Jazz Juniors 2021

Jazz Juniors
Kraków, Poland
October 6-9, 2021

Since your scribe last visited the Jazz Juniors competition in 2018, this steadily evolving festival has undergone further changes, not least the appointment of saxophonist Adam Pierończyk as artistic director. It's also had to deal with anti-virus restrictions, turning livestream in 2020, but escaping somewhat unscathed in '21, just before the Euro-situation worsened once again. The central competition aspect of this festival has a 45 year history, although the surrounding format continues its transmogrification.

For the '21 edition there seemed to be a sharper focus, positioning the competition on its opening evening, letting the youth-tension disperse at the beginning rather than at the close of its four days. The following three days featured nightly high profile sets by prominent international artists, each topped off by a late club session, showcasing indigenous Polish players, many of whom held positions as prizewinners in previous years. Now they are advancing further in their art.

These three strong threads of competing sets, showcase gigs and established visitor concerts provided a firm structure to the four days, using two venues for three nights, and a third for the 'auditions.' Also, the selections of Pierończyk possessed a palpable sense of being more uncompromisingly extreme in their stances, whether considering the guest acts or the actual entrants in the competition. Another factor was the hardcore jazz nature of these bands, even if their range was still broad when it came to 'extensions' of electronics, free improvisation, classical modernity, Afro-groove, or mangled rock guitaring. Smooth jazz and poppy puffballing were virtually forbidden.

Pierończyk was joined by a pair of key judges, American guitarist Jean-Paul Bourelly and Moroccan gnaoua multi-instrumentalist Majid Bekkas. Also present was a gang of guest promoters and festival organisers, set on selecting acts from the competition to appear on their future calendars, with an instant booking responsiveness, as they huddled together, discussing each band's mertits, straight after the performance had concluded. Amongst the voters were representatives from London's Pizza Express, Ronnie Scott's, the Budapest Music Center and the Belgrade Jazz Festival.

Unleashed Cooperation opened the competition trials, in the large, tiered-seating theatre of the Nowa Huta Cultural Centre. A Polish quintet, they featured tenor saxophone, trumpet, piano, bass and drums. Your scribe had already been impressed by this band at the Szczecin Jazz festival in February of 2021. Jazz Juniors isn't exactly overloaded by fifteen-year-olds, having an age range potential ranging up to artists in their early thirties. Pianist Patryk Matwiejczuk also had a Nord keyboard, delving under his acoustic's lid after an exposed trumpet solo from Patryk Rynkiewicz, as Flavio Gullotta bowed his bass. The drums and tenor of Stanisław Aleksandrowicz and Krzysztof Kuśmierek began to rough up the number, the latter with a rugged, circulatory solo. Then there was a drumming-alone section, where Aleksandrowicz proved himself to be tonally aware, musically rounded on the skins. This didn't inhibit his hard attack, when needed. There was a swift alternation between theme and solos, in what turned out to be a lone number, feeling like it hit the 20 minute mark. That's one of the strategies that can be taken within these compacted competition showings.

Pauses between sets were short, as the highly efficient stage team jackknifed from one band to the next, set up and soundchecked in advance. So, Ziema appeared promptly. Drums, bass, guitar and trumpet worked together on a purposeful walking pace, as axeman Oskar Tomala swelled up clouds around Mateusz Żydek's prickly trumpet soloing. Their malleable formations underwent a slippery evolution from one section to the next. Tomala stood out again, with a dispersed groove solo, jetstream chords heading into a free zone, as Żydek breathed firefly trumpet sparks. Ziema frequently made twists that fooled expectations.

From Hungary, the Nagy Emma Quintet were the first visitors from outside Poland. Led by singer Emma Nagy (in Hungary first names and surnames are reversed), this crew offered a remarkable mixture of contrasting aspects. Nagy was joined by guitar, keyboards, bass and drums, with her vocals having a relatively mainline jazz styling, as her cohorts proceeded to play angular and frequently surprising structures. Joined as an entity, they sent percussive jolts out to punctuate her lines, drummer Ádám Klausz being particularly impressive with his sudden hard-attack explosions and rapid hi-hat jitters. Péter Cseh's abrasive guitar led to the song's cessation, then there were repeat group trills, and a drum solo, furthering the surprise manoeuvres. There were free bursts integrated with melodic progressions, with the sharpest of drum-crack endings. That was probably just the first song. The second piece had a softer Henry Cow-ed texture, and the third continued to subvert the song-form into a sort of prog-lounge relaxation, Nagy issuing what could be called art-scat, with a high complexity rating.

