Though Sue Rynhart has played a number of jazz festivals, including a memorable performance at
Bray Jazz Festival 2016, the fact is that it's no easy task trying to stick her music in a box. As this performance demonstrated jazz is indeed one part of the mix, but there are so many more colors to Rynhart's palette. Bassist
Dan Bodwell has been the rhythmic motor in what has mostly been a duo until quite recently, providing vibrant ostinatos and lithe accompaniment to Rynhart's singular singing style. Part traditional folk, part avant-garde pop, Rynhart swung between the brooding poetry of "Little Red Fox" and the lulling balladry of "Penny for your Thoughts" to the infectious idiosyncrasy of "Viper," her seductive vocals buoyed by Bodwell's earthy bass lines.
Francesco Turrisi, who guested on Rynhart's second album
Signals (Mrsuesue Records, 2017), brought additional timbres on frame drum and organ. On "Silliest Game" his intro on a hybrid, custom built lute-cum-oud was spellbinding. The Italian multi-instrumentalist's timeless folkloric and church-like nuances brought out the emotional depth of Rynhart's compositions, suggesting that as a trio, the singer can take her hypnotic, inimitable music in entirely new directions.
The Paul Dunlea Group Cork trombonist
Paul Dunlea can be found in a wide variety of settings, although it's as a jazz musician/arranger that he's best known, having played/recorded with the likes of
Marshall Gilkes,
Taylor Eigsti,
Cassandra Wilson,
Peter Washington,
Lewis Nash and
Billy Drummond. Here, backed by his quintet of seven years standing, Dunlea demonstrated his skills as a soloist, composer and arranger, leading his group through fairly complex charts notable for their melodic character.
Drummer
Alyn Cosker, bassist
Barry Donohue and pianist
Leopoldo Osio proved a lithe and dynamic rhythm section, with Venezuelan Osio's solo excursions raising the temperature a notch or two. Much of the music's charm resided in the rich harmonic lines woven by tenor saxophonist
Ben Castle and Dunlea, though there was individual fire aplenty, notably from Castle and Dunlea on "Heads or Tails," an episodic number that concluded on a quieter note with Donohue's beguiling, unaccompanied bass meditation.
At its most intimate Dunlea's music swayed between achingly lyrical and melodically uplifting, with the transitions to more robust ensemble passages building gradually but surely, like day following night. The final tune, a post-bop burner of sure rhythmic compass and stirring solosno less so than from the continually inventive Coskerset the seal on an impressive set. Dunlea is undoubtedly an assured trombonist, but perhaps his greatest strength lies in his composing, while his main instrument is arguably the ensemble he writes forwhich in this case was most persuasive.
Day Three
Thunderblender Thunderblender is a Belgian-based trio led by Dubliner
Sam Comerford, who can also be found in a number of other excellent projects, including
Ingo Hipp's Aerie,
Chris Guilfoyle 's Umbra and Insufficient Funsthe latter a duo with drummer
Matthew Jacobson. Thunderblender's debut release,
Last Minute Panic (Honolulu Records, 2017) announced the trio's blend of studied composure and thrill-seeking , but in concert, as those in the Black Box gig witnessed, the music took on an added dimension.
Flanked by pianist
Hendrik Lasure and drummer
Jens Bouttery , Comerford switched back and forth between tenor and bass saxophones on an untitled opening number. The bass saxophone is a beast of an instrument, but Comerford handled it with the same dexterity and fluidity as he did the tenor as the trio flitted between composed and improvised channels, surfing rising-falling waves of dynamicsspacious and tender at one extreme, flowing and tumultouos at the other.
The energized "Bozza" fairly catapulted out of the blocks, with bass-synth, mini shakers and electronic soundscaping adding subtle contemporary textures. Stabbing piano chords and fractured drum rhythms framed Comerford's tenor excursion, which grew from meandering and melodious to searing. Comerford's bass saxophone riffed its way through the body of "Last Minute Panic," the spare compositional framework inviting spiky free improvisation, with piano and drums to the fore; a slower, hazily lyrical passage stretched out into a trance-inducing, lulling coda.