The Purcell Room hosted the UK première of Barry Guy's The Blue Shroud, released on Intakt Records - a really substantial work for 14-piece ensemble, forming a tribute to Picasso's great anti-war painting from the Spanish Civil War, Guernica. The composition was CD length at around 77 minutes, with the poem Symbols Of Guernica by Irish poet Kerry Hardie providing the structure - she read it at the start of the London performance, while the painting was projected onto the back of the stage.

The pan-European ensemble featured violinist Maya Homburger, Greek vocalist Savina Yannatou, Spanish pianist Agustí Fernandez, Irish guitarist and composer Benjamin Dwyer and Swedish saxophonist Per "Texas" Johansson. Other members were **** Paccoud (viola), Percy Pursglove (trumpet), Michael Niesemann (alto sax/oboe), Torben Snekkestad (soprano/tenor), Julius Gabriel (baritone/soprano), Marc Unternährer (tuba), Ramón López and Lucas Niggli (percussion). Guy directed, and played bass.

It's a stylistically convincing multi-genre work, with fluid transitions between baroque, Spanish, free jazz and big-band jazz styles. There's a Spanish inflection through Spanish acoustic guitar, free-jazz squalls, baroque passages that are more than quotation and pastiche, led by Maya Homburger. The vocalist ranges from free vocalising to spoken passages. Torben Snekkestad plays trumpet and soprano sax and towards the end, both together! It turns out it's a reed trumpet, and Snekkestad explains by email that this unusual instrument was pioneered by Eddie Harris in the late 60s on his album Free Speech, as here, it sounded surprisingly close to a conventional trumpet.

Other highlights included an amazing passage with scurrying percussion and strings; a free melée that ended abruptly, dissolving into a liquid, fruity solo tuba with multiphonics; and an explosive solo from Benjamin Dwyer on Spanish guitar. Guy is a musical force of nature, and - I reckon - one of the great jazz composers, a definitive
line-up being: Morton, Ellington, Monk, Evans, Russell, Bley, Guy. In fact his influences are broader than jazz, but are mostly jazz-based.

Have you ever wondered what goes into a performance? For some it might just be a quick run through of familiar standards, while for free improvisers any prep at all might be anathema. But for a large ensemble rehearsal is pretty much essential. Even more so when it comprises 14 musicians from nine countries who don't get together on a regular basis, as is the case with bassist Barry Guy's Blue Shroud Band.

In August Guy took advantage of a festival booking which fell through to rehearse the Band for two other upcoming festival appearances at the Frankfurt Alte Oper and the 2019 London Jazz Festival. While prestigious, such performances typically set aside only minimal rehearsal time and a soundcheck. While part of the group's DNA is it's gathering of accomplished sight readers who are conversant not only in jazz/improv, but also baroque music, there's still a need to refresh. Especially as the band last played its titular work, "The Blue Shroud," back in October 2017 in Essen, Germany. And in addition there was also new member, tubaist Marc Unternährer to absorb this time round.

But this was no ordinary practice. As well as running through the music, this was to be a key part of a film documenting "The Blue Shroud." The idea originated with Dublin-based filmmaker Jonathan Creasy, who also recommended using the historic Aghavannagh Barracks set high in the Wicklow Mountains of Ireland as the backdrop for the exercise. There was something poetic about making a documentary about a work dealing with the repercussions of war in a location so redolent of Irish history: a former military barracks built by the British to suppress the Irish rebels led by Michael Dwyer, a distant relative of the BSB's guitarist Ben Dwyer.

"The Blue Shroud" is deserving of such attention. The 70-minute plus work is one of the crowning achievements of the Englishman's career, uniting as it does the distinct strands of his work in Baroque classical, contemporary new music, jazz and free improvisation. It's a work founded on contrasts and juxtapositions, a bit like Guy's bass style writ large. He takes as his inspiration three interlinked themes, the Spanish Civil War atrocity at Guernica, Picasso's masterpiece of the same name, and the titular blue awning hung over a tapestry of that painting which was the backdrop when US Secretary of State Colin Powell presented the case for the invasion of Iraq at the UN Building in New York in 2003.

