Afterwards: Ingrid Laubrock, Anthony Braxton, Taylor Ho Bynum
Ethan Iverson, celebre pianista del trio Bad Plus (almeno fino alla fine di quest'anno, poi il nostro cederà il posto a Orrin Evans), gestisce da molti anni anche un blog, Do The M@th, naturalmente a tema musicale, spesso ricco di analisi, ricordi, frammenti di esperienze dirette. E' la volta del Festival di Moers, in Germania, dove pochi giorni fa si è esibito il gruppo di Anthony Braxton, fresco di compleanno,e d il concerto del sassofonista diventa spunto per alcune interessanti riflessioni. Ecco l'incipt tradotto:
La scorsa notte a Moers, l'Anthony Braxton ZIM Sextet è diventato un settetto con l'aggiunta della stellare sassofonista Ingrid Laubrock. Amo da tempo il suono della Laubrock, una sorta di respiro Ben Websteriano unito al suo ethos modernista. Il resto della band include Taylor Ho Bynum (ottone e conduttore), Shelley Burgon e Jacqueline Kerrod (entrambi su arpa), Tomeka Reid (violoncello) e Dan Peck (tuba).
E la continuazione in inglese, ricordando agli interessati che il concerto di Moers è già disponibile sulla piattaforma Dimeadozen (http://www.dimeadozen.org/ ):
In a way a typical Braxton configuration: Outrageous for anyone else, of course, but typical of Braxton. Most of the musicians played most of the time for 55 minutes, but the textures were transparent and engaging. The gently chiming atonal harps were wonderful, it felt almost as if we were lost in an old film score. A lyrical duet of Braxton and Laubrock accompanied by Peck’s burbs and burbles was almost a romantic moment. Bynum led the group in a few thorny ensembles and delivered scorching cornet and trombone.
At one point I felt some sadness, similar to the sadness I feel when seeing George Cables or Harold Mabern play. Whatever this is: Anthony Braxton: AACM: Black Experimental Music: the precise meeting between John Cage and John Coltrane: the fire of the late 1960s…Whatever this is, the clock is ticking and when it’s gone we will miss it.
Braxton played some bass saxophone last night. Braxton fucking invented the bass saxophone. Hearing Braxton play bass saxophone was like hearing Jo Jones play a high-hat.
Truthfully, as I get older, I’ve had to realize that experimental music is not my true love. Whether it’s Cage, Braxton, or other geniuses from that moment where it all went to the furthest dimension, I know that part of me rebels at the need to break that many rules. (I might have been scarred for life by a set of Braxton playing standards on piano in the early ’90s.) Still, it’s important that this dedication to experimentation existed — one hopes for but does not expect experimentalists the caliber of Cage and Braxton to ever come again — and when the concert concluded I leapt to my feet along with the rest of the packed crowd.
There is also simply this: If someone reaches age 72 dancing to their own drum, there is profound gravitas to their bearing. I was reasonably close to Braxton twice yesterday, once at the canteen, once in the dressing room, and both times the impact was visceral. Waves of energy radiated off the old master.