I had been thinking quite a bit recently about the Prague '84 quartet concert, intending to dig it out and play it - I don't own a proper "hard copy" of this CD, but I do have a CD-r that a friend burned for me, back in the days when I was actively collecting as much of B's stuff as I could get my hands on* - but hadn't yet got round to that when, lo and behold, an obliging Youtuber stuck it up online.
Before I get to the specifics of this actual concert, then, we have to get the "frame story" out of the way...
These days, where B's name is known at all, it is probably fair to say that it's associated quite strongly with GTM in particular, and with some of the other later developments in his music/thought system; so that we may already have passed the time when jazzheads would talk of his "great quartet" as if that marked the pinnacle of his music (... and all downhill from there; mind you, some older jazzheads - not so many of those guys left these days - would try to tell you that nothing B. recorded after the 70s is really worth hearing... all that means of course is that they stopped paying attention at that point). Nonetheless, the mid-80s band retains a definite cachet among the better-informed creative music listeners out there, and when we look back from where we are now, it's very easy to see that the quartet with Crispell, Dresser and Hemingway was a band in which B. invested a great deal of time and effort - and one which rewarded him with special performances, resulting in a number of very special recordings. There's even a book about them! Graham Lock's justly-celebrated Forces in Motion details the band's 1985 UK tour, just in case anyone is not already aware of that marvellous book; for obvious reasons, that line-up is sometimes known as the Forces in Motion Quartet. - Hence, the appearance in the discography of this "prequel" line-up, with Crispell and Hemingway already in place but John Lindberg still holding down the bass chair, inevitably has the feel of a band on the verge of becoming a classic group, but not quite there yet. Wouldn't it have been nice and neat if that line-up had been convened all at once, out of nowhere, as it were? But of course life seldom works out like that... and in this case, the band came together gradually, with all the lines blurred as B. continued to develop his musical strategies and (in particular) to redefine the possibilities of what his core working group, his creative ensemble, could do.
Back in 1979, the working group - the creative ensemble, for which the extended composition books were written** - comprised Ray Anderson, Lindberg and Thurman Barker. It seems likely that B. would have known Barker (who is only a few years younger) for a while, but in any case, the first appearance I can find for any of these three players in the discography was, as it happens, the same one for all three of them: the 1978 expanded-and-enhanced Creative Orchestra (Köln) 1978 - largely an all-star affair, which the more famous 1976 version hadn't been, really - features Anderson as one of three trombonists, Lindberg as one of two bassists and (of course) Barker on drums and percussion. This album was recorded on May 12th; B. played again with Barker - and six other percussionists*** - on Roscoe Mitchell's "The Maze", recorded on July 27th (and subsequently released as one of four side-long pieces on a Mitchell album for Nessa), but there is a notable quartet-shaped hole in the Braxton discography for 1978, although I'm absolutely sure that I remember reading somewhere# that Lindberg was already in the band at that point. In order to find the next instalments of this continuing story - the continuous development of B's small groups, as well as his writing for same - we have to skip forward to 1979, as I say: specifically, to September 1st at the Willisau J.F., and to a typically superb performance captured for release a couple of years later (and subsequent reissue a trio of times after that). The (fairly) well-known studio album by the same quartet - Seven Compositions 1978 - was actually recorded in November 1979 and released in 1980; the Moers people have a bit of a habit of being less than scrupulous with their dates. (This album, like others on Moers Music, has never been reissued on CD.)
The next small-group recording we have under B's name dates from early in the new decade## - a concert in Bologna, April 20th 1980, released (much) later as Composition No. 94 For Three Instrumentalists (1980) - sees the maestro accompanied by Anderson, yes, but with no conventional rhythm section at all; rather, the third player is guitarist James Emery - this being the sort of trio instrumentation not really seen since the days of Jimmy Giuffre. [The relevance of this to the matter in hand is to demonstrate how B's approach to the creative ensemble books only ever constitutes one aspect of the music(s) with which he is actively involved at any given time.] Once again, whatever configuration the regular, working group had in 1980 is not recorded by way of the official discography; and things don't necessarily get much clearer in 1981, but in January of that year, we do see the first appearance of Marilyn Crispell. Again, this is not a working group, but a one-off line-up for a specific piece of music: Composition 98. Anderson is once again included, and B. "borrowed" Hugh Ragin from Mitchell; as excellent a success as this endeavour was, over the next year or so we get no suggestion that Crispell will be continuing to work with B's groups. Indeed the next drink from the creative-ensemble well (recorded over two days in October '81, released '82) sees a completely different line-up again: Mark Helias had actually been a member of B's group before, in 1977; but that's really a red herring, since at this point B. is basically just using Anthony Davis' rhythm section, including Davis himself. Either there was no working group at this stage, or for whatever reason, B. chose not to take it into the studio for this date; the results are so fabulous that however it came about, we can all be suitably grateful for the way things turned out###.
