THE GIG

Occupy the World

Karsten Moran for The New York Times

Wadada Leo Smith 70th Birthday Celebration

Roulette, Dec. 16

One More Once: Last Thoughts

Part Eight of a year-end email conversation with Angelika Beener, Aaron Cohen, Joe Tangari and K. Leander Williams. (Jump to: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 )

From: Nate Chinen

Hey gang,

 What a terrific way to wind down the year. I’m grateful to all of you for agreeing to take part in this roundtable — and for bringing so much of substance to the exchange! You really made this a pleasure. Here’s my grasping attempt to close shop. Hang tight, this may be a #longread.

 The issue of Arts & Leisure now sitting on your doorsteps (right, guys?) contains my Top 10, along with those of Ben Ratliff and the indefatigable Jons (Pareles, Caramanica). Aaron, you noted the inclusion of tUnE-yArDs’ whokill on my list. Merrill Garbus, the in-your-face dynamo at the center of that band, crammed so much into this record — Afropop rhythm, jangly harmony, vocals that bark or purr — that it can be easy to miss its jazz moorings.

Her bassist is Nate Brenner, who was raised by an old-fashioned boogie-woogie pianist and then trained at Oberlin; he’s the only other full-time member of tUnE-yArDs, and had a hand in writing some of the songs on whokill.

 This stealth jazz influence was a big feature in some other highly touted releases this year: Bon Iver’s Bon Iver, which is up for Album of the Year; St. Vincent’s Strange Mercy; The Roots’ undun (dig that Don Pullenesque freakout by D.D. Jackson, with attendant ?uestlove fire); even, as Angelika noted, the gilt-armored hip-hop opus Watch the Throne. My current JazzTimes column (analog edition) discusses this phenomenon at length. You can also hear me discuss it with Ben Ratliff on a year-end Popcast. (He begs to differ re: tUnE-yArDs.)

 Speaking of Ben and lists, did you notice what he did this year? High up on his Top 10 is an hourlong set recorded live at 713-->212: Houstonians in NYC, the 92YTriBeCa show that Angelika also mentioned as a highlight. “When it ended,” Ben writes of this high-kinesis jam, “I felt that it said so much about where jazz is now — inasmuch as it is black music, popular music, regional music, improvised music and a philosophy of play — that I didn’t need to hear any more for a while.” (Parenthetically, he adds: “If we can call it an album, it’s a better extended statement than most I heard this year.”)

 Which raises a good question: is the album, as a discrete delivery system, still the best way to adjudicate success in jazz? Do the top-albums lists that we all pore over (Kelvin, you’re the rare exception) really tell us what happened over the past year? Obviously I don’t entirely think so, which is why we’re all here. But I want to use Houstonians in NYC as a springboard for another assertion, about how jazz at its best is the direct product of a social context, a cultural milieu, a moment in time. A scene, in other words. This may sound obvious, but it’s something we (critics and musicians) often take for granted. The music doesn’t emerge from a vacuum. Our perceptions of the music don’t, either.

 This point was born out time and again in 2011. Consider the bonds of brotherhood on Captain Black Big Band, which some of you have mentioned; consider the spirit of inquiry on Miguel Zenón’s Alma Adentro. Consider the vitality of the Chicago scene, invoked by Aaron and ratified by Joe. Or look no further than the wise and pointed assertions made by Geri Allen, in that Alternate Takes interview.

 Well, maybe look a little further. Aaron has a great new book out as part of the 33⅓ series, in which he lays out the social climate and cultural environment surrounding Aretha Franklin’s landmark album Amazing Grace. (I really am preaching to the choir here, so to speak.)

Another new book that smartly unearths the context around the music is Love Goes to Buildings on Fire, by Will Hermes. Its subtitle is “Five Years in New York City That Changed Music Forever,” with a timeframe of 1973 to 1977. Most reviewers have naturally fixated on the Modern Lovers, Patti Smith and Grandmaster Flash (not to mention Springsteen, Dylan, Byrne) — but there’s a lot of good stuff in there about the loft scene, the post-Coltrane avant-garde, and the early stirrings of salsa. David Murray figures into the narrative. So does Lester Bowie, and Eddie Palmieri. Jazz folk should know about this.

