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FESTIVAL REPORT
HumaNoise Congress
by Ken Waxman
Keith Rowe
Midway through the first evening’s performances at
the 22nd HumaNoise Congress (HNC), which occurs
annually in Wiesbaden, Germany, just west of
Frankfurt, one particular set provided a visceral
illustration of the three-day festival’s challenges and
attainments. HNC, which took place this year from
Sep. 24th-26th, always throws together improvisers in
different-sized ad hoc groups to see what develops.
In this case the lineup encompassed Czech-
German cellist Jan-Filip Tupa, German
pianist/violinist Helmut Bieler-Wendt, Japanese-born,
Pennsylvania-based percussionist Tatsuya Nakatani,
British table-top guitarist Keith Rowe and Wiesbaden’s
Ulrich Phillipp on bass and live electronics. Rather
than the dulcet chamber-like tones that would be
expected from such a string-heavy ensemble, the
results were discordant, staccato and definitely
percussive. Only occasionally did Bieler-Wendt pluck
and strum the piano’s internal strings. Instead he
rapped on the instrument’s wooden sides and fallback
as well as frequently and silently moving the cover up
and down. Meanwhile Nakatani commonly used a
mallet to hammer on a ride cymbal, which was also
scraped on the skin of his floor tom; he also blew
noisily through a hole cut in the middle of a minicymbal
and tongued the top of his snare skin. Even the
cellist - who usually performs in contemporary music
groups - contributed to the hubbub with jagged runs
exacerbated with the vibrations from a second bow
shoved horizontally behind his strings. Rowe added a
steady drone throughout and the piece’s conclusion
was eventually signaled by a pseudo-processional
march played on the keyboard by Bieler-Wendt.
Involved with the teaching of improvisation,
Bieler-Wendt was almost literally everywhere during
the HNC. His piano prowess was put to use in a duet
with Rowe on the third day and in another with British
vocalist/miscellaneous instrument manipulator
Alwynne Pritchard on the second. The first featured
wood-slapping, string-stopped percussiveness and
violent key pumping on his part, countered with
bubbling flanges and clanks, mini-fan buzzes and a
split-second burst of radio-propelled rock music from
Rowe. With a delivery between that of a rock-music
diva and a verbal and physical contortionist, the
Norwegian-based Pritchard easily slithered
underneath the piano, knocked on its bottom board
and caressed its trusses while alternating between
banshee-like wails and wolf-like howls.
Simultaneously Bieler-Wendt struck tough chord
clusters while rubbing the keyboard with a bunch of
inflated balloons left in the hall from an earlier
celebration.
(CONTINUED ON PAGE 46)
Photo by Myles Regan
Angel City Jazz Fest
by Greg Burk
Nels Cline
The third edition of the Angel City Jazz Festival (Oct.
2nd-4th, 7th-9th), curated by Rocco Somazzi and Jeff
Gauthier, has blown up the biggest avant whirlwind
this residually stodgy metropolis has ever seen. The
first three of six nights nearly broke the anemometer.
Saturday at REDCAT witnessed the return of
Henry Grimes - the Albert Ayler bassist who vanished
for 33 years - to the city where his 2003 resurrection
took place. Drummer Alex Cline reports that the ad
hoc sextet’s rehearsal was limited to the sound check,
but the spontaneity proved little obstacle to veteran
free improvisers such as Cline (directing with celestial
pings and juggernaut malletwork), trumpeter Wadada
Leo Smith (loud, proud and dramatic), windman
Vinny Golia (weaving sustained threads on several
horns), pianist Ben Rosenbloom (laying down cushions
of unifying dissonance) and vocalist Dwight Trible
(crying out like a shipwrecked sailor). On bass and
violin, an impassively blinking Grimes in a terrycloth
headband unleashed fingers and bow as if possessed,
concluding with poems about ritual, magnetism and
the eternal road. Intermittently frightening.
The vocal-piano duo of Trible and John Beasley
opened, the latter supporting with rounded two-hand
touch and classical-to-gospel variety, Trible pouring
out a dynamic wellspring of passion. Trible’s take on
“Strange Fruit” renounced Billie Holiday’s
understatement; his “Autumn Leaves” made us
imagine a skyful of cyclone-driven foliage.
Revisionistic.
On Sunday, the Shakespeare-ready John Anson
Ford Amphitheater again claimed title as the ideal
outdoor stage for ensemble and soliloquy and the
crowd’s attentive enthusiasm locked in for the
duration. The younger quintet Kneebody opened with
an original modern sound - monstrous lumbering bass,
funky post-rock and spaced-out Rhodes. The Vinny
Golia Sextet expostulated defiantly jumpy rhythms
and tensile Schoenberg-ian harmonies while young
guitarist Alex Noice ripped blazing fuzz guitar.
Behind Pheeroan akLaff’s Afrobooty drums and Jon
Lindberg’s tweakily-effected standup bass, Wadada
Leo Smith’s Golden Quartet opted to emphasize its
electric-Miles-like festival groove rather than its more
abstract side, benefiting prodigy Vijay Iyer’s synth
fantasies but losing his densely articulate acoustic
piano in the hillside breeze. The closing Ravi Coltrane-
Ralph Alessi Quintet artfully revealed the saxist and
trumpeter’s essential intellectuality with the sensual
teamwork of Larry Koonse’s samba-shaded guitar and
Darek Oles’ group-conscious bass; the whole ensemble
expanded and contracted with pulmonary ease,
nudged by Steve Hass’ ever-tumbling drums.
(CONTINUED ON PAGE 46)
ALLABOUTJAZZ-NEW YORK | November 2010 13