Showing posts with label James Maddren. Show all posts
Showing posts with label James Maddren. Show all posts

Thursday 2 December 2021

Can’t wait to play for you... And it doesn’t feel weird ! : Trish Clowes with her My Iris Quartet at Cambridge Modern Jazz on Thursday 27 May at 7.30 p.m. (uncorrected proof)

Trish Clowes with her My Iris Quartet at Cambridge Modern Jazz on Thursday 27 May at 7.30 p.m.

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2019 (17 to 24 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

27 May (posted 2 December 2021)




Trish Clowes with her My Iris Quartet at Cambridge Modern Jazz on Thursday 27 May at 7.30 p.m.

Can’t wait to play for you... And it doesn’t feel weird ! [work in progress (uncorrected proof)]






Alongside fluency in and between registers¹, what one can also slow down to hear in Clowes' playing,
behind the clarity of her runs (which Clowes will elide to suit the musical mood or purpose),
is a measure of restraint, of careful placement

Jean-Paul Belmondo


The gig proper – a run-through, as one Covid-informed set, for 75 mins – begins with (1) a jaunty and literally up-beat opener, taking us immediately to the experience and expectation that syncopation, rim-taps, and an emphasis as well as on rhythmicity as on melodic line or material were the things around which this instrumentation-led group of music-makers coalesce and find their means of coherence.

So it was that an early electric-organ solo 'sounded the note of' funk, and Stanley then went on to provide a soft undertow to Clowes – any solos in this gig were just there, and were not in need of / did not invite the apparent appreciation of applause : in a gig like this one, and with a wholly engaged ensemble cast (albeit with Clowes as clear leader), it gets in the way of the ensemble (and mar what one would value).


(2) 'Time', by deliberate contrast, more resembled a ballad, gently, optimistically and unapologetically romantic in the form of its soaring statement on sax, but then, by way of a slightly Caledonian (Hibernian ?) groove and drone, there was an emanating sense of hours that hang a bit too heavily, which yet, by noodling on, one gets past.

Another outright, if brief, statement of the thematic material made way for a slurring and skirling of the tenor-sound, and took us into what, poetically, felt as if they might be the squalliness of sails, and that they (or we) were in the wind and the sky !

Tweet (to come)

(3) 'Almost' began in a free vein, in which the sensation continued of being connected with a world external to the physical venue, of seeing – or even being ? – a bird, coasting on thermal-currents, or of a brook, being followed upstream.

As to both overall content and Clowes' own tone-colour and ambit of palette, there seemed to be, in and beyond the music played, a personal and organic observation and reflection that saw the inner through the outer – or through the other – and its seeming exteriority.


A segue of rim-taps and alterations in tempo and rhythm brought us to the firstlings of Montague's and Clowes' playing off each other, which is one of this quartet's greatest depths. This approach to being present and open to, and as aware as possible of, each other, and – in gigging that already creatively extends the mere (pre)text of a song or tune – an act of addition that seems to exceed the available forces :

For, at times, perhaps we had glimpses here of something more certain or more visible than that which we know (or know that we know), and also the sensation, in the very instant of their vanishing, that other things do and can become tangible.


In (4) 'Amber', a new work from, with or for an old-established cellist collaborator² (and written in the name of the person behind Donate4Refugees), Clowes gave us elements of note-patterns³, and a querulous riff, which, with Montague, became a call-and-response of riffs, before a switch of time-signature [...]



Writing, and performing it, with a sense of place and of its intenseness



(5) 'Morning song' proved to embody tonal uncertainty in what, at first, seemed an open and frank tune from the heart, and which when Montague picked it up, became as if that now-uncertain heart had lurched into a sudden and terrifying perception of the vertiginous actuality of the moment. (Those who have ever experienced an unspecific, but doom-laden, anxiety would have related to that dread moment.)

Moving past which, however, Clowes made a bluesily contemplative re-visit to the initial material, and, joined again by Montague, one could easily imagine a couple, smooching alone on the dance-floor, as evening breakers crashed on the shore-line. (Well, Th'Agent could !)


Again – as in the aside for 'Morning song' (with Clowes saying that it was so called because she wrote it in the morning) – Clowes could not resist describing (6) 'No idea' as 'Another amazing title' – and its start did seem to evoke seeking around, without finding (or else rooting around, but not giving up ?)


