The link on these two albums lies in both alto saxophonist Tim Berne and pianist Matt Mitchell. The release of Berne's first album (The Five Year Plan, 1979) promised great things, something he has consistently delivered for the past 40 years, in composition, improvisation and through a series of well-conceived bands. Perhaps the most successful has been the quartet Snakeoil, which, since 2013, has released five albums on ECM and Intakt. Initially a quartet of Berne, Mitchell, clarinetist Oscar Noriega and drummer/vibraphonist Ches Smith, it expanded to a five-piece with the addition of guitarist Ryan Ferreira.

For The Deceptive 4 - Live, they've reverted back to the original lineup and that's not a bad thing. Snakeoil is known for its high-energy performances of complex compositions. While there's a lot to absorb throughout this double-disc set of music taken from shows at Firehouse 12, Ibeam Brooklyn and Roulette, it's the atypical moments that stand out. "Spare/Citta" begins in a misterioso quiet mood, gradually accruing momentum and energy, yet the initial impression lurks in the background throughout. The brief (only six minutes) "Scanners" has a jaunty, playful quality right up to its abrupt conclusion. "Deception" contains an unusual duet between Mitchell and Smith. Noriega is an excellent foil for Berne and Smith drives the ensemble with complex rhythms built into the compositions. The lack of bass has never hampered the group and actually gives it a lighter, more nimble sound, making the complexity seem natural, less obtrusive. The Deceptive 4 - Live is a strong release and bodes well for the band's continued future.

Over the past decade, Mitchell has been one of Berne's most frequent collaborators. They've produced a series of duet albums demonstrative of their bond. The pianist seems to relish his parts in Snakeoil, but operates with a little more freedom in the duo. On Spiders he breezes through the themes yet it's during Berne's solos where Mitchell clearly shines. Harmonically he anticipates where Berne is heading. "Julius" is rife with surprising detours but when they arrive at the final theme, stated in unison, it's an arresting moment. Spiders shows they still clearly still have plenty to say to and with each other.

Improvisatory notes

TIM BERNE talks to Chris Searle about the free-jazz impetus of his new album

AS A teenager, free-improvising US saxophonist Tim Berne was keenest on Soul music but after he began to learn saxophone, inspired by the masters like Sonny Rollins, Joe Henderson, Anthony Braxton and Julius Hemphill, he turned towards jazz and free improvising.

This ardour for free music became even more passionate when he moved to New York City —“there was tons of live music there” — and he sought out Hemphill who gave him saxophone lessons and career advice. He began his own label, Empire, and cut his first album, The Five Year Plan, in 1979.

The instrumentation of his Snakeoil Quartet, with Matt Mitchell on piano, drummer Ches Smith and Oscar Noriega playing Bb and bass clarinets is somewhat unusual in not including a bass. It’s not something he misses: “I like the combination of clarinet and piano.”

The quartet, recorded live at two New York venues, are featured on the double album The Deceptive Four Live. It’s a sizzling record, full of fire, life and verve and Berne loves playing with them: “They are full of creativity, independence and a sense of humour.”
The track Perception has a magical percussive opening by Smith, followed by earnest conversational interplay between Mitchell’s serpentine piano and Noriega’s birdlike clarinet before Berne’s alto flows with riverine notes and Smith’s pounding drums rise up. It is the sound of an extraordinary quartet creating the impression of a much larger band.
Berne’s favourite track is Hemphill, the album’s 21-minute finale, a remembrance of his mentor and by the impassioned way Snakeoil play it, a tribute too.
Berne’s rhapsodic opening flourishes radiate deep human feeling grounded by Mitchell’s hard-struck piano and Noriega’s clarinet flies above them, calling them with his aerial notes. There is a profound sense of unity in Snakeoil’s sound, with ensemble passages and other long moments where one member leads and provokes his confreres into fresh sonic reaches and concord, then falls back and another bandmate sparks other new directions.
Moornoats begins fast, an amalgam of torrid sounds, with Smith’s drums artistry in prime fettle. There is a beautifully lyrical bass clarinet passage by Noriega, while Mitchell earths his piano chimes stridently beneath his notes.
Great stuff.

https://morningstaronline.co.uk/article/c/improvisatory-notes