The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis’ “molecular systematic music” Quartet can threaten to smother creativity with its involved
thematics but on their latest record they sink into a slower register, playing through beautiful
ballads and downtempo, fractal melodies with a signature deftness of touch. A complex album
that is a joy to encounter.

The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis’ strongest statement on wax yet. He and his quartet power the music with passion, pur
pose and propulsion.

The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis delivers his abstractions with an erudite restraint and formality. Many early and mid-Col
trane modalities, some infused with restless passion but more with a relaxed, evenhanded
caution, allowing the listener to project any transcendence.

Moody, contemplative and gorgeously expressive, Abstraction Is Deliverance is the work of a quartet that deserves its place in the front rank of contemporary creative music. With the exception of the title piece — the album’s most aggressive performance, featuring high-level interplay and an extremely powerful saxophone component — this is a dark hued work that’s both eloquent and emotive. Displaying roots that extend from modalism effortless to melodicism that echoes the impressionism of Debussy and Ravel, the band’s fifth outing stakes its place among the best recordings of this decade. The opening “Ware” illuminates the lineage from Newk and Trane to the titular David S. Ware with a fervid rhythmic underpinning and Lewis’ meditative lead, while “Remember Rosalind” layers a winsome melody over Chad Taylor’s slowly churning accompaniment. The oft-recorded “Left Alone” drifts on Taylor’s reiterative foundation and Brad Jones’ resonant toms, providing fertile ground for Lewis’ rich exposition of the Billie Holiday/Mal Waldron melody. Above all, this is a band that appreciates texture. “Multicellular Beings” and “Per 7” are both prime examples of how these four can shift their traditional roles to build performances that seem so purpose-built that listeners may mistake them for through-composed work. Over the course of its five recordings, Lewis’ quartet has grown into the one of the most eloquent improvising groups in recent history. They appear to be transforming their 41-year-old Swiss boutique label the way John Coltrane did for Impulse! in the ’60s.

Her artistry 'stems from having grown up in two counties that defeated the West: Ethiopia and Vietnam'
CHRIS SEARLE speaks to Ethiopian vocalist SOFIA JERNBERG

PERHAPS it was her childhood experiences that have made the Ethiopian singer Sofia Jernberg such a powerful and audacious musical internationalist. Her new album, Musho, allied with the brilliant and empathetic Oxford-born pianist Alexander Hawkins, has songs from Ethiopia, Armenia, medieval Sweden and Shakespearian England. And she states with pride that her artistry “stems from having grown up in two counties that defeated the West: Ethiopia and Vietnam.”

“I was born in Addis Ababa in 1983 and grew up with a single mother who adopted me while she was working as a diplomat in the Swedish embassy. She worked in Ethiopia and Vietnam before we arrived in Sweden when I was 10, when she started work at the Swedish International Development Agency. We had an electric piano and record player at home and I listened to music from all over the world. The LP player became my best friend. I was constantly singing, but never thought it could be a profession until I was in my mid-teens.”

“I speak four European languages well, but understand many more. My mother spoke Amharic and loved Ethiopia, so it has always been a part of my life, but its culture for me was always connected to a deep sorrow and involuntary separation. Ethiopia went through a lot in the ’80s and ’90s, and we engaged closely with that.

“I didn't know what jazz was until my teenage years. Before that my interest was Western classical music. But I was always curious about all kinds of music, and as I looked at jazz shelves in libraries and record stores that curiosity deepened. I struggled to understand it, did all the listening to myself and never talked to anyone about it. I went to jazz concerts and avant-garde performances by myself, never talking to anyone about it. I never studied music at a higher level, but learned what I needed — how to read and write music and learned by doing, listening to and playing records of musicians I admired.

“I didn't become a full professional singer until I was 30, but had stood on a stage and sung regularly since I was 10, since I went to choir school.”

She developed a love of many art forms, including dance and visual performance. “I chose music because it’s a language in itself. It brings people together and unites us in a strange way. I sing with people who often have opposite views to myself, who are twice my age and who I would never meet otherwise. All the ugly social structures go away when we make music. I’m a musician rather than a singer, and I sing without words for a whole concert to achieve that. Words can sometimes get in the way, and singing without them means that everyone, regardless of language, can access what I sing.”

What about her partnership with the protean Hawkins?

“We met when the musical director of Bimhuis, the Netherlands jazz club, put us together. I love Alex’s ambition, dedication and creativity in his life of music and piano, constantly pushing himself, always evolving and surprising me with the most magical moments. His musical knowledge is very rich and we share a love for all kinds of music, which is why I so often learn something new or different, because of something he said.”

Why is the album called Musho?

“It means ‘sad song’ in Amharic, and it was clear from the start that we would play melancholic music. My favourite track on the album is Willow, Willow, Desdemona’s lament from Othello. I was so pleased that Alex wanted to play something English, for the English music tradition connects us and has given me so much.”

Musho exemplifies the gloriously syncretic power of jazz, and Hawkins’s always surprising pianism unites with Jernberg’s voice in a brotherly musical fellowship to her surging, saddening and always deeply moving voice. When she sings the traditional Ethiopian song, Adwa, remembering the victory of Ethiopian forces over the invading Italian army in 1896, there is both a defiance and soulfulnness in her voice that eclipses all genres.

In that sense her voice embodies the cosmopolitan spirit of Robeson, Makeba, Peggy Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Nina Simone, and has a global reach which sings for all humanity.

Musho is released by Intakt records

https://morningstaronline.co.uk/article/her-artistry-stems-having-grown-two-counties-defeated-west-ethiopia-and-vietnam

Ein Saxophon-Koloss

Mit gleich mehreren neuen Veröffentlichungen beweist James Brandon Lewis, warum er bereits jetzt zu den ganz Großen des Jazz gezählt werden darf.

Ornette Coleman entwickelte ein schier unverständliches musiktheoretisches System mit Namen „Harmolodics", das eine Art Befreiung von den akkordischen Einschränkungen des Jazz beschreiben und weit über das modale Spiel eines Miles Davis hinausgehen sollte. Henry Threadgill entwarf eine „intervallic language", eine serielle Sprache, in der sich von Takt zu Takt Intervallreihen verändern und verschieben. Anthony Braxton veröffentlichte ein dreibändiges musik-philosophisches Werk mit dem Titel „Tri-Axium Writings"; seine Kompositionen sind oft in grafischen Modellen notiert, die eher mathematischen Gleichungen und Diagrammen ähneln. Es scheint bei den avantgardistischen Vertretern des Jazz insbesondere bei Saxophonisten einen Hang zum theoretischen Überbau zu geben. Beim vermutlich versiertesten und interessantesten Saxophonisten und Komponisten seiner Generation, James Brandon Lewis, darf das ebenfalls konzediert werden: „Molecular Systematic Music" nennt er sein Modell. Die dahinterstehende Idee sei es, so erklärte er mal, wissenschaftliche Theorien als Methode zur Konstruktion von Musik zu verwenden. Improvisationen werden da in komplexe Systeme wie eine Doppelhelix übersetzt (und umgekehrt), es geht um Intervalle als Informationsstränge und um die vier grundlegenden harmonischen Umgebungen, die Adenin, Guanin, Cytosin und Thymin entsprächen, den Basen eines DNA-Moleküls.

