NYC Winter JazzFest 2010: Sustaining the Future

by Sharonne Cohen

An infectious wave of energy blew through the NYC jazz scene on January 8th and 9th as the sixth edition of Winter JazzFest hit a two-block radius in the West Village. The festival has continued to expand and evolve since its inception in 2005, transforming into a well-attended, much anticipated off-season jazz extravaganza. Coinciding with the JJA (Jazz Journalists Association) and APAP (Association of Performing Arts Presenters) conferences, the festival showcased 250 musicians playing in 55 bands. Showcased through abbreviated 40-minute sets, these artists offered more than a glimpse of contemporary jazz in its myriad facets and wide-ranging influences.

Artists as diverse as Dr. Lonnie Smith, the 28 year-old drum phenom Mark Guiliana and the much-buzzed-about Vijay Iyer Trio packed all 5 performance spaces as a steggering total of 4,000 people - musicians, jazz heads, presenters, producers, managers and agents - roamed from venue to venue, maintaining sunny dispositions despite having to wait in line in frigid temperatures. The five venues (Le Poisson Rouge, The Zinc Bar, Kenny's Castaways, Sullivan Hall and The Bitter End) were filled to capacity throughout the festival's two nights, making wandering between shows somewhat difficult; once you were inside, you didn't really want to leave for fear of not being able to get back in, but there was that other thing happening at the club next door, a real predicament which, given the festival's steady growth, might need to be addressed by the festival's founder and producer, Brice Rosenbloom of boom BOOM Presents, in preparation for next year's edition.

The festival's program, packed with overlapping shows, required careful planning of my itinerary. My journey began at 6:20 Friday evening at Le Poisson Rouge, with Vancouverite Darcy James Argue's Secret Society. I'd been waiting to hear the big band live since the release of Infernal Machines; it was a good omen for things to come, the band showcasing Argue's progressive, multi-layered writing, horns shining in particular. Next up was bassist Ben Williams, winner of the 2009 Monk Competition and member of Stefon Harris' Blackout, playing at the small, overly-packed Zinc Bar, where sound issues diminished our capacity to appreciate this virtuosic young bass player. Williams and his Sound Effect, consisting of Jamire Williams on drums, Jaleel Shaw on alto and Dave Bryant on keys, played a bebop, pop and hip-hop-infused set with material ranging from Buster Williams' Christina to the lesser-known Michael Jackson tune Little Suzie. The Chelsea Baratz Quartet was up next at the Zinc, offering a somewhat watered-down set, pianist Orrin Evans and trumpeter Corey Wilkes gleaming with flashes of imagination. Mid-set I rushed back to Le Poisson Rouge, just in time to catch pianist Eric Lewis play Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit, followed by Evanescence's chart-topper Going Under. Lewis, hammering the piano with the thrust of his entire body, was thrilled to have the oppurtunity to "treat the piano like a rock guitar", as he put it. "Feel that! Rock jazz! You heard it here first!" he exclaimed. Going straight into It Don't Mean a Thing, Lewis reminded the audience he'd played with the likes of Elvin Jones, Roy Hargrove and Cassandra Wilson, too.

Nicholas Payton's SeXXXtet left me wanting (and wondering why he was singing). I headed across the street to Kenny's Castaways to bask in the good vibes of the quirky, high-spirited Matt Wilson Quartet. Coating virtuosity with a layer of light-hearted merriment, Wilson, donned in a leopard-skin skirt and long black wig, matched his signature playfulness with an abundance of creativity, propelling his strong sense of history into the future. I stayed put for drummer Bobby Previte's New Bump Quartet with bassist Brad Jones and saxophonist Ellery Eskelin, Bill Ware's digitized vibraphone enhancing the electrifying overall effect, and Matt Wilson joining on snare drum towards the end of the set. Round midnight, when I thought I could hear no more, I surrendered to Mark Guiliana's Beat Music, listening from the crammed balcony as guitarists Nir Felder and Aaron Dugan played around Guiliana's beat-driven grooves, appearing on an upcoming album co-produced by Meshell Ndegeocello.

The second night of Winter JazzFest offered an even larger artist lineup, kicking off at 6 p.m. with a soulful solo performance by Italian singer Carmen Consoli at Le Poisson Rouge. The audience enjoyed her percussive acoustic guitar playing and expressive delivery through a mixture of Italian song, indie-rock, jazz and blues. Dedicating one of the tunes to her hometown of Catania, Sicily, Consoli explained that she was born between sea and volcano, fire and water, elements which have clearly informed her music and performance style.

Bassist Ben Allison followed, featuring violinist Jenny Scheinman, Shane Ensley on trumpet, Steve Cardenas on guitar and the killer chops of Rudy Royston on drums. The band played material from Allison's recent recording Think Free, with which the audience seemed to be well-acquainted. Introducing the crowd-pleasing Man Size Safe off Little Things Run the World, Allison revealed that it was "part of the Dick Cheney suite I've been writing for the past nine years". The energetic set ended with a guest appearance by Joey Arias, delivering a moving rendition of the theme song from Philadelphia.

