Saturday, 14 November 2015

Plowing one's own furrow

This is a review of a gig that James Farm gave at Saffron Hall

More views of - or before - Cambridge Film Festival 2015 (3 to 13 September)
(Click here to go directly to the Festival web-site)

15 November

This is a review of a gig that James Farm gave at Saffron Hall on Saturday 14 November 2015

As Joshua Redman (tenor (and also alto) saxophone) made us aware, as spokesman / leader, all of the compositions were by members of James Farm, the sidemen being Aaron Parks (on piano (and Rhodes keyboard)), Eric Harland (drums / percussion), and Matt Penman (double-bass)


Set-list (one undivided set) :

 1. Two steps ~ Matt Penman

 2. If by air ~ Joshua Redman

 3. Unknown* ~ Aaron Parks

4. City folk ~ Joshua Redman

run together with

5. Farms ~ Aaron Parks

 6. Aspirin ~ Joshua Redman

 7. North star ~ Eric Harland
Encore :

 8. Otherwise ~ Aaron Parks




The gig at Saffron Hall (@SaffronHallSW) opened with the full quartet of James Farm (@jamesfarmmusic), because sometimes it dropped down to the classic trio of piano, bass and drums when Redman wandered around to the other side of the stage for a breather, and ‘to listen in’, and with Penman’s (1) ‘Two steps’ : with Harland (drums), Penman laid down a bass-pattern, overlaid by Parks (on piano), and then Redman came in softly on tenor.

 With time, Redman moved to a breathy voice, with a slightly ‘flattened’, melancholic tone, and this was the first in a versatile employment, across the set, of differing tone-qualities and timbres. In this, he was amply matched by Parks, who evoked a rain-drenched mood before, not for the last time with these numbers, this one became syncopated. That paved the way for some bluesy playing from Redman, which was also go-ahead, exploring soulful aspects of the tune in honeyed terms – the overall feel was incredibly loose and sassy as it concluded.


Apart from gentle cymbals, Redman gave a solo statement of the theme of his (2) ‘If by air’, and, as the others joined in, his playing was freely placed and elegiac. As he dropped back, and we heard him more alongside Harland’s drums and Penman’s bass, there was the first of several feelings of being reminded of Keith Jarrett. Whether others sensed that, too, we were being taken, with piano textures underneath, to other places in this gig. A change of pace led into a simple, unadorned statement of the theme, which developed a rhythmic overlay, until there was a holiday / celebratory feel to the whole.

 As leader, Redman gave the impression of a skilled pilot of the quartet, but (as he did when going over to the mixing-desk) of being all right with letting the group form a trio, where Parks could be exploratory : in fact, he was rocking it, and impressing with the colours and dimensions in his playing. As the initiation of a sort of extended coda to the piece, when Redman had come back in, he gave us a style of cyclic repetition, and, with his ripples of scales, James Farm was tearing it up by the close.


At this point, and with some playful irony when saying it (pretending that he had forgotten the venue, etc.), Redman told us that it was a great honour and a true privilege to be at... Saffron Hall (and he had seemed quite surprised at the reception and attention that the first two numbers had received). More seriously, after naming the preceding items and introducing the other players and himself, he alluded to the attacks in Paris over night, and offered, as an antidote to violence and destruction, musical ‘experiences of the moment’, and, in it, the artists baring their souls as part of common humanity.


 Parks’ (3) ‘Unknown’* featured, when he presented its recursive theme solo, a prominently repeated note. Redman, now playing on alto and coming in softly with ‘tapping’ from Harland (who was using soft beaters on the drums), presented a pure, high sax tone first, and then intervallic leaps up and down. As the piece developed, the other members established a solid beat, and with ‘firm’ piano from Parks, for Redman’s warm and rounded tone, and with the energy of the beat for him to lay back on. Over time, it emerged that they were rocking up the tune, until Redman took himself out, and the pace stepped down. When he came in again, he was in a contemplative frame, and less 'bright', and ‘Unknown’ drew to a close, with Parks using the sustaining-pedal to hold a moment in the air.


Redman switched back to tenor for (4) ‘City folk’, and seemed to float notes towards us, as a dance-rhythm materialized (bossa nova ?). Penman began playing in his higher register, and introduced a tap (from the case of his bass ?) – here (as earlier in the set ?), a short unacknowledged solo, which gave way to Parks playing expansively and with drums more prominent. Again, an acoustic space to be punctuated by a feeling of purity from Redman, bringing a ‘straighter’ sound-quality. From this place, we slipped away into a clear solo for Penman, with him up and down the finger-board of the bass, and using a ‘slap’ style of playing.

Then, with cymbal added in, along with Harland clicking the rim of his drum, we heard Parks sounding wide, and nearly ‘lush’ (so the notes say ?), on piano – another spot where Harland, Penman and he just took up as a trio. With Redman’s energetic re-entry, over what turned into Messiaen-like spaced piano-chords, one became aware that the ensemble’s playing resembled a ladder, with a sense of modulating ascent – and, as earlier in the set, Harland could be seen in wonderment at Redman, as he was picking up the number and going with it :

Here, Redman was pushing – and circling – through with his sax, and with a confident and uncomplicated tone, a part of the set that felt truly at its nascent peak, for its elongated elaboration, and the punch and invention of Redman’s performance. Eventually, the number came right down to Harland using the end of his stick on the centre of a cymbal, to the subtle rattle of shells, to percussive space noises, and to minimal contributions of texture from Parks.


