature of Canberra's own US guitar hero, Frank Gambale.  Greg was all over it.  And John, of course, always a master.  I found his solos more clear and easier to follow in this groove context.  I remember just how one simple rising arpeggio run followed by a scalar return took my breath away, as obvious a thing as it seems.  But the youngsters got their time in the headlights, too.  No slouches.  Jamie on Rhodes was a melodic but also rhythmically intense soloist, then I admired a spot where he sat out for variation and clarity.  That's mature.  And Haris, all rhythms and octaves on the chord notes surprised with a busily melodic final solo, and Peter, replacing Nic McBride no less, all concentration and sharp funky intensity, blew us out with several short filler solos then a final blow of concentration and momentum towards the end.  Greg led it all and introduced it all.  First up a medley in honour of recently deceased Jeff Beck, Mingus Goodbye porkpie hat leading into 'Cos we ended as lovers.  Those immense strained guitar tones boded well.  Then into three Greg originals, all grooves and complex melodic passages, Cipher, Alea iacta est (the tune in honour of Earnest Ranglin) and Blood nut.  Then Peter Gabriel Don't give up, for its play on timing, and Fuego, another Greg original and base for a final blow for all, a swinger with walking bass over rock drum line.  By this time I was chuckling with the daring and excitement of it all.  What a blast.

Greg Stott's Test Pilots played at Smiths and comprised Greg Stott (guitar), John Mackey (tenor), Jamie Rea (Rhodes), Haris Hodzic (bass) and Peter Campion (drums).

Elastics

The name was a little odd and to some degree so was the music.  Richard suggested Swamp jazz for a style.  And this mix of guitars and violin made for memories of Mahavishnu from tone if not from style.  Two crisp guitars, again of quite different sound and style.  Lachlan was hard and sharp, uneffected, with short bends suggesting heavy strings.  Dylan played lighter, fingers gentle and delicate and with softer tone, perhaps reverb, or chorus given his Roland jazz chorus amp.  Then that unusual instrument for jazz or later styles, the violin.  That was spacious with reverb and tight and fast with chops.  We wondered why there's not more violin in modern musics.   It's a great tone and there are tons of well trained players if not necessarily players with understanding of the styles.  Certainly El has solo chops but also an awareness of the context and accompaniment.  Lovely.  Arpeggiated sequences and scalar flourishes and all manner of bowed effects were common, but also tenderness as in her lullaby composition.  As for the back line, as a bassist I much admire Chris, his aptness and ease along with fierce chops when that's called on and that insistent while soft tone, and Gus on drums was tight and expressive.   We heard several guitarist tunes, from John Abercrombie and Pat Metheny, and a few originals, demanding or relaxed, always played with respect and understanding.  And this is just the opening band for the night?  Looking good.

Elastic Molasses comprised  Lachlan Coventry and Dylan Slater (guitars), Llewellyn Osborne (violin), Chris Pound (bass) and Gus Henderson (drums).  EM played at Smiths.

Mics

Now this is an indulgence, but it might interest someone out there.  I've been playing with recording for some time now, stereo recording in the field of bands and small classical groups, then multitracks for my own recordings (mostly midi but some audio for vocals) and recently multitrack mix/mastering using stems from live shows.  Over time, you collect mics, in my case none too dear, but I wondered about the difference between my vocal mics.  Thus I recorded my voice at one time to four mics on four separate tracks: Rode NT1, MXL 2001, Audio Technica AT2020 (large diaphragm cardioid condensers) and for interest, Shure SM58 (cardioid dynamic).  The result?  The three condensers sounded surprisingly similar and the SM58 was obviously different.  Sound on Sound gives good reviews for all these mics, so they are all good (and good value).  I don't have the best ears or the best room acoustics and it was a pretty cursory test, but nonetheless an interesting result.

Pics

Viewfinder is (for a few more days) an exhibition of photos from the collection of the National Library at the NLA.  It's subtitled photography from the 1970s to now, but I strangely found it a bit unrelatable.  I shouldn't given it is my era.  It's only ~150 pics but even so I was surprised that I recognised so few.  Perhaps because they were seldom (if ever?) by photojournalists. What do I remember?  A Tracey Moffat self portrait; a few of the environment and animals and the bush; Sylvania Waters (to suffer early from rising oceans?); Catholic and Anglican cemeteries; just a few pollies (Whitlam, Hawke and Howard); interestingly, some workers from when we had secondary industries (very casually dressed, somewhat pre-OH&S); something of youth cultures (hippies, sharpies and surfers); some old streets and buildings and the like.  I was totally dumbfounded once or twice.  The middle room at the underground dwelling at Kings Cross was something totally unknown to me; homelessness of the period, I guess.  A few pics.  You can see the exhibition online by working your way through the catalogue entries.

