The Source

Trygve Seim tenor and soprano saxophones
Øyvind Brække trombone
Mats Eilertsen double-bass
Per Oddvar Johansen drums
Recorded July 2005 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Trygve Seim offers a second helping of his eponymous group. True to form, the egalitarian collective redefines parameters, shedding the string quartet from 2002’s The Source and Different Cikadas and focusing instead on the Norwegian saxophonist’s core quartet with trombonist Øyvind Brække, bassist Mats Eilertsen, and drummer Per Oddvar Johansen.

The lion’s share of the writing comes from Brække, who embraces extremes of mood and register. Approaching the set list from the outside in, one encounters the slow burn of midnight oil in “Caballero” (the title, of course, a reference to Don Quixote) and, one layer in, “Water Glass Rhapsody.” Both tracks go down like cold coffee, Eilertsen either flying high or growling, tiger-like, in the depths of abstraction as the horns ready their wings. Deeper mining reveals more upbeat ends of the spectrum, as in the Johansen-centered “Alle Blå De Er.” The drummer, too, shows range in his “Tamboura Rasa.” Through misty cymbals, singing bass, and the crackling kindling of horns, this highly descriptive track paints itself one stroke at a time. Although Seim contributes a single tune (the kinetically astute “Un Fingo Andalou,” a play on Buñuel and Dalí’s 1929 masterpiece Un Chien Andalou), he often carries the full weight of the band in his bell, particularly in Brække’s “Prelude To A Boy.”

The Source furthermore pays tribute to the label it calls home. ECM’s output has been of lasting influence among the band members, and it shows. “Libanera” gives props to its composer, drummer Edward Vesala, in whose last group Seim played. To that fortunate collaboration he gives soulful deference, digging some of his strongest trenches yet. The rhythm section is aptly attuned to his stubborn prosody all the while. The trombonist’s other themes cross even more hatches. “Life So Far” means to evoke Keith Jarrett’s Belonging lineup and comes as a welcome surprise after the quicksand of the album’s first half (it’s also where Seim takes a match to his tenor and reveals the fire behind the smoke). The funkier “Mail Me Or Leave Me” might easily be mistaken for a Dave Holland joint, while the concluding “A Surrender Triptych” is an homage to the golden age of Triptykon. The band even references itself with the Johansen-penned “Mmball,” reprised from its appearance on Cikadas. The resolution of Seim and Brække’s slight dissonances into smooth becomings, in combination with the rhythm section’s lyrical sway, makes for some quintessential soundings.

This is music in primary colors that looks to light and shadow for variation, and crafts along the way a warm welcome for any who might chance to sit down for a spell and listen.

Trygve Seim
Øyvind Brække
Per Oddvar Johansen
The Source and Different Cikadas

Øyvind Brække trombone
Trygve Seim tenor and soprano saxophones, clarophone
Per Oddvar Johansen drums
Henrik Hannisdal violin
Odd Hannisdal violin
Marek Konstantynowicz viola
Morten Hannisdal cello
Frode Haltli accordion
Arve Henriksen trumpet
Christian Wallumrød piano
Finn Guttormsen bass
Recorded November 2000 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Norwegian saxophonist Trygve Seim presents another facet of his musical diamond with the Source, a band he leads with trombonist Oyvind Brække and drummer Per Oddvar Johansen. Notable for bringing together the Cikada Quartet, of which cellist Morten Hannisdal had already played with Seim on Different Rivers and Sangam, and pianist Christian Wallumrød, along with mainstays Arve Henriksen on trumpet and Frode Haltli on accordion, the present session draws out music of a spongier texture, something more prone to dances than to rituals.

The compositional credits are fairly well distributed, with four coming from Seim’s pen. Generally, his are viscous, pathos-rich becomings. “Organismus Vitalis” puts the world under a microscope and revels in all that wriggles in its enlightening circle. In this regard, and by virtue of its floating sensibilities, one might easily connect the dots to Terje Rypdal’s chamber pieces or even to the diffuse scenography of David Darling’s solo ventures—such are its darkly inflected beauties. The Cikadas ebb and keep on ebbing, inching ever closer to shoreline structures as Johansen’s nuanced descriptions ever so barely edge the frame. An auspicious, postludinal beginning to an album of rich variety.

Seim’s thematic voice achieves deeper traction in such tunes as “Bhavana” and “Obecni Dum.” In both, the strings play a vital role in shaping the contexts in which, respectively, saxophone and accordion find purchase. Whether the slide of Seim’s earthy song or the moth-like pursuit of Haltli’s accordioning, there is in all of it something sacred. Even the restless “Fort-Jazz” brings with it a consistency of atmosphere, a fox hibernating in want of rampant spring.

