Railroader Reviews

I’m writing from the train that’s taking me to Montreal for a week of work on Joane Hétu’s Récits de Neige project, the third in her Musique D’Hiver triptych, to be performed this coming weekend at Théâtre La Chapelle. Thus, this is my first full week away from ST since it opened, and I’m sad to be missing this week’s program: Christine Duncan’s Element Choir on Wednesday; the return of Kyle Brenders’s seven-piece Ensemble on Thursday (to close out his residency); and HuffLigNon, a chamber jazz project by New York-based Canadian saxophonist, Peter Van Huffel, on Saturday. I’m also very grateful to Joe Sorbara, who is presiding in my stead.

This past week has again featured some very fine music, starting with the Element Choir, with Idiolalla (Christine, DB Boyko, Jean Martin) in support, on Wednesday. The trio played just one piece, sandwiched between choral sets, and it was striking how it galvanized the choir following their rather tentative opener. The sheer physicality of DB’s and Christine’s delivery seemed to grant the choristers permission to pursue the same, much to the benefit of the last set, and the contrast between them – Christine mostly digging down and DB sailing overtop – reinforced how utterly dynamic this pair is. They shared conduction duties and their dance-like flurry of signals surely caused some confusion within the ranks, though it left the singers intriguingly to their own intuitive devices, and resulted in some marvelously unpredictable responses through the improvising.

(A heads-up: My favourite Bramptonian, Maestro Ricardo Marsella, has enlisted me to curate the “Rotundus Maximus” series at the Brampton Indie Arts Festival, and I’ve given all of Wednesday 13 February to Christine and the Choir. My shortlist of things for which it’s worth braving 400-series highways includes hearing this squad in the Rose Theatre Rotunda.)

Thursday, Kyle Brenders brought in his trio with bassist Rob Clutton and drummer Brandon Valdivia, a group that, to my ears, paints the clearest picture of Kyle’s vision as a composer and bandleader. Their first set was dominated by a version the modular, episodic “Flow Line Follow Line Flow,” a signature piece that has had performed by Kyle’s septet and the AIMToronto Orchestra as well. The crispness of response by Rob and Brandon beautifully animated what can be a fairly static, unexpressive piece. The trio’s second set was comprised of shorter, diverse, perhaps more idiomatic pieces of which “Black Bile,” a quirky blues fantasy with a nifty palindromic form, was most memorable.

Rob was back again, much to my delight, on Saturday night with his Cluttertones, one of the first groups to have played at ST back in September. To my mind, the band fits the spirit and scope of the place perfectly, and everyone in the band – Rob, Tim Posgate on banjo and guitar, Lina Allemano on trumpet, Ryan Driver on synth, melodica, and voice – clearly revels in the chance to play here. Rob’s writing is deeply wrought and so very personal, and pieces like “Lion and Ant,” featuring Ryan’s fragile vocal delivery, left at least a few of us in tears. Gracefully, Rob followed up with the delightful “Porch,” a whimsical, almost faux-naïf diatonic swing tune that seems tailor-made for Tim’s banjo, with Ryan’s demented melodica comping as a brilliant foil. Lina’s burnished-toned trumpet solo went from singing to sputtering and back again, but it’s her reiteration of Rob’s wonderful melody on the out-head that I haven’t been able to stop humming.

Real Free Jazz & Fake New Age

Unlike some recent ST residencies of note, the Element Choir and Nilan Perera’s holyblueghost, Kyle Brenders’s residency hasn’t consistently featured one group and, instead, seems designed primarily with variety in mind. Likely, the no-mean-feat task of getting his players to commit for a string of Thursdays has factored into this decision. However, like his teacher and one of music’s great polymaths, Anthony Braxton, Kyle does well by emphasizing his range of strengths, skills, and musical vision. So, it was no surprise to move from the disciplined, rather earnest silences of his Ensemble one week – see here for my report – to the over-the-top excesses of his Double Trio this past Thursday.

For the first set, Kyle formed subgroup duets according to instrumentation: Bassists Michael Owen Liston and Aaron Lumley, drummers Brandon Valdivia and (Vancouverite guest) Dan Gaucher, and he and tenorist Colin Fisher. Though altogether more demonstrative than anything that happened a week earlier, these had the somewhat polite feel of a warm-up, and it wasn’t until the subsequent small group when Fisher, Lumley, and (in particular) Brandon Valdivia started generating some real heat.

