Barnyard Records Triple CD Launch (feat. Rampersaud Shaw Neal Martin Krakowiak / Evan Parker/Wes Neal/Joe Sorbara / AIMToronto Orchestra)
918 Bathurst. Saturday, April 9, 2011.
I was glad to get a chance to return to the lovely space at 918 Bathurst St. And with an earlier start, the large hall felt brighter and airier with the day's last sunlight coming through the windows on the north wall. The event was a celebration of the release of three new albums from Barnyard Records, the adventurous local label dedicated to boundary-pushing improvised musics. As I'd learned in the past, they know how to create an occasion1 and there was a positive vibe in the air as an older/Annex-y crowd started filling up the rows of chairs.
Radio host/out music champion Ron Gaskin MC'ed the night, leading off with a round of applause for Jean Martin, who was not only playing in the night's first set, but had a hand in the production of all three albums being celebra ted on the evening. In line with those dual roles, the opening quintet (billed just as the list of names Rampersaud Shaw Neal Martin Krakowiak) had, in fact, started as a recording project, producing the intriguing Halcyon Science130410 album. As captured by Martin on the disc, the music registers as much as electroacoustic environment as "jazz", making excellent use of the space between the sounds.
Live, that didn't register quite as much. In fact, the set started off with a full-on attack of sound, with darting lines from Evan Shaw (alto saxophone) and Nicole Rampersaud (trumpet) while Tomasz Krakowiak added percussive touches with with a single large drumhead and a host of other implements (including, it appeared, an orange).
The first section gave the feeling of tension and conversations stuck at cross-purposes before finding more unity of purpose after a quiet interlude with a nice duet between Wes Neal's double bass and Krakowiak's rubbed cymbal, with droney horns behind.
A second piece worked on similar principles, and again, I found the part where they were cooking less interesting than the quieter, spacious part — perhaps because this was an environment where the less-cramped passages sounded really great. An interesting set, but not quiet as impactful as they managed on the album, which I wholeheartedly recommend you pick up.
Listen to an excerpt from this set here.
As Barnyard has done in the past, the night's special guest was an esteemed Parker — although this time out, it was British saxophonist Evan Parker. I didn't know his work coming into this show, though looking over some of the musicians he's worked with (a rather lengthy list including such luminaries as Peter Brötzmann, Anthony Braxton, Cecil Taylor and John Zorn) gave the impression that this might be a noisy, free-squawking avant sort of set. But seeing him take the stage, the first term that came to mind would be "august". In a black shirt and slacks, slightly stout and a grey beard, Parker had a calm but forceful presence.
He was here to celebrate the release of At Somewhere There, a trio album credited to Evan Parker / Wes Neal / Joe Sorbara recorded on Parker's last visit to the city. Although there was no doubt that Parker was the star attraction, in his introduction Ron Gaskin reminded the crowd that this was a meeting of equals, and indeed, Neal (bass) and Sorbara (drums) weren't just providing rhythms for Parker to solo over — there was a lot of give and take here.
As the set began, Neal provided a rolling bass line to propel things along, but after that sat back for an interlude with Parker improvising to Sorbara's bowed cymbals. Meanwhile, a baby in the crowd was occasionally improvising along, and that fit in, too. Contrary to what I might have guessed, Parker's playing was soulful and meaty. Contained and linear, too — not making radical leaps, but moving as fast as a fascinating conversation.
The first piece, which self-organized into about three crests, went about twenty-two minutes. The second led off with Neal's lyrical bowing swooping against Parker's lines, while Sorbara added bells and shakers before building up into a more chunky rhythm. At the piece's fulcrum, Neal and Sorbara dropped out, and Parker played unaccompanied for about a minute and I felt a big welling-up of joy. This is why one goes to shows — this is why music is important. That was followed by Sorbara and Neal in a duet to respond, as Parker closed his eyes, and nodded his head back and forth a bit, grooving to it before coming back in.
I didn't know Parker at all coming in. I basically came to this show based on Barnyard's track record, but this was an excellent, emotionally-satisfying set, and made me truly glad I had come out for this.
Listen to an excerpt from this set here.
There was an unusual sort of shuffle between sets, when members of the audience started grabbing their chairs and heading up to the stage clutching stands and instruments. Eventually, they would settle into the form of the AIMToronto Orchestra, so thick on stage that I couldn't quite get an exact count — fourteen or fifteen deep, I think. Originally formed from the ranks of the local improvised music community in 2007 to perform a set with Anthony Braxton, the band has continued on to serve as a canvas for some of the more large-scale compositions of its members.
Conducted by Kyle Brenders, the band was playing music in the same vein as their Year of the Boar album. Lush and prickly in equal measures, the first piece progressed with a percussive lurch and the distinctive wordless vocals of Christine Duncan (founder of the Element Choir). The title, given at the end, was "Love", and that fit the befuddled, slightly daffy momentum of the piece.
That shorter aperitif was followed by the more expansive "Gander", another new Brenders composition. It was written for this occasion to be played with Evan Parker, who had heard it for the first time in the afternoon's dress rehearsal and come up with a part, the rest of the group adjusting to his additions — this is, after all, an improvising orchestra. "Gander" had a noir-ish kind of drift and stretched out with an elegant restraint, like fog settling in on a sleeping city where unsavoury incidents unfolded in the backrooms.
That vibe was rather different than the next piece (by guitarist Ken Aldcroft), which began with a squall. Not quite an uncontrolled clamour, but certainly with more things going in more directions all at once before coming into focus with Brenders taking up his sax to play along as well.
The set ended with Justin Haynes' "Circles Over Labrador". Also written for this occasion, Evan Parker again joined the ensemble, and this gave Parker a chance for his most "out" playing of the night in a piece that once again ranged from mildly atonal to lush before pausing for a quiet banjo/group harmonica interlude before ending in pleasant squeal-our.
Listen to an excerpt from this set here.
All in all, an excellent night. Praise is due to Barnyard Records for providing an outlet for adventurous and uplifting music like this. This sort of music — and most of these musicians — can be found playing pretty often at Somewhere There or The Tranzac, constantly working out new ideas, and it's always worthwhile to go see them putting things together in those informal settings. But it's also nice to have bigger shows like this to serve as a summation and a bold statement to go with the recorded artifacts that will linger with us afterward.
1 Speaking of which, the fantastic set by the Element Choir and William Parker that I had seen at the last of these Barnyard flings I'd been to has now been issued by the label, appropriately titled At Christ Church Deer Park.
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