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Return of the Guitar Man - The New York City Jazz Record

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NEW YORK @ NIGHT<br />

4 October 2011 | THE NEW YORK CITY JAZZ RECORD<br />

Photo by Jim Anness<br />

<strong>Guitar</strong>ist Michael Pisaro’s “Ascending Series (6)” on<br />

Sep. 13th marked a sort <strong>of</strong> an end for two weeks at <strong>The</strong><br />

Stone curated by Erstwhile <strong>Record</strong>s as well as a prelude<br />

for <strong>the</strong> two-day Gravity Wave Festival, which featured<br />

his quiet compositions and capped <strong>the</strong> run. <strong>The</strong> piece<br />

- an exercise in silence and tonality in just under 40<br />

minutes - was written for and played in duet with<br />

trombonist Radu Malfatti, ano<strong>the</strong>r devotee <strong>of</strong> stillness<br />

in music. Each <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> musicians was armed with a<br />

timer, which kept <strong>the</strong>m both in silence for <strong>the</strong> first<br />

several minutes before Pisaro initiated a low drone<br />

with Ebow and electric guitar, matched in short order<br />

by a much higher tone (seemingly generated by<br />

Pisaro’s laptop), <strong>the</strong>n ano<strong>the</strong>r extended low tone from<br />

Malfatti’s horn. All <strong>of</strong> this came <strong>of</strong>f like a tableau<br />

against ano<strong>the</strong>r ra<strong>the</strong>r appealing sound, which may<br />

have come from <strong>the</strong> computer or perhaps water in <strong>the</strong><br />

pipes overhead. Three distinct tone fields - trombone<br />

(low), guitar (low or high) and electronics (high), <strong>the</strong><br />

absence <strong>of</strong> sound perhaps being a dominant fourth -<br />

seemed to work in strict but independent time<br />

intervals. <strong>The</strong> elements were so few that it began to<br />

feel like an unevenly measured round, each <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> three<br />

voices cycling in and out (variations within <strong>the</strong>m were<br />

few; occasional quick notes in <strong>the</strong> upper register were<br />

<strong>the</strong> greatest alteration), sometimes occurring<br />

concurrently. But even with <strong>the</strong> silence, <strong>the</strong>re was<br />

always <strong>the</strong> feeling <strong>of</strong> method, <strong>of</strong> a process at work.<br />

- Kurt Gottschalk<br />

Michael Pisaro & Radu Malfatti @ <strong>The</strong> Stone<br />

Despite having played in duo only once before - a set<br />

<strong>of</strong> less than 15 minutes some 10 years ago - <strong>the</strong> pairing<br />

<strong>of</strong> saxophonist John Butcher and syn<strong>the</strong>sizer player<br />

Thomas Lehn at Issue Project Room Sep. 20th was a<br />

natural. <strong>The</strong> two, <strong>of</strong> course, have played toge<strong>the</strong>r in<br />

o<strong>the</strong>r situations, most notably <strong>the</strong> trio <strong>The</strong>rmal with<br />

guitarist Andy Moor <strong>of</strong> Dutch ‘rock group’ <strong>The</strong> Ex.<br />

With <strong>the</strong> brash sound <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> saxophone, it was tempting<br />

to hear <strong>the</strong>m as a duo <strong>of</strong> some sort or ano<strong>the</strong>r: sax and<br />

organ, sax and drums. But it proved easier - or at least<br />

more economical - to give up on <strong>the</strong> idea <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> horn<br />

altoge<strong>the</strong>r. Butcher’s sax is his laboratory, <strong>the</strong> science<br />

<strong>of</strong> air pushed through tubes his area <strong>of</strong> expertise.<br />

