David S. Ware String Ensemble - Threads

Thirsty Ear (THI 57137.2)

There are many fans of Bird who don't care at all for Charlie Parker's "With Strings." It seems to them a sell-out, lacking the inventiveness and earthiness of his small group recordings. It may also strike aficionados as less hip/rebellious than bebop is supposed to be. With that lush string sound, they point out, Charlie Parker is coming off as (gasp) suburban! I don't really agree with that assessment, myself. In the bigger pieces anyway, I like the interesting changes and the way Parker dances in his inimitable way over the shifting floor the string orchestra provides for him.

David S. Ware also has, or has had, the rep of an non-comforming firebrand, a flame-throwing tenor madman. But today, it's not considered at all uncool to want to work "with strings"--partly because guys like Mat Maneri (or Philip Wachsmann, Rhodri Davies, Ernst Reijseger, etc.) are not usually thought of as the least bit unhip these days. Anyhow, there isn't really any "status risk" for Ware associated with doing a gig with Maneri (viola), William Parker (bass), Daniel Bernard Roumain (violin), and Matthew Shipp (no piano, ironically, but digital synth), and Guillermo Brown (drums). They're definitely members of "the scene."

The threat that actually is present involves the schmaltziness of some of the material, but, fortunately, the disk as a whole doesn't (entirely) succumb. The opening "Ananda Rotation," where Shipp shares the writing credits, has a spacy feel to it, and - in spite of the the tinny Korg string sound - is appealing, partly because of the interesting production. Parker's bowed double-stops are up front, with the plaintive strings (and faux-strings) in the middle distance, and Brown and Ware joining in from afar, as if looking down at a blown-up but still smoking Iraqi city from a distant hill. It has some uneasy passages in the middle, but it mostly works well. "Sufic Passages" is a simple (not to say "dopey") little vamp tune with dull, unadventurous solos, and an awkward rock groove provided by Brown. "Weave I" is a nice, apparently free improv for Ware and Brown that's worth more than the three minutes it gets. The kernal for the title tune is very lovely, along the lines of "Pachelbel's Canon," but sadder maybe. Perhaps a third of its 13 minutes would make a hell of a download. But, like Pachelbel, it goes on way too long. I'm almost ready to stick a kebab skewer through my ears by the ten-minute mark. "Carousel of Lightness" has a kind of vertigo or drowsiness to it I like very much. The tune centers around a trio of descending synth chords that might have come from the soundtrack to David Lynch's "Twin Peaks." Meanwhile, Brown rumbles softly in the background, and Maneri plays a hell of a solo while seeming to hover unsteadily over the tub of sweet and aromatic bathwater left for him by his mates. This cut goes on too long also, but only for a couple of minutes. The disk closes, abruptly, with "Weave II," another short, but satisfying Ware/Brown free duet.

I don't think this disk will stand up over the years the way the Parker has, (or even as well as the somewhat similar Silva/Parker "Hero's Welcome" which I adore), but it's an enjoyable release with some undeniably beautiful moments. Ware, Parker and Shipp fans should certainly snap it up.