Category: Reviews

Review - Fred Hersch @ Purcell Room, Southbank Centre

6/10/2012

Fred Hersch is a contemporary American jazz pianist whose influences span not only swing, blues and ragtime, but many areas of Western art music, alongide cubism and rhythms from Latin America. He was performing in the Purcell Room of the Southbank Centre, a setting which suited the music perfectly.

He has a super-sensitive touch and response, tinkering with every subtlety, gently teasing every emotion out of each note, carved into an intricate phrasing with the skill of a sculptor. At points, he teeters on the brink of controlessness, but ropes it back in at just the right millisecond, with a fine degree of sensitivity. The scalic runs are also expertly pulled off with precision and style.

The melodies are intelligently put together, starting with simple, meandering lines, slow and profound, which entice you into their little corners and cul-de-sacs, playing with your expectations, and gradually building into symphonic peaks.

The cubist-style repeated cells, evocative of some Stravinsky passages, project some alternate rhythmic orientations, and serve to hasten the tension - now and then breaking out into wide, expansive chordal moments.

Fred Hersch brings about some beautiful convergences of harmony, kaleidoscopic shades and colours, bringing different lines and shapes in and out of focus, and interweaving them into an integrated tapestry or montage. Fred played acoustically, I believe, but he projected every note so clearly, and with such sensitivity, that they were not lost in the intricately weaving textures - each note was important in its own way, towards contributing to the overall picture, like the dots in an Impressionistic painting.

Some compositions experimented with the fugal textures of the Baroque, whereas others were more inspired by Schumann of the Romantic. Many of the compositions were structured symphonically, with driving, revolutionary builds, swells and arcs evocative of Beethoven, always striving towards something. Some compositions were inspired by timeless figures such as Fats Waller, Jerome Kern and Thelonius Monk, whereas others brought in a Brazilian tango or had soulful, cross-rhythmic passages evocative of Cuban Jazz.

Altogether it was a real melange of styles and flavours, all expertly woven into Fred Hersch's musical experience. He breathes so much life into the piano, that, sometimes, it is almost like he could be playing a wind or bowed instrument, because his notes simply 'sing' to you. He never forces it or misjudges it; everything is given as much strength as it needs, underpinned by a rich depth and breadth, to impart its meaning..

Moreover, it is significant to note that Fred Hersch composed most of these works himself, which have been contructed from single ideas or moments, and built into beautifully interwoven, multi-faceted compositions, and yet he plays them without written music, displaying an incredible memory. Neither could I tell whether anything were left to chance or that every note were composed into the music, since he played with the freedom of a bird yet the precision of a mathematician. It was a delight to witness a true artisan effortlessly fusing the worlds of precision and style into a unified masterpiece.

Review - Jorge E Mateus @ Royal Albert Hall

20/9/2012

Jorge E Mateus weave a fusion of traditional Sertanejo, Forró and country influences combined with rock, pop and funk, lending itself to a style that is both highly danceable and melodiously infectious. 15 years since I last entered the Royal Albert Hall at the age of 10 to see the proms, it felt more like a Sambadrome Arena come Praça Da Apoteose tonight packed full of some 5,000 Brazilians grooving and singing along. I have been to many Anglophone-dominated shows but it is very rare to have the chance to be able to attend a show where 95% of the population are Lusophone. The hall was transformed and it had a very warm, festive atmosphere, and the energy was very special. The atmosphere was electric. I was fortunate enough to meet a couple of nice Brazilian girls who taught me a thing or two about the music, the dance and even the odd phrases in Portuguese!

One of the girls, Karena, explained that she loves the music because of the lyrics. Most of the time, song topics are about love and relationships, the songs telling anecdotes with which the girls can identify, such as the Beija-Flor (literally: 'kissing flower') which describes a hummingbird, a metaphor for guys who 'cheat' on their girls. At times, this makes her cry because it reminds her of experiences that she has had with two different boyfriends. Apparently, the guys are not so interested in these lyrics; they just want to dance with the girls, and to swagger in their cowboy hats, boots and chequered shirts. Indeed, looking into the centre of the hall, most of the dancing area was filled with young couples swaying closely. But both girls agreed that the pagode-infected rhythms make the music easy to move to. The sexy, Latin American beat soon kicked in and the Brazilians sure know how to shake it - the scene was incredible and heart-warming.