Dashing over to Sullivan Hall, but unable to get beyond the front door to see (or even hear) Gretchen Parlato, I headed over to Kenny's Castaways for rising young bassist Linda Oh and her quartet. Sound problems made it difficult to get a clear impression of Oh's playing (on electric) or to the effect of the electronic samples she introduced. Next up at Kenny's was the JD Allen Trio, Allen's deep, penetrating sound on tenor heating up the already sweltering room. His band mates - Rudy Royston on drums and Gregg August on bass - displayed a strong synergy as they dug deep into material from Allen's 2009 album Shine. The trio elicited enthusiastic audience appreciation, a woman across the room dancing joyously (yes!) while a gentleman standing beside me hummed some of Allen's memorable themes.

Squeezing through the crowd I made it back out and dashed over to Sullivan Hall to witness Dr. Lonnie Smith tearing it up with his funk-soul-jazz recipe, then back to LPR, where I caught the last few moments of Benin-born guitarist/vocalist Lionel Loueke. Managing to get just past the door, I saw and heard enough to know he had captivated and moved the crowd with his brand of melodious African jazz. It was now almost 11 p.m., and I was only about halfway through my itinerary...

Over at The Bitter End, progressive funk-jazz-rock band Rudder (Chris Cheek on saxophone, Henry Hey on keys, Tim Lefebvre on bass and Keith Carlock on drums) were getting ready to hit. "Winter JazzFest is officially sold out!" announced Adam Schatz of Search & Restore, guest curator at Kenny's Castaways, as he presented the hard-driving, genre-defying band, which seared with infectious energy. Unable to tear myself away, I missed most of Vijay Iyer's trio, playing music from his latest album Historicity, widely considered one of the best albums of 2009.

Eager to hear the promising Ambrose Akinmusire Quintet, I headed back to Sullivan Hall. Winner of the 2007 Monk Competition, the young, gifted trumpeter generously shared the spotlight with his band mates - Walter Smith III on tenor, Taylor Egisti on piano, Harish Raghavon on bass and Justin Brown on drums - all abounding with skill and creativity. After a long night I was elated to finally score a bar stool and sat myself down to hear startling drummer Chris "Daddy" Dave with the inimitable Derrick Hodge on bass, Kebbi Williams on tenor, and Casey Benjamin joining the fold mid-set, adding some fiery intensity. Dave drew a late-night audience comprised of numerous musicians who had played over the course of those two nights, some listening intently, others conversing by the bar - a sight not uncommon throughout the festival, as artists rallied to support one another.

And the music kept going till 4 a.m.

Among the shows I regretfully missed due to time/venue conflicts were the Jenny Scheinman/Jason Moran duo; the Bitches Brew Revisited project; Tyshawn Sorey's Koan; John Hollenback's Claudia Quintet, which apparently tore it up; Mike Reed's People, Places & Things; Oran Etkin's fusion of traditional Malian and Jewish music; the William Parker Quartet and others. The music from the 18-or so shows I did manage to catch is still swarming in my head as I write these lines, continuing to energize and inspire - not only me, it seems, but much of the jazz community. The sight of venues packed with people eager for jazz was uplifting (the ticket price of $25 for an all-night, all-club pass - or $30 for both nights - was no doubt a factor). There was a much-needed buzz in the community and on the streets, supporting the broad spectrum of jazz voices on the scene today, some working more within the tradition while others stretched into a broader aesthetic, melding jazz with other genres and musical influences from around the world.

Winter JazzFest is, as noted by Jason Moran an a recent LA Times interview, unlike most other corporate- and sponsorship-heavy jazz festivals. Taking place in small clubs rather than large concert halls, its audience - ages ranging from twenties to sixties to the 85 year-old George Wein - was not your typically polite, clapping-on-cue crowd; they were rowdy and invigorated. Their enthusiasm, coupled with the vast and varied amount of captivating material and technical aptitude, serve as the ultimate, unequivocal and vociferous response to the ongoing discussion surrounding the current state of jazz.

Two perspectives on Jazz: Four views

by Marc Chénard

Since its inception a little over a century ago, jazz has been the object of much close scrutiny. When considering its rapid evolution, it is hard not to be amazed by the several transformations it has undergone. So much so, that it was never an eady task to define the music with any accuracy, a chore rendered impossible nowadays in our global village.

Yet, this has not prevented people from trying. In the myriad of books and articles written on the music, learned historians, journalists, music fans and even musicians themselves have offered their own takes on this issue. Through all of these, it seems more than obvious that one person's jazz is not necessarily someone else's.

But of the numerous 'definitions' of the music out there, two are particularly striking in that they offer radically different takes, each of these seemingly opposed to the other.

