So, having established (sort of) what Wet Ink Ensemble is, and having flagged up their live rendition of B's second species GTM piece Comp. 227, I shall now point out that other recordings from the same concert are readily available online... this, remember, is a concert where the special guests included the world-leading, small-but-perfectly-formed trumpet section of Peter Evans and Nate Wooley (and at least two Braxton alumni besides): an Anthony Braxton Portrait Concert no less.
I haven't seen a full set-list for this event. The two remaining clips I've encountered so far feature tracks originally recorded on B's legendary Arista monsterpiece Creative Orchestra Music 1976. Comp. 56 is available on Youtube, although it's a bit of an odd watch; the first 25 seconds is an introduction by the whole group, after which individual players pretty much take in turns to work out, while the rest of the musicians sit there and try not to fidget too obviously. For the first couple of minutes, indeed, this number rather comes across as an extended feature for contrabassist Greg Chudzik; towards the end of his showcase some electronics are in evidence, and around the three-minute mark, we do finally get some other entries, sparsely, from assorted horns. By the time the clock shows 4.30, pretty much everybody has had the chance for at least a quick skronk or growl, but this is a very space-filled piece, an intriguing exercise in spatiality and timbral contrast - and a glance back at my post from 2008 reminds me that the original version is, too. (It's a long time since I listened to this fabulous album... I am going to enjoy rediscovering some of this music all over again...) The 1976 recording featured Richard Teitelbaum on analog synth, present for just that one track, so I presume (though I shall refrain from checking at this point) that electronics are specified in the original instrumentation rubric for the piece. Over the course of eleven and a half minutes, everyone gets the opportunity to contribute a bit, some more than others; around the nine-minute mark, the camera comes in close on Wooley to capture him doing some of that extraordinary "overbreathing" stuff which he does so well. But besides the close footage of him, Chudzik and Eric Wubbels (doing prepared-piano-type stuff directly on his strings, around the halfway point), the main interest in watching this rather than just listening to it would seem to be the sight of Dan Peck using what looks suspiciously like an upturned waste-paper bin as a outsize mute for his tuba. [Still... after almost five years of being online, the video has attracted just a fraction over 400 views, and several of these are by me... testament to how minority-interest this stuff truly is, as if we didn't know that, but even so, do your bit and check it out -!]
The third piece - if there are more, I haven't come across them yet - is a medley, beginning with another Creative Orchestra piece - the "twisted march" Comp. 58 - and incorporating Comps. 131 & 116. There is an excerpt of this medley available on video, but the entire recording can be found on Soundcloud; somewhat perversely, the video clip fades in with only the last minute or so of Comp. 58 remaining, though it does reveal that for that part of the performance, Wubbels conducted while vocalist Kate Soper took over piano duties. For whatever reason, I found the march oddly dry and uninvolving, which is a real disappointment as the original is a personal favourite of mine. It feels like something of a copout, somehow, for the "through the looking glass" transition to be rendered solely via electronics - in the original version it's all done purely through bent-out-of-shape soloing by the horns - but that isn't the whole of the problem: rather, it's as if these serious musicians are so busy being focused that they forget to cut loose and have fun. That's ironic, because it's something which B. himself has been accused of with tedious frequency over the decades, but in his case it's seldom (if ever) true... here, the group attacks the quartet pieces with noticeably more vigour; but I must say that the lasting impression of the performances as a whole is that there was a certain something missing. It is still, of course, worth the time of any friendly experiencer to investigate.
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Just the other night, while I was rummaging around for links to the above, Youtube's algorithms belatedly offered me another New Music-style Braxton rendition, this time courtesy of a group called Ensemble Dal Niente. This performance was given in Chicago in 2019*, and the group - a nonet, plus conductor (though the music is specified "for large ensemble") - is entirely unknown to me. This time we are treated to a medley of two GTM pieces, namely Comps. 193 + 228 (the latter of which, coincidentally, comprises the primary territory for disc two of the very same Leo Records release which I linked in the previous post); I believe I am correct in saying that the one piece is first species and the other, second species GTM - but don't quote rush to quote me on that. The whole setting for this is a little weird, as the group is set up in the middle of a large room with the sparse audience scattered around, practically in amongst the actual musicians; as for the players, considering there are but nine of them and the sound comes across as well captured, the guitarist and pianist are basically inaudible throughout and the harp is mere unused furniture. The percussionist definitely gets to enjoy himself the most, though the horns and strings are also much in evidence; but the main thing that strikes the experienced experiencer about this is how very brief it is: two GTM compositions, in thirteen minutes?! All we get, of course, is the opening theme of one piece followed by the opening written theme of the next, with a tiny, ad hoc percussion solo in between; I say ad hoc, because in cueing it up, conductor Michael Lewanski scribbles something on a piece of paper with a marker, then flourishes it and gestures to percussionist Kyle Flens, before disposing of the paper; whatever he directed, it seems to have occurred to him just at that moment. I have to say, for all its startling brevity, this performance is actually pretty enjoyable, and it would be interesting to know if the group has played other Braxwerks, but it's definitely going to have to go down as a curiosity, a vignette, rather than any sort of finished interpretation.
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Finally (for now!), I recently listened to a live recording from 1975 - September 14th in NYC - of the Art Ensemble of Chicago with B. and Frank Lowe. This is not an especially great-quality recording and of the four reedmen supposedly present, you don't really hear many of them at any given time: indeed - granted that I had this on in the background while carrying out undemanding household chores - I was not really aware of Lowe or Jarman at all. Mitchell can be heard from time to time, easily identifiable by his familiar habit of interspersing stiff, stilted attacks which sound completely unschooled with rapid passages that only a virtuoso could even attempt; I was starting to wonder whether B. himself was indeed even present on the date when, at 17.15 or thereabouts, there he was: he gets a couple of minutes more or less to himself on alto, with Don Moye spookily tinkling the vibes behind him, before other players take over around the 20-minute mark, just before there is a frustrating dropout, from which we return in a completely different place, unable to know how much we might have missed. But sure enough, there is B. again when the music comes back, although over the course of the whole 64-minute recording, I was mainly aware of Moye and Bowie, not so much the other players. Just after 45 minutes comes up on the clock, there is B. again, instantly identifiable... I don't remember ever hearing a recording before of him sitting in with AEC, so this is a collector's item for sure, even if it is incomplete and of slightly dubious quality. These musicians are never going to produce anything entirely devoid of interest and I daresay that if I listened again with full attention, I would have a rather more fulfilling hour-and-change, but on first pass, much of it drifted past my ears without really grabbing me.
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Now, when the hell are el NEGOCITO Records going to answer my damn emails?! I am still waiting, but so far I can't exactly give them a ringing endorsement... sorry folks.
* Despite being of rather more recent vintage than the Wet Ink video, this one has almost four times as many hits on Youtube. Go figure.
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