The concept sprang from discussions with Irish poet Kerry Hardie, whose words both provided a text and suggested possibilities for structure and diverse types of improvisation. To offset the resultant spiky improv and dense ensembles Guy co-opts some of the loveliest melodies ever written, creating settings for extracts from H.I.F. Biber's "Mystery Sonatas" and the "Agnus Dei" from J.S. Bach's "B minor Mass." In this circumstance, Guy uses these reimaginings to signify humanity's indomitable resilience in the face of suffering and ultimately hope.

For the rehearsal, the musicians were arranged in a semicircle in the tower of the Barracks with Guy the focal point. The combination of a fog machine and bright stage lights generated an extraordinary atmosphere in the room for the filming. Hardie came to the first session, and recited her poem to further reinforce the mood. Then Guy ran through the entire score bar by bar, working to achieve the desired impact. The repeated passes at the material allowed consideration of the complexity, detail and richness of voicings -"hear subtones from saxophones" -which might pass a listener by in the blur of the concert situation.

With similar attention to detail Guy instructed drummers Ramon Lopez and Lucas Niggli on what he was seeking from their rustling shell percussion: "I'd like it to be really kind of ominous." And it was, transmitting a hint of subdued threat, like an intruder crunching on the gravel outside your window. Guy's explanations brought various parts of the charts to ever more vivid life: "This is weird surreal theater. You've really changed personality here."

There was a palpable sense of camaraderie in the air. This was clearly more than a gig for all concerned. In another example of the democratic ethos Guy promoted, various members stepped in to cue particular sections, especially when Guy himself was busy playing. It was also manifest in how the musicians offered ideas as to how to make things work even better.

One of the highlights of the piece comes when the band breaks into a funky waltz powered by drummer Niggli's crisp articulations, which provides the context for Michael Niesemann's impassioned alto saxophone soaring through and above the surging orchestral vamp. As Niggli described it: "We stay super cool while he goes nuts." At this point, Lopez proposed adding a triplet motif on his hihat to emphasize the counter riffing of trumpeter Percy Pursglove, tubaist Unternährer and the strings during the jazzy swing. They tried it a co...

Le strategie di Barry Guy

Raramente capita di incontrare un musicista che, come il grande contrabbassista inglese, parli del proprio lavoro con tanta passione e dovizia di dettagli, esibendo un ampio ventaglio di interessi culturali

Senz'ombra di dubbio Barry Guy (Londra, 1947) è uno degli esponenti storici della musica improvvisata europea. Per quanto corretta, una tale affermazione risulta riduttiva. Infatti, se si analizzano il percorso artistico e la produzione del contrabbassista, ci si rende immediatamente conto dell'ampio spettro di temi e contenuti affrontati sia come esecutore sia come compositore.

Guy apparve giovanissimo sulla vitale scena inglese verso la fine degli anni Sessanta grazie alle collaborazioni con John Stevens, Howard Riley, Paul Rutherford, Tony Oxley e Bob Downes. Insieme a Rutherford e Derek Bailey fu protagonista di una delle pietre miliari nella definizione di un approccio europeo all'improvvisazione che azzerasse i parametri jazzistici consolidati: «Iskra 1903 (Incus), comprendente registrazioni del settembre 1970 e del maggio 1972.