The performers themselves were relaxed and subtle, yet they had the audiences wrapped around their fingers with such ease. Some songs made everyone cry out in delight, the hall resounding with their voices singing the lyrics in unison. Even Amanda, who is not a fan of this music in particular, explained that because it contains so many influences - from rock, pop and tropicalia, to traditional country sertanejo and forró, to folkloric samba, pagode, to groovy funk and reggaeton - this hybrid form of music is universal in Brazil, because it expresses a lot of feeling and it can be danced to with not just a boyfriend or partner, but with any man. Apparently there are a lot of artists today who emulate this style today but Jorge E Mateus are at the top, there are simply 'no others like them'. And to accompany them was a fantastic orchestra packing a booming percussion ensemble, accordion and guitar-driven rhythm section, heavy bass-line and even a string section.

Upon exiting the ticket barriers at South Kensington tube station on my approach to the Royal Albert Hall, I randomly bumped into an intoxicated Amy (whether intoxicated by the music, the beer, the atmosphere or all three, who knows?) but her words "that gig was hilarious, just... hilarious... Get in there!" perfectly encapsulates how I felt about it too - you just had to get in there and party the Brazilian way, certainly a foretaste of the Rio Olympics in 4 years time. I even learned how to summarise these sentiments in Portuguese: Eu gosto muito iso!

Review - Soul Rebels @ Band on the Wall

26/7/2012

Combining the age-old tradition of American brass band playing and regal, epic fanfare with dirty drum & bass grooves and hot-blooded funk, soul and rhythm & blues, Soul Rebels got the party going at Band on the Wall.

The catchy, infectious horn licks and vocal refrains were pulled off with incredible ease and style, underpinned by pumping sousaphone bass lines and stonking kit. Each song was tightly arranged, and flowed into one another, each medley unleashing a barrage of energy and finesse, with interweaving melodic lines and orchestral stabs. The ensemble playing was slick, well rehearsed and executed completely from memory. The music was nicely paced, and involved the audience at every twist and turn to such an extent that each build up made you wonder what they were going to do next, and how much further they could take up the level. Especially impressive was when they played florid, sectional material at different dynamics and articulation style to showcase the technical skills of the musicians, making it an educational - as well as recreational - experience.

As well as being pretty good horn players, these guys don't have bad voices either. Interspersing nicely layered vocals with rapping and call & response with the audience, the voices are cleverly integrated into the mix, creating a wonderfully streetwise concoction of brass, percussion and vocals.

Altogether an explosive powerhouse of raw energy and a real hit with the audience.

Review - Pat Metheny @ Barbican

10/7/2012

The bill included not only Pat Metheny, but also Chris Potter on tenor saxophone and bass clarinet, Ben Williams on bass, and Antonio Sanchez - and this review, despite its best interests, cannot offer enough insight that will testimony to the brilliance of these modern icons of jazz, each monumental pioneers in their own right with a multitude of works to their names. Every now and then, I had to jolt myself into reality to actually believe what I'm so fortunate enough to be seeing happening right before my eyes and ears.

The concert began with a couple of solo numbers from Pat Metheny, who effortlessly submerges your ears in a glorious ocean of crystal-clear, sonic bliss, with melodies that are simple yet powerful, and sophisticated harmonies that draw you in even deeper. Percussive effects on the instrument is used to great effect, as is the subtle fret noises that enhance every nuance.

The third number introduced the rest of the band, with Chris Potter's soaring, free and majestic bass clarinet tones. Having seen (and played with) him on a couple of occasions before, Chris Potter is impressive as ever in mid-flight, unweilding a barrage of melodious, intuitive heights, combining incredibly crafted journeys across the instrument with lighting fast intuition and response, and whose peaks and dips transport you to another plane of existence. His tenor saxophone dances around and across the beat, through elegant leaps and arpeggiated runs, shifting and gliding through ever-morphing layers of harmonic shape, with the slickness and finesse of an electric eel, yet with subtle, gentle measures of sentimentality and grace. On both instruments, he is master; moving freely from feathery low notes to spellbinding altissimo, always striving for new heights. The transplantation of motivic material in different registers and keys displays an incredibly sensitive awareness of harmonic space, and a great ear.

Pat Metheny uses a range of different timbres, effects and synth leads to great effect, creating an array of sensations and colours. His melodic lines develop organically from moments of space and flickering ribbons, gradually building into stately climaxes and wild, thrashing cacophonies of rippling consciousness. The changes in pace were instantaneous, immediate and controlled.

