Live Recordings

Les grandes répétitions by Cecil Taylor (1968) & poetry reading, Bologna (2007)

Championship

LES GRANDES RÉPÉTITIONS serial Ep: CECIL TAYLOR À PARIS

Contributor Names

Gérard Patris (director)

Created / Published

France.

Notes

- Information from: "Jazz on the Screen" by David Meeker. Used with permission. (Source)

- Made-for-Tv set programme or made-for-video/DVD release.

- Feature film (over 60 minutes).

- Cecil Taylor, Varèse, Stockhausen, Messiaen, Scherchen. (Songs)

- The Cecil Taylor Quartet performs and the leader talks of his musical conception:- Jimmy Lyons, alto sax; Cecil Taylor, piano; Ron Silva, acoustic double bass; Andrew Cyrille, drums. (Personnel on Camera)

Coda:

"Imagine the Sound" (1981)

Writing on PJ Harvey

I have just noticed that over the space of a few years, in the same month - February - I wrote some pieces on PJ Harvey. First on "Silence" - then various versions of "Oh, my lover" - today I added a piece on "The Garden."

PJ Harvey 'Silence' (White Chalk, Island Records, 2007) published Feb 27, 2016

Reader's Comment - John Rich (Boston, United states of america) on the Pharoah Sanders' "Harvest Time" piece on this site

"I'grand writing considering I appreciate your comments on Pharoah Sanders's recording of his melody Harvest Time. I've been googling about the piece due to my own attraction to this particular composition by PS and long term connectedness with his music in general. Your comments on this piece strike habitation for me because I concord 100%. It seems there's non a large segment of the music loving population that gets this piece the style you and I do. For myself, information technology is a perfect soundtrack that triggers bright images of motility in autumn at a fourth dimension most 50 years ago when I was evaluating my grade in life and what I wanted to practice adjacent."

In tardily September, John Rich from Boston, contacted me via electronic mail with some comments regarding a short piece I had written on the sublime Pharoah Sanders's limerick "Harvest Time" and published hither in 2016.

We communicated over some fourth dimension in that manner and afterward I asked whether he might be interested in sharing his reflections on this site, he wrote some more than, sharing his experiences of seeing Pharoah Sanders perform live; his thoughts on what makes the Boston cultural scene special and distinctive, while also offering a verse form that he had written, "DRIVE TRANE."

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Versions: Archie Shepp, "In a Sentimental Mood" (Alive in San Francisco, Impulse! 1966; On this Night, Impulse! 1965; Perfect Passions, West Wind, 1992) Live recordings

According to this summary, from the online American Music Forum – written in French – from 2013, Shepp keeps the best to final on this album recorded live in February, 1966 with his cover of Knuckles Ellington's "In a Sentimental Mood" –

"… after an introduction très complimentary (the adjective in English, in the original) with (Shepp's) tenor solo, Shepp breaks abruptly to expose the theme, offer i of the best interpretations of the standard I know.

Showing total respect to the spirit of Ellington, almost to an obsessive degree, which in a sense excuses the incandescent intro, Archie Shepp plays so personally – hot with a hint of acid, which characterises this memorable version."

Translations from the French, the writer's own

Not anybody agrees with the writer's enthusiasm, however. Meet hither these grudging, mocking responses to Live in San Francisco and Mama Too Tight from a jazz writer who repeatedly invokes a - mayhap apocryphal - disapproving philistine for a wife as a way to convey his ain scepticism well-nigh Shepp's playing: (In a Sentimental Mood) "gets a little raucous, and has to be turned down when – his wife – is in earshot," he writes.

Elsewhere he adds that when listening to Mama Too Tight his "better half asks if she should call out a plumber equally the banality is making noises." (It's odd the way Shepp provokes such reactions, beneath a relatively balmy-mannered operation with Chet Baker listeners engage in denunciation, with one stating that "Archie sounds like a dying squirrel with no time"). In a similar vein, afterward I proffered this version of "In a Sentimental Mood" to one of those getting to know you sections on a website – the question: which piece of music I'd similar played at my funeral – a wit added beneath, surely on hearing this, there'd be more dead bodies in the room.

Sidestepping the banter and repartee for a minute, though: for me this rendition of the Ellington standard by Archie Shepp and band is 1 of the top performances in 20th century music, whatever the genre. If music operates on the principle of tension and release, then there is no better example of this in practise than this piece of music.

Allmusic has described Shepp's interpretation as "reverential and eccentric" - the offset describing word fitting in with something the earlier French writer noted equally well, when writing that Shepp's performance showed "respect to the spirit of Ellington."