The second set was a full double-trio blowout, and less interesting for it, since the expanded group found most common ground in fairly idiomatic free jazz conventions; several times, before and after long, loud solos, they defaulted to the static timbral soup that William Parker, at his U of T workshop a year ago, mockingly called “the avant-garde drone.” Regardless, there was still much to enjoy, especially Kyle’s alto playing that, at times, evoked Joe McPhee’s soulful Ayler-on-alto bray that featured so prominently during Joe’s September 2006 Interface Series. The contrast between drummers was equally stimulating, with the amazingly fleet Valdivia zipping around and animating Gaucher’s more deliberate, rock-ish gestures. And, in case there is any doubt, it all got pretty damn loud.

Saturday night, as promised, featured the Fake New Age Music Band, and I was pleasantly surprised to have Josh Thorpe, Jason Benoit, and Allison Cameron open for them. I hadn’t heard this trio play before and, despite the constantly brilliant sounds that Allison was getting out of her cheapo electronic keyboard and pedals, it took awhile to overcome my initially skeptical response to the set. They seemed to adhere to an approach that prizes a rather self-conscious brand of noodling, perhaps as a way to side-step straightforwardly ‘responsive’ responses, and the results seemed all too haphazard at first. By the second piece, though, I’d discovered a fairly exquisite coherence in it all, and all of the disparate internal details came duly to collective life. Josh’s guitar playing is beautifully subdued, though my highlight came when he stepped out with an episode of controlled feedback with which Allison, then on her amazing electric toy saxophone, entered into a momentarily mind-bending dialogue.

The New Agers, however, seemed to have a hard time finding any such dialogue (if that was indeed a goal – the project seems perverse enough that I’d be foolish to assume so) and mostly the trio's music skirted around on the surface of things for their shortish set. Ryan Driver was amazing on thumb reeds – which he played exclusively – as he responded occasionally but generally contrasted with the ‘sounds of nature’ furnished by Andrew Wedman on records, CDs and sundry electronics. A brief episode of thumb-reed birdsong mimicry was totally breathtaking. Michael Keith picked his spots on his acoustic guitar but occasionally seemed at a loss in the face of Ryan’s inscrutability as an improviser. The set ended oddly and abruptly, leaving a further disjointed edge to the music; this could well have been intentional, though they may have simply been good-naturedly throwing in the towel for this one.

Turn It Up

The music at ST has been growing steadily louder all week, and I’d be getting worried if a group called Fake New Age Music Band, slated for Saturday night, didn’t promise a timely ebb.  It started Tuesday night when flutist Rob Piilonen and saxophonist Colin Fisher, two members of the curatorial team at Leftover Daylight, launched a CD of their Whisper project – quiet music by guys who rarely play quiet music.

I’ve listened to (and played with) Rob and Colin a ton, so it was interesting to hear them improvise within the confines of a concept defined primarily by quiet dynamics. I was struck by how, for the few pieces they played together to start the evening, they used essentially the same kind and intensity of gesture as always, just with the volume turned down. Rob punctuated repetitive, quasi-harmonic motives with tiny blasts of untempered sound, while Colin clucked and wuffled tiny shards of musical potential in a continuous, energetic stream. It was clear how utterly consistent these two are, taking cues from each other in turn, finding useful solutions to workaday musical problems. Guests Joe Sorbara, Aaron Lumley, Nilan Perera and I joined Whisper for a cheerful round robin of music that, if not always quiet, was certainly more methodical than typical ad hoc playing.

The first set on Wednesday night – part of Christine Duncan’s Element Choir residency – was comparably methodical, but was brought brilliantly to life by the sheer spirit of those involved. Vocalists Duncan and Sienna Dahlen (who also did some looping and processing of her voice) were joined by bassist Scott Peterson and local wizard of miscellany, Michelangelo Iaffaldano. I’d guess that this is a new working ensemble, gauging from the success of the music and the enthusiasm in the aftermath from the group members. The unquestionable highlight was Christine’s ripping, wordless blues-belter solo midway that (despite her head-cold) energized what had been, to that point, a lovely but rather staid opening to the set. Regardless, the internal dialogues in particular between Scott’s bass and Michelangelo’s… uh… stuff kept plenty of momentum throughout.   Truly top-tier improvisation.

