Recording: Travis Laplante

Artist: Travis Laplante

Song: unknown^*

Recorded at Yonge-Dundas Square (Intersection Festival – Day 2), September 3, 2016.

Travis Laplante - unknown

A lovely day, warm in the sun with a cool breeze, the Intersection Festival once again filled Dundas Square with music of all kinds, offering a counterpoint to business at usual in the ad-basked concrete canyon. With Tad Michalak (of Burn Down the Capital/Feast in the East) again taking a leading role in curating the day, the music had nods to the festival's more chamber music-intensive past while upping the noise and weirdness reverberating off the surrounding walls. That had a sort of push-pull effect on the passers-by, sometimes drawing them in, sometimes causing evident confusion and moving along.

I'd previously seen Brooklyn-based Laplante perform a couple years back with his sax quartet Battle Trance, in a small room with no amplification. This solo set — in the middle of the vast open square, speakers blasting his sounds off the hard surfaces — was rather the opposite, but the intensity of the performance was the same. With his circular breathing diving a steady wave, his pieces ranged from Reich-ian repetition to more soulful plaints in a non-stop advance. With night closing in on the square, it felt like his sounds were pulling all the corners of the square in a little tighter.

^* Does anyone know the title to this one? Please leave a comment!

Recording: Battle Trance

Artist: Battle Trance

Song: Palace of Wind I

Recorded at Array Space (Music Gallery's "Departures" series), September 5, 2014.

Battle Trance - Palace of Wind I

Following a test run, The Music Gallery has formalized their off-site series (now christened "Departures") under the co-curatorship of Tad Michalak, employing some of the DIY verve be brings to his work with Burn Down the Capital/Feast In The East. Further instalments are being planned, but nothing's announced yet.

The night's headliners were a new quintet of tenor saxophones convened by Travis Laplante, pushing their instruments into mesmerizing territory. With no PA, the only other sound in the room was the patter of rain on the roof overhead. That was soon obliterated by the rising wall of circular breathing, very phase-y in the manner of Steve Reich. That slowly transformed into several other textures (from quiet drones to Ayler-ish spirit-honking), constantly morphing for the length of the fifty-minute set until the group finally stopped to breathe, holding — holding — the rapt silence of the room, with just the patter of rain on the roof overhead for more than a full minute before lowering their instruments to accept the crowd's applause.