Your scribe's own favoured band during this competition day was Federico Calcagno & The Dolphians. Hailing from Milan, this gang sound like they have an affinity with those older Italians, Roots Magic, amalgamating almost-crazed hyperactivity with 'effortless' virtuosity. They had the look of being the most experienced 'juniors,' coming across as a locked-tightly combo. Their name comes from a shared admiration for Eric Dolphy's music, but they nevertheless emanate a strong personal style. Their chosen concept is to continue from where the master got curtailed in his explorations. Calcagno mostly played bass clarinet, partnered by a pair of saxophonists (tenor/alto), the six-piece line-up completed by vibraphone, bass and drums. Close-shave reed unisons confirmed their confident propulsion abilities, with much changing of relationships, leaping into a tenor-drums battle, then blowing out the set with "Perseverance" and "The Great Reopening."

The following Superminimalism were well organised sonically, but seemed notably tame and reserved following after the Dolphians. Returning to Poland, we heard a line-up of trumpet, paired tenor saxophones, bass and drums. They painted vivid colours in a soft cycle of a quite advanced stylistic development. Drums and cowbell shaped a pattern, with didgeridoo-toned bass bowing, from the fat-sounding strings of Michał Aftyka, the horns unified and streamlined. What Superminimalism lacked was the friction edge.

Sometimes your scribe finds himself diverged from majority opinion. Twospeak garnered quite a strong amount of verbal enthusiasm between several attendees, when discussed post-set. However, it must be said that they sounded painfully in thrall to the London-Los Angeles sound, when compared to all of the other acts. This lent them a commercialised sheen that often seemed transparent. Alto saxophonist Ronan Perrett is rooted in Cornwall, England, and came across as a touch too eager to please, both musically and in his between-tune patter. On one level, Twospeak had a 'now' sound, but they sometimes appeared clumsy and unsure, rhythmically rigid. The synthy guitar sound of Mike De Souza was problematic, at least to the ears of your scribe. It was also puzzling why they had the worst onstage mix, when all of the other bands sounded well-balanced, all elements well-arranged. At one point, the first number just disintegrated. Perrett came across as the leader figure, but he spent too much of the time to the side of the stage, even within these short-set conditions, allowing the guitar and keyboards to overstay interminably.

Later, at the Mile Stone Jazz Club, the awards were handed out, but unlike previous competitions, the highest placements didn't get to play short sets. Instead, a dj spun on into the night. The Mile Stone is a basement joint attached to the side of Kraków's Qubus Hotel, its doors shuttered during the various lockdowns, but revived for Jazz Juniors as its nightly after-hours haunt. Now, unfortunately, Mile Stone has slipped back into a dormant state.

The first prize was awarded to The Nagy Emma Quintet, and the second prize was shared between Superminimalism and The Dolphians. The third prize went to Unleashed Cooperation. There were also invitations for the bands to appear at various festivals and venues in 2022, with all acts garnering at least one booking, and several managing two dates.

The second evening opened in the unusual suspended structure of Cricoteka, a rust-shaded art museum with its own theatre. The chief Jazz Juniors judges formed their own improvising trio: Jean-Paul Bourelly played guitar, but also had a snare drum and cymbals within reach. Majid Bekkas mostly played gimbri, the core instrument of gnaoua music, but he also sang, and wielded qraqeb (metal castanets) and mbira (thumb piano). Adam Pierończyk mainly played soprano and tenor saxophones, but also brought his laptop, as well a ghaita double-reed horn. The very presence of Bekkas tended to nudge the threesome's improvisations in the North African direction, in a manifestation of free gnaoua.