I am enjoying Christine’s choir residency tremendously, since it embodies all of the things I’d imagined the residencies could do. Despite lots of turnover in personnel week to week, there’s a core of singers with whom, through the consistency of regular performance, Christine is forging a very warm and responsive rapport. The music is markedly better each week, to my ears, as Christine refines her skills as a conductor and leader – ‘encourager’ would be an apt handle.

The mix of Christine’s university-level students and enthusiastic amateurs (in the literal, French sense) in the group is a functional one that blends chops and spirit nicely, and allows for healthy and enjoyable blend of whimsy and earnestness. Everyone’s clearly having a splendid time, but nobody doubts that music-making is the real task at hand, which Christine makes absolutely clear by her presence alone. I’m amazed that more haven’t come out to hear this remarkable group so far. To evoke the best of jazz brochure rhetoric, this group is simply not to be missed.

Expect a follow-up from Kyle Brenders’s lively (and extremely loud, upping-the-ante) Double Trio set last night (Thursday) in the next little while.

CIA Festival, another listen (then and now)

On Saturday night, tenor saxophonist and Creative Improviser's Assembly (CIA) Festival organizer Glen Hall played for the first time at ST, and led a nine-piece assembly called Big Sound that included Ken Aldcroft, Evan Shaw, Bruce Cassidy, Michael Morse, Joe Sorbara, David Story, Ronda Rindone and myself.  Rarely did the music reach its prescribed bigness since at least half of the players laid out extensively.  Each tried with increasingly difficulty to find a productive space to play amid, in particular, Cassidy's ebullient (and overamplified) EVI an Story's more conventionally jazz-based (and overamplified) electric piano.

The set succumbed to the classic pitfalls of large improvising groups by reflecting simultaneous collective overactivity and individual tentativeness, which is too bad, given the wealth of creativity promised by the group on paper.  Rindone's memorable response at an apparent moment of frustration was to take her bass clarinet away from the rest of the ensemble to play momentarily (and electrically!) against a side wall -- by herself, for herself -- in perhaps the most coherent musical statement to be found within the Big Sound.

Appropriately, the second set featured some delightful capital-S Smallness from cello duo, The Knot (Nick Storring and Tilman Lewis).  From my seat by the doorway (which regular attendees will know has no stage sightlines whatever), it was impossible to isolate who was making which extraordinary sound, but the sum was music full of both general momentum and momentary detail.  They let the set breathe a bit with relatively unadorned pulse-based episodes, but the real drama had them (I suspect) grinding away, mining a quartz vein of tiny sounds both harsh and sweet out of their instruments.  It was a lovely and satisfying way to end four CIA days.

I'm left, though, with some doubts about how valuable the CIA is, either as a response to or an extension of the IAJE conference.  It was clear that the 2002 version was pretty crucial not only as a opportunity for IAJE conferrers to hear some local, unconventional, non-institutional creative music, but also since it gave Toronto creative musicians a sorely needed context in which to play.  For this, Glen Hall should be lauded for his vision and energy.

But things have changed.  No doubt, the spark of energy furnished by Hall in the early oughts has been a catalyst for steadily burgeoning creative music energies in Toronto that are manifested in, for example, AIMToronto, Leftover Daylight, Somewhere There, and regular creative music at the Tranzac Club.  The beautiful outcome is that there's interesting music being presented virtually every day in Toronto (as Soundlist archives attest).

I'm generally unworried about the issue of splitting audiences when two or more shows of improvised or otherwise unconventional music are happening on the same night.  The fact that I can't hear everything going on in this city is surely a testimony to the health of the music scene.  (How boring it would be to hear and know everything!)  Nevertheless, when it comes to strategically providing options for IAJE conference attendees as CIA does in large part, perhaps energy would be more effectively marshaled by pointing them to ongoing, regular programming that is the foundation for the Toronto creative music scene.

For example, the CIA programming conflicted with Wednesday's performance at ST by Christine Duncan's tremendous Element Choir and with Friday's Leftover Daylight Series, featuring an intriguing-sounding Stockhausen tribute/séance/interpretation by a group led by Rob Piilonen (not Nilan Perera... sorry Rob for the mis-credit).  I don't think I'd do away with the CIA Festival concept but, perhaps, this strategic, IAJE-related, slightly glossy brand name could simply migrate and affix itself to things that are already going on in Toronto to feature the important work going on week-in and week-out.  Due to the relative silence this year around CIA (see my last post), this point is mostly moot, since few if any IAJE conferrers actually knew about, let alone attended, the Festival.  Suffice it to say, we'll all play it by ear next time.