1-Jazz as the classical music of America. (Marshall Stearns)
2 Jazz as the sound of surprise. (Whitney Balliett)

The first of these definitions, it should be noted, was recently the object of another toundtable style article in the September 2009 issue of Downbeat, Dan Ouellette poses the question to three people as to whether this designation 'classical' should be abandoned altogether. Herwith is the opening statement of his column:

"According to the National Endowment of the Arts Study 'Arts Participation 2008; Highlights from a National Survey', audiences for jazz have been seriously dwindling. The study linked jazz with classical music as performing arts whose attendance has declined the most. Given the alarming stats, should jazz be tagged "America's classical music" because of an audience perception problem?" Downbeat, Sept 2009 p. 15.

While this question is of potential interest for discussion, this is offered as a complement of information to the issue raised here (and for those interested, search for the article in question, surely worth the read). Three musicians, one of whom is also a jazz educator and teacher, and one journalist/jazz historian were sollicted to give their views on both of the definitions, and to pronounce themselves on which of these they thought was more relevant, or satisfactory.

There are indeed several ways of dealing with the question, one being a more detached (or objective) way (based on observing the art form as it now stands); conversely, there is a more subjective approach where the participant can take a more personal stand, as informed by his or her own personal experience with the music. Thus: Has jazz attained a 'classical' status after a little more than a century of existence? Or: can it still surprise the listener in light of its extraordinarly quick evolution over this time period? These were but some possible avenues that were suggested to the particpants.

Coat Cooke, Vancouver
Saxophonist and artistic director of the New Orchestra Workshop (a.k.a. NOW Orchestra)

To me, I really have problems with both of these definitions, and for different reasons. Regarding Whitney Balliett's definition, I have always liked that definition on some levels. One part of the music I like is when there is that sense of excitment, or when your on the edge of the unknown, if you wish. However, that definition is also so vague and addresses the music in almost a naive way. Not only that, but I find it to be almost pejorative in the sense that this naiveté denigrates the music in a lot of ways, as it is reducing it almost to an umpulse, when in fact it is much more complex than that. That is but one aspect of a greater whole, because it extends far beyond that into a variety of cultural, sociological and historicals considerations. So reducing the music to 'the sound of surprise' is just an oversimplification of things, and even belittles it for the sake of a catch phrase. It's never easy to describe anything for that matter, and you should always wonder what the purpose of it is, or why you're doing it in the first place. All that to say that boiling all of this down to that is just not adequate. But as mentioned previously, it's a definition of one aspect of the music I happen to like, which is fine, but to have it as an overall descriptor is really treading on dangerous ground.

And I have the same feeling on the other statenent, too. When you look at the dictionnary definition of 'classical', it says that it's something considered to be 'serious'. But what then are the implications of that word? When looking at it from a Western perspective, there's an air of importance given to that term. True, there's no denying jazz is an important music and one that has reached a high level of development here in its birthplace. Now I was discussing this topic with a freind of mine, and I came to the point of saying that 'classical music' is something that can be readily defined, in the sense of being written down and reproduceable anywhere in the world, and at any point in time. In jazz, that is not the case, which, by the way, is a strange word in and of itself. Yet, when you look at the jazz of the pre-bop era, a lot of it was played by big bands (Ellington, Basie, Lunceford…) where it was very much written down, but with the jazz component in the solo improvisations (which, incidentally, was once the case in early 'classical' music as well, a practice gradually renoved from it so as to not be part of its description anymore). From be-bop on, however, it became a more strongly indivisualized music. In today's schools, they teach you to play like, say, Cannonball Adderely, when in fact it has nothing to do with individual expression at all. So jazz is not 'classical' in the sense of being codified, which doesn't mean it shouldn't be taken seriously.

Reno De Stefano, Ph.D.
Jazz guitarist/composer (Professor of Jazz Studies/Université de Montréal)

Let's start by saying that a precise definition of jazz is always problematic because it is a constantly evolving art form. What may appear to be a concise and clear definition for a particular style or period may be inadequate and totally inappropriate for another. One only need to listen to Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers ("Indestructible") from 1964 and to Cecil Taylor's "Unit Structures" from 1966 to realize that a definition of jazz would have to be quite general, all-encompassing and flexible to provide room for these two diametrically-opposed jazz aesthetics which co-existed side by side. Examples such as this one abound in the jazz tradition.

Marshall Stearns tries to illuminate his readers by positing that jazz has achieved the status of classical music as a distinctive and unique musical art form. It is true that jazz developed as an indigenous American art form, the culmination of a long process of maturation just as in classical music. Hence, jazz is to America what classical music is to Europe. The history of jazz (and classical music) is characterized by continuous stylistic change because it is in the nature of an art form to grow and develop. In the jazz discourse and its literature we discover that jazz is elevated above other indigenous forms ("America's classical music"), and we find this idea of an evolutionary progression reaching back to the beginning of the century. In his survey a History of Jazz in America, Barry Ulanov supports this view and explains that the history of jazz is a "curiously even one, chaotic at any instant, but always moving ahead in what is, for an art form, almost a straight line." Classical music as we know it, has gone through a similar type of development.