OK, so... you get the idea: there is no clear-cut continuity as regards the core quartet during this period. - Or, at least, if there was then that's not - yet - reflected in the official discography: where B. was getting the chance to do recording sessions, he was using these either for special projects, or for one-off line-ups (sometimes both). In 1982, he cuts a duo album with Lindberg; it's tempting to say that this itself implies the latter had a certain degree of familiarity with B's music at this stage, but it doesn't necessarily indicate anything of the sort. Really, we have to wait until the following year again for the definitive evidence of Lindberg's continued involvement: Four Compositions (Quartet) 1983 is clearly the latest instalment of the working group's on-off narrative, Lindberg and George Lewis are both back in place, and we finally now get the first appearance of Gerry Hemingway. Obviously, with this two-horn instrumentation, we are nonetheless some way removed from what will later be considered the "great quartet"... ultimately, regardless of what may have been going on in the undocumented background, as far as the official recorded output is concerned we don't get our first look at the prototype for the "Forces" group until 1984. In September of that year, a quartet with Crispell, Lindberg and Hemingway goes into the studio to lay down some brand-new stuff; the following month, the same group is out on the road in Europe, unveiling (some of) the same material... and that, finally, is where we came in.
In retrospect, we can see 1983-4 as a watershed period. The 1983 quartet with Lewis features one (lengthy) new piece and three from the fourth creative ensemble book, which latter pieces had presumably been kicking around in one form or another for some time; Lewis is a familiar partner-in-crime by this point, whilst Lindberg represents a sort of continuity at least (we know he has been around B's music since 1979 at the latest, even if his presence in the band(s) has been far from constant), and Hemingway is a completely new presence. The instrumentation itself is a throwback to the working group from the mid-seventies, but the approach is rather new and Comp. 105a, at any rate, is a very different type of territory from anything which we would have heard (at least from the quartet) during 1974-6. Significantly, 1983 also marks the point at which B's album covers begin to list both the graphic titles and the opus numbers together. The definitive switch occurs when Lewis - who was probably only ever "moonlighting", rather than (re)joining as such - is replaced by Crispell, whose multi-linear approach to her instrument finally opens up for B. a whole new dimension to the small-group music he is writing at this point, offering a set of possibilities which he didn't have when he was composing with two single-line instruments in mind. Yes, he has worked with pianists before on his small-group music, but always on a "special guest" basis. I don't know when it became clear that Crispell was actually staying put for a while - in 1981 she was almost certainly hired for that one specific gig (which just happened to encompass a studio recording as well as at least one live rendition of the same piece^) - but with her in the band, B. can now start thinking in a subtly different way. How important Hemingway was to this approach may or may not have been immediately obvious. As for Lindberg, at the very least B. must have felt that the bassist's training and experience gave him enough of a thorough grounding to be able to participate in this increasingly-complex new direction he was going to take. The collage phase is not yet fully up and running, but all the elements which contributed to it are already in place, now; or are they..?
So we finally arrive in Prague. The germination of the collage approach is already underway, albeit at this prototypical stage that consists solely in the addition of pulse tracks to a couple of the pieces: these are the same hybrids which were already worked out in the studio, which is to say Comp. 110a (+108b) and Comp 114 (+108a). This is just the leading edge of an experiment which will preoccupy B's compositional mind for the next seven or eight years, even while he is working on other strategies (and doubtless glimpsing yet further ones); but having said that, although the track listings may only show these two tiny additions, Crispell is already taking the music in that direction, her incredible extended solo on the Prague reading of Comp. 105a being so far-out that (certainly as far as the audience of the time is concerned) she might as well have been playing a completely different piece from the rest of the band. Perhaps this had already been discussed between them, and perhaps not; either way, Crispell - who was (of course) formatively influenced by Cecil Taylor - has a natural tendency to play in such a way as to suggest plural, parallel musical ideas unfolding (at least when she really gets going^^); and this makes her the perfect vehicle for what B. goes on to do next. Hemingway, too, sounds so naturally suited to the resulting complex territory that it's impossible to imagine anyone could have provided a better fit. And Lindberg..? Well... actually no, this isn't quite true of him, although I doubt that even the most switched-on listener, or the harshest critic, would have really concluded that at the time.