No matter these issues, I extend warm thanks to Glen Hall for all of the work he put into the event and for his ongoing contributions to Toronto music.

An Aural View From Within

This site is a New Year's resolution that had been falling by the wayside (with the other products of good intentions on my 2008 list) until Carl Wilson's latest post on Zoilus provoked it to life.  He paraphrased Darcy James Argue's assertion at their IAJE conference panel on jazz blogs that every local scene would benefit if at least one active blogger would track, critique, and respond to the work of its constituent members.  Though I'm relatively ignorant of the blog universe, I've seen the impact Carl's posts alone have had on the reception of creative improvised music in Toronto.  I also recognize that Carl's range of professional interests limits how much he attends and writes about Toronto jazz and improvised music, so clearly others ought to fill in the gap.  This is my contribution to this end.

Since I opened Somewhere There in September, the space has hosted over fifty concerts and hundreds of musicians, and I've heard almost all of it first-hand.  Few others in Toronto hear as much live creative improvised music as I do, and perhaps this affords me some insight that others will find valuable.  To be clear, my goal here is to respond to the music that is played at Somewhere There, though I may mention other AIMToronto events that take place elsewhere and offer some general reflections about creative music in Toronto.  Thus, it's not a jazz blog.  It's not an improvised music blog.  It's not even an AIMToronto blog, though the association's identity inevitably bleeds into and overlaps with programming at Somewhere There.  I'm not really able to speak authoritatively about (or speak for!) the entire scene of creative improvised music in Toronto; I'd just like to reflect on and respond to what goes on in my space.

It's a timely intervention, as I see it, since not a word (as far as I know) has been written about any of those fifty-plus concerts after they've happened.  I've had some nice recognition in print (including a nice feature in the Star and kudos in Eye Weekly's 2007 year-end review) but, oddly, none of the print journalists who have been supportive (as far as I know) have attended a show here!  So, like the space itself, this site is an attempt at a positive response to a general set of circumstances in which the music that I love is marginalized.

Speaking of marginal music and print journalism, Carl's Zoilus entry also reminded me of his Globe & Mail article prior to the last Toronto IAJE in 2002.  He previewed the off-festival (counter-festival?) that saxophonist Glen Hall put together called Creative Improviser's Assembly at the defunct Oasis Club on College Street.  The uncommonly packed houses throughout the festival -- an outcome no doubt of the G&M preview -- showed how hungry at least some of the stereotypically conservative and staid attendees of IAJE conferences are for unconventional sounds.

Apparently, the organizers took notice too, since they approached Glen and requested that he program another CIA festival this time around, and he proceeded to book two nights in the front room at the Tranzac (including Friday with Argue's Secret Society in the main hall) and two nights at Somewhere There.  Sadly, neither any press response nor even inclusion in the IAJE program were in the offing, so most conference attendees had no idea CIA was happening.  As a case in point, at a Jazz Journalist's Association reception that he'd arranged on Friday, James Hale cornered me, keen to finally find out "where the interesting music is."

Unfortunately for James, he'd already missed some really interesting music at ST the night before by the Kyle Brenders Ensemble, a seven-piece unit through which Kyle is exploring his current compositional fascinations:  duration, juxtaposition of extreme timbres, and improvisational interplay that resists clichéd call-and-response gestures.  With my frame of reference, the music sounds like a productive extension of certain AACM priorities, though I'm sure other music with which I'm less familiar (Morton Feldman?) is equally on Kyle's radar.  The group's sound seems to hinge on the combination of Jonathan Adjemian's synthesizer, Eric Chenaux's wah'ed guitar, and Kyle's rather fragile but nuanced soprano playing.  Throughout two pieces in the first half and one overlong piece in the second, this trio was the fulcrum of music that (despite perhaps inevitable longeurs) was rarely less than wholly engrossing.

The CIA Festival wrapped up Saturday night at Somewhere There, and I'll endeavour to comment on those proceedings in the next few days.