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.
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.
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