Das Tolle an diesen Versuchen, dem genialischen Moment des Spiels eine wissenschaftliche Beschreibungsebene unterzujubeln: Sie mögen den kreativen Prozess erklären oder sogar vorantreiben, beim Hören von Lewis' Alben verwandelt sich der akademische Ballast aber sofort in schwerelose Schönheit, die mehr als an Coleman, Threadgill oder Braxton an die spirituelle Energie John Coltranes, Pharoah Sanders' oder Albert Aylers denken lässt und an die Power eines Sonny Rollins, von dem Lewis auch einen Sinn für affizierende Melodielinien geerbt zu haben scheint. Mit all diesen Namen tut sich nicht nur eine Ahnenreihe auf. Sondern mit ihnen ist auch ein Anspruch verbunden, den der 1983 in Buffalo, New York, geborene James Brandon Lewis mehr und mehr einlöst. Sein Ton, rau und kräftig, zuweilen von der rauchigen Wärme Coleman Hawkins' und des späten Bluesman Archie Shepp durchdrungen, sucht seinesgleichen. Und seine vielseitige Produktivität ebenfalls: Allein in den letzten Monaten sind vier Alben erschienen, die den Traditionshorizont und die Zeitgenossenschaft von Lewis aufzeigen können.

Mit seinem wunderbar eingespielten Quartett Aruán Ortiz am Piano, Brad Jones am Bass und Chad Taylor am Schlagzeug - hat er gerade beim Schweizer Avantgarde-Label Intakt ein raumöffnendes, soghaftes Album veröffentlicht: „Abstraction Is Deliverance" erscheint, im Vergleich zu Vorgängeraufnahmen, geradezu balladesk angelegt, das Hymnische von Lewis' Spiel ist absolut präsent, aber verhaltener und auf subtilere Weise expressiv. Das erste Stück „Ware" ist dem Free-Jazz-Saxophonisten David S. Ware aus dem Umfeld Cecil Taylors gewidmet, den man als Bindeglied zwischen Ayler und Lewis betrachten könnte.

James Brandon Lewis mag es, mit seinen Alben Geschichten zu erzählen, immer neue, in unterschiedlichen Klangfarben, Grooves, Tonalitäten. Früher in diesem Jahr ist die von Hip-Hop-Rhythmen und Funk bestimmte Platte „Apple Cores" herausgekommen, wieder mit dem langjährigen Wegbegleiter und umtriebigen Schlagzeuger Chad Taylor und mit Josh Werner an E-Bass und Gitarre. Es ist eine pulsierende Improvisation, eine wilde Jamsession, die sich zum einen auf Schriften des afroamerikanischen Poeten und Aktivisten Amiri Baraka bezieht und zum anderen im Dialog mit Don Cherrys Werk steht und dessen „musikalische Neugier kommentiert" (Lewis).

Diese musikalische Neugier muss man auch dem neuen Saxophone Colossus attestieren: Nicht lange her, da hat Lewis mit der aus der Hardcore-Szene heraus entstandenen Band The Messthetics bei Impulse! ein Album eingespielt. Die Gruppe besteht aus Joe Lally am Bass und Brendan Canty an den Drums, ehemaligen Mitgliedern der Punk-Band Fugazi, sowie dem Gitarristen Anthony Pirog. Deren energiegeladener Instrumental-Rock ist so direkt und roh, dass er so manches Fusion-Projekt der Vergangenheit wie laue Fahrstuhlmucke erscheinen lässt. Er möge eben Tenor-Sounds, die ein bisschen Fleisch haben, sagte Lewis mal.

Aber es geht noch mal ganz anders: Bei Manfred Eicher hat er vor Kurzem sein ECM-Debüt vorgelegt, im Quartett mit Giovanni Guidi (Piano), Thomas Morgan (Bass) und João Lobo (Schlagzeug). Auf „A New Day" ist eine kammermusikalische Zurückgenommenheit zu entdecken, eine ausdifferenzierte Form von Spiritualität, die wenig mit der Intensität eines Albert Ayler zu tun hat, mehr mit der nordischnüchternen Eso-terik klassischer ECM-Aufnahmen.

Apropos Ayler – mit dem teilt Lewis d...

Tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis has established himself as the most versatile tenorist on the scene today in a relatively short time. He’s played in classical settings, gospel settings, in a punk trio, with a rock band, and as a sideman for Ches Smith and others. But his most consistent project has been his working quartet of pianist Aruan Ortiz, bassist Brad Jones, and drummer Chad Taylor. Abstraction Is Deliverance (Intakt, 2025), the ensemble’s fifth album, features eight originals and a cover of Mal Waldron’s “Left Alone.”

Tenor saxophonists have a tradition of delivering ballad albums. We could point to Coleman Hawkins, Ben Webster, Stan Getz, and, of course – the gold standard – John Coltrane’s Ballads (Impulse!, 1963). More recent contributions have come from Michael Brecker, Wayne Escoffery, Jimmy Greene, and many others. Yet, most ballad albums usually consist of familiar standards. While Abstraction Is Deliverance will likely always be considered Lewis’ ballad album, that distinction incorrectly suggests a lack of his trademark ferocity. There is plenty of it here. His pieces, for the most part, are reflective but hardly take us into a romantic or melancholic mood. If you’re centering on original material, Escoffery’s Alone (Smoke Sessions, 2024) or Greene’s Beautiful Life (Mack Avenue, 2014) are better fits. Instead, Lewis brings not merely the reflective, but also the aggressive, the modernist, and the spiritual. Arguably, it’s too convenient and somewhat unfair to label this record as simply a “ballads” album.

Opener “Ware,” is a modal tribute to the underrecognized saxophonist David S. Ware. Coltrane-like lines soar over bowed bass, cymbal flourishes, and simpatico comping piano. Jones develops a sturdy bassline that takes the tempo up slightly with Ortiz’s single-note runs and Lewis powerfully reaching re-entry, leading to a balance of fierce and tender improvisations. “Per 7” is mostly blues in call-and-response mode with Ortiz. The pace is deliberate, and the effect is deeply soulful. “Even the Sparrow” has an Eastern flavor reminiscent of Alice Coltrane, mused with a deep, prayer-like gospel feel. Taylor, who impresses on every turn, uses his mallets and hi-hat masterfully. Ortiz is subtle in his accompaniment.

“Remember Rosalind” takes spirituality to a higher level, almost Charles-Lloyd-like in its opening. The meter is odd, Ortiz’s piano glistens, and cymbals crash. Lewis weaves his lines hypnotically as the intensity builds, only to reach calmer waters as they go out. The title track has faint classical strains in the opening. But soon Lewis blows with his trademark ferocity and unbounded energy; the Lewis we know, not a balladeer by any stretch. Taylor’s drumming again is noteworthy and commanding. “Multicellular Beings” returns to spiritual, prayer-like, akin to “Even the Sparrow.” Listen, though, to Taylor’s skittering snares belying the softer tones of Lewis and Ortiz. “Mr Crick” changes both the tempo and the dynamic. Jones authors a walking bassline, and the tune resounds with the angularity of Ornette, replete with fiery improvisations.

The lone cover, “Left Alone,” was written by Mal Waldron and Billie Holiday in the late ‘50s. Lewis and the quartet infuse the piece with spirituality behind Jones’ arco bass, Taylor’s toms, and Ortiz’s cascading lines. Lewis stays somewhat restrained, occasionally surfacing with potent clusters. The result is sublimely gorgeous. Closer “Polaris” begins with a deliberate single-note intro from Ortiz that evolves into a chamber music-styled melody that reaches heated intensity following Ortiz’s declarative solo, prodded on by Jones and Taylor in the engine room. Yet, somehow, Lewis conjures softer, reflective tones as they exit.

