Three on the Sofa

Ingar Zach - Percussion Music

Sofa 516

There are, of course, a ton of ways you can go about a solo percussion recording. One basic decision that all but guarantees at least an underlying level of ongoing interest is to, somehow, generate a sustained sound-fabric, not necessarily the easiest thing to do when you’re talking percussion. Ingar Zach’s fine, extremely enjoyable disc, accomplishes this task largely via what seem to be small motored devices, possibly akin to the battery-powered, hand-held fans that Keith Rowe uses to strum a drone out of his guitar. Indeed, there are portions of “Percussion Music” that are not unlike bits of a solo Rowe performance in general sound. It ranges from the deep, vibrating rubs heard at the beginning, echoing off into the far reaches of the abandoned chocolate factory in which this was recorded, to the tinny clatter of thrown small pieces of metal caroming off the drumheads onto the floor, but the various drones, mechanically induced and otherwise, are the real stuff of the piece. These begin some eight minutes into the 44 minute work, after a beguiling series of call and response rubbings, and don’t let up thereafter, alternating pitch and form (later on becoming wonderfully rough and rattly, like a recalcitrant outboard motor), but always present as a surface off of which other ideas are bounced. Sometimes it’s softly ringing moans, other times it’s harsh, isolated bangs, a booming bass drum or a gentle music box. Crucially, there’s never a feeling of fragmentation. As with Rowe, there’s a sense of careful choices being made and, in this listener’s opinion, often the “right” ones, those that in retrospect sound somehow appropriate and necessary. A lovely, thoughtful recording.

Yumiko Tanaka/Ivar Grydeland - Continental Crust

Sofa 517

I found “Continental Crust” to be somewhat tougher going. A duo with Tanaka (Futozao Shamisen, Taisho-Goto—a small kind of keyed zither as near as I can tell--, Voice) and Grydeland (acoustic guitar), it occasionally (inevitably?) recalls some of Derek Bailey’s collaborations with Asian string players. Grydeland, whose work I had been only minimally familiar with before this, steps into Bailey territory a bit too frequently for my money; unsurprisingly, the best moments here occur when he locates himself elsewhere. Though both wield their respective axes in an attractive and very capable manner, there’s more call and response and less considered “note painting” than I would have liked to hear on tracks like the opener, “Downgoing Slab”. The second piece, “Semi Rigid Lower Mantle”, fares better, one of the two managing to coax low sine-like tones from somewhere (either incredibly precise bowing or, as I suspect, feedback manipulation) and the knotty drone that results works very well for several minutes. They attain a peak in the fourth of five tracks, “Eurasian Plate”, by incorporating a somewhat fiercer attack, the plucks becoming more brutal and assured while also sliding into some surprising and lovely lyricism toward the middle of the piece as well as a little quasi-counterpoint near its conclusion, behind which one can make out, faintly, street sounds from outside the recording location. Very nice. Tanaka’s voice on the final cut makes for an effective change of pace and here her playing also leans toward the more traditional which works well in this context, with Grydeland once more managing to wring some odd drones from his purportedly acoustic guitar. There’s a little bonus track that’s a tad cutesy and probably should have been left off. “Continental Crust” is a decent recording; I just have the nagging feeling that the two musicians are capable of much more.

Toot (Phil Minton/Axel Dorner/Thomas Lehn) - One

Sofa 518

A good recording if an unsurprising one, given the components. Mixing together the tendency toward wild-man antics of Minton and Lehn, you know basically what to expect, and if you add in Dorner as a kind of leavening agent, you have the recipe for a hearty improv stew. The four selections (titled, btw, “Ar?”, “El?”, “Ah?” and “Ma?”) from three sessions in 2003 deliver the goods as specified. The first, lasting for more than half the disc’s length, begins with a group hiss and languidly stretches out, allowing each member to banter freely, Minton contrasting his ker-blap-a-blooey’s and elegiac hums to Lehn’s bleeps and static. It’s to Dorner’s great credit that it’s often almost possible to be unaware of his presence. Not that he’s always playing quietly but that his contributions fit in so comfortably; he’s the glue keeping this contraption together. Minton’s one of the few free vocalists I can routinely abide and he’s absolutely fine here, always maintaining interest, never causing one’s teeth to hurt, even at his most rambunctious. It’s a solid, spacious piece full of fascinating incidents. The remaining three tracks work reasonably well also, especially “Ah?”, an eerie, quiet work contrasting Dorner’s high breath tones with deep, dark synth bellows and Minton’s subdued but nervous chittering. Admirers of any of these musicians won’t be disappointed.

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