Johansen brings that thaw with three pieces of starkly agitated character. In both “Mmball” and “Deluxe,” his drums are front and center. The latter especially recalls Hal Russell’s exuberant storytelling, all the while heightening the strings’ integration. Bisecting them is “Funebre,” an excerpt from Witold Lutosławski’s 1964 String Quartet that breathes with much the same looseness of structural integrity. This leaves “Uten Forbindelse,” a jazz spring ever on the verge of uncoiling toward infinity. Brække is the clear winner here, spawning as he does an outpouring of spirited exchanges and merging with Seim until the final trill sets them free.

The trombonist, in fact, edges past his co-leaders with five pieces to his name. Brække’s work lies somewhere between that of Seim and Johnansen, balancing the former’s weathered sound with the latter’s spontaneity to varying degrees. Notables include the whimsical “Flipper,” which takes full advantage of the group’s sound colors, and “Plukk,” which charts a subtle interplay of light drumming, pianism, and pizzicato filigree. “Sen Kjellertango” is another eye-opener, a slinky groove anchored by cello and punctuated by soprano saxophone, trumpet, accordion, and drums to dazzling effect.

Two free improvisations round out the set list. Wallumrød and Johansen touch off “Number Eleven” with their patience, overturning stone after stone, until the promise of subterranean force pushes through like a bud. The surrender is tender and blends into surrounding forest like a hunter. “Tutti Free” brings us back to a winter wilderness, dotted by fresh footprints of escape.

Those who enjoyed Bent Sørensen’s Birds and Bells may want to give this one a test spin. The scenography Seim has constructed here is of the highest integrity and practically assures the bending of a curious ear.

Trygve Seim
Sangam

Trygve Seim tenor and soprano saxophones
Håvard Lund clarinet, bass clarinet
Nils Jansen bass saxophone, contrabass clarinet
Arve Henriksen trumpet
Tone Reichelt french horn
Lars Andreas Haug tuba
Frode Haltli accordion
Morten Hannisdal cello
Per Oddvar Johansen drums
Øyvind Brække trombone
Helge Sunde trombone
String Ensemble
Christian Eggen conductor
Recorded October 2002 and March 2004 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Jan Erik Kongshaug
Produced by Manfred Eicher

Jazz is typically honed through interaction and a sense of shared community. One can also find in its heart a chambered, hermetic science. Trygve Seim’s Sangam validates both conceptions in a seamless infusion of liberatory and deferential impulses. As much a nod to Gil Evans as it is folk music of an undiscovered country, it is in some ways a “jazzier” album compared to its predecessor, Different Rivers, while in others it stretches the mold of that internationally acclaimed ECM debut to a larger yet no-less-defined shape. Accordion virtuoso Frode Haltli is a new voice in Seim’s milieu, as are clarinetist Håvard Lund and Cikada Quartet cellist Morten Hannisdal—all of whom contribute organically and without pretense to this program’s meditative and often astonishing sound.

More than ever, Seim’s atmospheres carry a cinematic charge in their subcutaneous circuitry. The fade-in comes with Lund’s bird-like solo. He introduces the title track with a call to unify, thus opening the brass choir as might the sun tickle the pollen from morning glories. A close-up on the film’s protagonist comes with the sweet, flavorful swing of “Dansante,” in which Haltli’s accentuations set up a handful of dramatic reveals. The camera seems to follow every footstep from childhood to adulthood in “Beginning an Ending.” Trumpeter Arve Henriksen provides the melodic lead, etching a runway for the soul. With these flight preparations underway, we feel ourselves swept up in the potential for winged existence. Hannisdal’s bow articulates a line of sight, a smoke trail fading in the sky like a healing scar, leaving bluest skin behind.

Conductor Christian Eggen (cf. a string of Terje Rypdal crossovers, including Undisonus and Q.E.D.) leads a string ensemble in the four-part suite “Himmelrand i Tidevand.” A film within a film, it acts as a talisman for the surrounding material. The subterranean whispers of Part I trace a sister song to Górecki’s Third Symphony in its upward expansions. Whether or not the similarity is conscious, its effect is strong. Seim’s eastward predilections come fully throated in Part II, emoting flexibly against the drone. Henriksen glows again in Part III through terrain of creek and glen. He guides a poised art from Point A to Point Z. At this point, if not already, we realize something cosmic is going on here as Haltli and Nils Jansen (on bass saxophone) point their telescopes toward a supernova’s quiet domain. Part IV gives us the end-title sequence, tranquil and smooth.

Returning to the narrative proper, a breathy “Trio” spawns quiet reflections from drummer Per Oddvar Johansen. Deeper brass tightens its emotional resolve in the face of impending doom, a gaseous planet in mourning. Hands come together in the concluding (but not conclusive) “Prayer,” a jewel of strings that lifts us beyond the pale of our emotional boundaries. Haltli’s bellows remind us of our earthly lives while brushed drums rustle like the leaves of Heaven: a foundation broken, dissolved, and washed down a throat of silence.