As ‘City folk’ ended, it was not with its absolute end, and it became clear that what turned out to be (5) ‘Farms’ (Parks) was arriving. James Farm was creatively talking matters over to itself – and in communion with itself and its thoughts – in this ‘baring of souls’, there on stage, to which Redman had drawn our attention. This is what is at the heart of what the best of jazz means, that it can have a provisionality to it, and, in that, a quality of responsiveness and spontaneity : trying may not always work, or catch the right cadence or mood, but is it not so important that the attempt is made** ?

Here, a new, dance-like riff made itself known (which felt like waltzing ?), and we heard open, ‘sounded’ figures on piano. When Redman came in, he brought a richness of tone, alongside Harland on brushes, and the use of twang in Penman’s bass-notes : his sax was moody, with short runs, accents, and held notes. Perhaps echoing an (as yet) unplaced standard, there was a ‘relaxed’ feel, with Parks balladic, expressive, urbane on piano, until we wound up to tenor to the fore, and on a strong beat. Yet, in the event, a very different ending, with piping from Redman, Harland on brushes, and Parks gently letting chords reverberate.


For Redman’s (6) ‘Apsirin’, Parks switched to a Rhodes keyboard, making sequences of three-chord statements, as if they were spoken utterances (a fall, and then a greater rise). This was a multi-patterned number, with a strong ensemble feel, and which migrated from being flowingly tender to an energized and passionate section.

 Parks now switched to a setting on the Rhodes as if of a chime, with minor bell-like overtones, and the intention, at any rate, appeared to be that Redman and he would alternate, with the former making relatively short, and fluid and increasingly faster, responses to Parks' passages. However, whether cues from Parks were being missed or not clearly given, this section did not often appear to flow, and one must credit the effort and the risk, because Parks and he did get ‘into line’, and the piece could grow, and then end with drums and the triple-chord motif.


Redman, introducing Eric Harland’s (7) ‘North star’ as the closing item, said of him that he is ‘the most optimistic’ person that he knows, and that there is not a sad song of Eric’s : the composition was also quite a challenging one, in that the beat had been multi-divided between time-signatures, with the further effect that there was an integral interruption to it (Harland is, after all, a highly experienced drummer, as well as a composer).

When Harland was laying this pattern down, one could see that the other players, such as Parks, were attempting it, but not straightaway picking it up, so all credit, again, to James Farm for playing this number from their City Folk album live, and choosing to do so as the closer. For a moment, one saw Matt Penman bowing his bass, around the time that Parks passed over to Redman, and the two of them were then left again to explore Penman’s intense bass, with Parks supporting, in the trio.

Redman, whether in response to a sudden inspiration or hearing a pre-arranged cue, then had the conundrum of getting back in from the other side of the stage, because he found that there was no navigable route between drum-kit and the bass-amp, or between Penman and the far end of the piano… When back on (he jumped over, past his own playback speaker), he produced an echoey, transparent tone, and then the drums came up, Penman’s bass became strong, and Redman presented what sounded like strokes in Morse.

Between them, with Redman fleetingly placing notes over the top, Harland and Parks were growing the sound, until they fell back into a quieter mode, to which Redman added a ‘wider’, more open sax-tone, and started blending in and out of the whole. Later, as he moved in and out of the groove, came scales (or fragments of them) and trills, and then the overall sensation became that of pulsation, and of a textured backdrop to a driving force. Just before the close and a decrescendo, Redman started playing more breathily, and we ended with drums, strummed bass-notes, and a short flash of harmonics.


Needless to say, a very appreciative house was intent on making clear that it would not be satisfied without hearing a little more…

Building on his earlier irony, Joshua Redman suggested that it was going to be a surprise that James Farm (@jamesfarmmusic) was going to give Saffron Hall (@SaffronHallSW) ‘another song’ – after all that applause seeking it !

It was (8) ‘Otherwise’, one more by Aaron Parks (and from the new album – or, as Redman put it, from the second of the last two albums - which, he went on to say, are the only two albums – yet...).

Parks presented something funkyish, even slightly spooky, before becoming more rhythmic, and Redman now adopted a more relaxed intonation, but with a hint of angularity. The initial ‘feel’ from the group was as smooth as Henry Mancini’s title-theme from The Pink Panther (1963), but later reminded a little, quite appropriately, of Keith Jarrett : his so-called European quartet again (especially the albums Belonging and My Song), with the rise and fall as of Garbarek on sax, and a swinging piano style and a Jarrett-type ‘punch’.

Redman’s tenor soon became more pulsing in nature, and pushing the song forward with his playing, as well as making note repetition part of his expression – and with Parks using the structure of his chord progressions to create a tension. From that, Redman brought us back into the initial smooth section, and, after momentarily giving us some funk, the very end was sax flutter-notes and drums.


Reluctantly, members of the audience at Saffron Hall accepted that the gig was over, and pretty much on schedule, and queued to buy their CDs and get them signed...









End-notes

* The title ‘Unknown’ chimed with a discussion about names of works and bands before the gig (it has been told that ‘James Farm’ derives from those of the group’s members, which at least seems to hold good for J[oshua] + A[aron] + M[att] + E[ric]), in which one observation had been that, since the start of the twentieth century – and no doubt highly confusingly so for curators ! – ‘Untitled’ has been a prominent label for works of art.

** Indeed, the evening's programme-notes (by Peter Bacon), once they have put the members of James Farm in their jazz and own contexts, go on to provide an overview of the tracks on the City Folk album, and then say :

 But while that may be how it all worked out on the recordings, in live concert it might evolve in a completely different way. Aaron Parks has remarked that the real challenges in playing with James Farm are not only in finding ways to improvise over the song-based structure that the band favours, but also in dealing with the unpredictability of these always adventurous and challenging musicians. […]




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

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)