Call it what you want, but there’s far more than simply ballads here. Abstraction Is Deliverance shows the tight chemistry this quartet has built and is unequivocally one of James Brandon Lewis’ finest efforts.

https://postgenre.org/review-abstraction-jbl/

Auf ihrem sechsten Album präsentiert sich die Formation Pilgrim des Zürcher Tenorsaxophonisten Christoph Irniger in der gewohnten Besetzung mit Stefan Aeby am Klavier, Dave Gisler an der elektrischen Gitarre, Raffaele Bossard am Bass und Michael Stulz am Schlagzeug. Ungewohnt ist die Versuchsanlage: Der 64-minütige Live-Mitschnitt vom 29. November 2023 aus dem Klub Red Horn District in Bad Meinberg (NRW) gibt das Konzert ungefiltert wieder. So gut wie nichts wurde editiert, und da es keine fixe Setlist gab, erleben wir die Musiker auf verschlungenen Pfaden zwischen freier Improvisation, solistischen Eskapaden und dem Sich-Zusammenfinden in neuen Stücken oder solchen, die sie schon oft gespielt haben. Einige Tracks werden gründlich gestaltet und umgestaltet, andere nur angetippt. Die Band kann sich viel erlauben, weil sie in den fünfzehn Jahren ihres Bestehens zu einer Einheit in der Vielfalt zusammengewachsen ist. Gleichwohl kann bei diesem Konzept nicht alles gleichermaßen gelingen. Es gibt Wege und Irrwege, energetische Ballungen und innige Momente, aber auch Passagen, in denen Fäden fallengelassen werden und weniger passiert. Diese gehören freilich zum Ganzen: Nur wo es Spannungswechsel gibt, wird Spannung überhaupt wahrgenommen. Die Reise beginnt mit einer Hommage von Gisler an Jimi Hendrix, bevor in >>Calling the Spirits<<< buchstäblich vorgeführt wird, wie eine Gruppe zusammenfindet. Die Mehrzahl der bereits bekannten Stücke entstammt dem Album >>Ghost Cat<< von 2023, so auch die weitausgreifende Lesung von >> Seven Down Eight Up<<: Sie illustriert das Aikido-Prinzip, nach dem man immer einmal mehr aufstehen als hinfallen muss. Ein guter Rat, den man auch beim Anhören dieses teils irritierenden, teils faszinierenden Mitschnitts beherzigen sollte. Mit dem symbolhaften Titel >>Back in the Game<< aus der >>Italian Circus Story<<< von 2014 endet die Abenteuerfahrt.

In copertina la tastiera di un piano, i tasti della prima ottava in fiamme. Più chiaro di così. Doveva rendere l'idea per Irène's Hot Four, i quattro incandescenti di Irene. Lei è Irène Schweizer, dita infiammate sulla tastiera fino allo scorso anno, mente e anima di travolgente intensità, no radicalismo assoluto sul pianoforte, la lezione di Monk, di Taylor, di Waldron suublimata in ondate cinetiche di spaventosa forza. L'etichetta Intakt, (anche per i prossimi lavori) ha recuperato i nastri radiofonici del 1981 per 'International Jazz Festival Zürich, con i fiati di Rüdiger Carl, il basso di Johnny Dyani, la batteria monella di Han Bennink. Che la festa ritorni.

Enjoy a playlist featuring large ensembles of various shapes and sounds, the music and spirit of Misha Mengelberg and the versatility of Silke Eberhard.

Happy listening!

Playlist

Ben Allison "Mondo Jazz Theme (feat. Ted Nash & Pyeng Threadgill)" 0:00
Jasper Blom "White Stripes" Multipolarity (Whirlwind) 0:16
Host speaks 9:17
Artchipel Orchestra "Anatole" Officine Mengelberg (Musica Jazz) 11:34
ICP Orchestra "The Gig" Live @ Plantage Dok (ICP) 17:48
Host speaks 28:28
Potsa Lotsa XL "Orthotactic" Amoeba's Dance (Trouble in the East) 29:56
Silke Eberhard Trio "What's in Your Bag" Being-a-Ning (Intakt) 33:39
Host speaks 38:09
Hans Lüdemann's TransEuropeExpress Ensemble, feat. Rita Marcotulli "Leggerezza" On the Edges 3 (BMC) 40:08

https://www.allaboutjazz.com/silke-eberhard-artchipel-orchestra-icp-orchestra-jasper-blom-and-more

The vibe-focused songs of Apple Cores are an appropriate precursor to Abstraction Is Deliverance, the fifth album attributed to Lewis’ quartet of Taylor, pianist Aruán Ortiz, and bassist Brad Jones. While songs like “Ware” (dedicated to late saxophonist, composer, and bandleader David S. Ware) and “Remember Rosalind” are sonic journeys, the majority of the tunes here play as vignettes, despite their length. “Per 7” features a charming call and response between Lewis and Ortiz while the rhythm section lurks, off-kilter. “Even the Sparrow” seems to get quieter and calmer as it sways along. “Mr. Crick” and “Polaris” exemplify Lewis’ lyrical playing, like he’s narrating a prologue to the stories of Jones’ bass solo and Ortiz’s funk groove, respectively.

Abstraction Is Deliverance is also the more emotional of Lewis’ two albums this year, with no small thanks to its centerpiece, a stunning version of Mal Waldron’s “Left Alone”. It’s a fitting tribute not just to the composition but to Waldron’s life itself. Waldron started out playing with legends Charles Mingus and John Coltrane, became Billie Holiday’s regular accompanist until her death, overdosed and was left unable to remember music, and then gradually regained his skills. He would record, either as leader or sideman, hundreds of albums before his death in 2002 at 77. The quartet’s “Left Alone” juxtaposes Ortiz’s sprinkled piano with Jones’ foreboding bowed bass and Taylor’s trotting drums, ultimately giving way to Ortiz’ dexterous piano solo. It’s a 9-and-a-half minute piece whose sheer weight feels like it encompasses Waldron’s story more than a biopic ever could. It’s also, perhaps, the best manifestation so far of Lewis’ ever-burgeoning ethos, one in constant conversation with the past while remaining firmly rooted in deep appreciation of the collaborative process.

https://sinceileftyoublog.tumblr.com/post/785334641415667712/james-brandon-lewis-album-review-apple-cores

Read any bio of saxophonist James Brandon Lewis, and you’ll likely see something mentioned about his versatility. Over even just the last few years, he’s turned Mahalia Jackson’s gospel classics into jazz and collaborated with Fugazi offshoot The Messthetics on a song and then a full album, finding common ideals among disparate sounds. Now, in the first half of 2025, Lewis has demonstrated his adaptable artistry within the confines of jazz–channeling subgenres like bebop, boom bap, jazz-funk, and free jazz–with two albums, February’s Apple Cores (Anti-) and last Friday’s Abstraction Is Deliverance (Intakt). The former’s performed by his trio, the latter his quartet, each showcasing distant aspects of a shared language.

The vibe-focused songs of Apple Cores are an appropriate precursor to Abstraction Is Deliverance, the fifth album attributed to Lewis’ quartet of Taylor, pianist Aruán Ortiz, and bassist Brad Jones. While songs like “Ware” (dedicated to late saxophonist, composer, and bandleader David S. Ware) and “Remember Rosalind” are sonic journeys, the majority of the tunes here play as vignettes, despite their length. “Per 7” features a charming call and response between Lewis and Ortiz while the rhythm section lurks, off-kilter. “Even the Sparrow” seems to get quieter and calmer as it sways along. “Mr. Crick” and “Polaris” exemplify Lewis’ lyrical playing, like he’s narrating a prologue to the stories of Jones’ bass solo and Ortiz’s funk groove, respectively.

