THE JAZZ COMPOSER'S ORCHESTRA

THE JAZZ COMPOSER'S ORCHESTRA

PREVIEW

April 1968. The March. The Flight. From a work in progress.

The Jazz Composer’s Orchestra — LP 1001 the selections are: Communications No.8; Communications No.9; Communications No.10; Preview; Communications No.ll, Part 1 & 2

This two-record set is put together by The Jazz Composer’s Orchestra Association, Inc., a non-profit organization with Michael Mantler as its Executive and Artistic director and awhole lot of other people involved in trying to free the creative artist from the stigma of a money grub culture by getting together, making music, selling it and putting the money back in the art . . . our more creative artists are given an outlet, and we, the listener, benefit immensely by absorbing mankinds newest creations . . .

Included with the two records, which come in a box, is a small pamphlet describing JCOA’s structure and goals and a not so small 20 odd page booklet containing information about the recordings (dates, musicians, soloists), charts of the compositions, a generous excerpt from Samuel Beckett’s book “How It Is” (e.g. “and if it is still possible at this late hour to conceive of other worlds ... as just as ours but less exquisitly organized”), sortie poetry by pianist Cecil Taylor (Cecil piles the words on like musical notes, only words are more obscure — where a rising of the spirit can be felt from inside the piano, the movement of my spirit oozes more slowly through the poetry, often stooping, backing up or retreating altogether), some nice prose poetry by Paul Haines, a Whole bunch of interesting photos, and a very dignified short essay by F. Marquand about how jazz has been fucked over in these here states.

All compositions composed and conducted by Michael Mantler.

Communications No.9 (Time 8:08) Recorded May 8, 1968 Soloist: Larry Coryell Orchestra: A1 Gibbons, Steve Marcus, soprano saxes; Frank Wess, Bob Donovan, alto saxes; Lew Tabackin, George Barrow, tenor saxes; Charles Davis, baritone sax; Lloyd Michels, Shephen Furtado, fluegelhorns; Bob Northern, Julius Watkins, french horns; Jimmy Knepper, trombone; Jac Jeffers, bass trombone; Howard Johnson, tuba; Carla Bley, piano; Kent Carter, Ron Carter, Richard Davis, Charlie Hayden,' Reggie Workman, basses; Andrew Cyrille, drums.

The piano plays against the wind, no the wind is really approaching electricity, a low moan culminating in a pure thrust. Coryell’s solo has no momentum, so be it, “about the weaving of clusters — the natural electric orchestra. The amplifier” — Michael Mantler. This is mostly feedback, the amplifier playing itself, the orchestra inconsequential yet necessary, like a dull memory. New ideas of time can be found here, unspeakable of course. A brief interlude by the basses that sounds like something trying to claw its way out of the primeval swamp, then back to guitar and orchestra. Coryell has proved once again that he is the most versatile, most relevant guitarist on the scene. Any scene.

Communications No. 10 (Time 13:26) Recorded May 8, 1968 Soloist:'Roswell Rudd, Trombone with bass introduction played by Steve Swallow. Orchestra: same personnel as “Communications No. 9”.

The marrow of Ros’ trombone is bittersweet. The trombone is a pretty dull instrument especially in the contest of mainstream post-bop jazz, up to and including J.J. Johnson, Curtis Fuller, et. al. The range of the trombone is limited and when placed within the constrictions of jazz chord changes, forget it. But in the new music there are at least two trombone players who are changing all this, exploring the possibilities uncompromisingly, intelligently, emotionally. These two are Grachan Moncur III, who everyone should hear, and Roswell Rudd (a lot of trombone players have weird names - I wonder why?)

COMMUNICATION #9

January-August 1967. About the weaving of clusters. The natural electric orchestra. The amplifier.

There is a point ' in this communication where I believe the essence of. Ros’ conception is distilled - a suspension of time, the orchestra lays out and we are given a series of slow, sweet, human animal crys from his instrument. The slow, sweet dissection of a moan, from the pit of the stomach and the back of the head. One of the purest sounds on record.

