Belgrade Jazz Festival 2023

Dom Omladine / MTS Dvorana
Belgrade, Serbia
October 24-29, 2023

Following the financial turbulence of 2022's Belgrade Jazz Festival, this year's edition, the 39th, resounded with a sturdier sureness, getting back to a confident momentum. Its programme was as reliably impressive as ever, particularly in the quality of its international bookings. We could even suggest that perhaps the indigenous Serbian performer ratio was a touch lower than usual, maybe even requiring a boost next year.

2023's edition saw a return to the full four acts each evening, with two double bills, the first in Dom Omladine's downstairs concert hall at 7 p.m., the second up in its more informal Amerikana suite, from 10:30 p.m. until whenever the bands finished. Also, audience attendance was back up to a fuller state for '23, with most gigs being way more crowded than in 2022.

Tuesday, October 24

The opening night had a different structure, spotlighting the achievements of Belgrade's Stanković Music School jazz department, celebrating three decades of existence. The Stanković All-Stars operated from a pool of players who switched for each number, growing or shrinking for the needs of each tune, sextet then quartet, solo then large ensemble. Assembled from different generations, it included familiar faces such as Ivan Radivojevic (trumpet) and Rastko Obradovic (saxophones), who both led their own bands during previous festivals. There were also five pianists and three guitarists, besides the equally fulsome horn ranks. Plus three bassists and three drummers. The rosters kept morphing and the styles revolved, mostly mainline, but sometimes funky, and at others a touch more out-there. Early progress was adequate, but by the third third of the extended set a certain energy began to emanate, initiated by a pianist/guitarist sharing of the compositions. This climactic run topped off the set with a suitable accumulation of soloing and thematic prowess.

Afterwards, there was a surprise gig in the foyer, with veteran saxophonist Jovan Maljoković leading a small combo of trumpet, keyboards, electric bass and drums. The band played both before and after Maljoković took to the stage, tending towards a jazz funk sound, but when the tenor man was present, the style became a forceful post-bop solo- feast. Maljoković has just become the festival's chairman of the board, but here he was underlining his continuing robust strength as an octogenarian honker.

Wednesday, October 25

The second evening also had a high Serbian ratio, beginning with the Max Kotchetov Quartet. Actually, this saxophonist is Ukrainian, but he's been living in Serbia for well over a decade. The Italian trumpeter Fabrizio Bosso guested for this gig, the lineup completed by piano, bass and drums, with sticksman Miloš Grbatinić being noticeably rigid in style, seeming like a more basic rock player. Meanwhile, pianist Andreja Hristić had a tendency towards the overly lounge-lyrical side. The horns were the most captivating element of the band, but let down by inferior compositions. Kotchetov's solos had a communicative warmth, following his cooler soprano sheets. Bosso answered his leader's alto in kind, keeping the flame high.

The Serbian night continued upstairs in the Amerikana bar. The Jovan Milovanovic Quartet is led by its Belgrade-born guitarist and composer, featuring tenor saxophone, bass and drums. The orientation was very easy-going, with Milovanović adopting a smooth guitar tone, in the name of a somewhat limp jazz funk repertoire. It was tenor man Kristijan Mlacak who got a firm grip on the music, adding some bite.

The Miloš Čolović Trio closed out the night by providing its best set, with pianist Hristić and drummer Grbatinić both returning to play their second gigs of the evening, both of them performing markedly better than when beside Kotchetov. Belgrade bassist Colović oversaw a burst of post-midnight energy, changing mood, strategy and time signatures with a seamless regularity. His resonant strums drove "Losing Count," as Hristić unveiled his exploratory piano technique. Duke Ellington's "Solitude" had brushes and softness from Grbatinić, under the leader's distinctive bass solo miniature. Was this a piano trio or a bass trio? Equality reigned.

Prior to the lockdown period, the Serbian Showcase always used to feature several bands that shifted sideways into electronics, rock or free improvisation, operating on a more adventurous level. During the last few years, the Serbian scene has been represented by more mainline jazz stylists. Could this be a deliberate festival strategy in the selection process, or merely a happenstance during the last couple of years?

Thursday, October 26

The third evening began the international phase of the festival, with artists drawn from many quarters, and only a fleeting stroke of Serbian influence present on one of the next four nights. Instead, there was a remarkable parade of players from around Europe and the USA, often with bands made up from artists arriving from multiple lands. The Polish duo of Adam Pieronczyk (soprano saxophone) and Leszek Mozdzer (barefoot piano) opened Thursday evening armed with sheets of music, but still seemed open to spontaneous abstraction. Capering horn and scampering keys worked through compositions provided by both players, as they moved more towards fleet traipsing as the set gathered purpose. There was "Santa Maria," by Nana Vasconcelos, with Możdżer creating an organic prepared piano 'loop,' and Pierończyk racing as if skimming waves, or currents, or even clouds. They encored with "Enjoy The Silence" (a Depeche Mode song), a staggered march with a wry sense of humour.