Queste esperienze seminali diedero la stura a una copiosa sequenza di audaci sperimentazioni e proficue collaborazioni, a cominciare da quelle con l'amico Evan Parker: in duo, nel trio con Paul Lytton e più tardi nell'Electro-Acoustic Ensemble. La poetica del duo ben si addice a Guy, se si considerano i confronti con altri due giganti del contrabbasso come Barre Phillips e Peter Kowald, o il più recente sodalizio con la vocalist greca Savina Yannatou. Quanto al trio, merita la massima attenzione anche quello formato con Lytton e Marilyn Crispell, oltre alla periodica ripresa del percorso di Iskra 1903, con il violi nista Phil Wachsmann al posto di Bailey. Tuttavia il tratto più rilevante dell'identità di Guy risiede nella cospicua attività compositiva: per orchestra (di cui la London Jazz Composers Orchestra costituisce l'apice), gruppi di varia foggia e dimensione, solo violino ed elettronica. Rimarchevole anche il suo ruolo di esecutore in ambito contemporaneo e classico, alle prese con un vasto repertoria comprendente tra le altre pagine di Monteverdi, Bach, Händel e Haydn. Insieme alla moglie, la violinista svizzera Maya Homburger (in passato membro degli English Baroque Soloists di John Eliot Gardiner), Guy ha fondato l'etichetta Maya, che nel proprio catalogo annovera lavori di musica improvvisata, contemporanea e riletture di autori classici.

Raramente capita di incontrare un musicista che, come Guy, parli della propria musica con tanta passione e dovizia di dettagli, esibendo un ampio ventaglio di interessi culturali. L'intervista è stata raccolta nel novembre 2017, all'indomani di un concerto con Savina Yannatou che si è tenuto nell'ambito della rassegna ParmaJazzFrontiere.

Iniziamo dalla sua attività attuale e in particolare dal duo con Savina Yannatou, che copre una vasta gamma di fonti e riferimenti: dalla libera improvvisazione alla musica antica, dalla musica popolare greca a influenze sefardite. Com'è nata questa collaborazione? È vero, nel suo repertorio Savina ha incluso un gran numero di riferimenti a musiche etniche. E interessante notare che, quando per la prima volta ci fu proposto di esibirci insieme al festival Unerhört! di Zurigo, la prima domanda che ci ponemmo in sala prove fu: «E ora cosa facciamo?. Il direttore artistico del festival, Patrik Landolt, ci aveva proposto di formare il duo nella convinzione che insieme avremmo prodotto una combinazione affascinante. Decidemmo di improvvisare, ma a un certo punto mi ricordo di aver suggerito a Savina che se avesse inserito nel programma delle canzoni tradizionali, sarei stato ben contento di lavorarci liberamente. Ne scegliemmo un paio e il resto fu affidato alla libera improvvisazione. In occasione del nostro secondo concerto, circa un anno dopo alla Bimhuis di Amsterdam, ci incontrammo nei camerini e Savina mi chiese «E stavolta cosa facciamo?». «Più o meno quello che avevamo fatto la volta precedente, magari aggiungendo qualche altra canzone!», fu la mia risposta. Infatti Savina propose un altro paio dei suoi temi preferiti, che ben si sposavano con il contrabbasso. L'album «Attikos» (2010, Maya) fu il frutto di quel concerto.

Può illustrare come si sviluppa la dina-mica interna di questo duo?

Di recente stavo lavorando a un pezzo nel quale mi sarebbe piaciuto introdurre dei richiami alla musica antica, utilizzando l'arco e degli accordi, una sorta di brano rinascimentale. Savina ci ha semplicemente improvvisato sopra, possedendo un orecchio talmente raffinato da permetterle di cogliere tutte le implicazioni dell'armonia. Curiosamente, durante le prove di ieri mi ha chiesto se stavo suonando una sequenza di accordi oppure un particolare pattern, ma io le ho fatto notare che si trattava solo della combinazione di sei o sette possibilità che in qualche modo si alternavano in una sorta di ordine. Lei aveva pensato che ci fosse una struttura rigorosa, mentre invece ...

Organization and innovation are the concepts most closely associated with British bassist Barry Guy, who turns 70 this month. Trained as a classical musician, he established himself early on as a masterful soloist in groups led by pianist Howard Riley. By his mid 20s, Guy's founding of and compositions for the London Jazz Composers Orchestra in 1972 demonstrated that precise notation and free-form improvisation could coexist.

