From Baltimore City Paper:
san Alcorn can die now. Not that she wants to, of course. But the Baltimore-based pedal steel guitarist and improviser’s new album, “Soledad,” fulfills an ambition she’s carried around since 1987, when she first heard the late Argentinian composer Astor Piazzolla play his tempestuous tango compositions in concert. Alcorn says the sinuous beauty and weltering passions of his music connected with her “in a way for which I’m not sure I have words.”
Cornelius Cardew: The Briefest Biography
Treatise-An Animated Analysis
John Tilbury on Treatise Part One
Eddie Prévost on Treatise and AMM
Anthony Coleman and Survivors Breakfast Explore Treatise
Pedro Costa and Clean Feed Records
The band — boasting a three horn front line, guitar, electric bass, drums, and percussion — casually gathered and began spinning out a set of music that was genuinely mesmerizing. It wasn’t just “interesting” but compelling and organic, original and somehow inevitable.
A lynchpin of European free jazz and improvisation, Bristol-born Parker played on such landmark recordings as the Spontaneous Music Ensemble’s Karyobin and Peter Brotzmann‘s Machine Gun, two 1968 albums which represent extreme ends of the genre: fluttering insect music and full-bore rammy. In addition to his collaborations with numerous figures in the worlds of jazz and improv, Parker has worked with cult pop artists such as Robert Wyatt, Scott Walker, David Sylvian and Spiritualized. He has also explored electronic music through his Electro-Acoustic Ensemble and collaborations with drum ‘n’ bass duo Spring Heel Jack.
From The New Yorker, Taylor Ho Bynum puts Coleman in perspective.
Ornette Coleman posited that the infinite improvisational possibilities of a melody could thrive outside of a predetermined structure, that musical ideas could flow and expand in the moment as naturally as breath or speech or thought. A simple idea that shook the world of twentieth-century music—a revolutionary idea that sounded like a folk song, lilting with the loving congeniality of a parent singing to a child.
From Burning Ambulance:
The music of Jason Eckardt (b. 1971) posits complexity and technical difficulty as core expressive and artistic values. That is, Eckardt’s music is (in part) a celebration of the physical and psychological acts of performance at levels that stretch the abilities of performers to execute the score and for audiences to follow them on the musical journey.
This perceptual difficulty is central as well—you are not expected to hear everything that is going on in one of Eckardt’s compositions, certainly not on first listening. Rather, it seems to me, that what we, the audience, are expected to hear, what we need to hear, is the emotional/expressive content of the musical gestures as they pass by. These gestures add up to a musical-expressive experience, whether we are able to “understand” them on a detailed level or not.
More than any other living jazz musician, the alto saxophonist and composer Steve Coleman seeks inspiration in unlikely places. So it wasn’t all that odd to find him here on a recent Saturday, scouting locations at Bartram’s Garden, the nation’s oldest botanical garden, near the southernmost bend of the Schuylkill. Mr. Coleman, one of the most rigorously conceptual thinkers in improvised music, was considering potential sites for a pair of major outdoor performances, on June 21, the summer solstice, and Sept. 23, the fall equinox. Those celestial dates, like the arboreal setting, represent an alignment of his interests. Some of them, anyway.