 I think the issue of social context is one reason why we all feel a little weird about Jazz at Lincoln Center hanging a shingle in Qatar. What could be less organic than that? I’m not implying that good things won’t happen; as we know from many years of State Department subsidy, jazz has a way of winning people over across the globe. Still, this is the work of an institution expanding its footprint on luxury terms, which is why it feels less like Pops at the pyramids than like the opening of a new Bulgari flagship. Or, worse, like this:

 Sheesh, I’ve gone on too long. One more thing: if we weren’t all invested in the notion of a jazz community, why would the challenges posed by a Nicholas Payton register so strongly, and spark such heated response? Why would we all argue so intently about so much? I’m among those who feel that the Year of the Cannibal, as I tagged it at the beginning of this exchange, actually reflects a defiantly thriving culture, with all the crosstalk and controversy that comes with it.

 Last night I saw the Claudia Quintet +1 with Kurt Elling at Cornelia Street Café, unpacking material from their scintillating album What is the Beautiful? (Cuneiform). At the beginning of the set, drummer-bandleader John Hollenbeck dedicated the evening’s performance to Bob Brookmeyer, one of the dearly departed elders of our tribe. It was heartfelt and true.

 And on that bittersweet note, I’ll simply add that this roundtable has been edifying and inspiring — and totally free of name-calling! — and that I hope to resume the thread in person sometime, with each of y’all. See you out there on the grid, and here’s wishing everyone Happy Holidays, and all the best in 2012.

 yrs,

 Nate

Trillium in Bloom

Photo by Kyoko Kitamura

This week brings the Tri-Centric Festival, an omnibus showcase for composer-multireedist Anthony Braxton, at the new Roulette in Brooklyn. I wrote a piece previewing the event, after spending some time with Braxton recently, and much more time with his music. 

One thing I’d been wondering about was whether Braxton sensed a greater acceptance of his music in recent years, after the warm glow of Wesleyan’s season-long tribute in 2005; the subsequent release of major multi-disc sets like The Complete Arista Recordings and 9 Compositions (Iridium) 2006; and the ardent testimonials of his disciples. Well, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Braxton ordered a glass of white wine as we sat down to our interview, and proceeded not to touch it for the next hour. He’s an energetic conversationalist, quick to oblige any request for clarification. Here’s what he had to say about misperceptions surrounding his work:

Another Slice of Pi

Ruby Washington / The New York Times

There was plenty of good information, and at least one terrific cosmic gag, that couldn’t make it into today’s feature about Pi Recordings. Some of that material was too granularly, and would have been a drag on the flow of the piece. Some of it was of dubious interest to a civilian readership. But you’re here now, so let’s get into it, after the jump. 

Roscoe Mitchell's Day Off

If you're reading this, you probably know it's a busy time for jazz. So I'll keep this brief. On Sunday evening at 6 p.m., I'll be moderating a conversation with saxophonist, composer and AACM heavyweight Roscoe Mitchell, at Settlement Music School in Philadelphia. The talk (which is free) will precede an 8 p.m. performance by his Sound Ensemble (which isn't). It's part of a weekend-long Mitchell residency, within a larger AACM series, presented by Ars Nova Workshop. 

Roscoe Mitchell is, of course, a fiercely individual thinker and creative force, and while I haven't yet had the honor of interviewing him, I have heard him speak on a few occasions. The most memorable of these was during a symposium in Guelph, Ontario, in 2005. That was for a 40th-anniversary celebration for the AACM; during the same weekend, Mitchell also performed with the Art Ensemble of Chicago and in duo with Pauline Oliveros. (I wrote about it in JazzTimes.) 