Next came one of the festival's very best sets, from The Oded Tzur Quartet, debuting new pieces from the forthcoming My Prophet album, on ECM. This Israeli tenor saxophonist has been living in NYC for over a decade, and the current version of his band includes Nitai Hershkovits (piano), Petros Klampanis (bass) and Cyrano Almeida (drums). They made a more urgent opening than expected, as Tzur is the master of complete subtlety and understatement, but the new material remained sensitive at this swifter pace. Tzur holds a power in quietness, his sparse voicings containing micro-filigrees of ornamentation. Hershkovits made modal embellishments, with a solo rising out of the contemplative mists. "This music is written about love," Tzur says, never imagining that he'd be premiering it in these darkened times, and employing every emotional essence in his controlled tenor fragility.

Upstairs, in Amerikana, the late show double-bill accelerated activity rates. The Finnish electro-trumpeter Verneri Pohjola has recently released his Monkey Mind album on the Edition label, but his Belgrade set wasn't nearly as electronically slanted as the recorded work, coming across as a subtly fx-ed, fairly 'natural' semi-acoustic combo. Pohjola had cannily replaced the original keyboardist Kit Downes with the inspirational Estonian pianist Kirke Karja, but the rest of the quartet remains the same: Jasper Høiby (bass) and Olavi Louhivuori (drums). Karja is mostly seen leading her own varied line-ups, so it was intriguing to catch her under another bandmaster. This performance found her closer to the jazz source than ever heard before, which was strangely revolutionary, as she's generally more likely to slice up ribbons of free jazz, moderne iciness or staccato themes. Høiby was unusually quiet and undemonstrative, but he too was taking a break from bandleader mode. "Out Of Silence" began with trumpet loops, leading to "Party In The Attic," which was clearly what was afoot up in the Amerikana suite, even if it was manifested as a sophisticated hangout of moods and experimentation.

Next, we slid across to Belgium, although the saxophonist Manuel Hermia and trumpeter Jean-Paul Estiévenart surrounded themselves with players from Switzerland, Spain and Italy. Estiévenart is always outgoing, but his firecracker solos jolted through the room, alternating with the leader's bullish tenor statements. A stutter-shot trumpet solo climaxed again, as the horn multiphonics were emboldened by the added presence of trombonist Samuel Blaser. Hermia frequently found endgame forces via honking and squalling, sharply controlled as he slipped around the riffs and themes of each tune.

Friday, October 27

The best set of the entire festival opened up Friday night on the main concert stage, with Norwegian drummer Paal Nilssen-Love's Large Unit. Not quite as gargantuan as has lately been the case, this version returned to the core roster, without any Ethiopians or Brazilians. Scandinavia in the house, with a return to the more cacophonous controlled freedom of their early years, the music stemming directly from the jazz tradition, although many veteran post-boppers would fight tooth- and-claw to deny such a transgressive statement. Swing and bounce was present continually, but also scream, scuttle, scoot, skrong and copious guitar noise-distress, all lovingly marshalled by the lightning brain and sticks of the Unit leader.

They opened with a classic oldie, "Happy Slappy," Ketil Gutvik's mangled guitar prominently running riot, with various combinations ensuing, such as guitar and accordion, bass and alto saxophone, going sparse, then pouncing into sonic excess. There was trumpet and the Unit's second drummer, tenor saxophone and Nilssen-Love himself, cultivating a collective armageddon. Another golden oldie followed, with "Spring Summer" pairing acoustic basses, establishing a distinct change from the opening's rattling volume overloads. Slow investigations of tiny sounds, with drones and ghostly accordion, played by Kalle Moberg, who frequently provided a significant tonal frisson to the music. Combined thematic action eventually arrived, to close out with a dirge full-stop.