The contributions of master soloists such as Louis Armstrong, Coleman Hawkins, Charlie Parker, John Coltrane, Ornette Coleman and others have brought about major changes in the jazz language at different times throughout its complex history. It is clear then, that it becomes increasingly difficult to provide an adequate, all-encompassing definition of a musical language that is constantly going through rapid changes in vocabulary and sound.

There is no doubt that the jazz language and its sound have changed dramatically in its brief hundred-year history. So much so, that even swing players when first confronted with bebop thought it sounded Chinese to their ears. Every decade or so, master improvisers and composers have introduced innovations and distinctive "new sounds" to the idiom. Consequently, we can understand and appreciate Whitney Balliett's attempt to define jazz "as the sound of surprise." This sonoric individualism- the unfettered expression of the individual- is probably the most radical and most important aspect of jazz which differentiates it so dramatically from most other forms of music-making. In his book Musings, Gunther Schuller remarks that the "sounds of jazz, as musicians simply call it, are its most obviously distinguishing and memorable surface features." Even the purely rhythmic distinctions between and among players are much less pronounced than the timbral and sonority aspects. These have always been and still are today amongst the young generation of players, highly personal and specific.

In the future jazz will most probably continue to evolve and borrow from other musical styles and traditions. Any attempt to provide an accurate definition will become increasingly more difficult as jazz moves away from its indigenous African-American roots. However, as an art form jazz has already been consecrated, earning its status as America's classical music, never ceasing to surprise us with its sounds !

Christine Jensen
Saxophonist, composer, band leader (Montreal)

I have had time to question how to place jazz in the now. With the current recession barking at my heels that need to be oiled by funding from a vast array of sources, along with European travels through many jazz clubs, concert halls along with giving many masterclasses, I have come to realize that jazz is competing with a lot more music than it used to, as all genres continue to diversify. There is also the need to build a new, young audience as the older one is mostly attached to music from the past (eg. pre-1960 jazz). Traveling with Nordic Connect we have noticed a general disconnect in establishing an audience in jazz, as well as in selling our music on CD especially. I feel a steady decline in live audience participation, thus the decline in jazz audience population, although there are some bright spots. This has mightily affected record
sales, further diminishing the artist's budget in promotion. Talk about a cog in the wheel!

Defining jazz is a tricky thing for me. It has consistently evolved at a rapid rate due to a high influx of schooled musicians, as well as the addition of technology. So, defining it to me is more like defining improvised music as opposed to jazz (which contains such a broad spectrum of styles in it's own genre). I would not define jazz as America's Classical music for a variety of reasons. To attach "classical" is to attach a stigma of a style of music that has already been historically placed. The improvising musician puts the music in the now, which, to me, goes against the term "classical". I feel that jazz continually evolves through the musician searching out new structures that fuse composition and improvisation. I also believe the jazz artist is less inhibited once these two elements are fully explored , and I would only hope that Balliett's idea of the "sound of surprise" is the result. I think that Balliett's definition is most fitting, as ultimately the audience is introduced to something new each time they hear a jazz group that improvises. This is why jazz is jazz and why I think that it is an international or world music before it is America's classical music.

I find in my travels and in my teachings that the young jazz musician is more skilled than ever, and is at hard work attempting to find one's own voice rather than relying on the re-hashing of the American songbook with a limited vocabulary in improvisation (although the brightest stars are equally astute in paying homage to the songbook repertoire eg. Kurt Rosenwinkel). I believe that jazz should have the respect of the people and the state at the same height of classical music for this reason, but there are some serious obstacles. I feel that America* already has its own classical music whether it contains new compositions or it is the performance of standard repertoire. It is well structured on many levels as the composer is the ultimate storyteller. Classical music includes a high level of organization from the presenters in order for the ensemble or solo artist to take advantage of its audience. Jazz, on the other hand, can only be in a decline because of a lack of awareness and organization (festivals are still a beacon of light, but tend to limit jazz awareness by presenting their programs in a short amount of time). I have also noticed that the institutions that foster classical music have a tendency to repress the notion of artistry in jazz, and choose to further separate the genres, giving the classically trained musicians the advantage of pursuing a career that contains a lot more cultural support on many levels. To me jazz is jazz as long as it contains that element of surprise from the improvising musician. It is social music, and it bridges and draws from many genres, therefore giving even more meaning to it's own definition.

(*) When Stearns refers to America in his definition, I wonder if that includes Canada as well? Does he mean the United States, or the North American continent?

Mark Miller
Journalist and jazz historian. (Toronto)

Personally, I neither find "America's classical music" nor the "Jazz as the sound of surprise" to be entirely (or at all) satisfying as definitions. But if asked to choose between them — as indeed is the exercise here — I would prefer the latter, if only because it causes me less difficulty.