One key to Guy's temperament is found on the 1966-67 Spontaneous Music Ensemble (SME) album Withdrawal, which marked the recording debut of the bassist as well as saxophonist Evan Parker. Confined to creating drones underneath the solos, Guy asserts himself with sharpened arco thrusts, resonating plucks and even bent-note glissandi on piano. His associates - trumpeter Kenny Wheeler, trombonist Paul Rutherford, reed player Trevor Watts, guitarist Derek Bailey and drummer John Stevens, ostensible leader of the SME- were not only older but in the process of inventing British free music. This is group exploration, especially when the septet plays a Webern-influenced suite. There are passages when Watts demonstrates virtuosity, playing snarling oboe and rhythmic bass flute or facing contrapuntal challenges when his fluid soprano saxophone lines partner with Stevens' intermittent beats and/or Rutherford's crying gurgles. Bailey's choked strings and sharpened patterns are already distinctive, but the standout soloist is Wheeler; his asides, note squeezes and mouthpiece wiggles define free music. The libretto for The Blue Shroud by Irish poet Kerry Hardie refers obliquely to the Spanish Civil War bombing that inspired Pablo Picasso's anti-war painting Guernica and a 2003 incident where a reproduction of the masterpiece at the United Nations was covered by a blue cloth as Americans made the case to invade Iraq. Interspersed among Savina Yannatou's vocals, which range from lyric soprano to a fusillade of gurgles, growls and yodels, are slogans from both wars, Guy the orchestrator contrasting pacific and belligerent sections, with distinctive Spanish motifs played at intervals by guitarist Ben Dwyer. Fragments of H.I.F. Biber and J.S. Bach airs inserted by violinist Maya Homburger and violist **** Paccoud, underscored by brawny bass continuum, serve as a requiem for the carnage suggested by earlier miasmatic orchestral sequences. The players, representing 10 different countries, reach a crescendo of sophisticatedly delineated tones on the suite's penultimate sequences. Like a battlefield soundtrack, the scene darkens via thundering pumps and smacks from percussionists Lucas Niggli and Ramón López while artillery recoils from Michel Godard's tuba and Percy Pursglove's trumpet, altissimo screeches from four saxophonists (Torben Snekkestad: soprano, tenor; Michael Niesemann: alto; Per Texas Johansson: tenor; Julius Gabriel, baritone, soprano), quivering string spiccato and Yannatou's harsh scatting reach a polyphonic climax, then ebb away. Throughout The Blue Shroud, pianist Agustí Fernández offers classical-style formations alongside the strings then peppers the program with dynamic chord progression, kinetic pitch and pressure movements.

Organization and innovation are the concepts most closely associated with British bassist Barry Guy. A classically trained musician, he early on established himself as a masterful soloist in groups led by pianist Howard Riley and others. By his mid-twenties however, Guy, who turns 70 this month, had made in music the same sort of transcendental leap Woody Allen effected in film by demonstrating memorable skills as director as well as actor. Guy’s founding of and compositions for the London Jazz Composers’ Orchestra in 1972 demonstrated that precise notation and free-form improvisation could coexist. From then on, like a hyperactive Jekyll and Hyde, the bassist has enthusiastically directed and played with large ensemble while utilizing his string prowess in a dizzying number of smaller bands.

One key to Guy’s temperament is found on Withdrawal, which marked the recording debut of the bassist and incidentally saxophonist Evan Parker. Ironically their contributions couldn’t be more different. Like viewing a hoary commercial where a famous actor says only one word, Parker was so cowed that his major role is playing introductions on glockenspiel [!]. But Guy’s achievement is the equivalent of discovering a lost film by a respected director.

