Vision Festival 2009: Day 6
Planet Dream / Fred Anderson Trio / Michelle Rosewoman and Quintessence / Whit Dickey/Eri Yamamoto/Daniel Carter / Peter Brotzmann's Full Blast Trio
14th Annual Vision Festival
Abrons Arts Center
New York City
June 14, 2009
- Planet Dream
- Fred Anderson Trio
- Michelle Rosewoman and Quintessence
- Whit Dickey/Eri Yamamoto/Daniel Carter
- Peter Brotzmann's Full Blast Trio
Starting off the penultimate evening of the 14th Vision Festival on a high note was the triumvirate of trombonist Steve Swell (pictured on left), alto saxophonist Rob Brown and cellist Daniel Levin, combining under the moniker of Planet Dream. Though their new release Planet Dream (Clean Feed, 2009) is under Swell's name, live they appeared a complete collective playing spontaneous improvisations. If the instrumentation provoked thoughts of chamber jazz, then it didn't take long for the execution to suggest otherwise in the three pieces of their 40-minute set.
Although there was a relaxed conversational feel to the opening piece, with the twin horns exchanging repartee over Levin's droning strings, once Levin lay out they worked themselves to a peak of garrulousness. Only on his bowed return did they become more contemplative and tentative at, eventually stopping to leave the cellist alone, bow undulating across the strings. Throughout the set Levin demonstrated a breath-taking command of his axe, moving from fluent almost classically inflected arco to ugly scrapes and scratches, even at one point rapidly tapping the end of his bow on the bridge of his cello evoking a pneumatic drill.
Eventually Swell rejoined, first emptying moisture out as he blew and incorporating these breath sounds into his flow. Swell married rumbustuous expression with fine attention to detail such that every note was invested with a particular weight or shading. Indeed the same was no less true of his confreres, evidenced by Levin's delicate arco work matching Swell's muted whisper in a wide-ranging duet. Later a lovely passage ensued where wavering falsetto cries, squeaks and whistles became so intermingled that it was impossible to pin down the source, making a fitting ending to the opening number.
Though the second piece started off slow and spacey it didn't stay that way and featured a Brown tour de force of upper register squeals with overblown whistles and a guttural edge in a knockout solo. One thing was readily apparent in this year's Festivalif Brown was in it then it was good. Not that Swell or Levin were in any way slouches. Supporting and leading roles blurred or switched at the slightest prompt in the three way dialogue of their excellent set.
Eighty-year old AACM elder statesman Fred Anderson(on right with William Parker) almost couldn't find his way onto the Vision stage due to the density of microphone stands and leads, but once a path had been cleared he stood stage front listening to long-time associates Hamid Drake on frame drum and William Parker on dousn' gouni embellishing an African-sounding groove . Anderson mentored Drake from his teenage years, taking him on his first trip to Europe back in 1978 when he was still Hank Drake, so there were some deep roots in play manifesting themselves in both the peerless anticipation and responsiveness exposed in two long spontaneously improvised free jazz expositions.
Anderson's first notes were tentative, but then he let a phrase fly, paused and followed it by exploring the middle range of his tenor saxophone, avoiding his more familiar gambits. Drake relaxed into a loping shuffle on frame drum, varying the tempo to push Anderson's wavering cries into sharper relief. At one point Parker took up a double reed horn to inject some strident skirling into the exotic mix, which saw Anderson first mimicking the astringent tone, then weaving his muscular tenor around it. Later Drake added a vocal chant and the three voices commingled in the selfless stream which characterized their set.
Anderson led off the second piece with a strong tenor soliloquy complete with rococo embellishments. At his conclusion Parker and Drake, now at their more familiar stations, launched into some of the spine tingling rhythmic alchemy for which they are so justly feted. Anderson was eventually drawn back in, his simpatico phrasing locking instantly onto Drake's time-keeping in further testament to their shared history.
Occasionally breaking up the flow with periodic excursions around his kit before leaping back in, Drake shaped the organically evolving groove in almost telepathic communion with Parker. Following one astonishing solo where the drummer danced rhythmic motifs around his kit, Parker metamorphosed his speeding motifs into a five note riff, provoking a ticking tempo from the drummer and bottom-end growls from Anderson. Unlike many of the other AACM reedmen, Anderson rarely overblows or makes prolonged forays towards the upper limits. Rather as here he mined the rich middle register seams, hewing out a chiseled phrase, then examining its implications at length. Embarking on a final course of long flowing runs with yelped asides and gruff blurts, Anderson brought things to an end after some fifty minutes with a series of long deliberate notes garnished with a closing trill. Cue standing ovation.