The programme itself had a nice, defined shape that was cleverly structured, engaging and by no means monotonous; instead, giving the audience plenty of meat to chew on (or cheese, if you're vegetarian like me, but not in the musical sense - not that it is a bad thing!). Much of the music played has two levels, simultaneously juxtaposed; with arcing, profound melodies flying over a vista of solid groove-based material. The mood is deeply spiritual; sometimes, strident and voyeuristic, at other times, wild frenzied and reeling into folk idioms, film theme scores and contemporary popular music across the decades - this is just part of the pool that the music both envelopes and transcends. The level of improvisation and depth pushes the imagination as far as it can go, setting new standards with what can be done with these instruments and their technical frontiers. A technique that I noticed several times throughout the evening was the sudden transition from languishing, non-'tonal' or dissonant material into an elated 'tonal' or consonant repeated refrain, creating a 'brightening' effect that serves to heighten the momentum and take the music into another realm, knocking you to your senses.

Evidence of their individual musical skill was exploited to the maximum in the second part of the performance, where each of the other musicians, Chris Potter ('All The Things You Are'), Ben Williams ('Turnaround' - Ornette Coleman) and Antonio Sanchez, took turns to improvise a musical dialogue with Pat Metheny. The result was sobering enough to forget that you were listening to two completely different instruments - guitar and saxophone / bass / drums); the music almost coalesced into one instrument or musical line / thread. Put these musicians together, back in the quartet at the end, and the combination is electrifying. These musicians are pushing the frontiers, transcending the technical means of their instruments and meeting somewhere in the middle, up above, engaging in a common plan of musical discourse, such that you forget which instruments they are playing. Together, they create a progressive music that speaks many of its own languages, and that sails beyond what can be considered 'normal' into the charting of its own destiny.

Review - Danilo Perez @ Ronnie Scott's, Soho

7/6/2012

Danilo Peréz was born in Panama, and started piano lessons at the age of three. Since then, he has studied and worked with the National Conservatory of Panama, Berklee College of Music and New England Conservatory of Music, and is widely considered to be one of the finest jazz pianists around. I had the privilege of seeing him live at Ronnie Scott's Jazz Club, where he cooked up a melange of jazz and Latin improvisations, peppered with rhythms from his native Panama - a smoking, crackling, seething concoction of influences and flavours, alongside Ben Street on piano and Adam Cruz on drums.

I was most impressed by the integration of melody, harmony and rhythm within the different instruments of the jazz trio, each contributing an abundance of material, and coalescing into a perfect trio of shape. The melodic lines and phrases revolve liturgically, almost techtonically, around a core of tightly interlocking rhythms, with a virtuosity that reminds one of Eddie Palmieri or Michel Camilo, among whom Danilo Peréz cites as key influences.

His improvisations begin sparsely, developing from loose threads that flash by like flickers of consciousness, snaking and weaving their way through the rhythmic counterpoint. The momentum is controlled with tempering and fragmentation of clusters across space, complemented by percussive interjections. Sometimes, the trio locks into a cyclic refrain that builds up the excitements, ruptured by exploratory ribbons of texture and flavour.

There is an entire orchestra in his fingertips; in his sound, I hear block chords like the stabs from a brass section, occasionally giving way to the cycadelic, kaleidoscopic salsa octaves, underpinned by the rocksteady tumbao (syncopated bass line). The phrases and structures are not limited to four square patterns, the musicians effortlessly weave in and out of the beat, always moving together and reaching one anothers' conclusions. The rumba groove sometimes floats interchangeably into six-eight with the mastery of the batá tradition, whilst the melodic lines meander and build into heightened climactic moments.

Most of the compositions played tonight were new, and had never been played before, yet they were executed with the skill and finesse of a unit who had played them many times before. Overall, it was a thrilling and electrifying performance, transporting the listener through an array of sounds and sensations, and a nice cross-section of an artist at the height of his work yet encapsulated in a moment of continual flux.

Review - Esperanza Spalding @ KOKO, Camden

31/5/2012

Esperanza gave a charismatic, discursive delivery, proclaiming that she travelled '3000 miles to leave all smiles'. She certainly left audiences smiling 'on the inside as much as the outside' after their Monday night performance at KOKO to celebrate the launch of her new album 'Radio Music Society'. When I discovered that this concert was a sell-out, my intuition told me that I was onto a good thing. Sure enough, the venue was maxxed-out, and if you had a space to stand and see the stage, then you were very lucky. But arriving early was worth the wait. At face value, Esperanza Spalding may arrive as a something of a cross-between Kenny Wheeler and Beyoncé, but there is much more beyond this, for her sound soaks up the richness and goodness of R&B, soul and contemporary jazz, all complemented by her unique character.

This night, she was performing with her eleven-piece band, with a brass section consisting of three saxophones, two trombones and two trumpets. The horn writing is extremely detailed and intricate, especially in the opening composition, in which Esperanza, in unison with the brass section, scats out a melody that is so angular and light that it could have been plucked out of the breeze. Esperanza is so accustomed to singing over the big band, which reacts to her every nuance, without losing its juice. She is never outdone or out-phased by its wall of sound; her message never has to strain to be heard. Even in those moments where her voice is subservient to the rest of the band, it speaks through with a crystal clarity and immediacy.