Confined to creating drones underneath the solos on the CD’s 1966 tracks, on the remaining numbers from 1967, Guy asserts himself with sharpened arco thrusts, resonating plucks and even bent note glissandi on piano. Guy was not yet 20, and his associates – trumpeter Kenny Wheeler, trombonist Paul Rutherford, percussionist John Stevens, multi-reedist Trevor Watts and guitarist Derek Bailey – were not only older, but were in the process of inventing British free music. The bassist’s skill was obvious. Think of it as the ingénue in a scene with the likes of Meryl Streep making as much of an impression as the diva. Otherwise this is primary group music, especially when the septet plays a Webern-influenced suite. There are passages when Watts demonstrates virtuosity playing snarling oboe and rhythmic bass flute and faces contrapuntal challenges when his fluid soprano saxophone lines partner Stevens’ intermittent beats and/or Rutherford’s crying gurgles. Bailey’s choked strings and sharpened patterns are already distinctive, but the stand out soloist is Wheeler. Able to wrap tones in glamorous big band sheen, his asides, note squeezes and mouthpiece wiggles define free music, with solos so translucently dappled that they’re the aural equivalent of color striations in a rock.

The color scheme is different on The Blue Shroud. Like trying to compare a black and white classic with a wide-screen color extravaganza, the program and objective is almost antithetical. Relevant as Donald Trump-sanctioned concept of “alternative facts” proliferate, the performance’s libretto by Irish poet Kerry Hardie refers obliquely to the Spanish Civil War bombing that inspired Pablo Picasso’s anti-war painting Guernica and a 2003 incident where a reproduction of the masterpiece at the United Nations was covered by a blue cloth as Americans made the case to invade Iran. Interspaced among her vocals, which ranges from lyric soprano to a fusillade of gurgles, growls and yodels, Savina Yannatou mouths phrases from both wars. Instrumentally the suite confirms Guy’s skill as an orchestrator, contrasting pacific and belligerent sections, with distinctive Spanish motifs played at intervals by guitarist Ben Dwyer. Fragments of H. I. F. Biber and J.S. Bach airs inserted by violinist Maya Homburger and violist **** Paccoud not only to underscore post-battle calm but also wars’ history. Additionally the Biber-Bach’s emergence at the suite’s end, underscored by Guy’s brawny bass continuum, serves as a requiem for the carnage suggested by miasmatic orchestral sequences earlier on. Representing 10 different countries the players reach a crescendo of sophisticatedly delineated tones on the suite’s penultimate sequences. Like a free-jazz battlefield soundtrack, the scene darkens via thundering pumps and smacks from percussionist Lucas Niggli and Ramón López, while artillery recoils in the form of Michel Godard’s tuba growls and farts, altissimo screeches from four saxophonists, quivering string spiccato and Yannatou’s harsh scatting reaches a polyphonic climax, then dribbles away like life seeping from a dying combatant. Throughout The Blue Shroud, Agustí Fernández’s keyboard looms like a war hero among the rank-and-file. Capable of classical-style formations alongside the strings, in orchestral battles he peppers the program with dynamic chord progression, kinetic pitch and pressure movements while thrusting the theme forward as with a tank. Besides his virtuosity on his own instrument, Guy’s musical longevity rests on his refined compositions and arrangements skillfully interpreted by the musicians with whom he’s played for 50 years, or a few months.

„The Blue Shroud“ könnte einmal als Vermächtnis des Bassisten Barry Guy gelten.Das Album ist Ausdruck seiner vielfältigen Interessen in Barockmusik, Komposition, Jazz und freier Improvisation und dann natürlich seines großen Talentes als Komponist für große Klangkörper. Seine Inspiration besteht aus drei miteinander verknüpften Themen, dem Spanischen Bürgerkrieg und der Gräueltat in Guernica, Picassos Meisterwerk mit dem gleichen Namen.

Guy stellt eine 14 köpfige Band zusammen, zu der Jazzer, mehrere Spezialisten für frühe Musik und
die griechische Sängerinn Savina Yannatou gehören. „The Blue Shroud“ liefert einige der schönsten Melodien, die jemals geschrieben wurden, inspiriert durch u.a. H.I.F. Bibers „Rosenkranz-Sonaten“ und J. S. Bachs „h-Moll-Messe“.