Incidentally, the other night I was at the Vision Festival speaking with Yulun Wang of Pi Recordings, which has released albums by the Art Ensemble as well as Mitchell's collaboration with two fellow AACM stalwarts, pianist Muhal Richard Abrams and George Lewis. The subject of AACM commemoration came up, and I naturally mentioned the classic John Hughes film Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Yulun didn't know what I was talking about, which led me to believe that this bit of trivia might not be as well-known as I'd thought. 

A few years ago this movie was on TV and I caught a little detail in the Chicago parade scene above. Look at the banners that go by during Matthew Broderick's slow ride on the float. It's hard to make out in this grainy YouTube transfer, but they read "AACM 20," next to an image of a bassist -- Fred Hopkins? Anyone have the DVD? Anyone?

This makes sense, as the movie was filmed in 1985, when the city of Chicago would have been celebrating the AACM's 20th anniversary. So we have serendipity and location shooting to thank for the only mention of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians in a top-grossing Hollywood movie. (Of course I'm not counting the Anthony Braxton cameo, as a blackjack dealer, in Ocean's 12.)

 No, I do not plan on discussing this with Roscoe Mitchell. 

While we're on the subject of jazz commemoration, though, I should also note that tomorrow, Saturday, marks the 15th annual Jazz Journalists Association Jazz Awards. It's at City Winery, and I believe tickets are still available. In addition to the bestowing of awards, the event will feature performances by Randy Weston, Wallace Roney, Gregory Porter, Jane Bunnett and others. I'll be there. How about you?

Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? ...Bueller? ...Bueller?

Take the High Road

Playlist, May 8

Gerald Clayton, Blind Boys of Alabama,

Muhal Richard Abrams, Liturgy, Ari Hoenig

Hitting the Road

Part Four of a year-end email conversation with Andrey Henkin, Peter Margasak, Ben Ratliff and Hank Shteamer. (Jump to: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 )  

From: Andrey Henkin

 

 

Dear Nate, Ben, Hank and Peter,

I’m glad I got a later slot in this Algonquin round email. I could simply react to what everyone else has said thus far. I agree wholeheartedly with Peter in his assessment of Chicago. Having made my first trip out there for the Umbrella Music Festival in early November, I was impressed by the sort of community-building that scene of musicians engages in, something I find woefully lacking in New York.

Sure, there are circles of musicians here but I find far too few porous borders (let me book The Stone for a month and I’d bring together some interesting first-time collaborations: Peter Evans/Jeremy Pelt duo, anyone?). That said, since Obama has already displayed a penchant for plugging his adopted home state -- be it through the Olympics debacle or the just-announced plan to move Guantanamo inmates to a Northern Illinois prison -- he should listen to Peter and invite somebody new to play at the White House. My vote? The Peter Brötzmann Chicago Tentet (above). With Chicagoans, Germans and Scandinavians, it seems a perfect band to reinforce the notion of global engagement. What would Steven Colbert have to say about that, I wonder? (One other note on Chicago: Muhal Richard Abrams/Fred Anderson duo as part of the AACM concert series...one of my gigs of the year.)

 And using Umbrella as a jumping-off point, let me also echo praise lavished on Akira Sakata (left). I knew his work through Yosuke Yamashita mainly but had the chance to see him twice this year, once in Sweden in March and then at Umbrella. Both times he played with his trio of bassist Darin Gray and drummer Chris Corsano. Nate mentioned sax trios... this is the best one out there for my money. Playing free jazz well is tapping into something internal and Sakata-san has an unending wellspring.

And Chris Corsano is a drummer exemplifying musicians not limiting themselves to jazz or noise or whatever. Any of us who saw his trio with Evan Parker and Nate Wooley at The Stone in October should agree.

