VISION FESTIVAL XIII: Shock and Awe

by Anthony Medici in Concert Reviews, Musician Reviews, Opinion Posts, Reviews, Uncategorized

I’m still somewhat agog over the recent Vision Festival XIII in New York City, produced by Arts for Art, Inc.   If one word could sum it up, it would be:  Intensity.  The music, the playing, the heat, the marathon hours.  They all contributed to feelings equal part rapture and exhaustion.  Being somewhat new to the free jazz scene, I did not know what to expect, but came away feeling deeply moved.  Driving away from the festival site on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, a lot of the music on the radio felt pallid and tired and derivative.  To borrow a phrase that was all the rage about five years ago, the festival produced a sense of shock and awe. 

I missed the first night of the festival (Tuesday, June 10, when my car decided to throw its water pump and leave me stranded on the side of I-95 in 100 degree heat halfway between DC and Baltimore several hours before the scheduled start of the festival.  With the help of a friendly dealer who provided a loan car, I was able to continue to the Big Apple to catch the Wednesday session, which honored Kidd Jordan for Lifetime Recognition.  Jordan was, either by design or inclination, involved in most of that night’s sets, featuring at one point or another, Hamiett Bluiett, Dave Burrell, Billy Bang, William Parker (looking more Monkish than Monk himself), Joel Futterman, Fred Anderson, and Hamid Drake.  Bang lived up to his name, providing a sizzling presence through nearly the entire festival (and he seemed to turn up everywhere).  Rather weird how the first piece in the set with Jordan, Parker, Bang and Drake morphed into a bluesy free jazz version of “Wade in the Water!”  The final set with Fred Anderson was stunning, with both tenors playing their all.  A nice surprise was Kalaparush McIntyre quietly sidling onto the wing of the stage and laying down some gnarly and intriguing lines.  

Jordan was on fire, an amazing performance in the sweltering, humid heat, both inside and outside the performance space (the Clemente Soto Velez Cultural Center).  I was thinking that being the honoree apparently meant working your butt off, sort of like having a birthday party and making the birthday guest make the cake.  Jordan’s sons were also there, in a “New Orleans Pays Tribute” session:  Marlon on piano; Kent on flute and piccolo; and Kitt on tenor (replacing a missing without explanation Donald Harrison).  Kitt and Kent in particular demonstrated tremendous technical facility, but rather surprisingly, played the “straightest” set of the festival, with selections from Wayne Shorter, Miles and the Blue Note bag.  I later asked Kitt why, considering his father was being honored by the free jazz community, he and his brothers played such a straight-ahead set, and he told me that was what they liked and that they had to play their own thing.  Funny how families work.  I will say they played it really well. 

The Thursday night set offered the Oliver Lake New Quintet Project, the James Spaulding Swing Expressions, Bluiett’s Bio-Electric, and Ensemble of Possibilities with Rob Brown.  Lake’s group consisted of somewhat unusual instrumentation:  Peck Allmond on trumpet (terrific trumpet playing), Jared Gold on organ (channeling Lonnie Smith), Jonathan Blake on drums, and Jahi Sundance on turntables.  This whole turntable is already looking dated.  Frankly, Sundance was more of a distraction, fumbling for records, playing with his headphones, etc, to little or no musical effect.  What’s the point? 

Spaulding played beautifully, with beautiful articulation and a deep sense of swing.  Is Spaulding the most under-rated veteran alto sax player out there?  I’ve dug him since he played with Lee Morgan, and his playing is still vital.  The ensemble featured Sabor on percussion, who leant the enterprise some lovely manic moments.  Gregory Porter, looking like a cross between Pavorotti and Dom Deluise, and somehow sporting a full beard, nylon balaclava and hat in the tropical heat, added some American Idol type vocal moments to the proceedings.  

Ensemble of Possibilities with Rob Brown, Whit Dickey (dr), Daniel Carter (rds, brilliant playing), Jason Kao Hwang (vi), Joe Morris (b), and Eri Yamamoto (p), got a relatively lukewarm reception, probably because their playing lacked the fireworks of the preceding acts, but for those who kept open ears, their playing was wonderfully intelligent and well-conceived.  It can’t always be about decibel level. 

