From New
Zealand: A New Destination For Improvised Music?
By Jay Collins
in All About Jazz
When one thinks of spots for progressive freely improvised music, New Zealand is hardly the first to spring to mind. But, believe it or not, the country has seen a recent upsurge and considerable growth in the scene, thanks to a small number of dedicated souls in the capital city of Wellington. This collective of independent artists, influenced by jazz, rock and experimental realms, have united in their quest for expression, as personified in the establishment of "The Space," an arts venue that opened in September 1999. Jeff Henderson, musician / manager / organizer of The Space, originally put the concept together as combination gallery, performance space and message clinic. With a lack of resources or record labels interested in documentation, The Space now has its own label, Space CDs
The tenor-guitar-percussion trio, The Slab, is the scene's energy/noisemakers, especially evidenced by this set of seven tracks from a live performance at The Space during two separate years of the Wellington International Jazz Festival. Perhaps most interesting is the fact that percussionist Simon O'Rorke is truly that, a percussionist. Rather than utilizing a conventional kit, O'Rorke plays upright which gives him the extra advantage of being a colorist, just like the two other improvisors. In other words, O'Rorke avoids drum patterns like the plague, matching the scorching energy of Daniel Beban's guitar or the ballsy verve of Anton Wuts' tenor sax. "The Light of Ancient Mistakes," the first cut, is a good example of this group's M.O., a fiery exploration that has all three going full-tilt. It's not all intensity, all the time, as "The Light" demonstrates, as well as the more melodically inclined "Infra Dawn," a showcase for Wuts' clean tenor over the bubbling drone of Beban's guitar. Beban's porcupine sounds are a thrill throughout, principally on "Airsphere" and "Resistance Is Character-Forming," the latter also featuring Beban's balloon work. Overall, their set focuses on skittish sound manipulation, noise and full-blown dynamism.
Also included in this overview is the sole "pressed CD," The Slab's
studio encounter, Squeakspeak. The disc as a whole is less clattery and more
introspective, with the studio setting allowing for the introduction of a myriad
of percussion sounds (especially for O'Rorke, who shines here). The disc offers
nine slices of mostly textural and very visual interactions, with the titles
being rather apropos. Case in point is "Squeakspeak" a spiky trek
and "Night Patrol," a dreary landscape filled with guttural tenor
and the scratchy guitar musings on "Scrape Scrap." Those that enjoy
their noise-centric sound will be pleased by "Conference with Silence,"
a stop-start jumpy piece, although darkness ensures on the spacious "Freeze-Frame."
This one is a thrill (and perhaps preferred over the previous) for its spacious,
ants marching, free improv journeys.
The Slab
Live at The Space
The Slab
Squeakspeak
Anton Wuts, ts; Daniel Beban, g; Simon O'Rorke, perc.
Reviewed by Robert lannapollo, Cadence Magazine (USA), April 2004.
The Slab is a free improv trio from Wellington NZ. These two releases represent their second and third records. At the time of the first (which I have not heard) the band consisted of percussionist O'Rorke and two other musicians who subsequently emigrated. But listening to these two discs it's clear that in Wuts and Beban, O'Rorke found two other players who are kindred spirits.
The two discs featured here each have their own character. Live At The Space is a more aggressive affair with shards of guitar noise, brittle saxophonics and clattering percussion to the fore. The best exemplar is the nearly 13 minute "Resistance Is Character Forming" with its unrelenting three way improvisation which builds to several peaks of remarkable tension.
But on Squeakspeak, The Slab seem to take their cues from the conversational
style of free improvisation that emerged from Britain in the late '6Os/early
'70s. O'Rorke's percussion reminds me a lot of the way John Stevens used to
operate when helming the Spontaneous Music Ensemble. The slightest scrape, the
brush of a drumhead, the smallest sound has great meaning in this style. Interference
Pattern" is the essence of this style. On this track, Wuts' tenor playing
is full of squeaks and pops. Beban barely makes a sound that's recognizable
as a guitar. And O'Rorke's percussion consists of minute whispering sounds from
various shakers It's a wonderfully subtle performance. But lest one think all
the aggression and power is on the first disc. the following track. "Ratchet"
consists of start/stop explosions guaranteed to clean out your ears.
