Archive for December, 2011

December 31, 2011

Helen Frankenthaler

by Izalia Roncallo

There is an unforgettable image by Burt Glinn called Three Graces, which depicts Joan Mitchell, Grace Hartigan and Helen Frankenthaler seated in front of a painting. Frankenthaler, the last of the three still alive after the death of Hartigan in 2008, passed away December 27, 2011. Frankenthaler’s career lasted more than half a century and is divided mostly into two movements: Cubism and Abstract Expressionism. She is best known for her paintings, but she was also a sculptor and printmaker. From this, her importance to modern art is evident, in particular relating to formalist theories. So it is interesting to note how Glinn has depicted Frankenthaler and the two other women: as mere muses (“graces”), rather than artists in their own right.

In a 1965 interview, Henry Geldzahler, then the Curator for American Art at New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art, asked Frankenthaler, “How do you feel about being a woman painter?” She replied, “Obviously, first I am involved in painting not the who and how. I wonder if my pictures are ‘lyrical’ (that loaded word!) because I’m a woman. Looking at my paintings as if they were painted by a woman is superficial, a side issue, like looking at Klines and saying they are bohemian. The making of serious painting is difficult and complicated for all serious painters. One must be oneself, whatever.”

Clearly, the dominant view of the time was to see female artists as rare, especially in the male-dominated movement of Abstract Expressionism. But decades earlier, female artists were world famous; for example, Surrealists like Remedios Varo, Frida Kahlo and Lee Miller, to name a few. And yet Frankenthaler, a second-generation Abstract Expressionist, was mostly influenced by men. From Jackson Pollock she adapted the method of pouring paint directly onto the canvas as well as laying the canvas on the ground to work on and the use of large-scale canvases. She also trained under Hans Hofmann, like many of the other painters of abstraction of that time. Eventually, Frankenthaler herself influenced the Color Field movement and painters like Kenneth Noland and Morris Louis, with her soft-edged stain method of painting.

Frankenthaler’s The Bay (1963) is an excellent example of her use of blocks of colors, floating on the canvas. An amorphous shape with different layered tones of blue pops out from the canvas, flanked by patches of warm white at the top of the image and a smooth, grassy green flowing across the bottom. There’s also a darker band of almost grayish green forming a sort of border at the very bottom. Her works mostly convey a serene feeling of nature, while displaying a play with light and shadow and color, thoroughly unlike the art of her male counterparts, who created aggressive, menacing and dark canvases. This kind of dichotomy set her oeuvre apart when she arrived at her style and technique. It’s also what made her legacy influential, making her forever part of art history.

December 28, 2011

Sam Rivers Playlist

Sam Rivers died December 26 of pneumonia; he was 88. Here’s a Spotify playlist of some of his notable performances.

What you’ll hear:

“Beatrice” (from Fuschia Swing Song, Blue Note 1965)
“My Funny Valentine” (Miles Davis, from Miles in Tokyo, Columbia 1964)
“Catta” (Bobby Hutcherson, from Dialogue, Blue Note 1964)
“Paris Eyes” (Larry Young, from Into Somethin‘, Blue Note 1964)
“Mellifluous Cacophony” (from Contours, Blue Note 1965)
“Extras” (Tony Williams, from Spring, Blue Note 1965)
“Four Winds” (David Holland Quartet, from Conference of the Birds, ECM 1973)
“Ivory Black” (from Hues, Impulse 1975)
“Violet” (from Hues)
“Expectation” (from The Quest, Red Record 1976)
“Joycie Girl” (Don Pullen, from Capricorn Rising, Label 1976)
“Rainbows” (from Wildflowers: The New York Loft Jazz Sessions, Douglas 1976)
“Bursts” (from Crystals, Impulse 1974)
“Torch” (from Waves, Tomato 1978)
“Confluence (with Evan Parker)” (from Visions: Performances from the EMIT Series, Isospin Labs 2002)
“Earth Song” (Jason Moran, from Black Stars, Blue Note 2001)
“Riffin’” (from Culmination, RCA Victor 2000)
“Beatrice” (from Inspiration, RCA Victor 1999)

Click to listen!