The orchestra here is more sympathetic to the soloist than in Coryell’s case and some instances there is even dislogue between the trombone and the compositions. Also at times the compositions sounds likeatranscription of one of Ros’s solos which makes this one of the most “successful” combination of orchestra and strong solo personality on the whole set. The entire piece has a languid unhurried beauty. No longer the dull clumsy curse of post-bop, the trombone has become, in Mantler’s words, “the exquisite low horn.”

Preview (Time 3:23)

Recorded May 8, 1968

Soloist: Pharoah Sanders, tenor sax; Orchestra: same personnel as

“Communications No. 9”.

“From a work in progress” -Mantler. My god, this is one of the most frenetice exorcisms I’ve ever heard starting, yes starting at a level of intensity that makes the MC5 sound tired and then builds from there. The orchestra is perfect and precise (chop, chop, chop up the scales) and Pharoah is pven more unbelievable than usual, ravaging the demons and those who would say no. Furthest out.

Communications No. 11 Part 1 (Time 15:10)

Communications No. 11 Part 2

(Time 17:47)

Recorded June 20 & 21,1968

Soloist: Cecil Taylor, piano;

Orchestra: A1 Gibbons, Steve

Marcus, soprano saxes; Bob Donovan, Jimmy Lyons, alto saxes; Charles Davis, baritone sax; Lloyd Michels, Stephen Furtade, flueqelhorns; Bob Northern, Julius Watkins, french horns; Jimmy Knepper, trombone; Jack Jeffers, bass trombone; Howard Johnson, tuba; Bob Cunningham, Charlie Hayden, Reggie Johnson, Alan Silva Reggie Workman, basses; Andrew Cyrille, drums.

Cecil Taylor, a name mentioned by a lot of people, a man whose music is listened to by only a few^

I’m not talking about hypocrisy but about fact that his recordings are sparse and pretty hard to get a hold of. This is definitely one of his best : recordings, even though the composition isn’t his.

Imagine someone playing the entire piano, both hands free association a plexus of sounds with complete abandon and strength, on and on, myriad combinations of notes and continuous How of spontaneys (though the source is ancient) sound structures, a cross-section of rythmic devices, changes in a split second. That’s just a hint of what the sound is when it enters your ear and pushes you out, out, OUT, OUT, in. Out,

In and sideways, a torrent of emotional fabric covers the spirit, the hard reaches out and touches the skin of the piano, ahhhhh.

The orchestra gets in the way, Cecil doesn’t need an orchestra, he is an orchestra - constantly orchestrating immediate human experience pushing you with sometimes gentle force into piano consciousness, causing these words

Cont. on Next Page

Cont. from Page 13

to tlow effortlessly. Chang! Chang! Chang! treblible treblible treblible. Chang teblible tre (Chang) blible blible ala ala ala ala Chang! swii Hills of pianistic crescendo decrescendo, crescen (boom chang blubba) dododo, driba driba Chang! The spirit rises ripples torrential catalyst for forward ever. Could use a whole lot of that.

1 didn’t say anything about Communications No.8 (Time J3:52), Recorded January 24, 1968 with Don Cherry, cornet and Gato Barbieri, tenor sax, simply because I’ve never really listened to Don Cherry before and do not wish to comment on the man’s music until I’ve heard more. Anyway, it should be clear by now that, for what it’s worth, I recommend this record wholeheartedly, It is a fantastic experience. Now the punchline. You probably won’t find this record in any Detroit record shop except maybe, Land of HiFi, but I doubt it. However, you can get it by sending $12 (very cheap for 1 hr. 1 1 min. 46 sec. of the crest of the wave) to: Jazz Composer’s Orchestra Association, Inc. 261 Broadway, New York, New York 10007 (allow three weeks for delivery). Buy it if you have money and you want this sort of thing to continue. . . .

Richard C. Walls