Abstraction Is Deliverance is also the more emotional of Lewis’ two albums this year, with no small thanks to its centerpiece, a stunning version of Mal Waldron’s “Left Alone”. It’s a fitting tribute not just to the composition but to Waldron’s life itself. Waldron started out playing with legends Charles Mingus and John Coltrane, became Billie Holiday’s regular accompanist until her death, overdosed and was left unable to remember music, and then gradually regained his skills. He would record, either as leader or sideman, hundreds of albums before his death in 2002 at 77. The quartet’s “Left Alone” juxtaposes Ortiz’s sprinkled piano with Jones’ foreboding bowed bass and Taylor’s trotting drums, ultimately giving way to Ortiz’ dexterous piano solo. It’s a 9-and-a-half minute piece whose sheer weight feels like it encompasses Waldron’s story more than a biopic ever could. It’s also, perhaps, the best manifestation so far of Lewis’ ever-burgeoning ethos, one in constant conversation with the past while remaining firmly rooted in deep appreciation of the collaborative process.

https://sinceileftyoublog.tumblr.com/post/785334641415667712/james-brandon-lewis-album-review-apple-cores

It seems impossible, given the breadth and depth of his output, but it’s true: Tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis has only been “on the scene” for a little over a decade. He’s made more than 20 albums under his own name in that time, and that’s not even counting the work of Heroes Are Gang Leaders, the large, Burnt Sugar-esque ensemble he co-led with poet Thomas Sayers Ellis. Lewis is extremely prolific, and the quality of his work is never less than impressive despite — maybe because of — its variety. In this piece, though, I want to focus on just one of his groups: the quartet he’s been leading since 2020 with pianist Aruán Ortiz, bassist Brad Jones, and drummer Chad Taylor.

The group seems to have arisen out of a Lewis/Taylor duo project. “I first saw Chad Taylor playing with Cooper-Moore in maybe 2014”, Lewis recalled in a 2021 interview with Troy Collins. “Anyway, we began collaborating after I did arrangements of Coltrane tunes for a solo saxophone marathon in Philly some time ago, and then decided to use those arrangements for our duo, which we recorded as our first album Radiant Imprints.”

That album, recorded in January 2017 at Park West Studios in Brooklyn, was released the following year. In its wake, the two performed in Austria, recording the album Live In Willisau, which included a version of “Willisee”, a piece from the Dewey Redman/Ed Blackwell album Red And Black In Willisau.

“My love for the duo recording Red And Black by Dewey Redman and Ed Blackwell, as well as Chad Taylor’s love for that recording, sparked our own duo and further cemented our dedication to the depth of exploration of the duo format”, Lewis told Collins. He added, “Chad has a high level of melodic lines via the drums and it inspires me. Also, his use of mbira adds to his overall artistry in very dynamic ways. His versatility in knowing many musical genres allows me to draw from multiple influences within my own experience, giving me ultimate freedom.”

The first James Brandon Lewis Quartet album, Molecular, was recorded in January 2020 and released later that year. His previous working group had been a trio with bassist Luke Stewart and drummer Warren Trae Crudup III, which expanded to include guitarist Anthony Pirog and trumpeter Jaimie Branch. With those collaborators, Lewis swirled hard bop, post-harmolodic funk, and rock into a loud, cathartic sound, jazz you could pump your fist to. This, though, was something very different.

The tenor saxophone is the beating heart of jazz. The lineage of jazz tenor saxophone, from the 1920s to the present day, represents a legacy that living musicians must grapple with, night after night, on stages and in recording studios around the globe. Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, Don Byas, Jimmy Heath, Sonny Rollins, Dexter Gordon, Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, Johnny Griffin, Charlie Rouse, Gene Ammons, Hank Mobley, Fred Anderson, Archie Shepp… the list goes on and on.

The modern tenor saxophone quartet, though, exists in the shadow of John Coltrane. It’s that simple. Obviously, he wasn’t the first tenor saxophonist to record and perform with that combination of musicians, but his work in quartet format from 1962 to early 1965 has become paradigmatic. Since Coltrane’s death, saxophonists — even legends like Sonny Rollins and Joe Henderson, never mind (chronologically if not stylistically) post-Coltrane players like David Murray and David S. Ware — have often seemed to approach their quartet albums with a certain obligation toward gravitas. And that’s definitely true of the work of the James Brandon Lewis Quartet. The compositions on Molecular have a stateliness and grace that he sidesteps in much of his other music.

That’s partly because they’re written according to a set of principles Lewis refers to as Molecular Systematic Music, which he explained in a 2020 essay. Fundamentally, his concept is that the sum of what a musician has heard in their life is the DNA of what they will play on their chosen instrument. “MSM offers musicians a way to discover their own musical DNA by examining their prior musical experiences, yielding a chart in the form of a ‘molecule’ which may then be used to generate ideas for composition and improvisation.”

Of course, a group’s sound is created by all of its players, and that’s certainly true here. Pianist Aruán Ortiz is adept at blurring jazz, the music of his native Cuba, and avant-garde/modern classical composition into one unique sound. Bassist Brad Jones is a subtle, calming presence, existing at the center of the music, not so much an anchor as a celestial body everything else orbits. And drummer Chad Taylor has a rolling, tom-heavy style that blends swing with diasporic grooves. And the three of them were playing together before Lewis came on board; they have a trio album from 2018, Live In Zurich, that’s very different from the quartet’s music. The performance consists of a 34-minute medley of two pieces, followed by an 18-minute one, and ends ...

Cadence: Ken Weiss, MD last interviewed you for our October 2015 issue and of
course there have been some major shifts in the world? Please delve into how
COVID affected your musical and personal life?
C.I.: Since 2015 there have been a few shifts in both my musical and personal
life, such as birth of my 3rd child or moving to the house where my wife grew
up in Zurich, as also heavy touring (including the US) with my band Pilgrim
and of course Covid, which was a big game changer in many ways.
What concerns myself as a musician, Covid helped to move forward: Since
there was nothing to do for almost half a year, I started researching and to
further my education in composition, what I always wanted, but never had time
to. My effort resulted in a new repertoire for Pilgrim, as also in a collaboration
with the Swiss Jazz Orchestra and my debut as Big Band composer.
On the business side I think it caused many issues, which the scene is still
suffering from. In general there is less money for non-commercial culture,
which affected many jazz initiatives, media and clubs. The possibilities and
money to earn are/is less than before and the liability is worse due to this
economic uncertainty. Sometimes concerts are not confirmed until shortly
before the tour or got cancelled very short term, so it definitively got tougher on
the market.
That said, the scene might has become also more agile and sometimes
possibilities show up on different occasions. I don’t want to complain. Luckily
as bandleader, who is interested in many fields, I am used to be vigilant and try
to catch trains when they come.
Cadence: Jazz has always had a history of musicians returning back to school
for further education (I think of Max Roach and Tony Williams); what kinds of
musical ideas were expanded by you formally retooling?
C.I.: I’d say you never leave school as a serious artist. Being able to perform on
a high level needs daily training and as a bandleader you have to work on you
vision constantly.
One thing I was very extensively working on my instrument in the last year
was the phrasing, since I had the feeling it felt kind of sticky and I wanted it
to be more fluid. So I was searching for instrumentalists that have the feeling
I searched for (like Wayne Shorter or Dayna Stephens), played along and
transcribed solos. Imitating is always a good plan to start on something new.
Another field I am constantly working on is composition. It’s like a muscle,
which you can train to get stronger and it was always very important to me,
beyond composing itself, but also for developing a personal language on the
instrument and of course a vision as artist.
Something I found very interesting is the idea of voice leading. My
compositions are built mostly out of single lines, such as a melody and a bass
line and harmonies evolve out of these lines (voices) played together. So you
have recognizable melodies and harmonical richness at the same time, which
gives the improviser or the improvisers (depending on how many are playing
at the same time) more options to create worlds between relaxation and tension
or openness and density.
Guillermo Klein told me to analyze, study and re-write Bach Chorals, which I
still do and helps a lot for understanding, hearing and having new ideas.
Cadence: I want to double back on the expansion of your orchestral language
but in the mean time let's talk about the viability of the cd format. This
interview is taking place while you have a 2025 CD on the Intakt label;
"HUMAN INTELLIGENCE LIVE" (Intakt CD 434). Please explain why you
continue to release your music on disc? Do you see a monetary return by such
recordings?
C.I.: No, I honestly don’t see a monetary return. The value of a CD for me as a
musician is on one hand emotional and on the other promotional. It is first a
documentation of my work, something to hold in my hand, which delivers the
music together with a nice artwork and tells a story. The economic value lies
more in connection with the promotion, since I think a release on a physical
carrier makes a band still more relevant for media and promoters.
Cadence: Just to clarify for all of the recordings you have done on Intakt even
taking in account new digital formats and streaming services; you have never
seen any kind of monetary reward from your music? What about also the idea
of selling disc at your concerts also. I double down on this because it calls into
the whole notion of the value of recording especially in light of your PILGRIM
band being one of the most active groups in Europe?
C.I.: The income of physical and digital outcome on the market goes to the label
until break even. The reward after that is peanuts. I do sell CDs on concerts
not bad, but this goes back to the production, which is for most of the part
supported out of public and private cultural funds and by people who are
enthusiasts and work for a low income, such as the musicians, producers, etc. If
you do the numbers without that support...