I have always resisted in principle, and resented in fact, any effort to quantify or qualify jazz in terms of classical music and thus implicitly establish a hierarchical relationship between the two fields in which one, classical music, becomes the standard to which the other, jazz, aspires. Jazz need not be quantified or qualified on any terms other than its own. (Unless, of course, it's for purposes of fundraising; how better to open the purse strings of public and private philanthropy than to claim equality with the music played by the symphony orchestras and opera companies that have traditionally received such support?) If the intent of calling jazz "America's classical music" is simply to suggest that Armstrong, Ellington and Parker (for example) are to America what Bach, Beethoven and Bartok (for example) are to Europe, in terms of their respective culture's highest musical achievements — well, that is perhaps innocent enough. But it is no more than a laurel; it is certainly not a definition. (And, as has been asked before in discussions of this sort, where does it leave Aaron Copland, Henry Cowell and Charles Ives?) Employed more formally, and for any purpose other than as a promotional catch-phrase, "America's classical music" fixes in place the aesthetics of jazz in ways contrary to what has historically been its inquiring spirit, as if its full measure has now been taken — a measure based on past events and evidently restricted, rather too jingoistically, to those events as they occurred in the contiguous 48 states. While this may be consistent with the comings and goings at Lincoln Center, it precludes the possibility that jazz might continue to evolve, a dangerous presumption to make of a music that has, in its 100-year history, done nothing but evolve — for better and, admittedly at times, for worse.

"Jazz as the sound of surprise" is a happier proposition, one no more adequate as a definition but one at least open rather than exclusionary in its implications. Although it is in fact just one of the many characteristics that might be ascribed to jazz, and although that characteristic is not unique to jazz, "the sound of surprise" places no limits on the music stylistically, culturally or geo-politically. Instead, it allows for — and even captures an essence of — the freedom that jazz has embraced and, if it's not held back by such sloganeering as "jazz is the classical music of America," will continue to embrace.

Note: Miller's newest publication, Herbie Nichols—A Jazzist's Life (Mercury Press) is to be realeased this month in Canada.

Vancouver International Jazz Festival 2009: Set 1: Introduction and Trio M

by Laurence Svirchev

The TD Canada Trust Vancouver International Jazz Festival has a special quality that differentiates it from the vast majority of music festivals. It presents not only an array of headliners to fill the the large concert halls, but it also emphasizes the musicians who represent the bulk of the Canadian jazz scene aesthetics and economy. Approximately 1800 musicians play the festival, and 52% of these are from the Vancouver area while another 15% are from the rest of Canada. I'll stand corrected if any other large North American festival, the Montreal festival for example, can even come close to this track record. The TD Canada Trust Vancouver International Jazz Festival goes one step further to make it the shining star of North American festivals: the restless rolling stone of jazz imagination finds its contemporary expression every June in Vancouver. The TD Canada Trust Vancouver International Jazz Festival spotlights creative Canadian and international musicians in the context of their long-standing collaborations, not in cubby-hole clubs, but in venues with great acoustics and comfortable seating.

One of these collaborative events, Ice hockey: Canada vs. Sweden featuring François Houle and Mats Gustafsson +12 was an extravaganza featuring musicians decked out in hockey jerseys. Two video screens showed vintage hockey matches; the screens switched to scoreboards when one side trumped the other with a goal. Fred Lonberg-Holm from Chicago a had immense fun refereeing the jocular relations between the Canadians and Swedes in a show which featured plenty of roughing and fast-paced improvisational skating. At the end of the match the score was even, Houle and Gustafsson faced off, not with the clarinet v. baritone saxophone, but over a child's board game. Gustafsson easily scored with a slap shot and the players then went through the post-game ritual of shaking hands with each other.

A different take on international collaboration came from the Félix Stüssi 5 + Ray Anderson. Stüssi is a Montréal-based pianist-composer who originally came to Canada from Switzerland. Anderson's original base was Chicago but now it is New York State. Then there was Joëlle Léandre, the French bassist who was ubiquitous at this year's festival, collaborating with a number of people, including a solo-duo set with Swiss improviser Urs Leimgruber. Gigs such as these may not be the economic engines that keep a festival boat afloat in these years of funding cuts to the arts, but over the course of the previous twenty-three annual festivals, Vancouver audiences have been privileged to cutting edge music. For example, in 1992, Bill Frisell told me that festival Artistic Director Ken Pickering was the first person in North America to ask him to play his own music at a festival.

Jazz journalists too-frequently review a festival's music in the chronological order in which they heard the gigs. While this may give a sense of how a festival flows, it is all too easy for the writer to concentrate on making comparisons between and among gigs, writing more about how the writer feels he becomes aurally saturated over 10 days. The range of music at the TD Canada Trust Vancouver International Jazz Festival is too broad, in my opinion, for such an approach. It is not fair to artists to compare a headline set of music veterans with the opening act, typically younger artists who represent the future of the music. In an attempt to keep the ears fresh, I listened to maximum two or three concert sets a day. With this dynamic in mind, I'll concentrate on some of the individual concerts I heard, starting with Trio M (Myra Melford, Mark Dresser, and Matt Wilson).