This might seem odd, specially since the intro is an evidently unhinged ("complimentary") swirl of noise for almost three minutes, equally the saxophonist toys with notions of stasis and momentum. Over and over, Shepp involves himself in the same motif, in a circular move as if furnishing currents of air. Yet, equally listeners nosotros know what is coming, and then this introduction offers u.s.a. a surface to project our expectations. Information technology's intriguing how this music engages with an credible contradiction: it is so individual, so Archie Shepp and all the same this distinctiveness has space for the states to projection our personal memories of a famous piece.

What had seemed like dissonance – and disagreeable dissonance at that – to some, such every bit the unconvinced blogger quoted in a higher place, offers space for us to experience something together.

This commodity, from the French Communist - now broadly considered Left, though this might get me in trouble referring to its politics in that way - newspaper, 50'Humanité from 1988, begins by mentioning that Shepp who had been invited to perform at the Vaulx Jazz festival that was marking the anniversary of the abolition of slavery. "L'Impériale agitation d'Archie Shepp" ….

Written by FARA C. it describes the context of three of Shepp'southward foundational albums at Impulse! - Fire Music (1965) Live in San Francisco (1966) and Mama Too Tight (1966) - Shepp trying first to get on the label, trying to go the attention of Bob Thiele (according to the writer Shepp repeatedly called Thiele over a flow of months, receiving neither whatever involvement or reply until John Coltrane intervened on his behalf: Thiele showed no interest in Shepp's original compositions, he could join the label simply through recordinge Coltrane's music, Four for Trane (1964) - an anthology, as the author writes, "in homage to Coltrane without Coltrane." Nigh probably information technology wasn't every bit transactional equally it sounds hither). The eventual albums of Shepp's music, FARA C. writes retain "a power (or force) and an extraordinary freshness."

"The version of "In a Sentimental Mood" (past Duke Ellington) carries a romanticism that is at once restrained every bit volcanic, enticing the listener with pure emotion. The blast was followed past Mama Too Tight - supported this fourth dimension by the substantial double bass of Charlie Haden. Four for Trane opened the doors for an unyielding artist, whose phonation remains more than ever an urgent necessity, an urgent commotion."

Translation from the French, author's ain.

The audience that night in San Francisco, who until that moment had been silent, offering shy adulation when they recognise the melody, when they hear it come up through. Their response is tranquility, in that location is an undeniable pleasure for them - for the states - six decades on. Both considering of the communion (we all know this music, we all know what'southward coming, it'southward merely a thing of time) and cocky-enlightened eroticism of the dynamic at play. While Peterson created a moment infused by a certain innocence - Shepp's stagey theatrics, supported by the rest of the group who underplay their parts, transforms that same transition into a kind of New Orleans bordello music, albeit an extremely slowed version thereof. How, though, might this music connect with the spirit of the Ellington original?

Ellington's slice operates inside a like mindset, gesturing towards and moving between a kind of eternal, billowing swoon, as if emphasising the space within the sound. And it is here in the gesturing between the refrain - and resolution - that nosotros are able to discover ourselves within information technology.

Something that is entirely absent, for instance, in the more formulaic, and even mathematical version Ellington recorded with Coltrane and released in 1962 (let solitary the many "true-blue"versions of the same piece recorded since).

This Ellington/Coltrane recording is cute, simply cocky-independent - private, even a flake chilly. In dissimilarity, Shepp'south performance is alert, emphasising the physical nature of the music, as part of shared experience between the musician and audience. He is performing for us, just as all the other earlier jazz musicians were, every bit if it were function of their Dna.

Self-witting, self-aware, drawn-out and sustained by a stuttering jiff that appears countless. Just Shepp, then, once more unmoors expectations – for the rest of the piece, he steps dorsum, playing in a higher place the melody, offering momentary flourishes equally punctuation.

The 2 other versions of "In a Sentimental Mood" - the outset recorded by Shepp in 1965, alongside bassist Henry Grimes, Bobby Hutcherson on vibraphone and Rashied Ali on drums inspires in me in a parallel reaction to the imagined married woman/blogger mentioned above. Despite or peradventure because of the music's sweet, it strikes me as empty. Allmusic critic Al Campbell refers to information technology equally a "passionate reading," only when contrasted to the live San Francisco version, I can't hear any depth of feeling in it. Though, this undeniably reflects a personal bias confronting this kind of smooth "atmospheric" music.

Much more dynamic, largely because of the fine performance by pianist Siegfried Kessler is this live recording of Shepp, accompanied by bassist Wilbur Little and Clifford Jarvis recorded in Warsaw in 1978. Thom Jurek writes that the Perfect Passions anthology, released nether the "notorious (read: pirate)" Westward Wind label means that the "recording is less than stellar, and there'south more than a proficient chance that Shepp never made a dime from (information technology)." Then shifting a little, he notes that the "operation is so stunning, it would exist worth purchasing and and so sending Shepp a bank check through his management."

To shut, a alive operation of "C Jam Dejection" recorded in Paris in 1969, alongside Ellington, the piece's composer, and his orchestra, which included Cootie Williams and Don Byas in the line-upwardly.