Playing alternately unamplified, into a microphone<br />

running through a volume pedal or a second mic<br />

boosted to feedback levels, Butcher had access to <strong>the</strong><br />

whole dynamic range <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> horn. Lehn, meanwhile,<br />

was unusually understated for <strong>the</strong> first half <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> set,<br />

letting s<strong>of</strong>t waves emanate from his syn<strong>the</strong>sizer and<br />

slowly build. <strong>The</strong> analog electronics rig is fantastically<br />

malleable in his hands: <strong>the</strong> pair <strong>of</strong> decks, one altered<br />

and bent with a circuitry card, proved capable <strong>of</strong> great<br />

and sometimes excitingly propulsive sounds. When<br />

Butcher switched to soprano, <strong>the</strong> energy was upped,<br />

both becoming more percussive. So was it a drum duo<br />

perhaps? By <strong>the</strong> time Butcher was playing his<br />

mouthpiece with <strong>the</strong> flickering <strong>of</strong> fingers <strong>the</strong>re was<br />

little difference between sax, synth and drums anyway.<br />

(KG)<br />

Danish multi-saxist Lotte Anker has been working<br />

with pianist Craig Taborn and drummer Gerald<br />

Cleaver since 2003, with two recordings under <strong>the</strong>ir<br />

collective belts. <strong>The</strong> trio musically reacquainted<br />

<strong>the</strong>mselves at Barbès (Sep. 7th), launching a mini-tour<br />

to include <strong>the</strong> Guelph Festival on 9/11-eve. Anker<br />

started on soprano sax with a throaty tone <strong>of</strong> shaking<br />

vibrato and stuttered attacks, gradually bringing her<br />

sound forward to a full boisterous resonance, moving<br />

to alto mid-piece and ending <strong>the</strong> set on tenor. Cleaver<br />

followed a similar arc, at first showing his mastery <strong>of</strong><br />

<strong>the</strong> understatement, playing barehanded or grabbing<br />

for an unusual assortment <strong>of</strong> sticking implements<br />

(baby rattle, telephone cord, sleighbells) and<br />

‘preparing’ his kit in various ways to produce a<br />

panoply <strong>of</strong> percussive textures, eventually building to<br />

a rock-solid ten-beat pattern that pulsed with an avantmeets-Motown<br />

sound. Taborn, <strong>the</strong> third ‘leg’ <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />

improvising triangle can, like Anker and Cleaver, be<br />

sparse and spare when <strong>the</strong> musical environment calls<br />

for it, or let loose with both shotgun barrels when so<br />

inspired. In many places his musical commentary was<br />

merely implied or insinuated, but elsewhere his<br />

energetic fusillades <strong>of</strong> two-handed passages decorated<br />

with jagged ornaments filled every corner <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> room.<br />

<strong>The</strong> drums and bass played powerful hits toge<strong>the</strong>r and<br />

<strong>the</strong> group came to a vibrant climax just before ending<br />

<strong>the</strong> first piece and again during a shorter ‘encore’.<br />

- Tom Greenland<br />

Cleaver/Anker/Taborn @ Barbès<br />

On Sep. 9th, <strong>The</strong> Kitchen, a four-decade bastion <strong>of</strong><br />

experimental improv, began “Pioneers <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />

Downtown Sound”, a mini-series curated by Rhys<br />

Chatham to revisit and update its early years. Chatham,<br />

most known for No Wave “guitarchestras”, opened<br />

with solo cornet filtered through three channels <strong>of</strong><br />

digital delays in long-decaying overlapped loops,<br />

building on a single pinched note, gradually adding<br />

tones above and below, false-fingered trills and<br />

squelched burps to construct a gurgling swirl <strong>of</strong> sound,<br />

ending <strong>the</strong> minimalistic conconction on his knees, as if<br />

in prayer, hands stretched forward to <strong>the</strong> fader knobs.<br />

Joan La Barbara sang an etude <strong>of</strong> descending<br />

exhalations immediately alternated with ascending<br />

inhalations, accelerating and expanding each cycle,<br />

adding multiphonics, <strong>the</strong>n reversing direction to<br />

reprise her opening gesture. “Twelvesong” featured<br />

live-dubbed vocalizations (cat and bird calls, ripping<br />

cloth, radio static, creaking doors, etc.) over a<br />

pre-taped mix, like a Foley artist making an imaginary<br />

movie soundtrack, capped by a spontaneous a cappella<br />

piece. Pauline Oliveros ‘un-conducted’ <strong>the</strong> audience<br />

in participatory vocal performance, <strong>the</strong>n unveiled a<br />

MIDI-controlled button accordion, triggering acoustic<br />

bass, voice and brass samples in uncanny juxtaposition,<br />

dramatically articulated, finally inviting Chatham<br />

back onstage for a duet, his farted howling timbres<br />

panning over and behind her muted brass and clarinet<br />

patches. (TG)<br />

Photo by Scott Friedlander

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