Trio M


Trio M's concert opened misterioso, seemingly as an open improvisation in slow time. Dresser played long-tones arco in the cello range; Wilson emphasized the toms with flutter anti-theses on the high-hat; Melford played sparingly, almost randomly, as she moved gradually out of the treble range into the mid-range. Then at four minutes, the preamble paid off in a grand anthem-like theme that evoked the strange paradoxical tension between music that is somber and celebratory at the same time. The musicians chose not to sustain this zone of tension for long. With Matt Wilson's explosive "Go!", the song took off as an express-train duo between the pianist and the drummer. From there the song went through multiple variations on themes, time changes, and emotional feel before ending at the thirty-two minute mark.


Many, including myself, had not heard Matt Wilson before. He made a strong impression upon the sophisticated group of listeners who frequented the Roundhouse Performance Center, so I would like to comment on his approach to music making. Wilson's delivery, although he is a thorough modernist, was oddly reminiscent of Joe Morello's, the underestimated drummer who made his mark with the classic Dave Brubeck Quartet. Morello was a drummer's drummer; it seemed that wasn't anything Morello couldn't do on the drums.

Wilson is no different. He frequents the drummers' classic left hand cross grip, ergonomics that perhaps delivers less rock power but instead grants the drummer a great range of expression at high velocity with a minimum expenditure of energy, particularly on the snare and the high-hat. With Wilson the listener also gets to hear an exceptionally powerful right foot that delivers rhythms independent of those generated by the other limbs. The result is an intriguing polyphony that belies what the eyes see when watching Wilson. He has an economy of motion at the kit which provokes the illusion he really is not that busy. For example, he will sometimes stop-motion his right hand at the top of the arc before making a decisive strike while the other three limbs in his kit's cast of characters are moving swiftly.

If the listener closes the eyes the realization kicks in that he possesses the same qualities of high-end expressiveness, aesthetics, vocabulary, and velocity as some of the drummers (like Paul Lovens, Han Bennink, and Hamid Drake) we have been privileged to hear in Vancouver. Trio M was worth hearing if just for this one discovery, which of course makes me want to hear Wilson (who by the way composed several of Trio M's pieces) in other contexts.


Back to the gig itself. With a reprise of the melody at the end of the express section, Melford dropped out and Wilson used a rapid deceleration of tempo on the high hat, a moment of silence intervened, and Mark Dresser soloed pizzicato at slow tempo, ending with his trademark right-hand slash against the strings: he hits with such speed that at the hand dramatically continues though the arc and ends up hanging at the horizontal for a moment.

Dresser is one of the sophisticates of the double bass, a true innovator in the way he has exploited the possibilities of combining the traditional acoustic properties of the instrument with contemporary electronic methods. He has discovered methods to enhance the natural vibrations of the strings that are too small to be heard without amplification. His bass has coiled pickups embedded in two strategic places on the fingerboard, allowing him to express as many as three simultaneous pitches on one string and at the same time control the volume of each pitch. The three pitches come from the two lengths above and below where his fingers press the string into the fretboard, and the third is the vibration of the whole string through the instrument.

These techniques are both powerful and beautiful magnifiers that increased the depth and intensity of the music. Midway through the first number of the concert, Dresser created creating a bowed cycle in the deep range of the bass occasionally punctuating it with a plucked the E-string that gradually transited into the cello range. Tucked into all that sound were eerie musics that sounded created totally by a synthesizer, but in fact were the amplified natural harmonics of short lengths of the strings which normally could not be heard by the human ear. What made the effects even more delicious were the happy concurrence of Melford lifting her hands off the keys and manipulating the strings inside the piano, with Wilson softly on brushes.

This song lasted some 33-some minutes. In fact it was not one composition but three, an interpolation of AL (Matt Wilson), The Promised Land (Melford), and Naïve Art (Matt Wilson). The segues, improvisations, counterpoints, instantaneous accelerations/decelerations, and tension-release cycles made the music simultaneously sound like both a total improvisation and a through-composed piece. This was one of the great things about listening to Trio M, they took the audience on a journey through space and time and one was never sure what would happen next. That essence of jazz is exactly what happened during the rest of the concert.

