Daily Archives: July 4, 2013


FIJM Day 3: These Are Good Days


After a rehearsal for tonight’s show with Sarah Linhares (her Montreal farewell), I headed down to the FIJM site for saxophonist Chet Doxas and his band Muse Hill. The group was formed a while ago with bassist Morgan Moore, multi-instrumentalist Joe Grass, and the Barr brothers. I had missed their shows in town previously and was really intrigued by the group. I’ve seen the Barrs in various different settings, from the jamminess of The Slip to their improvisations in the latter days of the Moondata sessions. I was extremely curious what Chet’s tunes for this band would be, and how Brad and Andrew would co-exist with Doxas and Moore.The set opened with a soundscape of processed air, with Brad using his customized string-scraping system to create a beautiful drone over which Morgan soloed. Chet often has this yearning, anthemic quality to his writing and to his tenor sound that was at the forefront of this set. The melody of “Image & Nation” was fairly diatonic in nature, and Doxas launched into a highly contrasting, chromatic solo over the churning brothers Barr. They are both phenomenal colourists, Brad with a full pedalboard of effects and Andrew with various percussive tools. Brad doesn’t have the same harmonically complex improvisational language as Doxas, which makes him a novel foil and affects the dynamics of the group in a remarkable way. With Joe Grass’ absence from this show, everyone had a little more space that they could occupy. Comparing this group to Brian Blade’s Fellowship Band is an obvious one to make, and it’s not entirely a complete picture of what Muse Hill represents, but there is a kinship in the soaring aspects of the compositions (something Doxas shares with fellow Montrealer Christine Jensen) and in the pairing of saxophone and guitar.The middle of the set contained two highlights: a striking duo between Doxas and Brad Barr, with a chiming twang to the sound, resolved itself into a captivating version of “I Loves You Porgy.” The band proceeded into the gonzo blues of “Hunter S. Thompson,” replete with an interlude of Doxas playing a transcription of Thompson’s interview on the Dick Cavett show.

I split from Astral early to get over to Cinquieme Salle for British pianist Gwilym Simcock, and was greeted by a sign notifying me that due to flight delays, the show would start one hour later than planned. I used the time to get caffeinated and fed, and then took my seat directly overlooking the keyboard. A charming, funny Simcock came out and immediately addressed the audience, apologizing for his delay and introducing the first tune, “These Are The Good Days,” by saying, “Even after a day like this, being a musician is the best way to spend one’s life. After 11 hours of travel, it’s a privilege to get to play one’s instrument.” A rhythmically active left-hand ostinato grounded various suspended chords. Simcock shifted key centres with ease and fluidity, and concluded the piece with strummed chords and internal piano percussion. His lengthy, sometimes tangential explanations of his songs offered truly fascinating context into his life and his music – I would have interpreted his rendition of “On Broadway” in a completely different manner than he described it. If need be, Simcock could pursue a second career as a stand-up comic. His brilliant pan-tonal sensibility – lines that extend outward almost like a harmonic series – can be chalked up to his early love for Russian classical composers. Simcock’s meditation on the middle movement of the Grieg Piano Concerto was breathtaking.

From there, I headed out to the lot on Clark and Ste-Catherine, now home to two stages. Saxophonist Becky Noble was performing music from her recently released album with her sextet, with Mike Bjella taking Chet Doxas’ place. I know Becky’s music really well, having studied with her at McGill, subbed in her rehearsals, and performing with her in Banff eight years ago. She sounded even better than her recent set at L’Astral. Unfortunately, Marie-Fatima Rudolf’s piano was far too low in the mix until three minutes before the end of the set, and the pastoral beauty of Noble’s tunes had to compete with the blaring blues stage across the street. Like her mentors the Jensen sisters and Maria Schneider, there’s a lot of pretty and subtle details in Becky’s music that got lost on the outdoor stage. On the other side of the parking lot, Toronto vocalist Maylee Todd took over at 10 pm. She’s our new indie-soul “it” girl, and the vast majority of her set didn’t grab me at all. I wonder how much of that was due to sound issues – it felt like the right speaker column only kicked in ten minutes into her set, and moments in tunes that should have properly smacked me in the face came off limp and without dynamic. I’d like to see her in a smaller club to get a better sense of what she does and how she sounds.

– David Ryshpan –> see his blog Settled in Shipping for more!