Viewfinder : photography from the 1970s to now was an exhibition at the National Library of Australia.

Viewfinder checklist (links to catalogue entries and images)

A busy room

The Evans Room took me back to energetic, adventurous piano trio of well back.  They played Bud Powell and that was one indication, but also Ida Lupino and Mike Manieri and Blues in the closet was their feature tune to end with a few more meditative originals in between.  This was not one for too much rumination, although the playing was great and deserved the musician's ear for the chromatics and more, but the energy just drove it.  Nicely stuctured lines, frequently moving chromatically in single note runs or often in chords, plenty of chordal solos, or doubling the excitement level of single note lines to 16th notes, long runs of each, drums highlighting features while the band plays stops and starts.  Lovely stuff'; tons of energy and busy intent.  A few drum solos, spelling patterns and time and melody and frequent bass solos, on most tunes, more reticent at first, but extended into the thumb positions and then quicker with sequenced phrasings, neat, expressive, nicely done.  It's no surprise that Jack has been accepted to pursue Honours bass, was it at Melbourne's VCA or Con.  This is very much the driving piano trio style with chops and plenty of swing.  A good fun outing.

Evans Room comprised Adam Davidson (piano), Jack Smythe (bass) and Hugh Magri-Bull (drums) and played at Smiths Alternative.

Femmes

The exhibition is called Feared and Revered and it's subtitled Feminine power through the ages.  It's also a joint project of the British Museum  and our NMA and thus has a string of ancient works that we tend not to see here, back to 2,800BCE.  Nothing that I noticed of our own items back to 60,000 years ago, although there were some modern takes on that history.   I tend to drool over the classical items, Egypt, Greece, Rome, predictable and Euro-centric as it is.  I am Euro extraction, after all.  There were various items from India, China, Africa and more and these were similarly awe-inspiring, but somewhat newer to me and perhaps us.  Not that I had the impression that any of these works were the real biggies that you see in London, but impressive none-the-less.  I'm on hols so just glancing through the captions, but I was somewhat befuddled, too, by the overall theme.  Feminine power and "its profound influence through the ages".  I can obviously see the reproductive power, but "ferocious, beautiful, creative, hell-bent" sounds like real power, not lack of, and that seems to poorly fit the arguments of contemporary feminism.  The Virgin Mary may be a reproductive power but is this social power in its own right?  The Kylie dress was fun but an insight on feminism?  One modern work amused me, a square stone block basically with a big hole located near the prehistoric female figures.  And the statues flashing vulvas from Irish and English churches?  New to me but female power?  Alternatively, a modern colourful print implying all comes from reproduction seemed immensely satisfying and feminist.  But these are just thoughts as I perused none too seriously on the day.  But I loved some of the works, a beautiful ivory (?) mediaeval Madonna and child and a Roman Venus.  Worth the visit and much more application than I could give it on this lazy January day.

Feared and Revered:  Feminine power through the ages is on display at the National Museum of Australia.

Out, Level 10

Perhaps a first, a start with solo vocals with Australian bush vocalisations, then drums, soft with mallets and percussion, sticks drawn over skins.  Then vocals changing to grunts and animal sounds.  I remember Ren Walters now, as guitar sounds, drums getting busier, more intense, still mallets, percussion more varied cymbals struck, moody with alto stabs of square intervals, then into flourishes, and bowed cymbal drones, relaxing now, gongs, light cymbals, quieter, still, repeating notes at intervals, sax more pensive, then drums turning to sticks, sharper still, busy, all drums if damped with cloths, guitar sitting back, listening, then all listen on and off, that voice, rabid again with tones of ... what?  Dunno, but busy.  Guitar hints at staccato scales, then slow chords, flattened extensions.  Then open space with those consistent, insistent drums, cymbals edged, suddenly all dirty, simple, loud, slow, that guitar again.  And so it goes on.  Experimental.  Free.  Not always atonal but often enough, but there's ears here, space, animation, variation, quiet or delirium, then that voice again.  And so it continues.  Thinking, glad I didn't bring Megan to this one!  First set was a single improv, then a second set with a break and a shortie.  Interestingly, comprehensible vocals appeared toward the end "I said to Joy / what is your name / since where today / Joy answered me / my name is death delayed / so I made her stay".  Heavy with meaning not just music.  I was overwhelmed by some of the playing.  Drums were overwhelmingly delicate despite intensity (long practice!) and voice was all over with tones and pitch and alacrity (a passage of Japan-like tones in odd scalar 8th note runs floored me) and sax was tenor and alto and soprano and I think sopranino and I loved how standard voicings and intervals and phrasings would appear, although complex and altered, amongst intense flourishes of colour and guitar was sparse then singled noted then colour chorded, only appearing more prominently with volume pedal towards then end (these are good listeners) and percussion added colour but also purpose, as Dur-é spoke to us of the Voice referendum to introduce set 2.  Not a show for the faint-hearted, but intense and authentic and personal.  Hard but enjoyed.