Indem er Stilmittel der Klassik, Neuen Musik und Improvisation als Appell an die Freiheit und Menschlichkeit gleichberechtigt einsetzt, erscheint Guys Zuversicht in die Zivilcourage gegen Krieg, Unterdrückung und Gewalt von geradezu universeller Qualität. Jetzt schon ein Klassiker!

https://www.klenkes.de/kultur/tontraeger/artikel/78459.barry-guyblue-shroud-band-mit-the-blue-shroud

Den 26 april 1937 flygbombade Kondorlegionen – ett nazistiskt förband bestående av drygt femtusen tyska Francosympatisörer – den baskiska staden Guernica.
I juni 1937 avtäcktes Pablo Picassos tavla/muralmålning Guernica – som starkt skildrar detta skoningslösa dåd – i den spanska paviljongen på Världsutställningen i Paris.
Den 5 februari 2003 lät Förenta Nationernas tjänstemän täcka över en reproduktion av tavlan Guernica med ett blått tyg. Anledningen? Guernica ansågs inte utgöra en lämplig visuell bakgrund till ett tal i vilket USA:s dåvarande utrikesminister Colin Powell argumenterade för ett krig mot Irak.
Den 15 april 2016 släppte Barry Guy Blue Shroud Band cd:n The Blue Shroud, ett mästerligt verk som omvandlar allt detta ovanstående till en berättelse om ”den mänskliga anden” och hur den förmår ”motstå tyranners förtryck”.
Att engelsmannen Barry Guy är en kompositör utan like har varit fullkomligt uppenbart sedan, säg, dubbel-lp:n Ode (Incus, 1972). Att Barry Guy har en näst intill magisk förståelse för storbandsformatet har också det varit fullkomligt uppenbart sedan just Ode – han realiserade den nämligen med hjälp av månghövdade London Jazz Composers Orchestra.

Så The Blue Shrouds storhet är inte särskilt förvånande. Och om man betänker vilka briljanta musiker som spelar på den – Per Texas Johansson, Maya Homburger, Torben Snekkestad … – blir man än mindre häpen. Men jag kan ändå inte låta bli att förundras över hur djupt The Blue Shroud berör mig – hur utsökt dess sammansmältning av barockmusik (den innehåller bland annat utdrag ur Bachs Mässa h-moll och två Heinrich Biber-sonator), fri improvisation och frijazz är. The Blue Shroud tycks helt enkelt leva och verka i ett högst eget men ändå allmängiltigt universum (ett universum som, måste sägas, ligger ganska långt ifrån genren third stream) och den bjuder på nya upptäckter vid varje avlyssning.
Din skivsamling, din hjärna och ditt hjärta behöver helt enkelt The Blue Shroud. Missa inte heller Tensegrity (NotTwo, 2016), en fyra cd tjock box som fångar olika permutationer av Blue Shroud Band live på klubben Alchemia, Krakow, år 2014.

https://orkesterjournalen.com/skiva/barry-guy-blue-shroud-band-the-blue-shroud/

Plus éloigné du jazz que les autres albums, cet enregistrement compte parmi les plus remarquables sorties de cette année. Son titre, qui évoque le drap bleu recouvrant la tapisserie Guernica lors de la conférence de presse de 2003 aux Nations Unies où les Américains
annonçaient leur intention d'envahir l'Irak, se veut un genre de réflexion sur ce conflit, sans pour autant verser dans le manifeste politique. D'un point de vue musical, le maître d'œuvre de ce projet, le contrebassiste Barry Guy, conjugue ici ses deux champs d'intérêt, la
musique baroque et la musique improvisée. Douze musiciens participent à l'aventure. Oscillant entre des collectifs d'improvisations débridées et des passages solennels citant des œuvres sacrées de Biber et de Bach, la musique transcende ainsi les genres, résultant ainsi en une synthèse qui, parions-le, sera à l'épreuve du temps.