December 23, 2011

Greg Ward

Greg Ward’s Phonic Juggernaut (Thirsty Ear)

by Phil Freeman

Listen to it on Spotify

Buy it from Amazon

Greg Ward is an up-and-coming alto saxophonist; this is his second album as a leader, though he’s played and recorded with a bunch of people over the last few years. The CD came out back in October, but I’ve been thinking about it, and periodically dipping into it, since getting it in the mail in about August. It doesn’t sound like any other jazz disc I’ve heard this year. Ward is a uniquely obsessive player, worrying away at phrases with a crying, humanist tone, and you might expect the rhythm section backing a musician like that to act with exaggerated sensitivity, swaying slowly around him as though not wanting to shock him or hurt his feelings. But instead, bassist Joe Sanders and drummer Damion Reid are one of the most forceful teams around. Reid in particular is a real force, hammering the beat home and giving the music an assertiveness reminiscent of players who worked to blur the line between jazz and rock, like Ronald Shannon Jackson and Al Foster. He’s more concerned with staying in jazz territory than either of those guys, but the aggressiveness he displays on tracks like “Velvet Lounge Shut-In” and the album’s title track is genuinely shocking at times. Sanders has a terrific tone, sort of operating in the middle of the bass’s range with a real fullness and vibrancy, but he doesn’t make a big show of himself, really; he’s aware that Ward’s in charge and Reid’s gonna try to seize as much territory for himself as possible, so he just positions himself between the two of them and maintains a balance that ultimately winds up doing as much to create the group’s identity as anything else.

Everything I’ve said above applies to six of Phonic Juggernaut‘s seven compositions. The last track on the album, “Sectionate City,” is totally different, heavily processed, with Ward’s saxophone running through pedals and the drums staticky and clattering in an almost drum ‘n’ bass manner, and the bass both bowed and altered to sound more like a harmonium. It’s a droning ballad with double-time yet still somehow almost ambient drums beneath, and when synths begin to surge in, filling the sound-field with whooshes and hums, it all starts to remind me of a cross between recent Radiohead and, say, Briggan Krauss‘s Descending to End, an album composed of layer upon layer of digitally altered saxophone.

Greg Ward is clearly a musician with focus and vision, and Phonic Juggernaut is a powerful statement that makes me want to hear more of his music, particularly with these compatriots, ASAP. One of the best jazz albums of 2011.

Click here to listen to two tracks on SoundCloud.

December 19, 2011

Burnt Sugar

All Ya Needs That Negrocity (AvantGroidd)

by Phil Freeman

Burnt Sugar is a New York-based improvising ensemble that blends funk, rock, jazz (swing to free), hip-hop, poetry and less easily defined sounds into a thick, swirling, smoky blend that’s like a one-stop history of the entire African-American musical continuum. They’re intellectual, soulful, raucous, simmering, and fiercely independent in just about every sense of that word. All Ya Needs That Negrocity is the seventh studio release by the group (assuming you don’t count the odds ‘n’ ends compilation Chopped & Screwed Vol. 2 and/or the “soundtrack” Burnt Sugar vs. the Dominatrix, each of which were released in slim CD cases, like hip-hop mixtapes). It follows their first and only album on a label not their own, 2009′s  Making Love to the Dark Ages, and yet it’s neither a statement of purpose nor a re-assertion of core values nor anything more than a dispatch from the group’s ongoing journey, which includes membership changes, increasing embrace of laptop loops, and an ever-broader musical scope.

(Before we really get started, it bears mentioning that Burnt Sugar are the cover subjects of the current issue of Burning Ambulance magazine, and you ought to pick up a copy—$10 for perfect-bound paperback, $5 for e-book, $3 for Kindle. Thank you in advance for your patronage.)

