2 New Hats

Max Nagl Ensemble
Quartier du Faisan
Hatology 621

Theo Jörgensmann
Fellowship
Hatology 616

The Hat labels have long cultivated an interest in reassessments of improvising traditions, sponsoring the radical interpretations of Joe McPhee, Franz Koglmann, and the Vienna Art Orchestra, among many others. Over the last ten years or so, Werner X. Uehlinger’s imprint has cultivated a number of more direct engagements with traditional source materials or, without beating too much around the bush, just plain jazz. Few could have predicted that folks like Lee Konitz or Marc Copland might one day appear on the Hat roster, and yet this is the case. It’s often quite fine jazz, too, and this direction makes the appearance of discs such as these two a little bit less startling.

Nagl is an interesting and somewhat enigmatic figure to me. Part of the crowded and provocative Viennese scene, he’s never gravitated fully towards either the Burkhard Stangl end of the music (though he has played on some interesting dates with Josef Novotny, among others who play electronics) or the arch constructions of Franz Koglmann. A fine alto player with a flair for arranging, he’s always had a healthy mischievous streak. This was certainly audible on the Big Four disc from a couple years back (where he paid tribute to Sidney Bechet and Muggsy Spanier) and it’s quite pronounced on this large ensemble recording from a residence at Vienna’s Porgy & Bess venue. Nagl sticks to his sole horn here (though he ventures out on melodica on “Patient”) and is joined by Clemens Salesny (alto and bass clarinet), Franz Hautzinger (quartertone trumpet), Lorenz Raab (trumpet), Martin Ptak (trombone), Clemens Wenger (piano), Novotny (electronics and piano), Achim Tang (bass), Lukas Knofler (drums), and Luis Ribeiro (percussion). It’s light-hearted stuff, not so much revisionism as reappropriation. There are echoes of Braxton’s early Creative Music Orchestra disc and very strong Breuker allusions throughout (never a bad thing). Though the nine pieces are all written by Nagl, the ensemble charges through with a sensibility similar to Herr Schlippenbach’s hardcore Monk band (especially on the poly-idiomatic “Bycykell,” where Wenger does his best Schlipp to Mengelberg impression). Occasionally there are moments when, in the midst of some abstracted reference to Saint-Saens or somebody, Novotny creates some unpredictable (and frequently ominous) backgrounds. But this disc is mostly a spirited romp. Consult the juiced-up “Bat Chain” (a reference to the Captain?), with quirky organ and sinewy funk and slowly morphing horn sass, or the similarly raucous “Luis.” The tone poem “Patient” features a splattery Hautzinger solo, which contrasts excellently with the polish of the arrangement (the piece picks up and morphs into a spasmodic Kollektief-like reel). In other words, while the basic materials may be familiar ones, the energy of the ensemble and its soloists keep things enjoyably unsettled.

Dating back to 1998, Theo Jörgensmann’s Fellowship assembles a supple sextet of players (the leader on clarinet, Charlie Mariano on alto, Petras Vysniauskas on soprano, Karl Berger on vibraphone and piano, Kent Carter on bass, and Klaus Kügel on drums) to play three lengthy pieces. Should be hot, should be spicy, but I found the proceedings actually a bit bland. On Berger’s “Nameless Child,” for example, there is a real ECM-ish quality to the playing – not just in the somewhat boomy production but in the preponderance of pastoralisms and that soft piano-and-horns bustle that recalls (inevitably) some of Jarrett’s mid-70s groups. About eight minutes in the piece starts to gallop a bit (and Kügel does his best throughout to shake things up and Vysniauskas generates a fair deal of heat too) but there’s too little of this kind of brio. Mariano is the most interesting player on this tune by far, as his angular quirks keep Carter and Kügel on their toes and prevent the blow from becoming too conventional. What’s most problematic to my ears is Berger’s playing, which is at times too ponderous and at times to ethereal. Jörgensmann’s “Nightmare” is somewhat more interesting structurally; despite this band’s gifts for propulsion, I find their playing to be more successful on abstracted pieces such as these (closer to Jörgensmann’s explorations on To Ornette: Hybrid Identity). Perhaps significantly, Berger’s vibes sound miles better than his piano. The leader’s tasty solo perfectly exemplifies the idiomatic combination he always strives for: chamber cool and post-Bop heat. And there are even more craggy shards of bop flying about on Carter’s rumbling “It Will Come” (again Mariano takes honors with some out, abstracted blues fragments), with a fine and unexpectedly atmospheric ending (catalyzed by Carter’s fine arco). So yes, there are some good blowing moments, some good group sections, and some decent writing. It’s fairly nice small group jazz but nothing to lower your jaw overmuch.