Segueing from Japan to debuts, check out Nobuyasu Furuya’s sax trio on Clean Feed, Bendowa. The Portuguese label releases so much and from so many high-profile artists, a disc like this can get overlooked. Darius Jones’ album was a remarkably mature debut. I forget who described him as coming out “fully formed” but I think that is an accurate assessment. And as Hank mentioned, tapping Cooper-Moore and Rakalam Bob Moses was inspired. So much so that when the band played at the AUM Fidelity showcase at Abrons Arts Center in October, Moses’ absence (replaced by the younger and more frenetic Jason Nazary) was too much for the band to overcome. And lastly on the debut thread, after years of being so impressed by John Hebert’s deliciously open concept of bass playing (learned at the proverbial knee of Andrew Hill), his debut Byzantine Monkey was a dynamic first statement.

Håkon Kornstad is probably the most interesting saxist out there these days in terms of the breadth of his projects. The duo with Ingebrigt Håker Flaten was remarkable and Dwell Time just as much. He recently played that music live at Monkeytown (which is really growing on me as a venue for this kind of music), and I am most captivated by an “avant-garde” saxist who appreciates and strives for beauty above all else:

Not to bring things down, but one instance of the supergroup that disappointed me greatly this year was the Five Peace Band, with Chick Corea and John McLaughlin. I heard the record and wasn’t very impressed and live at Jazz at Lincoln Center in April (a booking nearly as surprising as Ornette Coleman), the band seemed flat in the way only fusion bands can, which is to say, hyperactive yet hypoglycemic. Maybe Corea was tired from non-stop touring for the last couple of years but what’s McLaughlin’s excuse? Why can’t such an amazing player finally find a project that will make everyone forget about the Mahavishnu Orchestra? 

As we enter a new decade, I am encouraged by all the labels supporting jazz and “related configurations”, to borrow an WBAI term, like the aforementioned Clean Feed, Intakt, Kadima Collective, No Business and even a resurgent ECM (great albums by Miroslav Vitous, John Surman, Evan Parker) as I am saddened by New York’s demotion in terms of “Jazz Capital of the World.” In January, I am making a trip to Philadelphia to see the Circulasione Totale Orchestra, who are skipping New York on a small tour, as do most traveling musicians. Club bookers either draw from the same pool of musicians or we have the curator model, which is nice but hardly inclusive. 

Tonic remains empty and festivals held in small Austrian villages outclass anything we have here. I never have a problem choosing my Shows of the Year but find myself looking forward more and more to trips out of town.

Midwest Represent: Scrambling Purity, Fiercely Independent

Part Three of a year-end email conversation with Andrey Henkin, Peter Margasak, Ben Ratliff and Hank Shteamer. (Jump to: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 )

 

From: Peter Margasak

 

 

Dear Nate, Ben, Andrey and Hank,

I’ll echo Hank’s delight in engaging in this exchange. Turning back to Nate’s question about Esperanza and Babs... only the former strikes me as truly noteworthy, but I’m disappointed that Obama keeps inviting back the same musician. It’s exciting to see jazz get such a platform, but there are plenty of other worthy (dare I say, far more interesting) folks that should get the call from here on out.

I’m happy that the Lewis went into paperback this year, further extending its impact. As the sole participant here that doesn’t live in New York, I’m always happy to see Chicago get some props, even if Lewis and Threadgill haven’t lived here in decades; the city’s fiercely independent spirit lives on, certainly through the music of Lehman and Iyer (who, along with Threadgill, all landed in my top five albums). While big name organizations in Chicago, from the city-sponsored Jazz Festival to Symphony Center, draw the local media attention, what really matters in this city is increasingly the responsibility of musicians. All but one of the presenters behind Umbrella Music -- a loose constellation of three strong weekly series -- is a musician, and this year they curated their best festival yet, and probably the most exciting week in the city’s adventurous music calendar. These guys know that no one is going to give them anything for nothing, so they tend the garden themselves, and it’s been paying off.  