Reviews by Noel Tachet
in Improjazz (France)
The Slab
Live at The Space
Anton Wuts tenor saxophone; Daniel Beban guitar; Simon O'Rorke precussion
This disc is a collection of improvised pieces performed over two concerts in 2000 and 2001. This is an elementary trio; the hard materials clatter, the air is shaken in gusts, the waves are mixed up. The drums search for a more raw sound, leaner, bonier, hoarser (rasping), the guitar (often mixed in the back ground) works the electricity: splintered, scrambled radios, the tenor (something Rollinsian?) passes from the more raucous to legato high pitches, via greedy language. A vocal entity seems to deploy itself, a music of clamours, an entire crowd within a trio. If the fondness of free contemporary music is in the recycling of anger, here then is one perfect model of exemplary intensity.
The Slab
Squeakspeak
Anton Wuts tenor saxophone; Daniel Beban guitar; Simon O'Rorke precussion
This second disc is clearly different to the first one by its dramatization.
We let go of the public place in order to enter an intimacy which takes the
place of silence. The tenor now takes the principle role and assures the continuity
of the music thanks to very quick sequences of short notes or vibrato. Anger
is almost absent (it returns only towards the end), it is a question of giving
to improvisations an equal value to the void; an openness to every sounds :
one hears therefore a certain stroll rich of hesitations, delays, time taken.
It is a very beautiful group work, the three musicians complimenting each other
to inhabit the sonorous spectrum. One could say of this recording that it attempts
to create sonorous networks disseminated as archipelagos as we feel them drifting
with a minimal presence: the successful temptation of ubiquity.
The Slab
The Slab
Reviewed by Steven A. Loewy, Cadence Magazine (USA), February 2000.
According to Simon O'Rorke's fascinating liners, "New Zealand has a well-deserved reputation for producing free noise music. But that is quite different from the music you will hear on this CD." I'll take Simon's word for New Zealand's free noise scene, and he is correct that the twelve crudely recorded improvisations on this disc can probably be categorized as free Jazz or simply as free improvisation. Regardless of the labels, there is some good music to be found throughout.
Brian Hutson, who, according to O'Rorke, moved to Australia in 1998, dominates the tracks, playing almost non-stop. He manages a big tone on bari, on which he is heard on ten of the twelve tracks. His sound on tenor is less explosive and somewhat less impressive. While his hard-hitting approach varies somewhat, he engages in only occasional extended technique. Sometimes he squawks or plays falsetto, but, primarily, he relentlessly goes at it. The interest comes with the intense interaction between the three musicians. O'Rorke is outstanding on percussion, his open style and varied approach comfortably at odds with Hutson. Interestingly, O'Rorke is a guitarist who took up percussion only when he could not locate a suitable performer. He has wedded himself well to his adopted instrument, with which he sounds comfortable. Matthew Mitchell is an acoustic and electric Jazz guitarist with a Derek Bailey influence who jabs and darts often in opposite directions to his cohorts. He listens well to Hutson and the two engage in some scintillating banter.
While the home recording gives the recording a certain rawness, it supplies
a realistic "you were there" feel. A certain sameness pervades, as
fairly load dynamics and medium fast tempos rarely change. Still, creativity
abounds, and this is a good introduction to a slice of the apparently small,
but innovative New Zealand scene.
The Slab
Live at the Space
Anton Wuts ts ; Daniel Beban gt ; Simon O'Rorke dr
Le disque est fait d'un montage de morceaux improvisés au cours de deux
concerts en 2000 et 2001. C'est un trio élémentaire ; les matières
dures s'entrechoquent, l'air est secoué en bourrasques, les ondes s'entremêlent.
La batterie recherche des sons crus, maigres, osseux, éraillés,
la guitare (mixée souvent en arrière) travaille l'électricité
: picotis, brouillages radios, le ténor (quelque chose de rollinsien
?) passe du plus rauque à un aigu legato accompagné de coups de
langue goulus. Une vocalité semble se déployer, une musique de
clameurs, toute une foule dans un trio. Si la problèmatique du free contemporain
est bien le recyclage de la colère, alors en voici un parfait exemple,
d'une exemplaire intensité.
The Slab
Squeakspeak
Ce second disque se différencie nettement du premier par sa dramatisation.
Nous quittons la place publique pour entrer dans une intimité qui fait
place au silence. Le ténor prend maintenant la place principale et assure
la continuité de la musique à l'aide des séquences très
rapides de notes courtes ou de vibratos. La colère est presque absente
(elle revient vers la fin), il est question d'improvisation à égalité
avec le vide ; d'ouverture à tous les sons ; on entend donc une certaine
flânerie, les hésitations, les retards, le temps pris. C'est un
très beau travail de groupe, les trois musiciens se complétent
pour occuper le spectre sonore. On pourrait dire de cet enregistrement qu'il
tente de créer des réseaux sonores disséminés en
archipels et de les faire vivre avec une présence minimale : la tentation
réussie de l'ubiquité.
Noel TACHET