The second composition ('Hold On Me') further displays the strength of her vocal technique. Esperanza sang the whole melody with solo percussion, hitting every note perfectly without any harmonic support, yet still managing to stretch out and embellish with glissando and Sprechgesang-style murmuring. When the brass arrived, she came in 'note-perfect', to spontaneous applause. However, it is not only her vocal technique that is astounding, but the way in which she assimilates this with her bass playing. Her vocals and bass are integrated together as one unit, a single musical voice and line of creative thought, like an internal dialogue, the one informing the other. Whether she is playing, singing or speaking, it does not matter; it is the substance of what she is conveying that is important.

In this composition, the striking muted trumpets converse with the shifting modal shapes in a kaleidoscope of movement and sensuality, brought into relief by the poignant stabs. Dynamically, the level of control is ultra-sensitive - the musicians are stoppered and never let loose (except when they really need to, of course; it is these moments that are really quite impressive). The individual solos transmit so clearly, taking the flow in different directions, buffeted by the layers of backing provided by the rest of the band which rise like a water table. The skin-ripping squeals and heightened moments are conceived with pinpoint precision and timing, underpinned by a boiling undercurrent, and inciting gasps of delight from the audience, amidst the epic, potentially infinite and creeping walls of harmonic sound.

Her music is permeated with dialectic interaction at all levels. Much of the drama unfolds in the dialogue between Esperanza the individual soloists, such as the alto saxophone in the third composition 'City of Roses', in which conceptual talk meets with abstract saxophonic expressions in a seamless integration of verbal and non-verbal discourse. The saxophone solo itself was impressive. Tia Fuller constantly played outside or barely within the harmony (which was almost playing 'catch-up'). This calibre of playing is exceptionally rare; frequently it is the reverse state of affairs, the saxophonist who is 'catching up' with the harmony. This one is, however, ahead of the game, her solo cascading upwards to stellar rhapsodies and cosmological heights, yet composed with soft inward centers and soulful interiors. The audience cried with delight at every twist and turn, at its every slight motion.

As well as having a discernible musical gift, Esperanza has a real talent with words and conceptual ideas. Improvised poetry and spoken word were as much a part of her upbringing as her musical discipline, and Esperanza exudes emotion and personality from every single note and phrase - stating 'I believe in poetic justice'. Throughout the course of the performance, Esperanza freely intersperses running commentary and compere with melodic passages and lyrics, creating a fluid continuum of the cognitive and the abstract. At times, she steps out of the musical flow to verbally observe and comment on what is going on. She does this with a sharpness, wit and clarity that is so accessible to the listener, at one point, summarising the moment in the phrase 'music speaks louder than words'. The second ('Hold On Me') and third 'City of Roses') compositions are thematically opposed; the second representing 'what happens when things go wrong' and the third representing 'that silver lining'. It is incredible how Esperanza sometimes captures the entire Dionysian abstract in one Apollonian sentiment, especially when the music has no words, or, at least, no narrative sensibility.

Furthermore, Esperanza transforms like a chamelion or a phoenix, adopting different characters and sentiments between compositions. The fourth composition ('Smile Like That') talks about 'that mechanism that you make with your mouth' - a smile being the 'innocent way of describing it' - revealing a flirtatious curiosity, and a sweeter, more feminine side to her personality. The music is rhythmic, even when there is no meter; retaining its rhythmic potential, event when there is seemingly no rhythm. In those moments where the improvisation degenerates into sheer noise and confusion, the audience is still shaking and moving. From the farthest reaches of improvisational complexity, at the slightest touch, the band comes back in together as a collective. It is at this point that Esperanza plays with your expectations, commenting that 'maybe you thought I was innocent'.

Before the fifth composition, Esperanza declares that 'you just walked into the quiet after the storm'. It made me think that the whole set was an essay, or, at least, one continuous composition rather than a set of individual compositions. Their unfolding logic, which unravels itself in intimately connected paragraph-like themes is clear and methodical, yet leaving you compelled to see what transpires next.

Before the sixth composition ('Crowned & Kissed'), Esperanza talks about the 'little things that you forget to notice, which are sometimes right in front of you...' Coincidentally, this composition emphasises the finer, positive aspects of life within a world that over-stresses the negative, and it fills you with a wonder and optimism that makes you think and re-evaluate your life. Her music is, again, all-inclusive and interactive - it is as much about YOU as it is about them. Esperanza and her band work with the energy of the audience, its spontaneous whooping and cheering becoming an integral part of the performance. It is as if the entire performance were written and expressly performed just for YOU, on this very night, and it makes you wonder how much of it was composed and how much of it was improvised. The mention of 'kings and queens' is punctuated by a brassy fanfare, seemingly spontaneous yet executed at the optimum moment, evoking a regal imagery that prevails in the background until the end.