   It’s also nice to see some of the best groups from Chicago -- Josh Berman’s Old Idea, Jason Adasiewicz’s Rolldown, James Falzone’s Klang, Mike Reed’s People, Places & Things -- getting noticed by New Yorkers. I’m still thrilled and mildly shocked that Ken Vandermark (right) played some gigs in a quartet with Eric Revis, Jason Moran, and Nasheet Waits a few months back.

I suppose related to the early achievements of the AACM is the continued scrambling and/or disregard to any kind of purity, whether it’s a drummer like Tyshawn Sorey writing post-Feldman guitar music or the wonderfully bizarre amalgam of heavy metal, cracked bluegrass, and shambling funk by the Seabrook Power Plant. Maybe this is an irrelevant point as the present decade comes to its conclusion, but I’m consistently encouraged and excited as the flung open doors are torn off their hinges and the openings keep widening. Why the hell not? The problem with this reality in our profession (knock on wood that I can keep calling it that) is that more and more music falls off the “jazz” map, meaning that the radars of so many writers only go so far -- present company excluded, natch -- so that lots of the most interesting stuff, especially if it’s produced outside of New York, is largely invisible. Most jazz from outside of the US suffers the same problem -- if we don’t hear great music from Germany (Die Enttäuschung, pictured below; Christian Lillinger), Sweden (Jonas Kullhammar, Alberto Pinton) or Japan (Akira Sakata, Otomo Yoshihide) does that mean it doesn’t exist? And that’s always the rub about year-end considerations -- I mostly get frustrated about the music I still haven’t heard rather than rating the records I have.

 

 

So many records, so many shows, so many musicians. Although I don’t want to reopen the Terry Teachout jazz is dead can o’ worms, I’ve never seen such a crushing deluge of new music. Yes, much of it is boilerplate, but there are still countless musicians really pushing. I’m still lucky enough to able to buy records at real record stores (Jazz Record Mart, Dusty Groove), but I can’t deny that I’ve taken advantage of downloading to further add to the pile of music. I’ve spent more and more time thinking, “Where do I draw the line?” I take a certain pride in trying to be comprehensive, but it’s getting harder.

I’m not sure if Nate was referring to me when he mentioned Norwegian jazz, but I’ll take the bait. I too love the duo of Håkon Kornstad and Ingebrigt Håker Flaten, but they’ve yet to perform out here. But I also dig Kornstad’s recent solo sax album Dwell Time, and he seems to be getting better at developing an original language through simple looping effects. I had the chance to hear him do the same thing in a gorgeous duet with singer Sidsel Endresen -- a one-time ECM folk-jazz singer who’s experiencing a mid-life radicalism, unleashing incredible, all-improvised vocal performances, both solo and with this saxophonist -- that defied categorization, a quality that so much of the best Norwegian stuff exhibits. Atomic didn’t release a record, but its powerhouse drummer Paal Nilssen-Love blew my mind in a trio called OffOnOff with electric guitarist Terri Ex (of the Ex) and bassist Massimo Pupillo (of Zu) that turned churning free improv/noise and gut-punching grooves into the most physical, fantastically brutal concert I saw all year. They have two good records, but they’re impotent next to the live experience.

I feel like I’m rambling a little, which is an indirect way of writing that I didn’t observe any clear consensus or dominant thread over the last year. I also feel like so much of my favorite music is increasingly genre-averse. I mean, I like and appreciate Eric Alexander as much as the next person, but I get more excited by head scratchers like the Tyondai Braxton solo record, the electro-acoustic improv web that David Sylvian croons through on Manafon, or Vijay Iyer reshaping “Galang,” as shown here:

It may not all be strictly jazz, but it all evolves from a kindred spirit of experimentation, individual voices, and curiosity that’s always characterized much of the best jazz, and lots of musicians seem increasingly fluid in their collaborations and interactions.

