

This piece was the biggest surprise of last year’s Vision festival. It boiled with excitement and raw power that spread throughout the space in waves as the music rose and fell. Even the quietest moments were suffused with energy, and at climaxes, the volume and multihued textures were overpowering.
The studio recording of Mitchell’s tribute to a profoundly important African-American woman author does not convey the same sense of unbridled vitality as its concert performance. That said, the studio environment also brings advantages; the consistently rewarding Firehouse 12 label has released a finely detailed reading of the work, one in which Mitchell’s fine orchestration is even more clearly evident than it was at the premier. From the opening upward flourish of the first movement, the recording is imbued with a sense of purpose that underlies every phrase of the beautiful scoring. Yet, there is a sense of transcendent stillness, most likely engendered by the relative serenity of the studio. These ruminative moments are juxtaposed with the busy bass, drums and percussion work of Josh Abrams, Marcus Evans and Avreeayl Ra respectively, their numerous and varied exchanges heard to full effect in the crisp recording.
As “Smell of Fear” moves from a similarly anticipatory calm to the menacing pulse that underpins it, the slightest microtonal motion becomes apparent as Mitchell’s flute melds effortlessly with David Boykins’ tenor and David Young’s trumpet. The clarity and presence of each instrumentalist is amazingly evident even on a track like “Adrenalin,” where Tomika Reed’s expert cello work graces the increasingly hectic mix.
The composition certainly invokes Mitchell’s associations with the AACM, the multimovement work clearly rooted in the multicultural conventions birthed by improvisational practices of the 1960s; however, Mitchell’s harmonies owe a large debt to contemporary classical music, and her effective blending of stylistic traits becomes more apparent upon repeated listening. Her playing is second to none, scaling heights of register and virtuosity and making the suite’s conclusion the powerful statement it is.
In concert, vocalist Mankwe Ndosi’s contributions provided the axis on which the piece turned, and she remains pivotal on disc. Even when her voice is buried during ensemble passages, it is an integral part of the textural, bespeaking and enhancing the many psychological states captured in Mitchell’s composition. Often though, that unmistakable voice rises, phoenix-like, to propel the music forward, her pitch range matched perfectly by the myriad vocal subtleties of which she is in command. Watch as her sobs, or is it nervous laughter, emerges from the multi-pulsed counterpoint of “Sequence Shadows,” to cite only one brilliant moment.
This is a finely detailed rendering of a wonderful piece of music, and the playing is first rate. I hope that the Xenogenesis Suite is only one of many such works to be penned by this talented composer and performer.
~ Marc Medwin
Posted by derek on May 29, 2008 10:22 AM.................................................. © 2003 - 2006 bagatellen ..................................................