In any case, maybe a little as with Bridget Riley's Hesitate (1964) [alluded to above], the material then centres on a falling interval (which 'might' have been an echo of a bird-call* ?), but soon differently modulated, stressed or breathed through, before widening out into another rockin' / stomping section, full of creations and warmth, and a wealth of ideas and optimism.


Yet Clowes, keeping it back and under, and then seeming to resume with the initial thematic content - whereas, perhaps, it was only to bring on the abruptness of the number's ending ?



NB This is where the review 'collapses into' rough expansions / transcriptions / interpretations of the gig-notes...



(7) Riffy opening and to and fro, as to the lead playing, between Clowes and Montague. Then, more Morse-coded marks, gestures or tics led into what felt a haunted, echoic and ruminative soundtrack, perhaps for a noir that exists only on the level of sound ? (As Clowes confirmed afterwards having said on other occasions, she has found inspiration before in the cinematic work of a film-maker friend) – yet one, or of how we feel about ourselves in this (or any ?) world.


In a coda, in and during which the humour of Maddren, more and more theatrically and obviously shuffling and rummaging in his sticks – until all were brought into both hands, and then propelled onto the surface of part of his drum-kit, brought on a broader smile and a snort of appreciation.

Left with Montague, the tempo slowed, the texture broadened outward and into a feeling of nourishment, and a quiet close.



In announcing the final piece, Clowes made it clear that she had had our experience that 'The church sounds amazing !', and straightaway added to that comment A keeper ! (Afterwards, with friends, etc., there seemed to be agreement that the venue's carpeted flooring and other upholstery, as well as the natural construction of the space, makes for a very suitable acoustic.)

Arrival (2016)



(8) 'Free to fall' (from the album Ninety Degrees Gravity) had the feel of a ballad in a folk idiom, being breezily and calmingly mused over.

However, when we moved into the main section, at a fast tempo and with off-beats and the other features of the quartet's style, there was a hinting at bowing-out in a joyous and jubilant moment.

In fact, even if by way of a high-magisterial rock-style solo from Montague, there was a breathy and slow and calmed end to the gig.


The show was over, but we weren’t going to be done with thinking about the atmospheres that, on the isle of this shallow dais, Clowes and the My Iris Quartet had brought before us and, so, into being. Yet, not as Prospero to Miranda, but more the magic that Miranda found herself able to work on her embittered father in her direct and unenslaved response [even if Huxley got there and (cynically ?) subverted it] :

[…] Oh, wonder !
How many goodly creatures are there here !
How beauteous mankind is ! O brave new world,
That has such people in’t ! […]



End-notes :

¹ Which #UCFF tries to invoke as smokily burnished colours in the lower one, and a more lightly coppery timbre above... ?

² Lucy Railton, one assumes (in which case, actually heard live, some time, at Cambridge Modern Jazz) ?

³ Although, when asked afterwards by #UCFF, not actually in any conscious relation to birdsong.




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Monday 18 November 2019

Report from Cambridge International Jazz Festival 2019 : Ant Law Quartet* at Caius

Report from Cambridge International Jazz Festival 2019 : Ant Law Quartet* at Caius

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2019 (17 to 24 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


18 November


Report from Cambridge International Jazz Festival 2019 : Ant Law Quartet* at Caius

Versus attempting a full gig-review (as for Julia Hülsmann Quartet* at the same venue on Friday), the unavailability of light to make detailed review-notes largely precludes it, so what follows the personnel- and set-lists is some impressions of the gig


Other personnel (alphabetical) :

* Mike Chillingworth ~ tnr
* Tom Farmer ~ db
* James Maddren ~ perc
* Ivo Neame ~ pf


First set :

1. Two Bridges
2. Harvest
3. ? ?
4. Laurvin Glaslowe
5. Pure Imagination
6. Aquilinus


Second set :

7. Entanglement
8. Our Church
9. A to Z
10. Waltz
11. Credit


Probably as a put-down to what he felt was a put-down, Antonin Dvořák is said to have diverted attention from praise for his skill in writing thematic material to that of what he then did with such themes : even if we are not one of the most famous Czech composers, we want to be valued for what we value, and one can intuit that the emphasis of comments on the material might have been experienced as a variety of ‘damning with faint praise’.


[...]