Reference CD: Big Picture By Trio M, www.cryptogramophone.com

Ornette Coleman, Montreal International Jazz Festival, July 9, 2009

by Mark Chodan After an absence of more than 20 years, it would have been hard to pass up seeing Ornette Coleman on a Montreal stage. And what an impression he made… The evening started with the FIJM presenting Ornette with their Miles Davis award, ironic given that Miles had little positive to say about Ornette and his band when they arrived in New York in the late 50s. His acceptance speech (or more accurately, "non-acceptance speech") was in the typically esoteric Ornette style where he spoke about how the only thing that was important for humanity was love. Ornette politely declined the physical award, dismissing it as a "gadget". Note: for those interested in familiarizing themselves with Ornettese, search out the CBC unedited podcast of an Ornette interview with Jian Ghomeshi from 2008. Ornette and his quartet then proceeded to play well over one hour's worth of a mix of classic and newer Ornette music. With son Denardo Coleman on drums and bassists Tony Falanga (upright) and Al MacDowell (electric piccolo), the quartet was definitely closer to Ornette's Prime Time zone of the 80s than to the classic quartet of the 60s. Ornette stuck primarily to his alto although at many points he did switch to violin or trumpet for segments of many of the pieces. The best way to picture the music, in my opinion, is to think of the quartet as a stripped down Prime Time, where the bassists function as the foundation, the x-axis, and Ornette and Denardo as the y-axis, where time can be stretched, compressed or side-lined. Falanga and MacDowell are clearly master musicians of the highest caliber, Falanga laying down the basic groove and MacDowell commenting and interjecting with his guitar-like piccolo bass. On this foundation Ornette and Denardo are free to enter dialogue amongst themselves and/or with the bassists. Not to knock Denardo, but I couldn't help but wonder at certain points how different this quartet may have sounded with a different drummer. Throughout his career Ornette has not usually strayed too far from a basic pulse in his music, and this Denardo does provide. But it would be interesting to consider the musical possibilities if Ornette were to team up with, well, maybe not a Paul Lytton or Tony Oxley, but maybe Hamid Drake. At 79, Ornette still has formidable stamina and a stunning sense of time. The set was followed by two encores, his classic Lonely Woman, and another piece which was either Michael Jackson's (!) "Beat It", or another Ornette piece that quoted the Jackson tune extensively, in the wake of Jackson's death only two weeks earlier. Overall, Ornette Coleman's quartet provided an evening of exciting music. Gone are the days when Ornette could easily clear out a venue with his "radical" music of days gone by. These days Ornette is selling out concert halls and other large festival venues. This is an encouraging sign that perhaps great artists are no longer only recognized upon their deaths.

Anat Cohen Quartet: Revisionist Post Modern Jazz from the Big Apple

By Paul Serralheiro

The sound of the clarinet is not one associates with Modern Jazz, but Anat Cohen proved it is still a relevant instrument in her show Monday night at L’Astral (July 6, 9 PM) at the Montreal International Jazz Festival.

The main appeal of her playing was the fluidity of her ideas which was facilitated by an excellent technical command. At times, the technical display took the upper hand, and she would run rote patterns with little musical interest, but these were luckily infrequent, as her lyrical talents dominated.

The music making was aided by some excellent work by guitarist Gilad Hekselman. With a clear presence and a strong voice, Hekselman displayed some original thinking, especially in his percussive concepts. Despite some gratuitous over-reliance on showy playing at times--like the leader--his technical facility mainly served musical ends.

Likewise, bassist Joe Morris had a nice big sound, although his articulation was too heavy at times, where implied notes and rhythms would have been more efficient and effective.

Drummer Daniel Freedman, for his part, showed lots of energy and heart, although his articulation was rather sluggish in spots, missing spryness in his ride cymbal swing figures, for example.

The band purveyed some satisfying music--despite some reservations for this listener--bringing to life an interestingly conceived Jitterbug Waltz, to open the evening. Also memorable were the originals Jay’s Blues, and The Bucket Kicker, as well as a convincing version of Body and Soul, (despite the unimaginative arrangement), and a choro by Pixinguinha to close the show which lasted about 70 minutes, with no encore.

Félix Stüssi 5 & Ray Anderson

par Monique Poirier

Le 8 juillet dernier, le quintette de Félix Stüssi et Ray Anderson a capté l'attention de l'auditoire venu les entendre au Upstairs de Montréal. À cette occasion, le quintette présentait plusieurs nouvelles pièces qui feront partie d'un prochain CD. Dès les premières minutes, on a vite senti l'énergie de ce groupe en grande forme. Le tromboniste Ray Anderson s'ajoutait aux saxophonistes Bruno Lamarche et Alexandre Côté, assurant une section de vents très solide et homogène. Clinton Ryder à la contrebasse et Isaiah Ceccarelli à la batterie complétaient le groupe dirigé par le pianiste Félix Stüssi.

Ce qui m'a fascinée c'est la façon avec laquelle les compositions nous ont fait voyager, passant d'un inconnu un peu exploratoire vers un thème qui se développe soudain tout naturellement. Par exemple, cette pièce qui commence par un solo d'archet à la contrebasse avant d'émerger dans un thème où tout le groupe se joint. Parfois, c'est le thème de départ qui est bien établi, mais qui prend tout à coup une tournure inattendue. Comme dans cette pièce où le tromboniste est laissé seul dans une improvisation qui permet au trombone de parler, chanter, pleurer, chuchoter s'esclaffer dans des registres parfois insoupçonnés! D'ailleurs, les moments d'improvisation que nous a offert chacun des musiciens étaient des moments de liberté pleinement sentis qui s'intégraient fort bien dans les compositions de Félix Stüssi. Et comme pianiste, même s'il se faisait discret à certains moments, il a pu s'exprimer avec verve à d'autres moments dans un discours souvent monodique, mais jamais banal.

