Regardless of how grandiose or fantastical Anthony Braxton’s compositional goals, his periodic solo recitals remain sources of reliable solace - dispatches where that fervent and often gloriously impractical imagination boils down to the comforting kernel of a man and his horn(s). Braxton’s recorded work in the format commonly comes in the form of concert dates rather than studio sessions. Following the blueprint of his first double album release on Delmark, alto remains his principal implement in such settings.
This new Intakt set, recorded at the Willisau Jazz Festival in 2003, follows the prescribed mold in presenting eight pieces, all of relatively uniform duration. Colorful ink squiggles distinguish the graphic schema used to codify the compositions. The program opens with the air and force of a Brötzmann record, Braxton blowing shrill split tones and tonguing in lots of gravely vibrato on “No. 328c”. The amplitude of his articulation is striking, ballooning into the space and sounding exponentially larger than the capacity his horn would normally dictate. He explores permutations of “328a” and “d” later in the program, leavening coarse exhalations with surprisingly delicate curlicues of melody. The former piece contains a passage limited to little more than keypad clicks and circulating breath while the latter alights on simple Aylerian repetition.
Sandwiched between the succession of stark numerical compositions sits an eight-minute meditation on “All the Things You Are”. Braxton builds off the mothballed melody, alternating recognizable variations with flurried asides and huffing inhalations of air. The opening minutes of “No. 119m” consist of a comically labored wrestling match with his reed, malformed notes squeaking past his muffled speechifying like those of an orator holding court from the confines of a paper sack. “No. 106p” returns to gently rippling melodic territory with Braxton exploring a suitably serpentine line with a lightly aerated intonation. The pristine recording gives percussive presence to peripheral sounds of his instrument. Even the pursing of saliva-moistened lips is audible. The set winds up as it started with another nod to staccato Brötz-speak through the whinnying flutter tonguing of “No. 191j”.
As with Intakt’s solo Cecil Taylor release from a few years back, this set distills its subject’s art and intentions down to diamond sharp clarity. Braxton’s available solo sets now number into the double digits, but this one still succeeds in illuminating significant insights into the ever-evolving mind behind them.
~ Derek Taylor
Posted by derek on November 27, 2007 4:58 AM.................................................. © 2003 - 2006 bagatellen ..................................................