Bourelly also vocalised, as the trio soon made it clear that they imposed no barriers on particular roles within this unit, each member free to exchange positions within the evolving scenario. Pierończyk was the last to enter, cautiously sprouting tendrils, with a keening Ornettian quality in evidence, well-suited to the Moroccan character on show. Soon, with laptop foundation, a heavier pulse-number had mbira-clicks and ghaita whorls, with booming bass-beats, Bekkas adding qraqeb clatter. Bourelly contributed some bluesy licks, as Pierończyk pranced lightly on soprano. The dubby swamp thickened, pulses repeating this depth-charge undertow, as Bekkas showed off some extremely swift fingering on the mbira, creating resonant harmonies via effects. Sometimes, the improvising sounded slightly hesitant, as the three searched out a pathway, but this was redeemed by the vivid definition once they repeatedly intersected, at just the right point in the instant composing. We could witness the process of these three puzzling out their arcane pathways.

Next up, the trombonist Nils Wogram led his Root 70 foursome, joined by Hayden Chisholm (alto saxophone), Matt Penman (bass) and Jochen Rueckert (drums). Together for just over two decades, this Euro-American-Antipodean crew revel in a supreme rapport of complexity, humour and unpredictability. The thematic dramatics may well be rigorously controlled, but the quartet has a bold risk-taking edge that enables them to visibly change course, if the whim takes hold, secure in their complete knowledge of the material. Compared to the previous trio, this was a bout of hardcore jazz tradition, even if highly unusual in some of its compositional swerves and skids. Their wire was taut, but bouncing and skipping was not outlawed. In a sense, this was the ultimate hard bop attack, even if bordering on avant clubland territory. Wogram muted his 'bone, vocalising as if chortling, then graduating to an open bell to continue the solo, as Penman was setting up a running (rather than walking) bass line, Chisholm blurring his fingering for a fluid alto statement.

There were other surprises. A melodica solo from the leader. An evocative poem performed by Chisholm, who later surprised even more with his entrancing throat singing on "Hot Summer Blues." The band made halting, staccato thrusts whilst Chisholm slipstreamed his phrases, "Homeland's Sky," read with a low-flutter trombone, faintly drawn bass and drums. Chisholm then chased them all with a beseeching alto solo. After a short return to a capella throat vocalising, he jumped into a lively theme, with nary a breath taken in the microsecond gap. There is more substance present in one number by this band than many other outfits manage to dredge up for a complete set.

The festival scheduling was somewhat optimistic, so each evening's showcase run in the Mile Stone Jazz Club tended to begin closer to 11pm than the advertised 10pm. It was good to have a relaxed 'round midnite environment, so each of the nightly three acts had ample space to communicate their skills. The Kuba Banaszek Quartet's pianist leader was joined by alto saxophone, bass and drums, but he could surely have managed without them, so dominant and centrally placed was his own forefront soloing. This was such a ridiculously extended display that it became the spine of the piece, the other players held in a lowly supporting role. Eventually, the other three even ceased their playing, as Banaszek rippled onwards. After even more pianism, the band returned, and this became the number that could never end..!

The following quartet was a way more democratic outfit, although its pair of out-front soloists are now becoming quite established on the Polish scene, appearing in their own bands, as well as acting as sidemen. Violinist Tomasz Chyła and guitarist Jakub Mizeracki each have strong playing personalities, driven by virtuosity and volatile energies. Chyła set up a serrated sawing, as if in a folkish manifestation of Steve Reich's minimalism, as Mizeracki roused his colleague into more frenetic activity, their parts meshing. Chyła soon shifted to a blistered jazz rock sound, shaping a slow-dragging rock-folk, Mizeracki contributing spangled rifflets and incendiary curlicues.

To close the night, tenor saxophonist Marta Wajdzik led a newly-formed group on a fresh journey. A line-up of guitar, piano, bass and drums initiated a pastoral sense of calm, with Wajdzik taking some tenacious, deeply involved solos. As the set evolved, a sequence of piercing attacks were sprung during "Centrifugal Force," leaping out from a logical construction of patterns. Sometimes, Wajdzik's colleagues sounded a touch too bland when set beside the intensity of her soloing.