As listeners below the video have commented: the embrace at the stop between the generations at the end of the piece, is special in itself.

Related article: "Welcome" John Coltrane (Kulu Sé Mama, Impulse! 1967) "Search For A New Land" Lee Morgan (Bluish Note Records, 1966) plus Coltrane interviews, published November 22, 2018

A writer on the Sounds of the Universe site writes near Live in San Francisco : "This is a fantastic anthology of one of Archie Shepp's about solid early bands, comprised of the bang-up trombonist Rosewell Rudd, bassists Donald Garrett (also hear on Kulu Se Mama with Coltrane, but not much of anywhere else) and Lewis Worrel, and the explorative, while solidly swinging drummer, Beaver Harris. This is among the most listenable and traditionally inspired avant-garde jazz records you lot tin find."

'Hannibal' Marvin Peterson/Hannibal Lokumbe "In a Sentimental Mood" (Naima, Eastworld, 1978) plus more, an interview/live recordings

As whatsoever writer knows the reasons why you end up writing on one piece of music, or work of art, rather than another are often contradictory, or perverse. At issue is abundance, the eternal and relentless choice ....

What you lot end up writing on may not necessarily reflect your investment, or preference. Pieces that y'all dearest get overlooked; while music with enough"groundwork" (to brand the writing coherent; more than only enthusiastic gush) gets selected. Music that seems workable moves frontward, while pieces that brand your heart skip stay secret.

All this is an introduction to this writing on ii versions of the famous Ellington standard by Hannibal Lokumbe - recorded under his sometime moniker/name "Hannibal" Marvin Peterson in 1978 - with a alive recording past Archie Shepp from 1966 of the same limerick to follow.

Those opening moments of the Peterson piece are sublime. Music I wake up with in my mind kept over from a dream maybe, as if expressing some kind of logic, or organising principle. In many respects, Peterson's rendition is traditional: it sounds like any number of versions associated with jazz from the 1980s, or 1990s - and differs, moreover, from the music Lokumbe might be best known for, then or since, such every bit the raw momentum of "The Ascending of the Soul" from his 1974 debut, Children of the Fire:

Or "Africa" from Poem Song, recorded alive in London in 1981 :

However, there's something touching, affecting in Lokumbe's render to the source, to and then present it so conservatively,  stepping dorsum from what might accept been (and, of course this is pure speculation on my part) important to him and then in an intellectual - and political - sense, to show respect to past masters and the tradition he was performing within.

For it is within the apparently direct-forward homage that unexpected details are found (alongside a respect for structure); that moment, for instance, but before ane minute when bassist Cecil McBee repeats ii notes, and so sombre and so plain, before we hear Peterson's delicate trumpet. What makes this then beautiful is that rather than a bold argument of presence, Peterson's tone is tentative, allowing for fragility - as if he is property on to those notes, extending them every bit long as tin be; letting them breathe; allowing for an infinitesimal moment of silence earlier playing the next note. Such cocky-consciousness is not for affect, or showy in whatsoever mode, but to demonstrate care - while existence supremely chic, elegant and emotional at the aforementioned time.

Kenny Barron's performance as well is crucial to the music's bear upon: his muted theatrics providing an old world glamour  - a Black & White Hollywood patina - sustaining the music in a way that is lush, but non excessive. I particularly like his playing during the not-dramatic moments, where his understated support allows for the splintered trumpet to shine, before the equally subdued, if long, McBee solo (and so through this too).

Then, at six minutes those two notes render every bit does the now heightened, vivacious trumpet from Peterson. When I heard this for the showtime time, it made me so happy: I felt like a kid hearing the trumpet'southward return. Billy Hart's drums, also, come up into their ain now at this point.

Here's an interesting All Near Jazz entry on Marvin "Hannibal" Peterson  from 2006, even if brief, where Aaron Jones describes Peterson as "a free jazz thespian in the style of Don Cherry with the metallic tone of Freddie Hubbard" to state that he is "widely unknown even to the most die-hard jazz fans" (not sure how accurate the final role of the annotate is, but that's okay).

And a New Music USA interview from 2019 that includes extracts from his slice "Crucifixion Resurrection: Dainty Sounds a Traveling", where Lokumbe speaks near - and sings of - the familial roots of his art:

Speaking of the beginning five years of his life spent on his grandparents' farm on Texas: "My best friend was the sky, the ever-irresolute patterns, the sound of the river ….. All those sounds inform my music."

Coda:

Remembering Art Tatum (1909-1956)

Almost often when critics want to evoke something of Art Tatum's spectacular gift they focus on his speed and virtuosity. Or they offering anecdotes about how intimidating Tatum was in his fourth dimension: that night when Knuckles Ellington was spotted in the audience of a New York lodge and politely declined when he was asked to perform afterward him, for instance. (Evidently Fats Waller, one of Tatum's fundamental inspirations, said much the same, justifying his reticence by saying that "God - Tatum - was in the house.")