A Gate-Crashing Year

Part One of a year-end email conversation with Andrey Henkin, Peter Margasak, Ben Ratliff and Hank Shteamer. (Jump to: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7| 8 )

From: Nate Chinen

 

Dear Andrey, Ben, Hank and Peter, 

Thanks for taking time out of your perennial list-making to kick around a few ideas about the year in jazz. (I’m not going to capitalize that phrase.) I’ve always been a big fan of the Slate Music Club, as spearheaded by Jody Rosen, and after complaining for some time about the absence of a jazz equivalent, I thought it would be fun and fitting to cobble one together. Just one thing, guys: this is a No Lady GaGa Zone. Unless you also mention Sun Ra. 

Thus stipulated, I’ll open with a rhetorical question. Which did you expect to see first in this lifetime: Barbra Streisand at the Village Vanguard, or Esperanza Spalding at the Nobel Peace Prize ceremony? Somehow we got both this year, and I’m not sure which event had the tougher guest list. At the Vanguard, Streisand made a nervous quip about the tight dimensions of the stage. In Oslo, our 44th President made a (nervous?) comment about being “at the beginning, and not the end, of my labors on the world stage.” Can’t help but wonder whether Spalding felt a twinge of recognition there. Also, can’t help but share this, courtesy of Jimmy Kimmel Live:

 

Tabloid angle aside, this was a gate-crashing year, whether we’re talking about the White House, where Spalding has appeared at least twice, or the House of Swing, where I witnessed several thunderous ovations for the eminent Ornette Coleman, a once-unthinkable season opener for Jazz at Lincoln Center. (It was his first-ever JALC concert, a so-what fact except that it seemed to mean something to all parties involved.) And up in Newport, George Wein effectively crashed his own festival, or at least that’s how it felt.

This was also the year that George Lewis, from his perch in the music department at Columbia University, finally published A Power Stronger Than Itself: The AACM and American Experimental Music, a book about the challenges to convention made by a highly individualized collective. (Or maybe that should be “highly collectivized individuals” -- past a certain point, the distinction blurs.)

My two top jazz releases happened to be by Steve Lehman, an occasional teaching assistant to Lewis, and alto/flutist Henry Threadgill, a member of the AACM’s first wave. Coming in at a close third was Vijay Iyer, who could safely be pegged as part of the association’s extended family. (And I know that as regards admiration for Iyer’s record, I’m not the only one here.)

Maybe I’m just thinking about institutions and incursions because of another big piece of reading: Last week I popped into the Strand and bought Pops, Terry Teachout’s long-awaited Louis Armstrong biography. Really good so far, as expected, but I find it striking that Page 1 presents a survey of New York’s changing “cultural map” in 1956, vis-à-vis high-art complexes like the Guggenheim and Lincoln Center. It’s a strange way to begin a Satchmo book, except as a form of orientation: Teachout really knows that landscape, and he understands the tensions inherent in Armstrong’s presence there. 

 

 

Speaking of important jazz books and once-inscrutable jazz heroes, you could argue that the year began and ended with revisionist Monk. Back in February we all braced ourselves for Jason Moran’s In My Mind, a conceptual gamble that turned out to be soulful as well as smart. Moran gave us a Monk of lucid ambition and shrewd humor and tangible Southern roots -- a humane vision of the man that Robin Kelley has now articulated even more clearly.

What else? Ben, as you’ve noted, there was also something in the water this year that gave us one outstanding saxophone trio record after another. Marcus Strickland and J.D. Allen both found admirable focus in the format (though on further reflection, Allen’s entry was the sequel to an analogous 2008 release). I reviewed both Allen and Strickland live, and damned if I know which show wins. I do know that another tenor trio, FLY, which earned a spot in my Top 5 album berth, practically levitated at the Jazz Standard during an April stand. (That set made yet another list of mine: Top 10 gigs, for JazzTimes.)

I haven’t mentioned jazz’s incipient rhythm revolution, or the crumbling media infrastructure (and attendant blog awakening), or the postmillennial big band renaissance, or the great jazz audience debate. I haven’t mentioned any Norwegians. But take this in whatever direction you like, guys. No one will be calling the Jazz Police (not literally, in any case).