Martin Longley’s third nite at the Gent Jazz Festival.
Gent Jazz Festival 2014: Part Three
Bijloke
Gent, Belgium
Saturday dawned with a stretch of tranquillity. Steiger, a local piano trio offered a thoughtful ballad, opening with a bass solo from Kobe Boon, with Gilles Vandecaveye rippling over the keys, heading nowhere in particular, very slowly, until after around 10 minutes he developed a Bad Plussy drive, with staccato riff-plates, at odds with drummer Simon Raman. An amble from Garden Stage to Main Stage revealed 3/4 Peace, another trio, casting their bewitching mantle over their sparse-but-growing audience.
Placid pools of restraint were brushed by the bittersweet alto saxophone tone of Ben Sluijs, each of his phrases carefully pronounced. Constructive Criticism allowed an improvisatory climate, with Sluijs switching to flute, then returning to alto as the piece became busier. Another number opened with completely solo flute, full of restrained sensitivity. Alongside his cohorts Brice Soniano (bass) and Christian Mendoza (piano), Sluijs extended the afternoon’s introspective mood.
The rupture of this mood was imminent, as Mehliana took to the stage. This teaming of Brad Mehldau and Mark Guiliana marks a radical change of direction for the pianist, setting up a project that allows him to explore his armoury of electronic keyboards, colluding with a drummer who inhabits the intricate zone of would-be beat-machinery. Except that most of the percussive patterns are decidedly hands-on organic. Yes, Mehldau still has a piano, but it’s hooked up to processing gear, and his other keys are Fender Rhodes, Prophet and Moog, all arrayed to show off his expert multiple digit deployment.
The continuous dodging from keyboard to keyboard is something that’s not so obvious when listening to the Mehliana album. Watching Mehldau swap and switch in real time is quite stunning. Moog bass is fed to the audience as the ultimate drug-drip, unleashed in small doses, but absolutely dominating when it starts up, driving the sustained colouring of the Prophet, splintering through its swiftly layered constructions. The melodies are strong, the grooves hard. It helped to prime the ears for these tunes via repeat airings of the album. Guiliana mostly shapes propellant patterns on his kit, but frequently turns to electro-pads. Even though these pieces might be inspired by electronic dance music, in practice, the gig was remarkably indebted to direct techniques, observable through finger-action. The organic became the mechanoid, then reversed itself, and then the duo threw in a dubstep reading of My Favourite Things!
De Beren Gieren were the first band to completely embrace the Garden Stage’s three-set policy, moving gradually through the evening’s phases as they increased the activity levels, resuming each set as though their internal clocks had hardly ceased, continuing the improvisation as if it had been mulled over in their heads during the off-times. Another piano trio, spearheaded by Dutchman Fulco Ottervanger, flanked by bassist Lieven Van Pee and drummer Simon Segers, they began with sparse meditation, but by their third set, became impatient for direct action, culminating in a manic explosion of scattershot activity. Observing this progress was notably exciting given that is was interspersed by the headline sets on the main stage. It was a compulsive serial, the crowd anticipating the next episode of the ongoing tale.
The activity curve rose sharply, as the New York big band of Darcy James Argue took to the stage. Secret Society opened with one of the strongest (and oldest) works from its leader’s songbook, Transit, which motors along with a trouncing inevitability. A newer work, Brooklyn Babylon was imbued with a gypsy flavour, Sharel Cassity issuing a singing alto solo, then moving into a suite-like piece that grabbed hold of Steve Reichian elements, insistently making jabbing repeats, with a series of episodic sections.
It was flutes only for a spell, then a spread of muted trumpets, before the trombones entered. Melodica and bass joined together, followed by a trumpet solo, with doomy punctuations from the entire Secret Society. Clarinet and acoustic guitar solos were followed by the full weight, decorated by handclaps and horns. As the phases kept coming, Argue confirmed himself as having entered the portals of an ambitious compositional phase in his still-brief career.
Dave Holland’s Prism delivered the evening’s final slam, but their fusion involved no clumsy volume-hike or histrionic flash, but instead played with a controlled dynamism, gaining potency through implied inner power rather than ungainly, obvious muscle-flexing. The quartet is made up from an unlikely membership, bringing together avant champion Craig Taborn (piano) and Jay Leno band veteran Kevin Eubanks (guitar), with old Holland partner Eric Harland on the drums. Their opening number simply revolved around the sturdy escalation of a single-minded groove, for around 30 minutes, with Eubanks gradually fading in flecks of solo material: he isn’t a screamer, but instead opts to make subtle statements, even if his phrases are still articulate and involved.
This was followed by Holland’s A New Day and”Evolution, penned by Eubanks, with Taborn engaging in a refracted Fender Rhodes solo, before Holland dedicated “The Empty Chair” to fellow bassman, the just-departed Charlie Haden. Taborn’s Spirals featured some extreme repetition between the piano and drums, with one of this combo’s greatest assets being the ability to imbue sustained groove patterns with compulsive detailing. Eubanks got the chance to burn on The Watcher, coming the closest he wanted to conventional guitar heroics.