Giddy Gillespie in this documentary on Art Tatum (at 29'thirty) makes a faux-shocked sound when he is asked to remember the pianist, while Jaki Byard, provides a single word to convey his reaction to Tatum's skills in the aforementioned video, seven minutes on: "Stunned." He then details the technical aspects of Tatum's distinctive manner.

Or in Oscar Peterson'southward words :

"(Tatum) was an all-time genius of the instrument. I include Classical pianists when I say that, for a very definitive reason … I experience it's one thing to be able to play Classical music, simply for a man to come up with that kind of improvisational depth and conception and control that he had and the pianistic insights that he had - the harmonic and tonal sense and rhythm balance, that's unusual.."

From the Phineas Newborn/Art Tatum documentary, which y'all can watch here. Aslope the interviews with Oscar Peterson and Jaki Byard in that location are interviews with Jamil Nasser and Tiny Grimes.

Not everyone liked Tatum's showy playing manner, yet. Stanley Cowell, who was also born and grew up in Toledo, Ohio recalls that his mother couldn't abide what she felt to be the overkill of Tatum'south approach to functioning. She had to get out the room where Tatum was playing and become to the kitchen for a footling while to go some respite. "My mother had to get out the room (when Tatum was playing) because it (was) so much pianoforte," he shared in the documentary above. Asked what was wrong, she answered, "that man plays too much piano."

Even though Tatum was lauded past his peers, he struggled at times with the distracted audiences who talked through his performances in the US, and despite his reputation he appeared in few films. Then, when Tatum did feature on flick - see this performance of "Turquoise" in the 1947 film, Fabled Dorseys - sometimes dialogue was run over it. (This was not always the case, in the post-obit operation of "Fine art'southward Dejection" with the full band it's not interrupted).

There are many reasons to appreciate the music - and mythos - of Art Tatum. One matter that intrigues me, for instance, is the style that his performative excess lets emotion to come through. How his bamboozlement and display immune Tatum appear genuine; as if the scaffolding allowed Tatum to maintain a kind of privacy, without impeding communication with his audience.

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"The Hamlet of Electricity" - on Lou Reed's Berlin (showtime published in "All Yesterday's Parties" Meanjin on Rock 'north' Curlicue Issue, Vol. 15, No. 21, 2006)

BERLIN 1973: the city thick with women with fox-stole eyes, shattered glass and junkie Schöneberg faggots seeking out yet another fix. And, then, police find a chick's skeleton, shot through the temple, in the forest near Munich.

Call this bitching Katzenmusik where jacked-up 'sons of practiced fortune' slug it out on the streets, or finish upwardly in the Expressionless Section of some penitentiary. Makes me grin, this; I recall La Monte Young naming the Velvets 'cat gut music'.

City streets are sheeted past ice, aging underfoot as I walk it. Track one: some piano, the two of them in a café where the guitars play. And that devil-guy counting down; eins, zwei, drei, vier ... At the autopsy, the md said her brain was TV static, like rows of needles in a lab, from shooting herself up with pills.

'Poison is the essence of the performer,' co-ordinate to that former diameter, Nico, my Germanic Queen, ha. Track two: oh-oh-oh Lady Day, when she walked down the street she was like a kid staring at her feet. I open the door, velvet and tassled. Track three.

Hither is the edge zone. Eyes glazed, staring at me.

Hair shaved to the os, dyed ice-blond with crosses dyed in. I'thou no voyeur, just your average guy; average looking and average inside, listening.

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"The Earth's An Audition" - An essay on "Wastin' Time (No More)"'* & "Rollin With You" past Ol' Dirty Bastard, plus live ODB performances, freestyles, interviews

When you're in the center of something painful outside your control, your emotional experience is always understood in terms of time. Imagine, for example, that your child was killed, following their death, in their absence, you're jolted past realisations relating to milestones in a life un-lived. If you experience discrimination you're conscious that your life is passing you by. You lot're getting older, opportunities - and possibilities - diminishing. In that location is zilch y'all can practice to stop any of this, to wearisome it down.

Drug addiction, alcoholism, abusive relationships play out in a like fashion. As you're sucked into the picayune vortex, suffocated past the banal intensity, y'all're enlightened that you're "wasting time." But there'due south no obvious solution, or escape. Your days follow a routine, driven by whatever is needed to maintain the equilibrium; getting that set up, that drink, making certain that you, and your children, are safe, whatsoever it might exist.

Those looking in, from the outside are simply alert to the estrus - the chaotic explosions, and disharmonize and crises. Only those enmeshed in the hurt understand that such experiences contain their own temporal logic. Your life is made up of repeated actions, regular like the hands of a clock.

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