Show Review: Wayne Shorter Quartet @ Montreal Jazz Fest


FIJM – Wayne Shorter 80th birthday celebration

The first Saturday of the 2013 Montreal Jazz Festival was full of fantastic indoor shows, but the choice was made clear at the very outset of the programming. To celebrate Wayne Shorter’s 80th birthday, he was returning with his Quartet to Théâtre Maisonneuve. If seeing the Quartet – one of the most riveting and fascinating bands around – was not enough, it was a triple bill completed by Trio ACS (Geri Allen, Teri Lyne Carrington, and Esperanza Spalding) and Sound Prints, the quintet co-led by Dave Douglas and Joe Lovano.

After a half-hour delay that had the room at the brink of impatience, ACS took the stage. Teri Lyne Carrington, obscured by a large leaf-shaped cymbal, began with a flurry of activity on the kit and then settled into a backbeat. Geri Allen began with a series of symmetrical chords, carving space in Carrington’s drum sound. Carrington integrated some early hip-hop edginess, and demonstrated her role as a precursor to drummers like Chris Dave and Jamire Williams. Though the piano was low in the mix until the closing tune, Allen’s ideas were clear and had a real forward motion to them. It was my first time seeing Esperanza Spalding as a bassist only, and it was a revelation. Her solos were patient, and sounded exactly like the melodies she composes for herself to sing. It was evident how unified an artist she has become. Her tone, too, was remarkable – even in the grandeur of Maisonneuve, it sounded like the sound was just coming from only her bass, round yet focused. ACS’ approach was similar to Wayne’s – Shorter’s indelible melodies would poke out of roiling, at times hypnotically pulsating, improvisation.

If Trio ACS represented Wayne Shorter the improviser, Sound Prints reflected upon Wayne Shorter the composer. This isn’t necessarily new territory for Dave Douglas, whose early 2000s sextet recorded an album, Stargazer, with a similar conceit. That record, like the concert, featured powerhouse drummer Joey Baron. It was a thrill to see that the hook-up between Douglas and Baron in full force after a decade. Douglas was on fire throughout the set, with power and control throughout all registers of the horn. He was fairly quote-happy too, throwing out nods to Shorter classics “Juju,” “Footprints,” and Thelonious Monk’s “Epistrophy.” Baron gleefully responded to every nuance, sometimes with sensitivity, at other times with shit-disturbing steamrolling interruptions. Joe Lovano’s tenor sound is still as characteristically gruff and deep as I remember it. His compositions sounded as indebted to Wayne (and Wayne’s partnerships with trumpeters like Lee Morgan and Freddie Hubbard) as it was to the pairing of Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry.  Bassist Linda Oh used the same instrument and amp as Esperanza and got a totally different sound out of it – far more electrified and almost rubbery. She was a truly captivating soloist and entirely attuned to Baron’s playing. With two highly personal soloists up front and the rhythmic deluge from the drums, pianist Lawrence Fields seemed to have difficulty carving out his place in the music. Never mind the fact that he also had the unenviable position of occupying the piano bench between Geri Allen and Danilo Perez! He has tremendous facility on the instrument and he played some truly moving blues, but his contributions as an accompanist often got lost.

My notebook got put away during intermission. Wayne’s current quartet, more than a decade into it, is exceedingly difficult to write about in the moment. I wanted to be present and not scribbling away on a pad, anyway. The Quartet creates an endlessly changing quilt of sound, with responsiveness that borders on telepathy. As the band took the stage, someone in the audience initiated a singalong of the traditional French Québécois birthday song (“mon cher ami, c’est à ton tour de te laisser parler amour”), which the trio of Danilo Perez, Brian Blade and John Patitucci seized upon. It set the mood for the Quartet’s entire set, and in a way let the audience into the process of how the band transforms melodic ideas. Compared to last year, Wayne played way more saxophone. I would say he split time equally between tenor and soprano, and his sound on both was far fuller and consistent than the previous year. He began with short, darting declarations and worked his way to more involved passages. The final climax of the set was so intense – Perez hammering dissonant chords at maximum volume, Blade addressing his kit with such ferocity the bass drum skidded out by two feet – I felt something physically shift inside me, and I was vibrating for nearly an hour after the set ended. Due to Blade’s physicality, the playfully funky encore of “S.S. Golden Mean” was marred a bit by various microphone glitches. No matter – the music spoke far above the technical issues. As he celebrates his 80th birthday, Shorter is still every bit the “weather man,” as Joe Lovano called him. “He lets you know what’s happening and he can predict the future.”

– David Ryshpan