Month: September 2012

Italian Instabile Orchestra: Skies Of Europe (ECM 1543)

| Tyran Grillo

Italian Instabile Orchestra
Skies Of Europe

Pino Minafra trumpet, megaphone
Alberto Mandarini trumpet
Guido Mazzon trumpet
Giancarlo Schiaffini trombone, tuba
Lauro Rossi trombone
Sebi Tramontana trombone
Martin Mayes French horn, mellophone
Mario Schiano alto and soprano saxophones
Gianluigi Trovesi alto saxophone, clarinet, alto and bass clarinets
Carlo Actis Dato baritone and tenor saxophones, bass clarinet
Daniele Cavallanti tenor and baritone saxophones
Eugenio Colombo alto and soprano saxophones, flute
Renato Geremia violin
Paolo Damiani cello
Giorgio Gaslini piano, anvil
Bruno Tommaso double-bass
Tiziano Tononi drums, percussion
Vincenzo Mazzone tympani, percussion, drums
Recorded May 1994 with the White Mobile, Auditorium F.L.O.G., Florence
Engineer: Martin Wieland
Produced by Steve Lake

Reductively speaking, Skies Of Europe is significant for welcoming reedist Gianluigi Trovesi into the ECM fold. More broadly, we find in this second record from the 18-piece Italian Instabile Orchestra a potpourri of stimuli that only hints at the significance of this democratic collective in its formative live settings, which helped spark a renaissance in Italian jazz. The group, founded in 1990, sports a lush yet angular sound that is exciting down to the marrow. True to form, it offers up two longish suites as showcases of hidden shadows and the talents that cast them.

Bassist Bruno Tommaso paints half of this diptych with his Il Maestro Muratore (The Master Mason). The open, golden sound rings of epic fantasy, spilling glitter and feathers like birds diving into waterfalls as drums light the way for deeper abstractions. Sections range from declamatory (“Squilli Di Morte”) and insistent (“Corbù”) in mood to the gentler persuasions of “Merù Lo Snob.” The latter’s formative vibes from piano and reeds kiss the air with promise, veiling sensual developments in the politics of breath. With vivacious resolve the music spreads in these directions and more, leaving but a silhouette and a clue.

The title suite, composed by pianist Giorgio Gaslini, sets its phasers to meditative in the opening section, “Du Du Duchamp.” This ponderous tenure at the casino swaps the former’s chips for ornately patterned pips, the violin’s Ace of Spades the most florid of them all. So begins a roving gallery of allusions, gambling higher stakes in “Quand Duchamp Joue Du Marteau” to translucent effect, letting out a Pifarély-like cry in “Il Suono Giallo,” and traipsing through the forested “Marlene E Gli Ospiti Misteriosi” on the heels of a stunning baritone, which stumbles like Little Red Riding Hood into the wolf’s open jaws. “Satie Satin” is a delightful palate cleanser with shrill arco touches, while “Masse D’urto (A Michelangelo Antonioni)” is as emotionally turgid as the cinema of its dedicatee. A manipulated trumpet spools the anthemic “Fellini Song” in an old dusty theater, petering into fadeout.

The IIO is an attentive and responsive unit—so much so that by the end of this performance the names of individual players (as brilliant as they are) cease to matter. In the midst of this acticity we are but bystanders at the roulette table, watching as that little white ball bounces from red to black until it settles on…

<< Keith Jarrett Trio: Standards In Norway (ECM 1542)
>> Tomasz Stanko Quartet: Matka Joanna (ECM 1544)

Kenny Wheeler: Angel Song (ECM 1607)

| Tyran Grillo

Kenny Wheeler
Angel Song

Kenny Wheeler trumpet, flugelhorn
Lee Konitz alto saxophone
Bill Frisell guitar
Dave Holland double-bass
Recorded February 1996, Power Station, New York
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

For my first ECM review after the birth of my son, I decided to return to an old favorite. As one of the label’s deepest accomplishments in all respects, the generative spirit of Angel Song breathes like the life that has cast new light onto mine. Now that I hear everything through the lens of a fatherhood never known to me before, yet which is now as lucid as the quivering of a crying newborn, I discover something so poignant in “Nicolette” as can be matched only by the love of parent for child. This first of nine Wheeler originals bears every hallmark that makes Angel Song such a statuesque experience. From the soulful theme to the sheer depth of listening on part of the musicians and engineer Jan Erik Kongshaug, the interweaving of audible and inaudible elements sets an already high bar and builds a soft ladder from there.

The title of the album’s final track, “Kind Of Gentle,” is also its mode. It is a lulling and unwavering effect that cradles us in nebulae of memory. We dream, back to the cribs and crooks in which we all once drifted, all the while guided by a formidable foursome: Lee Konitz on alto sax, Dave Holland on bass, Bill Frisell on guitar, and trumpeter Kenny Wheeler in the lead. Absence of drums lends the music stretch and comfort, wrapping the metaphorical child of its creation in swaddle. The reed is paramount in this stretch of dawn-lit midnight, sealing every crevice of the album’s fragile architecture as securely as mother’s arms. Like a quiet vessel it cuts a V through the reflected sky, leaving the shores of “Present Past” and touching down on “Past Present.” And in “Nonetheless” his tone drips like honey from a comb. Holland, for his part, adds pliancy, pulling signature lines through such tracks as “Kind Folk” and “Unti.” Frisell also excels in both, peeling stretches of glitter from his restrained backdrops with the nimbleness of Peter Pan’s shadow. Each of his solos is a spider’s web trembling at our listening. As for Wheeler, he has never sounded more verdant, painting the landscapes of the title track and the relatively upbeat “Onmo” with the intensity of a thunderbolt yet the almost-not-there-ness of a dandelion puff.

Recorded in the winter of 1996 yet effusive with body heat, this is music that exhales one timeless theme after another. Perhaps because it was also my first exposure to Wheeler, I mark it as one of his very best. Even in the absence of comparison, it soothes, taking me back to the events of one week ago and the overwhelming unity that has held me since. After the fever dream that was his coming into this world, my son absorbed the light of his first morning as might a leaf drink from the sun. Behind him, the fears that beset any parent-to-be; before him, the safety now manifested in my waiting arms. I seek to magnify that tranquility in this music, and hope it may do the same whenever you find yourself in the presence of a miracle.

<< Ingrid Karlen: Variations (ECM 1606 NS)
>> Terje Rypdal: Skywards (ECM 1608)