Volume 27 Issue 4 - February 2022

arco bass line and fragmented slurs and slides from the saxophonist
swirl through multiphonic vibrations to eventual reed/keyboard
harmony. Each composition is geared to individual quartet members’
skills, with tracks fully defined when all kick in after an individual’s
introduction. Distinctive motifs like the drummer’s sophisticated
slapping, the bassist’s double-stroking ostinatos, the reedist’s outputting
of gentle or strained tones and piano motifs that can be delicately
cooperative or contrapuntally challenging, are all part of the mix. It
also means that Sassoon has created a spectrum of group music that
highlights her writing skill.
If Sassoon had to cross the Channel to establish
herself in Berlin, other Berlin improvisers
come from even farther afield.
Vibraphonist Emilio Gordoa is Mexican and
the cooperative GRIFF trio (Inexhaustible
Editions ie G25 emiliogordoa.com) features
Danish bassist Adam Pultz Melbye who also
resides in Berlin and Austrian pianist Ingrid
Schmoliner, who so far, still lives in Vienna.
With the pianist mostly dedicated to plucking, pinching or stoppering
the instrument’s internal strings and Gordoa clanking, rasping or
slapping his instrument’s metal bars, the harmonies produced are, in
the main, percussive. Currents of sound refract among all three when
the bassist adds string pops so that timbres become threatening rather
than tuneful. Yet when bell-pealing-like vibraphone tones and
dynamic keyboard patterning intersect, reflective lyricism is also
present. Making effective use of silences – there’s no sound on the
concluding Moss Rock until keyboard chops and vibe reverb are heard
two minutes in and the exposition still proceeds with many pauses
– the unique set-up also infers extended sound colours. This occurs
when Schmoliner’s assembly line of echoes and clinks meets up with
equivalent patterning from vibe reverb with the motor switched off.
While some sequences are taken staccato and allegro, coordination is
most notable on Bell Skin, as a polyrhythmic climax is attained by
blending metal bar thwacks, double bass string buzzing and prepared
piano string shakes and clatters, completed by a coda of paced ringing
of single vibraphone notes.
Another Berlin-based international group
is the Takatsuki Trio of Finnish bassist
Antti Virtaranta, German string player
Joshua Weitzel and Japanese pianist Rieko
Okuda. On At KühlSpot (577 Records 5874
577records.com) the trio is joined by
Berlin alto saxophonist Silke Eberhard for
a single, almost 39-minute improvisation.
Without needing a percussion instrument, Virtaranta’s authoritative
string pulse and Weitzel’s creation of dobro-like clanks from
the three-string shamisen or authoritative guitar strums, provide
enough rhythmic frails to back the pianist’s metronomic rumbles
and staccato stabs as well as the saxophonist’s inventive trills, squalls
and flutters. With bass strokes keeping the exposition linear, Okuda
has latitude to circle in and out of supplemental melodies and occasionally
strum internal strings. Meanwhile Eberhard’s theme reconstitution
sometimes takes the form of aviary peeps, flutter tonguing
or altissimo split tones. At points these unroll in one direction as
the pianist moves in another. With concise snatches of reed lyricism
sometimes bubbling to the surface, uncommon connections
are made between them and bass-emphasized piano pulses.
Doubling the tempo at the halfway point with galloping piano lines
and crammed reed note spewing, variations solidify and return to
the initial theme. Timbres from each quartet member then subtly
combine for a formal ending signified by a thick double bass thump
and guitar clanks.
Not all Berlin improvising is acoustic as Das Kondensat 2 (Why Play
Jazz WPJ 057 whyplayjazz.com) shows. Created by three veteran
German players, who now live in Berlin, Gebhard Ullmann soprano
and tenor saxophones, looper and sampler; Oliver Potratz, electric
bass, bass synthesizer and analog effects;
and Eric Schaefer with drums and modular
synthesizer, multiply the number of sound
sources available. During 2’s 11 tracks, the
trio members are able to straddle the
boundaries among solid beats, adept electronica
and free improvisation. While a
couple of the tracks vibrate with atmospheric
buzzes where voltage overlay leads
to crossover shakes, alliances with tougher material is evident from
Pendulum, the second track, on. As the bassist and drummer
actualize a tough funk beat with string buzzes and solid cymbal taps,
the saxophonist barks and bites wavering reed elaborations as
circular tongue fluttering and irregular vibrations validate a link to
energy music. That connection is proven on the separated I Was Born
in Cleveland, Ohio (Part 1) and I Was Born in Cleveland, Ohio
(Part 2), where the voice of tenor saxophonist Albert Ayler, the Ohio
city’s most famous free jazzer, introduces the music and is heard
faintly in the background as Ullmann’s tenor saxophone spews a
variety of altissimo screams, triple tonguing and choked vibrations,
while the others create a churning backbeat. Although (Part 2) adds
higher-pitched reed squeaks and programmed wiggles beside
percussion snaps, a calmer interlude on (Part 1) references Ayler’s
spiritual side. Most of the other tunes migrate to a sophisticated form
of fusion with designated bass thumb pops and fuzztones and a
resonating backbeat. Yet Schaefer’s skill at switching to Latin
rhythms or propelling tunes with only drum stick whacks, plus
Potratz’s single string emphasis and broken chord advances negate
any resemblance to heavy metal. Similarly, while the band’s use of
swirling electronics adds a layer of oscillating textures that thicken
the narratives, Ullman’s insertions of nasal slurs, tone flutters, whistles
and squeaks roughen the expositions enough to confirm the
non-simplicity of the playing and writing.
While improvisers keep arriving, Berlin has
been attracting musicians from elsewhere
for decades. But now players who are more
recent settlers get to exchange ideas with
older residents who they may formerly have
only known by reputation, even if they’re
from the same country. That’s the situation
on Swinging at Topsi’s (Astral Spirits
AS 176 astralspirits.bandcamp.com) which
assembles three Swedish improvisers. One of the pioneers of free
jazz, drummer Sven-Åke Johansson has been a Berliner since 1968.
Bassist Joel Grip made the move early in this century; while guitarist
Niklas Fite, who is also 52 years younger than Johansson, was only
visiting. Transparently descriptive, the CD title reflects exactly what
transpired on this club date. As a coda to their extended improvisations,
the trio members take on two familiar standards in full, lilting
swing-era mode with Johansson vocalizing on Isn’t It Romantic and
Out Of Nowhere. Jumping forward eight decades, the group adapts
the flow that comes from consistent rhythm guitar strums, forceful
double bass thumps and subtle percussion chromaticism to make
the two extended improvisations cadence carefully as well as highlight
exploration. Resounding drum rattles and cymbal swishes allow
Grip to explore below-the-bridge thwacks when he isn’t timekeeping
and Fite to insert unexpected frails and runs when he isn’t fastened
on a rhythmic function with flat top twanging. Interestingly, Set 1 is
tougher and livelier than the second one, as the guitar moves between
spidery and solid comping and the percussionist alternating between
barely-there drum top rubs and sudden rumbling explosions. While
he has his share of lyrical pulses and lacerating string set probes, Grip
maintains the pulse that logically bonds the improvisations and bleeds
their textures into those of the subsequent pop ditties.
Over the years Berlin has been the centre of many, mostly political
situations that have drawn it in many directions. The direction it has
established now though is as a haven for improvised music.
56 | February 2022 thewholenote.com