The album kicks off with two re-interpretations; calling them “covers” would disrespect the amount of mutation and transformation involved. “The Cold Sweat Variations” takes as its inspiration the James Brown track “Cold Sweat,” which according to its co-composer, Pee Wee Ellis, was itself derived in part from Miles Davis‘s “So What.” Thus it’s natural that this track is a stripped-down, entirely instrumental trio effort by trumpeter Lewis “Flip” Barnes, drummer Qasim Naqvi and pianist Myles Reilly. The rhythm is an intricate dance, the chords behind minimal and stark, the horn solo vocal and introspective even as it reaches one climax after another. It seems to serve almost as an overture, setting a meditative yet funky mood that’s uniquely Burnt Sugar while also offering notice that the listener is now in a zone where almost anything can happen.

Worth noting: group founder and mastermind Greg Tate, who conducts the group live and produces all the records, says of this track, “For the record, Flip kinda hates it—a lil’ too avant-garde even for him. But he knows the deal: the game of Con­duc­tion has never claimed to be demo­c­ratic. Band knows the deal. You don’t want to hear it on a record, don’t play it in the stu­dio.”

This shattering of boundaries continues on the album’s second track (and second re-interpretation), a version of Astor Piazzola‘s “Libertango (I’ve Seen That Face Before)” on which blaring horns and scraping, sizzling post-Hendrixian electric guitar battle a clattering drum kit and soulful vocals (not to mention a moody spoken-word interlude) for dominance. It’s worth noting that this track is likely a nod not so much to Piazzola as to Grace Jones, who recorded it on her Nightclubbing album in 1981, suffusing it with her unique blend of predatory lust and imperious scorn. Burnt Sugar’s version is much more unfettered, the reggae (not to mention the accordion) of Jones’s take scraped away in favor of a top-volume rock arrangement, plus Middle Eastern-inflected violin by Mazz Swift, who’s been a crucial element of the group’s sound for years.

Right around track five (which is only about a quarter of the way through the album; at 77 1/2 minutes, AYNTN stretches CD storage capacity nearly to its limit), punchy vocal numbers are abandoned in favor of sprawling instrumentals, beginning with “Claudine,” which is constructed from a GarageBand loop that sounds like something DJ Krush might have come up with. Atop that foundation, the horns—saxophonist Harald Keisedu and Barnes, again—spin out extravagant yet disciplined solos. “Bliques Haff Moor Funn” features pianist Vijay Iyer, an all-but full-time member of Burnt Sugar in its first half-decade but a more intermittent guest on later records (and gigs). The piece blends hip-hop’s rhythmic rigidity with free jazz’s squalling and willful fracturing of melodic convention, to dramatic effect. “Whut Rough Beast” and “Throne of Blood 33 1/3 (Encrypted Vernacular)” are similar in structure, but thoroughly different from each other in execution.

All Ya Needs That Negrocity concludes on an enigmatic yet final note, with the short instrumental “Blood Magic,” followed (after a moment of silence) by the unlisted “Start Thinking Like An African,” a dissonant looped rhythm track, barely over two minutes long, over which a voice declaims in an indeterminate accent—it’s almost like a sound-bite version of “Ghetto Youth,” the stark and brooding piece that’s the dark heart of Tricky‘s best album, 1996′s Pre-Millennium Tension, which pairs a similarly stark loop and a lecture delivered in a nearly incomprehensible Jamaican patois.

All Ya Needs That Negrocity is a terrific album, less sprawling than earlier efforts (like the double disc Black Sex Yall Liberation & Bloody Random Violets or the trilogy That Depends On What You Know) but every bit as compelling, in all the old ways and a few new ones. Hell, “Libertango” could almost be heard as a bid for radio airplay. Burnt Sugar are one of America’s best, most sui generis bands. They’ve never made a bad record, and their live shows are alchemical marvels. Get this album.

Listen to “The Cold Sweat Variations

Listen to “Libertango (I’ve Seen That Face Before)

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