GAIP (General Assembly of Interested Parties) were Dur-é Dara (percussion), Jenny Ruth Barnes (voice), Scott McConnachie (soprano, alto, tenor, sopranino), Ren Walters (guitar) with visiting (Berlin) expatriate Samuel Hall (drums, percussion).  They performed for the Melbourne Jazz Cooperative at Jazzlab.

Transports

It wasn't particularly jazzy, just an afternoon pub gig across the road from Flinders Street Station in the Transport Public Bar, all modern and open with birds flying through louvres, but the band was seriously satisfying.  A trio of singer, guitar and percussion, advertised as jazz and playing some funky jazz takes on standards, but also a string of R&B/soul songs.  And they carried if off so well.  Georga (soft -g-) Byrne was the main singer and she was fluid and expressive and a lively, jovial host too (I was still awaiting the request Nutbush... when we had to leave). She was supported with occasional harmonies and a few solo vocal songs by percussionist Luke who otherwise played a digital cajon and shakers: effective percussion and a very decent and apt voice.  And new father Mikey Chan was on guitar.  Megan was wondering about the bass lines at one stage and I confidently said they were thumb picked, just to be a little dumbfounded later.  They were thumb-picked, but more complex than I'd imagined.  He dropped E and A strings one octave and played with Joe Pass influences.  The effectiveness of his chordal playing, sharp, punctuated, precise, defined the tunes with huge solidity so eight or so bars of solo sat unimpeded and easily grooving.  This was mightily solid grooves from such a combination.  And the tunes fitted, from Ain't no sunshine and Summertime and Dock of the bay, all funky and grooved, through Fleetwood Mac and Stevie Wonder and Amy W's Valerie and some obscurities (at least for me) like The Weeknd.  Even Beautiful love got a funky take.  So, I liked this trio, great music, lively day, decent beers and some very funky grooves that had a few up dancing and my foot tapping.  BTW, apparently Mikey is musical director for soul singer Kaiit: a good rec.

Georga Byrne (vocals) led her trio with Luke (percussion, vocals) and Mikey Chan (guitar) at the Transport Public Bar in Federation Square, Melbourne.

Today, so it seems

I remember passing the Maton factory then visiting a historical artist colony in Melbourne and roaming about the buildings and coming on a coffin in a chapel (creepy) then ... a room full of people and cameras for the making of a film.  It was perhaps the late-70s.  Good story and its etched in my brain.  So we were off to the Heidi Gallery and I thought it would be that place but no.  Heidi was the home of John and Sunday Reid and a centre for some artists of their era but nothing like the place I remembered.  That was stone (or mud brick?) Monsalvat, also out of Melbourne and somewhat in the same general vicinity, but not a weatherboard residence with no later modernist concrete structure.  And a lovely garden.  So how was Heidi Gallery?  Modernist.  There was an exhibition of works by English female colleague of Henry Moore and doing similar things, Barbara Hepworth.  Mostly stones with holes and perhaps rafts of wires, but also at least one figure.  Then upstairs to paintings of Moira McKenna interspersed with Albert Tucker.  I mostly ignore the Untitled(s) from any artist (if they can't suggest their intent, why should I bother?) but there were some with interesting themes.  AT with St Anthony tormented in the desert and MMcK with a pair of Eine Kleine Nachtmusik and another set in the same location, and yet another with the same upswept-hair woman reappearing.  Then another space with living artists.  One which stunned was a pair of gory photographs of bleeding skin, one cut for each Aboriginal death in custody.  Another featuring holes: cut into photos or burnt into paper or stamped into a big (1.5m?) silver-metal seed pod.  My guess it's a sibling of the huge holed ball outside the Art Gallery of South Australia (and the work promised for outside the NGA?).  These holey items were paired with a 1975 Paris Biennale event, filmed as Conical intersect (see YouTube) where a cone was cut into a C17th townhouse complex due for destruction for the building of the Pompidou Centre.  Then on through the gardens, to the house and some more works.  Thus contemporary arts at Heidi Modern Art Gallery.