In the seventh composition ('Black Gold') Esperanza is joined by a male vocalist, adding an alternative personality to the mix, with his lamenting, melismatic excursions interposed with supporting comments from the former female presence, adding 'a little medicine for your soul'. This composition reminds me that her music has roots and foundations as well as staggering heights, with its soulful R&B and danceable grooves, executed with an immersive jazz sensibility. The male and female vocals combined added a shimmering richness, and the brilliance is enhanced by the classic key change, which takes the momentum up another notch and empowers it onto another plane.

The eighth composition ('Vague Suspicions') blends gliding cross-rhythms with kaleidoscopic rays of harmony, coloured with silky, cocoaesque vocals, soprano saxophone and flute; with swishing piano and gentle cymbals crashing under swathing sheets of texture. The music never lingers too long on a particular vibe; like Esperanza herself, it is forever shifting and evolving through seemingly endless subjects, from within itself, growing and transforming. And just when you think that it cannot get any higher or go any further, it surprises you again and throws something new onto the table.

Some compositions such as the ninth ('Cinnamon Tree') do not necessarily make narrative sense, but they do not always need to; it is the sensations that they transmit which is integral here, the means rather than the ends. Esperanza is as much a romantic as she is a voyeuristic, her abstract poetry pleasing those young couples who are only too happy to waltz with one another in contemplative bliss. Esperanza refers to each composition as a 'scene' - almost like the concert is a moving film or motion picture that submerges your ears into a fabulously warm ocean of sounds and sensations. The distinctions between compositions are subtly blurred, as the pacing is very fluid, yet each composition still maintains its own cognitive boundaries.

The tenth composition ('Endangered Species') is a Wayne Shorter composition that was 'perfect just how it was', but is now enriched with lyrics, again, presenting us with something new and unexpected, and revealing another side to her personality. Esperanza exploits the power of the voice as an 'instrument' as much as for its lyrical potential. Sometimes, especially when it is subservient or equal to the rest of the band, it resonates with the subconscious rather than the conscious, and you do not always notice it, but if you tune your ears and mind, then you realise that it is omnipresent. The overall forms and instrumental combinations are like auditory illusions; you can listen to the music in a million different ways, and would probably still make sense if it were played backwards, because the unity and structure is so integral. Listening through its multitude of layers, you can hear internal structures interacting with one another at different levels - not limited to the surface. The trumpet solo in this composition is languid and circuitous. Igmar Thomas' fragmentary passages twist and turn, winding around themselves and creating an internal, unfolding logic, hot-wired into a bed of electronic and acoustic dissonance, and free, grooving interplay. The rest of the brass backing once again enters in apocalyptic style, propelling the trumpet to stellar heights, provoking spontaneous rapture from the audience and leaving you dizzy with euphoria.

The overall show seemed to have no beginning or end - even the free improvisatory 'warm-up' grew organically into the opening number. The compositions tap into streams of consciousness that are already there, like telescopes uncovering entities that were always lingering beneath. This is a testament to the strength of her music, and to the compositions in themselves, which transcend technical boundaries and become a platform for social engagement and improvisational mastery.

Review - Krystle Warren + The Faculty @ Dingwalls, Camden

24/5/2012

Krystle Warren uses a very interesting juxtaposition of banjo, string quartet and trumpet, creating a New Orleans / West Country meets folk and blues vibe. The show has a very Bugsy Malone / Speak Easy sound with its decadent 50's style trumpet and comic, almost incidental mood. The compositions combine lilting jazz rhythms with wistful, storybook (non-musical folk, please excuse me) subdominant minor six to tonic major progressions, each song presenting short, sweet moments and situations that never linger longer than they need to - the timing is just right. The lyrics are swishy and poetic, combining lighthearted skat with pragmatic attitudes and old world charm.

Unlike a lot of contemporary music, the compositions of Krystle Warren are not overly reliant on grooving rhythm; it is the timbral combinations and lyrical explorations that are the key interest here. Krystle displays a great range of vocal styles and techniques, utilizing the voice to exploit and tease out all emotional intent. Her voice is rich and gritty, especially with the velvety low notes which are reminiscent of Nina Simone or Joan Armatrading. The backing vocals are used to great effect and enhancement, and provide a sweet counterpoint to her soulful excursions.

Young & Serious