There are two mini themes running through this edition of One Man's Jazz: one is musical partners, as in the trio of Sylvain Darrifourcq, saxophonist Manuel Hermia and cellist Valentin Ceccaldi who have released but three recordings in their 13 years of trio-hood yet believe their time spent together has let them develop into one of the most powerful and unique trios playing today. How about pianist Stanley Cowell and trumpeter Charles Tolliver? Their partnership resulted in Strata-East Records. Or consider the duo of pianist Izumi Kimura and drummer Gerry Hemingway which is very much outside typical. Or the duo of trumpeter Peter Evans and bassist Petter Eldh—their long time friendship guarantees original albums like their new Jazz Fest. The idea of a jazz festival where one would invite all manner of guests to appear was the motivation for Evans and Eldh. Festivals and live recordings provide the other mini theme, like Evans & Eldh, the late Swiss pianist Irene Schweizer in a never-heard-before release featuring drummer Han Bennink, Norway's Bliss Quintet at Nat Jazz '24, or Luke Stewart's Silt Remembrance Ensemble. Much more to like in this episode. Enjoy!

https://www.allaboutjazz.com/darrifourcq-hermia-ceccaldi-evans-eldh-and-irene-schweizer-sylvain-darrifourcq

It seems impossible, given the breadth and depth of his output, but it’s true: Tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis has only been “on the scene” for a little over a decade. He’s made more than 20 albums under his own name in that time, and that’s not even counting the work of Heroes Are Gang Leaders, the large, Burnt Sugar-esque ensemble he co-led with poet Thomas Sayers Ellis. Lewis is extremely prolific, and the quality of his work is never less than impressive despite — maybe because of — its variety. In this piece, though, I want to focus on just one of his groups: the quartet he’s been leading since 2020 with pianist Aruán Ortiz, bassist Brad Jones, and drummer Chad Taylor.

The group seems to have arisen out of a Lewis/Taylor duo project. “I first saw Chad Taylor playing with Cooper-Moore in maybe 2014”, Lewis recalled in a 2021 interview with Troy Collins. “Anyway, we began collaborating after I did arrangements of Coltrane tunes for a solo saxophone marathon in Philly some time ago, and then decided to use those arrangements for our duo, which we recorded as our first album Radiant Imprints.”

That album, recorded in January 2017 at Park West Studios in Brooklyn, was released the following year. In its wake, the two performed in Austria, recording the album Live In Willisau, which included a version of “Willisee”, a piece from the Dewey Redman/Ed Blackwell album Red And Black In Willisau.

“My love for the duo recording Red And Black by Dewey Redman and Ed Blackwell, as well as Chad Taylor’s love for that recording, sparked our own duo and further cemented our dedication to the depth of exploration of the duo format”, Lewis told Collins. He added, “Chad has a high level of melodic lines via the drums and it inspires me. Also, his use of mbira adds to his overall artistry in very dynamic ways. His versatility in knowing many musical genres allows me to draw from multiple influences within my own experience, giving me ultimate freedom.”

The first James Brandon Lewis Quartet album, Molecular, was recorded in January 2020 and released later that year. His previous working group had been a trio with bassist Luke Stewart and drummer Warren Trae Crudup III, which expanded to include guitarist Anthony Pirog and trumpeter Jaimie Branch. With those collaborators, Lewis swirled hard bop, post-harmolodic funk, and rock into a loud, cathartic sound, jazz you could pump your fist to. This, though, was something very different.

The tenor saxophone is the beating heart of jazz. The lineage of jazz tenor saxophone, from the 1920s to the present day, represents a legacy that living musicians must grapple with, night after night, on stages and in recording studios around the globe. Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, Don Byas, Jimmy Heath, Sonny Rollins, Dexter Gordon, Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, Johnny Griffin, Charlie Rouse, Gene Ammons, Hank Mobley, Fred Anderson, Archie Shepp… the list goes on and on.

The modern tenor saxophone quartet, though, exists in the shadow of John Coltrane. It’s that simple. Obviously, he wasn’t the first tenor saxophonist to record and perform with that combination of musicians, but his work in quartet format from 1962 to early 1965 has become paradigmatic. Since Coltrane’s death, saxophonists — even legends like Sonny Rollins and Joe Henderson, never mind (chronologically if not stylistically) post-Coltrane players like David Murray and David S. Ware — have often seemed to approach their quartet albums with a certain obligation toward gravitas. And that’s definitely true of the work of the James Brandon Lewis Quartet. The compositions on Molecular have a stateliness and grace that he sidesteps in much of his other music.

That’s partly because they’re written according to a set of principles Lewis refers to as Molecular Systematic Music, which he explained in a 2020 essay. Fundamentally, his concept is that the sum of what a musician has heard in their life is the DNA of what they will play on their chosen instrument. “MSM offers musicians a way to discover their own musical DNA by examining their prior musical experiences, yielding a chart in the form of a ‘molecule’ which may then be used to generate ideas for composition and improvisation.”

Of course, a group’s sound is created by all of its players, and that’s certainly true here. Pianist Aruán Ortiz is adept at blurring jazz, the music of his native Cuba, and avant-garde/modern classical composition into one unique sound. Bassist Brad Jones is a subtle, calming presence, existing at the center of the music, not so much an anchor as a celestial body everything else orbits. And drummer Chad Taylor has a rolling, tom-heavy style that blends swing with diasporic grooves. And the three of them were playing together before Lewis came on board; they have a trio album from 2018, Live In Zurich, that’s very different from the quartet’s music. The performance consists of a 34-minute medley of two pieces, followed by an 18-minute one, and ends ...

It seems impossible, given the breadth and depth of his output, but it’s true: Tenor saxophonist James Brandon Lewis has only been “on the scene” for a little over a decade. He’s made more than 20 albums under his own name in that time, and that’s not even counting the work of Heroes Are Gang Leaders, the large, Burnt Sugar-esque ensemble he co-led with poet Thomas Sayers Ellis. Lewis is extremely prolific, and the quality of his work is never less than impressive despite — maybe because of — its variety. In this piece, though, I want to focus on just one of his groups: the quartet he’s been leading since 2020 with pianist Aruán Ortiz, bassist Brad Jones, and drummer Chad Taylor.