End-notes :

* At the same Festival venue, clearly a difference of opinion whether the leader stands apart (Ant Law + quartet) or is included in the nominal head-count of players (e.g. Julia Hülsmann Quartet = Hülsmann (pf) + 3 [Uli Kempendorff (tnr), Heinrich Köbberling (perc), Marc Muellbauer (db)] = 4). Other debates are available ! :






Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Thursday 27 April 2017

Postcards to Outer Space : Sarah Gillespie Band at Cambridge Modern Jazz

A mini-review of Sarah Gillespie Band at Cambridge Modern Jazz

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2016 (20 to 27 October)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


27 April

A mini-review of Sarah Gillespie Band at Cambridge Modern Jazz (at Hidden Rooms¹, Cambridge) on Thursday 27 April 2017 at 8.00 p.m.



This was a compelling evening of songs by Sarah Gillespie and her band (a quartet, in all), which had mainly been written by Sarah Gillespie herself (@Stalkingjuliet / sarahgillespie.com), and which she performed with energy and sincerity.

Often bluesy in style (she identified Bessie Smith as someone to whom she looks), her vocal-quality was always full and emotive, e.g. a heartfelt 'St James Infirmary', which, in introducing it, she located for us as partly her version (it is on the Glory Days album - please see below), partly Armstrong's.

She also does not choose to stick to one register within a song : it is clear that, if it fits better to place sections in her higher range, but contrast them with the effect of using the lower part of her voice, she will do so. (However, she does it so naturally and well that one may easily not realize, which is real thought and care.)



Although Sarah Gillespie has a new album, her third, the Glory Days was most representative of what we heard across two sets, songs relating to losing her mother (there were at least six numbers from it – sitting at the front meant that one could also read the set-list on the piano...).


Personnel :

* Tom Cawley² ~ piano
* Sarah Gillespie ~ vocals and guitar
* Ruth Goller ~ double-bass
* James Maddren ~ drums





NB Regarding the poem (referred to in the Tweet above), this was in a comedic vein, and presented by Gillespie as inspired by surveying what people say about themselves to the world at large, but without seeming to realize what it tells others about them, her favourite being that 'a pink, round, bald man' was seeking the opposite of himself : in the songs generally, there is much that is observational and / or wry (as well as lyrical), but this was a chance to be openly amused by her words.


Maybe Gillespie's roots are really in country (?), but, although two numbers certainly started off in that idiom (and she readily employs its characteristic tremolos and extended vowel-sounds, or a drawled type delivery), jazz and country are, of course, broad terms – not inflexible categories.

Certainly, her fondness for the blues means that we do hear the jazz vibe and its tropes overlaid on the more open and uncomplicated sound-world of country (i.e. that often hallmarks it), and with a nice band of instrumentalists who can exploit that jazzy / bluesy territory and spin off very germane accompaniment and solos.



Another demonstration that (with the support of the regular team at Hidden Rooms¹ and John, as usual, on sound), Cambridge Modern Jazz (cambridgejazz.org / @camjazz) can be looked to for the programming of a variety of performers who will make an evening’s jazz as stimulating and of such quality as this one !



End-notes :

¹ The venue of Hidden Rooms is located on Jesus Lane in Cambridge, underneath Pizza Express (the stairs down to it are to the right of the stairs up to the pizzeria).

² The line-up originally included the Hammond supremo Kit Downes (on piano), but Cawley deputized to cover Downes’ injury to a tendon.




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)

Monday 17 March 2014

Cats are people (Kit Downes)

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2014
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)


17 March

This is a review of a gig, given at Cambridge's Hidden Rooms for Cambridge Modern Jazz (@camjazz), by the Kit Downes Quintet


As we must have been told, in various ways, more than half-a-dozen times, this was / had been an acoustic gig – perhaps that truly is a rarity, or for Kit Downes at any rate, but it did feel like pushing a unique selling point (USP) to those who, by virtue of being there, had already bought. (Maybe the USP was being hit home for the benefit of those who might hear, from us, what they had missed… ?)




Personnel :

Kit Downesupright piano

James AllsoppB Flat and bass clarinets, tenor sax

Calum Gourlaybass

James Maddrendrums

Lucy Railtoncello


Unlike some of Kit Downes’ other work, what he had written for the quintet* felt relatively composed – not in the sense of being tranquil (although some pieces definitely were), but less improvisatory (although not necessarily in the texture of his own contribution on piano). What it had was the familiar juxtaposition of moods within a piece that we know from Troyka (@Troykaband), where, as if in a set of Irish or Scottish tunes, there is a sudden, planned transition to the next section.