Coming back to this album as I did - immediately after immersing myself in the ZIM septet - I was struck at first by how simple this music sounds by comparison (not, one suspects, an impression that the 1984 audience had of it). Recognisable compositions, played one after another! and so on. But even then, it took only a few minutes before the impression of simplicity was dispelled: once Crispell is properly warmed up, the music becomes essentially complex (as well as vibrant and exciting - but those qualities are very often found in B's music, of any vintage). The rapturous applause which breaks out at around 18 minutes^^^, when the piano solo finishes, gives some indication of how stunning the effect must have been on those witnessing this. In any case, this post is not the place for a detailed analysis of the music played in the concert: simple-by-comparison-with-later-developments, and complex-in-its-own-right, the music is just pure pleasure to listen to from start to finish. Lindberg, continually busy and creative in his own way, absolutely plays a part in this; still, I am not listening to the music with the ears of one who was present at the time, but with a very different and vastly-more-informed perspective (this is not arrogance, but rather a helpless acknowledgement of how much of B's later music I have already heard before I returned to this recording). I can hear the extent to which Crispell and Hemingway both sound ideally suited to the long-term experiment which is beginning here; and I can't avoid hearing the extent to which Dresser will later complement them, in a way Lindberg cannot. Above all, it's the latter's arco technique, which is idiosyncratic and creative, but lacking in the authority of Holland (and Helias) before him, and has nowhere near the majestic control which Dresser would later bring... I still don't know exactly what happened in Amsterdam, a little later down the line - so that a first set played by a quartet was followed by a second played by a trio, the bass present on the stage while its owner sat at the bar, having been summarily fired in the interval; but with hindsight, it can be seen how essential that was to the eventual development of the music. Dresser, in Europe on a scholarship to study privately with one of the Italian masters, would prove to be a fourth virtuoso to match the other three; Lindberg, for all his undoubted talents, can only suffer by direct comparison.
But... that's still in the future at this point: like I say, taken just as a listening experience on its own merits, this concert offers any friendly experiencer an hour of sophisticated delight. Lindberg plays his part, and the knowledge that he wouldn't be around for much longer need not obscure that.
***
Kobe Van Cauwenberghe's Ghost Trance Septet album, you'll be pleased to hear, is every bit as brilliant as I hoped it would be...
* ... back in the "golden age of music blogging", i.e. sometime around 2007. Of course, I am actively collecting again now - but official releases only, having quite enough to work with in general, and no present need to solicit copies of anything (much)... in case anyone is wondering, I don't feel guilty about having pirated copies of any of this stuff, nor would B. expect me to.
** Even B. himself has been known to refer to the 6 series, the 23 series etc as "the quartet music", but as I have written before - in these pages, years ago - they weren't written for quartet as such; rather, they represent music for "the creative ensemble", which in this case happened to be (usually) a quartet. Nuance ;-)
*** The piece was for eight percussionists; only two of the ones on the recording - Barker and (Famoudou) Don Moye, were actually percussionists, i.e. in their "day jobs". Mitchell himself, Braxton, Joseph Jarman and Malachi Favors (like Moye, cohorts of Mitchell's from the Art Ensemble of Chicago), Douglas Ewart and Henry Threadgill were the other six.
# Actually I'm pretty sure this was gleaned from one of the books of Composition Notes, but they are not precisely accessible at present (even though I know exactly where they are)...
## Since I allow full licence to my own pedantry in these parts - indeed, I insist upon it - I feel compelled to note that technically the year 1980 was of course the final year of the seventies, not the first year of the eighties. But nobody actually counts that way, do they?
### The Antilles album Six Compositions: Quartet is a personal favourite of mine. It also happens to be the only opportunity, as far as I know, to hear Ed Blackwell playing on a Braxton record.
^ I'm pretty sure there were several live performances of Composition 98, not just the one which appeared on the original double album (... and which has never been reissued on CD). But I can't be arsed to check right now.
^^ When leading her own dates, and playing her own compositions, Marilyn Crispell can be a much more simple, lyrical player (though I daresay that's not always the case). Put her in fast company, playing other people's music, and she transforms into a completely different beast. (Or so it has always seemed to me.)
^^^ Timing is from the Youtube video, rather than the CD (which has separate indexations for the festival announcer's spoken intro and for the uninterrupted set).
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