Less germane to the jazz tradition than the previous, this disc stands on its own merits, and should make many lists of favorite releases of the year. The title refers to a drape that cove- red the tapestry Guernica hanging in the United Nations, on the occasion of the United States' proclamation to invade Iraq in 2003. In the mind of its composer, double bassist Barry Guy, this 70-minute opus was not conceived as a political manifesto but more of a meditation around the ensuing conflict. Musically, the composer has masterfully thread toge- ther his two main fields of interest, baroque music and free improvi- sed music, deftly rendered by a cast of 12 players. Ranging from tempestuous free form collectives to quiet moments of repose and materials drawn from sacred works of Biber and Bach, the music truly transcends categories, achieving a musical synthesis that will surely speak for the ages.

Bassist Barry Guy's two new albums for Intakt both take inspiration from works of art. In the case of the first one, it also incorporates the way a work of art can be presented and the resulting way in which the work is interpreted, with possible political motives coming out in the process. Vastly different in structure and instrumentation, both mine the visual medium to create strong, enduring works.

When Colin Powell went on t.v. from the United Nations to present a case for the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003, he stood near a reproduction of Pablo Picasso's Guernica. The painting was inspired by the 1937 bombing of that city, and due to the nature of it, Picasso's work was draped in a blue shroud prior to Powell's talk. Presumably the images of war were too much for the public to see as a declaration of a new war was being made.

When writing The Blue Shroud, a 71-minute piece presented in 11 sections on disc, Guy was inspired by all of the acts - the bombing itself, Guernica and the act of shrouding it before Powell's speech. To bring it to life he assembled a 14-piece band, including a vocalist, strings, reeds, low and high brass and two drummers. Along with his original score, he incorporates pieces by classical composers H.I.F. Biber and J.S. Bach.

The work gets wild and there are moments of full blown chaos, but those are fleeting sections amidst bigger pieces. Ben Dwyer's guitar evokes flamenco as he strums furiously over a droning, bowed bass. Saxophones pop furiously, leading to vocals, quickly followed by piano clatter and low chattering strings. The overall feeling is minor, although hope feels like it could be on the horizon. This is especially true when the ensemble plays the Biber's pieces (which refer to Stations of the Cross) and Bach's "Agnus Dei."

Irish poet Kerry Hardie composed "Symbols of Guernica" which vocalist Savina Yannatou recites in sections throughout the piece. The use of voice and intense imagery never makes the work polemic or bombastic. Rather it elevates the feeling of the work. Since the liner notes, like all Intakt releases, appear in both German and English, it was hard to tell at first if Yannatou's recitation was in English or not, since it, wisely, was not pushed to far forward in the mix. This added to the overall impact of The Blue Shroud, making this element just one piece of a stronger whole.

The seven tracks on Deep Memory all derive titles from works by British painter Hughie O'Donoghue, from a 2007 Berlin exhibition titled Lost Poems. Though Guy didn't attempt to transform each canvas into music there can be parallels drawn between the vast, sometimes dark, swaths of color and Guy's performance with longtime collaborators Marilyn Crispell (piano) and Paul Lytton (percussion).

More than anything else, this collection reveals that wide array of moods this trio can create. After the opening "Spirit" - a tranquil rubato piece that unfolds slowly with gentle piano and a plucked bass solo - the group explodes, quite literally, in the opening seconds of "Fallen Angel," with furious bowing and crashes on the keys. The mood of the track also turns calm, but builds up to a climax a few more times, sustaining energy all along.

"Return of Ulysses" proves why Crispell is so highly regarded as a post-Cecil Taylor proponent of energy and technique. She unleashes blocks of sound over some furious bass scrapes that might have put the future of Guy's bow in jeopardy. "Dark Days" begins with her firing repeatedly on one note before taking off across the whole keyboard.