The group seems to have arisen out of a Lewis/Taylor duo project. “I first saw Chad Taylor playing with Cooper-Moore in maybe 2014”, Lewis recalled in a 2021 interview with Troy Collins. “Anyway, we began collaborating after I did arrangements of Coltrane tunes for a solo saxophone marathon in Philly some time ago, and then decided to use those arrangements for our duo, which we recorded as our first album Radiant Imprints.”

That album, recorded in January 2017 at Park West Studios in Brooklyn, was released the following year. In its wake, the two performed in Austria, recording the album Live In Willisau, which included a version of “Willisee”, a piece from the Dewey Redman/Ed Blackwell album Red And Black In Willisau.

“My love for the duo recording Red And Black by Dewey Redman and Ed Blackwell, as well as Chad Taylor’s love for that recording, sparked our own duo and further cemented our dedication to the depth of exploration of the duo format”, Lewis told Collins. He added, “Chad has a high level of melodic lines via the drums and it inspires me. Also, his use of mbira adds to his overall artistry in very dynamic ways. His versatility in knowing many musical genres allows me to draw from multiple influences within my own experience, giving me ultimate freedom.”

The first James Brandon Lewis Quartet album, Molecular, was recorded in January 2020 and released later that year. His previous working group had been a trio with bassist Luke Stewart and drummer Warren Trae Crudup III, which expanded to include guitarist Anthony Pirog and trumpeter Jaimie Branch. With those collaborators, Lewis swirled hard bop, post-harmolodic funk, and rock into a loud, cathartic sound, jazz you could pump your fist to. This, though, was something very different.

The tenor saxophone is the beating heart of jazz. The lineage of jazz tenor saxophone, from the 1920s to the present day, represents a legacy that living musicians must grapple with, night after night, on stages and in recording studios around the globe. Coleman Hawkins, Lester Young, Don Byas, Jimmy Heath, Sonny Rollins, Dexter Gordon, Eddie “Lockjaw” Davis, Johnny Griffin, Charlie Rouse, Gene Ammons, Hank Mobley, Fred Anderson, Archie Shepp… the list goes on and on.

The modern tenor saxophone quartet, though, exists in the shadow of John Coltrane. It’s that simple. Obviously, he wasn’t the first tenor saxophonist to record and perform with that combination of musicians, but his work in quartet format from 1962 to early 1965 has become paradigmatic. Since Coltrane’s death, saxophonists — even legends like Sonny Rollins and Joe Henderson, never mind (chronologically if not stylistically) post-Coltrane players like David Murray and David S. Ware — have often seemed to approach their quartet albums with a certain obligation toward gravitas. And that’s definitely true of the work of the James Brandon Lewis Quartet. The compositions on Molecular have a stateliness and grace that he sidesteps in much of his other music.

That’s partly because they’re written according to a set of principles Lewis refers to as Molecular Systematic Music, which he explained in a 2020 essay. Fundamentally, his concept is that the sum of what a musician has heard in their life is the DNA of what they will play on their chosen instrument. “MSM offers musicians a way to discover their own musical DNA by examining their prior musical experiences, yielding a chart in the form of a ‘molecule’ which may then be used to generate ideas for composition and improvisation.”

Of course, a group’s sound is created by all of its players, and that’s certainly true here. Pianist Aruán Ortiz is adept at blurring jazz, the music of his native Cuba, and avant-garde/modern classical composition into one unique sound. Bassist Brad Jones is a subtle, calming presence, existing at the center of the music, not so much an anchor as a celestial body everything else orbits. And drummer Chad Taylor has a rolling, tom-heavy style that blends swing with diasporic grooves. And the three of them were playing together before Lewis came on board; they have a trio album from 2018, Live In Zurich, that’s very different from the quartet’s music. The performance consists of a 34-minute medley of two pieces, followed by an 18-minute one, and ends ...

UNEARTHED GEM

An uncut gem but still shining from 1981, Irène's Hot Four showcases a live Zürich jazz festival date when free jazz was at its wildest and wooliest period. The sizzling band included Swiss pianist Irène Schweizer (1941-2024), and German saxophonist-clarinetist-accordionist Rüdiger Carl, with added heat applied by Dutch drummer Han Bennink, plus South African bassist Johnny Dyani (1945-1986). The group/album name invokes the passion exhibited by earlier jazz combos, yet the performance mixes spontaneity with control. Carl's improvising encompasses tremolo accordion pumps and altissimo reed split tones or scooped squawks; Bennink smashes, slaps and shakes every idiophone available; and Schweizer's dynamic output includes linear expositions, emphasized glissandi and internal string judders. Only Dyani's string pumps and stops steady the program. This is especially evident when keyboard patterns and stabs approximated broken-chord freedom and boogie-woogie freneticism in turn.

The peak of all this intensity occurs on "All Inclusive', the extended pre-encore concert climax. As the saxophonist overblows harsh tones of bar-walking-style honks and triple tongued screams, Bennink responds in kind with rim shot clips and echoing pops augmented with triangle clanks, gearwheel ratchets, kazoo squeaks and megaphone-amplified yells; even the bassist augments his thumps and adds some sotte voce vocalizing. Switching from prestissimo chording with pseudo-ragtime syncopation to emphasize a swing groove, Schweizer (aided by Carl's flowing accordion wails) uses key stops and jerks to guide everyone into a rousing finish. Early and later amplification of heightened moments confirms the extreme malleability of the program. This also confirms how in-the-moment improvisations can moderate any excesses-usually on Bennink's part-to propel all timbres into group tandem evolution.

A dedicated champion of feminist responses to too-assertive male domination of free music, Schweizer, who passed away almost a year ago and would have been 84 this month, explored numerous avenues of creative sounds-both metered and completely spontaneous. This never-before-released performance remains one highpoint of her accommodation with ferocious free improvising.

Quinto disco per il quartetto del tenorsassofonista di Buffalo, con Aruán Ortiz al piano, Brad Jones al contrabbasso e Chad Taylor alla batteria. Al suono pieno, rotondo e grondante soulness del leader si aggiungono il pianismo acuto e puntuale del cubano e il lavoro cruciale della sezione ritmica, per un risultato avvolgente, tra enigmatici fumi melodici (Per 7), ballad torrenziali in memoria di grandi del jazz libero (Ware, per David S.Ware), semplicemente perfette nel loro incedere quasi da bolero (Even The Sparrow), oppure elegiache (Remember Rosalind). Più incalzante la title track, che comunque non perde di vista un cristallino sviluppo tematico, pur aprendosi a esplosioni che profumano di Coltrane. Da segnalare anche una versione piena di aria, vita e dramma di un numero di Mal Waldron (Left Alone), in un disco improntato a un classicismo personale, maturo, lirico, ispirato.

Splash is a new trio led by pianist and composer Myra Melford, featuring bassist Michael Formanek and drummer/vibraphonist Ches Smith. The project is the latest installment of Melford’s work inspired by post-abstract expressionist painter Cy Twombly. The sudden action implied by the trio’s name reflects the kinetic energy in Twombly’s paintings, making Splash a truly exciting debut; one can easily hear that without having seen Twombly’s art – although the painting from the Lepanto cycle on the album cover certainly suggests the vibrant abstractions within.

Melford has studied Twombly’s work since witnessing a major retrospective of his at the Museum of Modern Art three decades ago. Over the last several years, Melford has explored this interest with her quintet Fire and Water (named after a series of Twombly paintings); composed a set of Twombly-related music for MZM (a trio with harpist Zeena Parkins and koto player Miya Masaoka); and plans to investigate similar ideas with bassist Joëlle Léandre. Splash is Melford’s latest response to this artistic legacy, starting a new chapter in her august career as a bandleader.