Nilssen-Love had refrained from being a Belgrade tourist during the daytime. Instead, he wrote a new piece in his hotel room, handily distributed amongst the band, presumably as a tight graphic score. If the audience hadn't been told this, we might have assumed that this premiere was a hyper-composed masterpiece. In actuality it was an imaginative interpretation with blurred inter-responsive creativity—kind of a masterpiece. It blasted strong, but it also fragmented into micro-detail. There was an intended vintage Japanese theme, but that wasn't so apparent in the end results, although there were end-blown shakuhachi-type flutes gathered at the beginning. After that, all was jettisoned for a manic brawl, again highlighted by Gutvik's rending guitar solos, cutting to a completely solo tuba spotlight, which was a rare occurrence indeed, for all of us Danny Kaye fans in the crowd. Basses in tandem followed, and the low zone was reaped heavily, until the trumpet pierced the reverb ceiling, forcing both reed players to insert fingers in their right ears. A staggering march developed, with circular breathing tuba, bringing in the entire Unit for the conclusion. With five minutes to go, they jumped back to Ethiopia for some encore dancing, and Nilssen-Love gushed "absolutely fuckin' amazin' playing here..!" He sure was correct.

This was set to be the festival's best night, as the following three bands were all very impressive as well. The Fabian Rucker 5 played next on the main stage, and did a marvellous job of following Large Unit, themselves playing on a frazzling level of contained excitement. These Austrians rapidly discovered their intensity, the leader issuing a ferocious alto saxophone solo, across a lightning post-bop base, littered with rock 'n' roll carnage. Such is the mottled blend of this 5. The soloing was extremely precise all around, but such precision didn't result in sterility. This crew holds onto their rugged power. Speedbop could be another style-rack in the record store. Rucker chose tenor for "23:50," a slower, moodier slink. On the live stage, the 5's music very much revolves around Rucker himself, with guitarist Christian Neuschmid toned down compared to his showing on the Hypocritical Mass album (BMC, 2019). When he did eventually rise up, it was for a pinched nasal fx rumination, gaining in heaviness as it progressed, goaded by the pounding piano of Philipp Nykrin. The 5 style is reminiscent of The Bad Plus, back in their cover-song days, tweaked here as grunge-bop.

Up in Amerikana, two more thrilling combos to go. Hugo Carvalhais, bassman from Portugal, had an ace in his band with the Lithuanian reedster Liudas Mockūnas, the sextet toying with microtonal elements, at times. The horn front line rejoiced (Fábio Almeida, alto saxophone, being the other blower). On sopranino saxophone, Mockūnas delivered an epic virtuoso solo, while the band swirled in their own amniotic fluid. Drummer Mário Costa favoured a hard snare snap, as the 'phones came together as twinned tenors. Mockūnas was present as a disruptive force, presumably deliberately, as there was a sense that the compositions shifted from smooth and restful towards being fraught and tense. The Lithuanian was a rogue outsider who regularly stalked offstage once his work was completed, only to return for another subversive action. With the band's coupled keyboards it was also easy to have thoughts of In A Silent Way, as charmed moods unwound. Then, it was Mockūnas's turn again, slicing in a violent soprano solo.

To polish off the late night in style we had Hayden Chisholm, a New Zealander dwelling in Belgrade. He's primarily an alto saxophonist but also uses a shruti box, as well as being a skilled throat-singer. Quite a palette! Additionally, he runs the BAM Club in the city (Balkan Academy of Music), which presents jazz and Balkan folk nights on an alternating basis. This evening's presentation was entitled Things Serbia Did To Me. His quartet was completed by three Belgrade players on trumpet, bass and drums. A waltzing ballad with light brushwork and soft horn dustings gave Chisholm chance to sing in his eerie manner, before Ivan Radivojević (him again) shot out a blazing trumpet solo, signalling detonation time for the drums, bass careening, with the leader deliberately playing soft alto to the side, for contrast's sake. Pedja Milutinovicpossessed a masterful tom-boom sound, while Chisholm's soft shuffle was reminiscent of the sound often heard on the Babylon Berlin soundtrack. The leader must surely be categorised as an experimental mainstreamer.

Saturday, October 28

The festival's penultimate evening began with trumpets in the downstairs theatre, firstly with the rising Spanish player Alba Careta Group, followed by established master Dave Douglas from the USA. Careta enjoys dividing her time, spending much of her set as a singer, backed by tenor saxophone, piano, bass and drums. She also likes to keep this division sharp. On some numbers she was totally into the horn themes, and on other songs she downed her trumpet for the duration. This actually had a positive effect, in terms of variety, with saxophonist Lucas Martínez having ample time to impress on the vocal selections. Maybe Martinez ends up being the dominant soloing voice, by the set's end, rich, serene and toffee-toned. Careta also sang in unison with bassist Giuseppe Campisi for further surprise, and then briefly, just with drummer Jospe Cordobés. The result was a delicately poised performance with unusual dynamics, not fiery or funky, but more elegant and refined.