Friday evening’s music was equally fantastic, starting with (if you discount the stultifying panel discussion on “musical factions,” which I will blog about later) the Ullman/ Swell 4 with Hilliard Green on base, and the near-legendary (or is it just plain legendary) Barry Altschul on drums.  Needless to say it was fantastic, with Ullman and Swell particularly laying waste to the musical landscape in driving, inventive performances. 

Sonny Simmons and Bobby Few made for a wonderful duet, and produced another of those odd moments during the festival, when Simmons announced that he was going to play a song from “that great singer who I learned a lot from” –Frank Sinatra!  Sonny and Bobby then proceed to play a deep blue version of “When I was 17,” with Sonny singing vocals, and Bobby laying down a sumptuous piano accompaniment.  I think Bobby had a little fun with the piece, but Sonny brought out the deep sense of nostalgia and longing inherent in the song.  Wondrous strange. 

Next up the Sabir Mateen/Henry Grimes Quartet, which included Rasul Siddik on trumpet and John Betsch on percussion.  Grimes is legendary, although I get the feeling that some of that interest is merely morbid, focusing on Grimes’ decades long absence from the music scene and brilliant, trail-blazing music in the 50s and 60s.  Grimes was an attentive member of the audience during the previous evenings, sitting quietly and taking it all in.  Grimes was fine on bass and violin, although nothing really knocked me out in terms of the overall group dynamic.  

Connie Crothers provided a solo set, which pleased the crowd.   It didn’t seem to me to transcend the usual free jazz piano idiom.  

The last set of Friday evening was Wadada Leo Smith Golden Quartet, with Vijay Iyer on piano, Don Moye on drums, and John Lindberg, who was tremendous on bass and demonstrated complete simpatico with Wadada.  It took a bit to see where Wadada was going with this set, but once it began to gel, and Wadada brought his musical forces into line, music making of an extraordinary caliber took place.  Brilliant conceived and performed, it was like listening to where Miles might have gone beyond his electric phase. 

Saturday continued the outstanding musicianship of the previous evenings.  The evening started with Patricia Nicholson’s Celestial Moon Beams Funk, which offered improve dance by a quartet of young dances, and then Patricia herself, with a sextet with Sabir Mateen, Rob Brown, Jason Kao Hwang, Todd Nicholson, and Gerald Cleaver (providing tremendous drumming throughout the festival).  These interdisciplinary efforts can sometimes be embarrassing and pretentious; not this time.  The dancers truly captured the music in their movements, while the music, composed by Patricia, as I was told by Sabir, was a terrific combination of free and funk.  The ensemble performed two pieces, but I could easily have listened to more.  In fact, I would hope that Patricia consider a DVD with more dance and more of her music.  

The Matthew Shipp Trio provided some good moments.  I especially liked Joe Morris on bass.  The Paul Dunmall / Henry Grimes/  Andrew Cyrille group captured a lot of the old magic.  Watching Dunmall playing free on an elementary bagpipe that looked like a goat’s guts is endlessly fascinating.  The George Lewis/ Joelle Leandre duo had so much grunting and vocalizing it put me in mind of a Sharapova-Seles tennis match.  Lewis hardly ever blew a full note from this trombone, preferring an assortment of squeaks, squeals, and (euphemism for breaking wind); Leandre, however, offers a compelling approach to the bass. 

A lot of the crowd departed after the Lewis/Leandre set, which is a shame, as the Italian Marraff/Braida/Borghini/Spera Quartet (couldn’t they decided on a name?) came in and hit a walk-off home run in the bottom of the ninth.  They played some of the best free jazz of the festival.  Marraffa channeled powerful tenor sax, and occasionally channeled Rahsaan Roland Kirk and George Braithe by playing tenor and alto at the same time, as well as a potent sopranino.  I hope these guys get more opportunities to play.  Next time, stick around.  

I couldn’t stay for Sunday’s performance, and particularly regret having missed William Parker’s Inside Songs Curtis Mayfield, so if you were there, drop us a note.  I traveled back to DC tired and happy.  I’m ready for VF 14!