Recalling her 1990s work with the collective Trio M (with bassist Mark Dresser and drummer Matt Wilson), Formanek and Smith are also renowned improvisers, composers, and bandleaders. Together with Melford, they evoke the dynamic volatility of Twombly’s work, but as alert listeners and adept accompanists their versatile range also facilitates chamberlike options, especially when Formanek plays arco and Smith switches to vibraphone. These occasional diversions yield a delicate beauty, flush with impressionistic filigrees and pointillist asides. Beyond such relief, Melford’s expansive compositions for this trio strike a balance between formal design and vivacious spontaneity.

Jagged lyricism contrasts with steady grooves on the opener, “Drift,” where Melford’s flinty cadences careen over the rhythm section’s driving momentum before a pneumatic unaccompanied bass interlude is complemented by luminous vibraphone and piano, followed by fervent improvisations on vibes and then drums over a mesmerizing piano vamp. The more experimental “The Wayward Line” follows with frenzied collective abstraction passing through reflective tonalities, culminating in a probing piano passage at a frantic tempo. “Freewheeler” similarly surges with unflagging force, before suddenly downshifting to highlight Smith’s dulcet vibraphone, which contrasts with the leader’s propulsive determination. “Streaming” kicks off with more rambunctious drumming and funky bass, while pirouetting piano melodies dance above, eventually joined by bowed bass and scintillating vibraphone.

Working in tandem, “A Line with a Mind of Its Own” finds bass and piano performing in parallel, while Smith plays drums with lock-step precision until a pliant piano solo unifies with a melodic line. Conversely, Formanek alternates between Melford and Smith on “Dryprint,” partnering with one then the other to contrast with the odd trio-mate out – it’s as striking an approach as Twombly’s brushwork. Likewise, three untitled “Interludes” scattered about the program each feature a different soloist, while the other two musicians work from a score. Providing final respite, “Chalk” closes the album with shimmering, neo-classical modality. Melford loops repeated pitch sets in repetitive patterns that change speeds, emulating a specific painting – “Untitled, 1970” – that features three coiled lines scrawled across a canvas.

As part of Melford’s continued investigation of Twombly’s work, her sonic interpretations of his visual art come not out of literal transposition, but through implied action. The relationship between Melford’s current music and Twombly’s oeuvre doesn’t need to be fully understood to appreciate it, but it wouldn’t exist in its current form without it. Melford gives her trio-mates ample interpretive freedom on Splash, and together they demonstrate expansive sonic palettes that are as searching and expressive as Twombly’s art.

https://www.pointofdeparture.org/PoD91/PoD91MoreMoments4.html

Irène Schweizer Lives On!
Last July the remarkable Swiss pianist Irène Schweizer died at the age of 83. She was a titan, a musician of serious depth and interests who ended up an invaluable feminist voice in the creative music world. I wrote a post looking at her work last year, but I’m delighted to share some additional words about her again, as last month Intakt released the first in a series of archival recordings featuring her playing. Irène’s Hot Four is a searing live album taped at the 1981 edition of Jazzfestival Zürich featuring a manifestation of her long-time partnership with reedist/accordionist Rüdiger Carl. The band is rounded out by drummer Han Bennink and double bassist Johnny Dyani, a founding member of South Africa’s Blue Notes. The group existed for about a year-and-a-half, playing only a handful of shows, including one the following night of this performance at Berlin Jazztage. In 2019 she met with the folks who founded the association the Friends of Irène Schweizer, which is devoted to her legacy and has partnered with Intakt to make some previously unreleased recordings available. If this stunning new release is any indication of what we can expect then we should all buckle in and welcome the ride. When the pianist heard this recording at that first 2019 meeting she said, “Nobody plays like this today,” but I think that’s more of a reflection on the individualism and vast experience of the four participants than a comment on the approach here, which is fully improvised.

Her comment certainly doesn’t mean this music sounds like it’s from the past. The four spontaneous tracks here are as electrifying, deep, and inspired as anything I’ve heard this year. It reflects the notion of a total music celebrated in Europe during the 1970s, where any style, approach, or ethos seemed fair game. The music is staunchly modern, but there’s an audible love and respect for tradition ripping underneath everything. The four musicians here engage in a thrilling exchange, routinely going against the prevalent grain one moment only to form a dazzling union the next. There are indelible Schwèizer trademarks, such as the rollicking left-handed figures that featuring heavily in the opening salvo “Reise,” a breathless 23-minute romp of give-and-take and ebb-and-flow endlessly powered by Bennink’s manic energy and the driving percussive for Dyani could unleash with his bass. Check it out below. Still, even though the sonic landscape here is constantly evolving, the band is incredibly locked-in and focused, not simply responding to the unceasing flow of ideas in real-time, but also straddling multiple themes or motifs at once. And although the performances are marked by serious heat and intensity, there’s also a palpable sense of ease and familiarity among the musicians, who all display a willingness to try different things, whether it’s Bennink delivering an exegesis on drumsticks-as-instrument in the opening minutes of “Freizeit” or the spontaneously soulful singing Dyani imparts on “All Inclusive.” Each improvisation is stuffed with contrasting ideas, radically changing timbres—as Carl switches between instruments and the pianist uses preparations—and internal challenges to one another. I don’t know if I’d agree with Schwèizer’s assessment that nobody plays like this today, but I sure wish more people would try! On the horizon in the series is a late 1980s solo performance and recordings from the Feminist Improvising Group—the radical ensemble formed by Maggie Nicols and Lindsay Cooper, which included the pianist for most of its history—the first officially released document of the ensemble’s work.

https://petermargasak.substack.com/p/insideoutside?r=3bsno&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&triedRedirect=true

Working through a series of tenor saxophonist Christoph Irniger’s compositions, the Swiss Pilgrim quintet uses this live session to personify its variant on contemporary improvisation. Well played with just a touch of extended techniques, the program is substantive, but not as daring as the audience – and possibly the musicians – considered. With the straight-ahead stance rarely breeched, forays into Rock-styled flanges from guitarist Dave Gisler and a few intense squeaks and split tones from Irniger appear to be carefully controlled departures, which underscore the linear nature of the tunes, Bassist Raffaele Bossard’s pizzicato variables usually take the form of low-key thumps, while pianist Stefan Aeby mostly concentrates on disciplined comping and coloring, with the same intent from drummer Michael Stulz’s smacks and thumps.

That means most tunes are propelled like “Emergency Exit”. Forward motion is emphasized, with moderated piano expressions widening into the melody, only slightly interrupted later on with reed honks, doubled drum pumps and expanded guitar licks. Only bisected with a few short interludes, this policy is followed pretty much throughout the set. Irniger’s reed flutters and expressive variations frequently fasten onto keyboard slides, which when joined by one or another of the players evolves with multiple counterpoint.

Intensity and emphasis are more extrusive when band members stretch out a little further as they do on “Calling the Spirits” and “Seven Down Eight Up”. The first is atmospheric enough to echo 1970s spiritual Jazz with piano syncopation and double bass buzzes preserving the broken octave evolution. This surface gives the saxophonist a base on which to express doits and honks while Gisler seems to alternate between chamber patterns and charged projections.

This seeming unwillingness to go beyond the limits of decorum affects the entire session even when as on “Seven Down Eight Up” it appears the five are prepared to go further. Effervescent with a stop-time exposition propelled by the pianist’s light-fingered groove and Bossard’s pizzicato variable, the pace picks up as intermittent bass thumps back Irniger’s note-bending ascends to intense double tonguing and near screeches seconded by the guitar’s blurred fingering flanges and Stefan Aeby’s double speed comping, The saxophonist though soon relaxes his outpourings joining with the pianist to repeat theme variations.