The first set opened with such a tranquil feel, as a way into the evening, and the ensemble was perfect, the notes of James Allsopp’s bass clarinet fitting perfectly within the scale of the harmony. The next, we were told (Downes gave the introductions, in his confident, avuncular way), had been inspired by Bill Frisell, and was a blues that built, with Allsopp, on B Flat clarinet, wailing, winding up the song**, but ultimately resolving in a quiet way, with plucked notes from Lucy Railton on cello. The third piece had an experimental feel, by now unlike the safety of the opener, with Allsopp giving us occasional blasts on his tenor sax, and with very loud unexpected knocks from James Maddren on drums.

The penultimate piece in the first set was a reflective number, in which Maddren had to keep up a complicated rhythm. Under the apparent calm of the surface, something was happening, and the piece imperceptibly built up, and then as quietly slipped away again. Ivan Hewitt’s description of Downes’ work seems apt : an engagingly slow-burn energy (The Sunday Telegraph). From B Flat, Allsopp returned to bass clarinet in a piece by bassist Gourlay called ‘Smoke’ (which he said, when Downes asked, had nothing to do with smoking), a somewhat sombre, syncopated melody, which was laced with sunnier intervals, and had a complicated theme in the upper voices.

In all of this, less mention than one might imagine of Downes himself, but he was there in all of it, setting the tempo / counting in, giving clear cues (for which Allsopp, in particular, looked expectantly), and keeping the currents under the progression at work, such that there was no doubting who was leading.

This group is an expanded form of the Kit Downes Trio, with Gourlay and Maddren (who, at the time of the release of their CD Quiet Tiger three years ago, had been playing together for six years). They are fellow graduates of the Royal Academy of Music (and Allsopp, another Academician (so is Lucy Railton), guested on the album). In fact, sometimes, what we heard did fall back on those three original players, with Railton and Allsopp patiently silent (but one would not necessarily have thought any more than we had the jazz standard of piano, bass and drums).

After the interval, the second set opened with a pair of pieces, ‘Boreal’ (from Tiger) and ‘Clowns After Dark’, the latter of which Downes explained, humorously at Allsopp’s expense, related to their early acquaintance, when Allsopp had arrived very late to a party (the other guests had gone) as a clown with a smudged appearance, whose efforts at making up might have been better performed at some other time. Another quiet opening, with Allsopp on bass clarinet, and then a jaunty number – as of a clown on the tiles ? – with a raucous solo from Allsopp.

Another pair of tunes followed, ‘Two Ones’ and ‘Bleydays’ (both from Downes’ album Light from Old Stars), the latter said to be a combined tribute to pianist Paul Bley and to t.v.’s Playdays… In the first, Railton’s cello had a keening quality to it, and as a whole the number felt like an air. Changing from Allsopp on clarinet to sax, Downes’ theme had the impression that we know from Thelonius Monk – which led some to the false interpretation that Monk did not know how to play – of music almost falling over itself in its rhythmic diversification. Rare for the gig, Downes had a solo, and then, when the others re-entered, the number ended softly with sax and drums.

The set closed with ‘Skip James’ (also from Tiger), which had the atmospheric mood of a blues, and in which Allsopp’s lower-register notes on bass clarinet fitted in beautifully with the gorgeous ensemble. Altogether, a very fine example of instrumentalists producing a sonorous whole, and some very varied effects.

When called up for an encore, Downes said that they did not often expect one, but decided, after hesitation, on ‘Owls’ – bite sized, he stressed. This is from Stars, and he said that it was in the spirit of David Lynch (the second film reference of the night). It may have been, but, with its nocturnal timbre (complete with owl calls from Maddren !), it also reminded a little of The Addams Family – although Downes predicted, regarding his choice, that it would send everyone off on a low, it was a very suitable end to the session.


End-notes

* Afterwards, Downes said that – which is the only place for him to start with a piece – everything had been with the quintet, and the skills of its players, in mind, e.g. James Allsopp’s great capacity to play in a free style, and Lucy Railton’s classical training : he is doing some gigs as a duo with her, and will be at Cheltenham (#cheltjazzfest).

** To quote the lyrics of a song on a solo album by Procol Harum’s Gary Brooker.




Unless stated otherwise, all films reviewed were screened at Festival Central (Arts Picturehouse, Cambridge)