Barbara Hepworth and others were on display at the Heidi Gallery of Modern Art in Melbourne.

PS.  Monsalvat was the location for a string of films/series including several in the late-70s.

Dress

I am no fashion plate but I had a tailor father and I've come to admire good dress so we visited the National Gallery of Victoria for an exhibition of the work of Alexander McQueen and I was entranced. I enjoyed it immensely. He was obviously a madly talented person given he was head of a Paris fashion house two years after completing his training in England. Also openly gay and with mental health problems, short lived (died aged 41 in 2010), outspoken on politics, well read in history, inspired by diverse cultures, channelling classical through to modern arts. This was an interesting person and probably driven. We saw his works next to his inspirations in Greek and Roman statues, mediaeval religious paintings, Spanish and Indian prints, Scottish history, even disco events. All works inspired by and evidencing his wide and intriguing interests, and hugely varied. I was inspired and thrilled: one daggy male amongst many more informed dressers. I could have been embarrassed but rather I was intrigued and overwhelmed with the mix of skills and beauty and art, not to mention humour, of it all. I still hold a hangover hippy distrust of dress but it's mixed with awe and respect for the art so I remain a little confused. But I loved this exhibition and was in awe of his craft. Lovely stuff.

Myth Magic Muse is an exhibition of the work of Alexander McQueen at the National Gallery of Victoria until 16 April.

Spa plus

Just back from a family Christmas get-together in Daylesford.  It's a cute town, said to be the lesbian capital of Australia.  I saw several couples but then we returned through a similar small country tourist town and ate at a gay-run hotel with a trans receptionist, so what's to tell?  I think of Daylesford for mineral spas and organ concerts.  We got to both, or at least a connection to each (the sulphur water was the preferred spring although still undrinkable to our tastes, and we met two women who'd married [to husbands] at the Uniting Church with the organ) but the intent was really Christmas and family and friends.   The first night was to the beer garden at the Daylesford pub and I just caught a local jazz trio while ordering.  This was Vida jazz, playing around town for "your venue or special occasion".  Could not but feel comfy with a local working band.  I just heard a few tunes, standards and latins, of course, but also a string of pop and blues, done in style, Light my fire and Beatles and the like.  The band had a groove with no drummer, just Vida singing and Bruce bass and Bronwen keys.  Nice for a welcoming front bar experience on a Friday evening. 

Vida Jazz were Vida Petrini (vocals), Bruce Miller (bass) and Bronwen Algate (keys).  They played at the Daylesford Hotel front bar.

Visiting Paris

Paris comes to a backyard near you.  Aussie bassist Leigh Barker grew up in this house and performed a garden concert for friends of the family.  Leigh has ventured to Melbourne then to Paris with his singer/violinist partner Heather Stewart and they now have two young Parisians to fill the family but he still comes home every so often and plays tours and clubs and backyards and the like.  This time they'd also recorded in Melbourne.  I got to the backyard gig and it was something special, like our own jazz club with sun.  The day was good and the deck was new and stage-like and rang with taps and the piano could be rolled straight out into the open.  Leigh and Heather had Matt Boden from Hobart and Dan McLean from Michelago.  No drums, but the pulse was strong, the bass certain and voluble with the expansive piano and forthright trumpet.   There were plenty of quips and gasps and whoops shared in this style and the humour was skin deep but articulate and the groove was ever-present.   This is early jazz and not something I chase but a huge pleasure when done like this.  I was all tapping toes, as I should be.  Heather explained her new Guanieri-like violin's subtleties (essentially the Strad/Guanieri dichotomy but to all, I guess, it was pretty much unnoticeable without the two together) but the slides and delicacy were what mattered and her voice, so perfect for the era, just rang so, so true.  I think of Paris as a comfortable home for early styles (but not just: I heard Hadrien Féraud there and he's no slouch and nothing at all early).  They played WC Handy and Ellington and Fats Waller and Jelly Roll and Gershwin and even Rudi Valli and just one original, a dedication to a friend, Adriana, by Heather.  Not just another club gig but a bundle of joy of great musical skills and a huge pleasure.  Thanks to Leigh and Heather and Matt and Dan.