Douglas is already impressed by Careta, previously aware of her playing. He brought out Gifts Trio, which has its roots in the touring line-up of his High Risk group. Rafiq Bhatia (guitar) and Ian Chang (drums) are much younger than their leader, and way more interested in electronic extensions, submerging the music in loops, layers and other lengthening processes. This sets Douglas apart, highlighting the acoustic essence of his trumpet, framing him out front. He'd also requested that the house lights be brighter, so that he could check out the crowd, and absorb their influence into his performance. It was virtually a full house, and the attendance at this festival had certainly risen sharply since a hesitant 2022. Douglas stalked the boards at stage-front, making full use of the expanse, invoking a bluesy lope that harked back to old school jazz, in the midst of a marsh-mist electro-terrain. He left his cohorts to play, as they generated a surging hover of sound, with a guitar solo that sounded e-bowed, but without that device in sight. Gifts Trio offered a playful exercise, a recreational combo, trawling the history of jazz in search of ways to gently skew it, updating through a laptop filter. At one point there was a near unrecognisable treatment of "Take The 'A' Train." Then there came a simple and severe bass figure, heralding a more abstracted phase, Douglas soloing freely, across the roiling lowness.

Straight afterwards, we were dropped deeply into another festival highlight, the burning performance by Chicago tenor and soprano saxophonist Isaiah Collier and The Chosen Few. His fire, fury, fast attack and free-floating spiritual invocations have already become a combination that we can reliably expect during one of his appearances, even at this early stage of his word-spreading. Collier was primed from the outset, bolstered by Benito Gonzalez's jagged pianism, across which his tenor lines uncoiled. From John Coltrane through to James Carter, he masters the tradition of unrelenting virtuoso flow. This wasn't quite free jazz, but it was raking the edges of cacophony, still brutally boisterous. On "The Almighty," Micah Collier bowed his bass while drummer Michael Shekwoada Ode and the leader moved to small percussion over a drone landscape. Collier vocalised through an electric megaphone, followed by a drum solo of phenomenal scale. All this happened up in Amerikana, a fine zone to collect extreme vibrations within its manageable size. Now that Collier is including vocals more, we can invite Pharoah Sanders to the line of influential forebears.

Sunday, October 29

For the festival's final night we all moved to the MTS Dvorana, Belgrade's slickly voluminous concert hall, to witness John Scofield and his opening act Stefano di Battista. The latter Italian saxophonist presented a sequence dedicated to the music of Ennio Morricone, which sounded appealing as a concept, but which failed to succeed in the fleshly realm. This quartet of players usually deliver, especially di Battista himself, but somehow they managed to make Morricone's expressive pieces sound bland and unexciting. It was worthwhile to hear the works transposed to the jazz zone, but this often seemed to neuter the style, removing the essence of Morricone. The best number had a samba feel, with an alto solo swooping down quietly, then shuffling off again, this obscure early piece preceding the massively popular "The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly."

Of course, most folks were filling the seats to see the Scofield Trio, celebrating new album Uncle John's Band (ECM, 2023). The recorded manifestation is exceedingly gentle, but in person Scofield provided a frisson of frazzle, pushing his strings a touch harder. The album's cover-world explores bluesy soft rock, but this live set presented "Blue Monk," to underline a jazz orientation. Then there was "Mo Green," one of the album's trio originals. Topically, Scofield also dropped in a couple of Carla Bley numbers, beginning with "Lawns," followed by Bob Dylan's "Mister Tambourine Man," which became a psych-blues country song. And then we had bebop- country crossover, with Ray Brown's "Ray's Idea," with a suitably fine bass solo from Vicente Archer, and then a brief drum solo from Bill Stewart, just to show off the trio's full wares, before re-entering the theme. Scofield is enthusiastically probing the hybrid genre field. There was a stretch of sleepy-time, but the set climaxed with the funky groove of Scofield's own "Mask," then an encore of Carla Bley's "Ida Lupino," which is turning out to be a popular choice when folks are paying homage to the great departed composer.

It seems that the sudden funding problems of 2022's edition had been resolved for 2023, at least as far as the festival appears via the public's experience. There was a marked return to a more positive, optimistic outlook, reinforced by strong attendances for pretty much every night. Adventure was maintained, and the usual blending of mainstream biggies and alternative surprises was present, as ever. The strikingly international BJF always manages to secure a strong line-up of in-demand artists, but should perhaps strengthen the native Serbian side for 2024.

Comments