An adept night’s work for an appreciative audience, Human Intelligence clearly shows what this group of pilgrims offer in a live setting. A wish that this pilgrimage had been more challenging and move into unfamiliar territory exists however.

https://www.jazzword.com/reviews/christoph-irniger-pilgrim/

Mit Song Unconditional (Intakt CD 439) offeriert ALEXANDER HAWKINS, parallel zu „Two
for Keith“ im Duett mit Giovanni Maier, ein neues Piano-Solo. Als Tasten nach dem 'Unerhörten'
und Demo des Gekonnten. Sein Faible für Bartok, Janáček, Ligeti dabei so groß
wie sein Dank an Heroen wie Geri Allen, Maurizio Pollini, Cecil Taylor, Mal Waldron. Nach
zuletzt Tomeka Reid, Elaine Mitchener, Mulatu Astatke oder Sofia Jernberg als gesuchten
Herausforderungen bringt er nun 13 rhythmische Ideen oder harmonische Motive zum
Erklingen – polyphon, antiphonal, symmetrisch, variabel, ausbalanciert, verwirrt. Selbst
am Gegenpol zu den hingerissen schwärmenden Linernotes besticht, wie Hawkins sich da
in bedächtigem Hintersinn, kristalliner oder schattiger Kühle, ostinatem Drang, virtuoser
Verdichtung und zuletzt mit 'Song in Orbit' und '...of a Quiet Ecstatic' doppelt betonter
poetischer Demut in die vordringlichen unter seinen Möglichkeiten vertieft.

Working through a series of tenor saxophonist Christoph Irniger’s compositions, the Swiss Pilgrim quintet uses this live session to personify its variant on contemporary improvisation. Well played with just a touch of extended techniques, the program is substantive, but not as daring as the audience – and possibly the musicians – considered. With the straight-ahead stance rarely breeched, forays into Rock-styled flanges from guitarist Dave Gisler and a few intense squeaks and split tones from Irniger appear to be carefully controlled departures, which underscore the linear nature of the tunes, Bassist Raffaele Bossard’s pizzicato variables usually take the form of low-key thumps, while pianist Stefan Aeby mostly concentrates on disciplined comping and coloring, with the same intent from drummer Michael Stulz’s smacks and thumps.

That means most tunes are propelled like “Emergency Exit”. Forward motion is emphasized, with moderated piano expressions widening into the melody, only slightly interrupted later on with reed honks, doubled drum pumps and expanded guitar licks. Only bisected with a few short interludes, this policy is followed pretty much throughout the set. Irniger’s reed flutters and expressive variations frequently fasten onto keyboard slides, which when joined by one or another of the players evolves with multiple counterpoint.

Intensity and emphasis are more extrusive when band members stretch out a little further as they do on “Calling the Spirits” and “Seven Down Eight Up”. The first is atmospheric enough to echo 1970s spiritual Jazz with piano syncopation and double bass buzzes preserving the broken octave evolution. This surface gives the saxophonist a base on which to express doits and honks while Gisler seems to alternate between chamber patterns and charged projections.

This seeming unwillingness to go beyond the limits of decorum affects the entire session even when as on “Seven Down Eight Up” it appears the five are prepared to go further. Effervescent with a stop-time exposition propelled by the pianist’s light-fingered groove and Bossard’s pizzicato variable, the pace picks up as intermittent bass thumps back Irniger’s note-bending ascends to intense double tonguing and near screeches seconded by the guitar’s blurred fingering flanges and Stefan Aeby’s double speed comping, The saxophonist though soon relaxes his outpourings joining with the pianist to repeat theme variations.

An adept night’s work for an appreciative audience, Human Intelligence clearly shows what this group of pilgrims offer in a live setting. A wish that this pilgrimage had been more challenging and move into unfamiliar territory exists however.

https://www.jazzword.com/reviews/christoph-irniger-pilgrim/

Splash is a new trio led by pianist and composer Myra Melford, featuring bassist Michael Formanek and drummer/vibraphonist Ches Smith. The project is the latest installment of Melford’s work inspired by post-abstract expressionist painter Cy Twombly. The sudden action implied by the trio’s name reflects the kinetic energy in Twombly’s paintings, making Splash a truly exciting debut; one can easily hear that without having seen Twombly’s art – although the painting from the Lepanto cycle on the album cover certainly suggests the vibrant abstractions within.

Melford has studied Twombly’s work since witnessing a major retrospective of his at the Museum of Modern Art three decades ago. Over the last several years, Melford has explored this interest with her quintet Fire and Water (named after a series of Twombly paintings); composed a set of Twombly-related music for MZM (a trio with harpist Zeena Parkins and koto player Miya Masaoka); and plans to investigate similar ideas with bassist Joëlle Léandre. Splash is Melford’s latest response to this artistic legacy, starting a new chapter in her august career as a bandleader.

Recalling her 1990s work with the collective Trio M (with bassist Mark Dresser and drummer Matt Wilson), Formanek and Smith are also renowned improvisers, composers, and bandleaders. Together with Melford, they evoke the dynamic volatility of Twombly’s work, but as alert listeners and adept accompanists their versatile range also facilitates chamberlike options, especially when Formanek plays arco and Smith switches to vibraphone. These occasional diversions yield a delicate beauty, flush with impressionistic filigrees and pointillist asides. Beyond such relief, Melford’s expansive compositions for this trio strike a balance between formal design and vivacious spontaneity.

Jagged lyricism contrasts with steady grooves on the opener, “Drift,” where Melford’s flinty cadences careen over the rhythm section’s driving momentum before a pneumatic unaccompanied bass interlude is complemented by luminous vibraphone and piano, followed by fervent improvisations on vibes and then drums over a mesmerizing piano vamp. The more experimental “The Wayward Line” follows with frenzied collective abstraction passing through reflective tonalities, culminating in a probing piano passage at a frantic tempo. “Freewheeler” similarly surges with unflagging force, before suddenly downshifting to highlight Smith’s dulcet vibraphone, which contrasts with the leader’s propulsive determination. “Streaming” kicks off with more rambunctious drumming and funky bass, while pirouetting piano melodies dance above, eventually joined by bowed bass and scintillating vibraphone.

Working in tandem, “A Line with a Mind of Its Own” finds bass and piano performing in parallel, while Smith plays drums with lock-step precision until a pliant piano solo unifies with a melodic line. Conversely, Formanek alternates between Melford and Smith on “Dryprint,” partnering with one then the other to contrast with the odd trio-mate out – it’s as striking an approach as Twombly’s brushwork. Likewise, three untitled “Interludes” scattered about the program each feature a different soloist, while the other two musicians work from a score. Providing final respite, “Chalk” closes the album with shimmering, neo-classical modality. Melford loops repeated pitch sets in repetitive patterns that change speeds, emulating a specific painting – “Untitled, 1970” – that features three coiled lines scrawled across a canvas.

As part of Melford’s continued investigation of Twombly’s work, her sonic interpretations of his visual art come not out of literal transposition, but through implied action. The relationship between Melford’s current music and Twombly’s oeuvre doesn’t need to be fully understood to appreciate it, but it wouldn’t exist in its current form without it. Melford gives her trio-mates ample interpretive freedom on Splash, and together they demonstrate expansive sonic palettes that are as searching and expressive as Twombly’s art.

https://www.pointofdeparture.org/PoD91/PoD91MoreMoments4.html