Yet for all of the wildness, Crispell draws on her deeply meditative side as well, which is felt in "Silenced Music" as well as the aforementioned opening track. Lytton colors the music perfectly, whether he's sitting back or adding some hard rolls to the stop-start theme of "Sleeper." And Guy, who composed everything, sounds great, especially in his "Spirit" solo which made my car's speakers vibrate wonderfully during a recent listen. Which proves that the best way to listen is by sitting right in front of two strong whole.

https://shanleyonmusic.blogspot.com/2016/11/cd-review-barry-guy-blue-shroud.html

In 2003 George Bush's US media officials in New York hung a blue drape over the tapestry copy of Picasso's mural Guernica in the UN building, immediately before the US secretary of state Colin Powell announced his government's intentions of invading Iraq.

This shameful act of the fear of revolutionary culture and the proclaiming of a brutal attack, in which Blair's government was fully complicit and participatory, is now remembered in the album The Blue Shroud by the London-born bassist Barry Guy's Blue Shroud Band.

Guy, born in 1947, was classically trained, but became one of jazz's prime free-form bassists, being an integral part of John Stevens's and Trevor Watts' spontaneous Music Ensemble (1967-70), a member of other pioneering free bands like Amalgam and Paul Rutherford's Iskra 1903 and a founder of the much larger London Jazz Composers' Orchestra.

I first saw Guernica at the Museum of Modern Art, again in New York, in June 1968 after months of protests against the US war in Vietnam and in support of some of the civil rights movement, including the Poor People's campaign in Washington DC earlier in June. No other work of public art had ever had such an effect on me.

I stared at its figures the bull, the agonised horse, the woman with her child, the screaming man with upraised arms below the sky on fire -and wondered about what each of them emblematised.

But it was the whole wall-sized work and its unfettered pain that crushed any illusory defence in my mind and I eventually walked away with a completely new view of art and culture.

That same assault on the eyes of false consciousness is expressed through Guy's sonic masterpiece, as the shroud of epochal Bush-Blair untruth is ripped from the listener's ears by some of Europe's most pow- erful free music stalwarts.

These include the Spanish drummer Ramon Lopez (whose own remarkable album Songs of the Spanish Civil War celebrated his compatriots' courage and love of freedom), the Majorca-born and Barcelona- trained pianist Augusti Fernandez, the French tuba virtuoso Michel Godard and the Swiss drummer Lucas Niggli.

Percy Pursglove's mournful, shuddering trumpet introduces the Prel- ude, the viola and violin resonate, and Ben Dwyer's guitar remembers the nightscape of Spain's horror of fascism and war.

Savina Yannatou sings the words. of Symbols of Guernica, written by the Irish poet Kerry Hardie, inside the rumbling drums and Fernandez's defiant journeys up and down his keys.

In the track called Bull/Mother and Child/Warrior, Godard's tuba growls below the pain of the saxo phones and the crashing percussion.

Julius Gabriel's baritone horn gurgles, as if it were making its last
sounds. Guy uses extracts of Biber's Rosary Sonatas to create a sudden sequence of pure viola melodic beauty before Yannatou sings of the futile journey of The Blinded Bird of Hope, underscored by the sawing strings of Guy's bass

Picasso's bulb at the highest point of his mural is written down by Hardie in this way: "The single bulb of torture keeps the faith, wild theories drive the gun's demented roar. In cities now laid open to the sky, unblinking, the relentless eye of war."

It is of now-times and now-wars of which she writes and Guy and his bandmates play.

In Bird and the Biber aria that follows, Godard's delving tuba sounds like a fanfare of hope before Maya Homburger's scintillating vio lin chorus sings throughout the crushed city where "death-smoke hangs in oily black-ended palls."

Stare at and imbibe Picasso's images before you listen to Guy's astonishing soundscape. You will hear Aleppo, Fallujah and their people's horror, and in the final track, a fusion of Guy and Bach's Agnus Dei, you will perhaps perceive a distant glimpse of human peace and unity.