Il m'est resté de cette musique une impression d'équilibre entre structure et liberté, de plaisir de sortir des sentiers battus tout naturellement… Pas tellement pour l'exploration pure, mais parce que l'expression l'impose…

Ottawa International Jazz Festival 2009

By Ron Sweetman

The Ottawa International Jazz Festival for 2009 ran from Thursday June 25 to Sunday July 5 . There are four main series of concerts, the Connoisseur Series at Library and Archives Canada, Great Canadian Jazz at Confederation Park, Concert Under the Stars at Confederation Park, and Improv International at the National Arts Centre Fourth Stage. In addition, there were free concerts in various locations around town and on the OLG Stage, plus two panel discussions organized by the Jazz Journalists Association and nightly jam sessions. I'll take you through each major series chronologically, but I should explain that I did not attend every concert of every series.

At the Connoisseur Series, which featured pianists, I particularly enjoyed four pianists whose styles could hardly have been more varied - Toshiko Akiyoshi, Amina Claudine Myers, Patricia Barber and Lenore Raphael.

Toshiko Akiyoshi endeared herself to the audience with autobiographical anecdotes which served to introduce each piece she played. Bud Powell loomed large in the anecdotes and in her playing. Amina Claudine Myers demonstrated her strengths in gospel, jazz, blues and standards on piano and organ. Patricia Barber was the epitome of chic; the musical equivalent of New Yorker magazine. Lenore Raphael chose a selection of standards and elaborated on each one most skillfully.

Because of time conflicts, I attended few of the Great Canadian Series concerts, but one concert I particularly enjoyed featured the gutsy tenor saxophone of Andre Leroux, who was there with his Quartet.

The Concerts Under the Stars came on to the Main Stage after the Great Canadian Series each evening. What little I caught of Dave Douglas' Brass Ecstasy was very impressive. Dave's solos were inspired, and the concert was my first opportunity to hear the great French horn player Vincent Chancey in person. Singer Roberta Gambarini lived up to her reputation as one of the foremost jazz singers of our day. The few tunes I heard from Jimmy Cobbs' So What Band were delightful; I particularly liked the way in which the two saxophonists (Vincent Herring on alto and Javon Jackson on tenor) worked together. Soul singer Al Green put on a polished show to an adoring audience.

The Gary Burton Quartet Revisited kept the audience's attention, despite heavy rain. Both Gary and Pat Metheny soloed most effectively. Always a treat, the Maria Schneider Orchestra played beautifully, the arrangements being particularly effective. The same material played by an inferior orchestra might be dismissed as purely pretty, but the quality of the arrangements and the players would stifle any such assessment of this orchestra. Cuban pianist Chucho Valdes and his quintet did a strong set and were enthusiastically received by the audience.

The Concerts Under the Stars series ended with Brian Blade and Charles Lloyd. Brian Blade is that rare item; a drummer without ego. His excellent Fellowship Band was a model of restrained power and Brian limited himself to one short solo. Charles Lloyd performed remarkably well on tenor sax and flute for a man of his age, backed by an excellent quartet.

The Improv International series was the reason I missed so much of what went on elsewhere. This excellent series brings in improvisational talent from around the world, starting things off with the brilliant Monk's Casino from Germany, led by pianist Alex von Schlippenbach. Both trumpeter Axel Dorner on trumpet and Rudi Marshall on bass clarinet were outstanding, and von Schlippenbach demonstrated a rare understanding of Monk's music.

The high quality continued the next evening with Switzerland's Zoom. While all three musicians were excellent, trombonist Nils Wogram stood out as a world-class player. French pianist Baptiste Trotignon brought in four Americans to play with him. His playing was very sophisticated, and excellent solos were heard from Mark Turner on alto sax and Jeremy Pelt on trumpet and flugelhorn. Crystal Magnets was the disguise behind which French pianist Benoit Delbecq and Canadian pianist Andy Milne hid their piano duets. Music of a very high quality.

Some people found the Finish group Ilmiliekki unsatisfying, but I found that what they lacked in fire they made up in subtlety. Perhaps they suffered from comparison with the enormously dynamic and enjoyable Trio M (Myra Melford, Mark Dresser and Matt Wilson). It was obvious from the start that this trio just loves playing together, which they demonstrated by great musical empathy and supportive laughter. The series ended with another dynamic trio; Dutch pianist Michiel Braam, Dutch bassist Wilbert De Joode and American percussionist Mike Vatcher. This trio has played together for a long time, and their musical empathy was evident throughout their energetic and energizing performance. This series adds a fresh and vital dimension to the whole festival.

In conclusion, the 2009 Ottawa International Jazz Festival was one of the best ever. Come and join us next year!

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Ron Sweetman
Tel: 613-730-2083 | Fax: 613-730-1818
Email: ronsweetman@kalixo.com <-- NEW!
http://www.inamellowtone.com