Leigh Barker (bass) led a quartet with Heather Stewart (vocals, violin), Matt Boden (piano) and Dan McLean (trumpet) in a backyard in Hughes.

Market Sundays

I was on a mission to the Fyshwick markets on a Sunday and mooched over when I heard music in one corner.  It was Sally Davis singing worthy singer-songwriter fare, not least Amy Winehouse and Florence and the Machine.  Danceable and intriguing music, not least for a string of little kids who gathered with their mums.  Mostly, it was the business of shopping for others, so despite a cosy corner with seating, we were few.  I left soon enough, but enjoyed the encounter.  I enjoy the market well enough, but thanks to Sally for a more artful visit.

Sally Davis (guitar, vocals) performed at Fyshwick Market.

Coincidences

The National Press Club is my go-to on a quiet Friday evening when I want a short outing with beer and some entertainment.  It's local and easy parking and a happy half-hour to boot, let alone some of the best local players, even if the playing tends to kept fairly tame in this context.  This night Mereki Leten and Michael Larsen-Collins were playing.  Not a pair I knew but they were described as a "up-and-coming sax and guitar duo" so all sounded good.  I enjoyed them with capable playing of standards and latins and the like from their differently keyed iGigbooks on the music stand.  Mereki had some flourishes that hinted at considerable chops and I loved how she played conterpoint to several of Michael's solos.  And Michael's solos and chordal backings were worthy outings; not surprising from an obviously serious student of Greg Stott.  For some audience involvement, I requested Alone together and they didn't know it but they did a very decent read.  Then chatting, I realised Mereki was the female saxist that my band, Tilt, had got in for a gig a few weeks before when I was out of town (with bassist Barney Briggs).  I felt there was due respect all round for that outing.  So, some names I didn't know until now, but surprisingly close to home.

Mereki Leten (soprano sax, flute) and Michael Larsen-Collins (guitar) played at the National Press Club.

Convolutions

I read of Handel's late baroque opera, Alcina, being performed at Llewellyn in the Saturday Canberra Times just in the morning.  It was the second of two performances and I was free and it's not often we can see serious opera in Canberra.  So the ticket.  It immediately followed a long jazz gig so it was a rush but I got there.  The audience wasn't large and that was sad.  This is an attempt to create a serious opera company in the national capital.  It's an expensive process and they need support if it is to happen.  I checked Alcina on Spotify: 3hr 23min.  Mmm, that's a call.  In the end, this was a sparse stage with mostly just a small company lasting 3hr including an interval.  So it was a challenging outing but it quite lovely.  This is opera seria of 1735 with a chequered history: debuted then not performed for ~200 years then a feature for Joan Sutherland and Cecilia Bartoli and others.  I think it was also the first time I've seen musicians in a "pit" at Llewellyn.  Not a true  pit, perhaps, but  replacing the first rows of normal seating.  This was not Aida or the like.  the music is very different and the lyrics are totally sung.  It started with an overture then mostly short scenic numbers with exploratory notes projected above to explain the complex story of Queen Alcina, sorceress, and sister Morgana and heroic knight Ruggiero and his fiancée Bradamante and various loves and affairs and spells and magic rings and Oberto and his missing father.  I read that it was derived from Orlando Furioso.  The libretto was from Italian Antonia Fanzaglia (Wikipedia says the original was from Roberto Broschi).  I could pick the Italian occasionally when I listened carefully, but mostly I just took in the music of it all. Sung opera is not easy to understand at the best of times.  I enjoyed the whole, and it was a long whole.  The music is delightful, being of that hugely attractive era, and nicely played by ~25 members of the Canberra Symphony Orchestra.  The singing is in the same style, of course, melodic and expressive and richly embellished with scalar extrapolations.  Handel also included some dance sequences so 6 dancers also featured. But mostly the stage was fairly bare with 2 or 3 or 4 central characters singing their story.  I was a little discombobulated by the voices.  Ruggiero was counter tenor and cross-dressed fiancée Bradamante was sung by someone from the side.  And missing father's son, Oberto, was played by a woman.  It suits the time.   And interestingly, there were six dancers for several musical sequences.  It was a long session and I'd gigged that afternoon and rushed to it, but I was glad I attended.  Baroque opera performed with serious intent and worthy quality.  Best of luck to the National Opera.  And to finish, some delicate quotes from the descriptive projections: "One moment's happiness turns all true lovers' tears to joy";"Enduring love and compassion will help bring back happiness after so much suffering".

Handel Alcina was presented by the National Opera at Llewellyn Hall.