The Stateside trumpeter Peter Evans was under the spotlight early in the third evening, at Cricoteka. First he delivered a solo set, and then he joined a Polish quartet of saxophone, piano, bass and drums, to interpret his recent composition "Point Of Return." Evans has been returning to the European festival circuit with a bold energy, in recent months, usually revealing varying aspects in different cities and countries. His opening solo set might have been assumed to be a high level dash of a 30 minute duration, but Evans startled the audience with an extended set that was taken at a highly intense pitch, without any let up. It was a staggering display of technique that also succeeded in keeping its listeners enthralled, continually. Hardly any completely solo performers could have sustained such compulsive power over such a lengthy spell.

His circular breathing turned into heavy breathing, as he shot out crowded phrases, making a sort of pseudo-layering mass, as notes became tangled in their own resonances. This gave the impression of coruscating cycles, allowing the listener to construct the full mental cascade, as Evans displayed what might be called avant-plumbing techniques, each molecule of his horn's construction analysed, deep piping amplified into dripping chambers. He relishes the percussive sounds heightened by up-close microphone technique, hacking, spitting, gushing forth. Evans built a one-man symphony, with a virtuoso classicism skating across a smorgasbord of crammed styles, into a maze of thematic passageways. A slow-motion draining was magnified by a small contact microphone on his piccolo trumpet. Evans made slight distance-changes between bell and microphone, altering the reverberation qualities, premiering sounds that we've never previously heard from a trumpet.

Evans didn't play on all of the Polish quartet's set, but he set the players on fire before returning close to the climax. Wojciech Lichański (alto saxophone), Kajetan Borowski (piano), Piotr Narajowski (bass) and Piotr Budniak (drums) connected well, as what sounded like a spontaneous percussive onslaught of immense power and detail heralded a frenetic bebop invention, filled with fast solo exchanges. Evans took advantage of the shock tactics generated by his first set's focused extremity, followed by a hyper-jazz complexity, rooted in old school tactics, though articulated in an extreme manner.

The Friday showcase back down in Mile Stone presented a further three acts. The Marcin Pater Trio featured an unusual line-up fronted by the leader's vibraphone, supported by drums and electric bass, the latter taking the tunes in a lighter, funkier direction. Their closing number held a slinkier nightclub melancholy, which soon caught fire, switching to almost-bombast, with a verbose five-string bass solo. Pater had a technique of dampening the ring on his metal bars, muting the bright shimmer of his vibes, as bassman Mateusz Szewczyk switched to upright acoustic.

Second up was The Stanisław Słowinski Quintet, led by the violinist, with trumpet, piano, bass and drums. A drawing together of forces had hints of a haunting tone, beginning with freeness, heading into a world of mordant thought. Sombre colours draped across an energised rapport, notably between the violin and trumpet as they built an ascending passage of a classically hue, uplifting, dark and volatile.

Seti Setters closed the night, a quartet with modular synthesiser, floor-keyboards, piano, bass and drums, with a degree of role-changing within the band. Elements of Indian classical music impinged, not so much via the musical vocabulary, but through the structure, meditational vibrations, and floor-seated concentration. Some of the synthlines carried a subliminal presence, a subterranean quality that was better defined during stretches when most of the band played quietly.

For the final day of this very substantial programme, the structure circled back around, with the early evening Cricoteka sets, followed by three acts at the Mile Stone. The tenor saxophonist Jure Pukl, from Slovenia, guested with the Polish trio of bassist Maciej Kitajewski. Pukl's classic, breathy sound provided the closest band to the jazz mainline during this festival. There was a tautness with a frothy topping, as he rippled, with hardly any rogue sonic disruptions. Expected gestures pervaded, with textures akin to the touch of a feline paw. A descending ripple slipped downwards like a disrobed silken kimono, as tenor and piano chimed together. Then, the tenor was left alone, in its fibrillating softness. Pukl produced a whalesong mulling, like a relaxed Colin Stetson, until the trio returned, becoming more active. Franciszek Raczkowski's piano awakened into some emphatic runs, the tenor weighing back in, toughened in front of a pushing drum solo. The core jazz values almost came as the sound of surprise, in the context of the Jazz Juniors predilection for adventuring examples of the form.

Seamus Blake surprised, but in a very different way. Renowned as a tenor man, he appeared here as a solo performer, unveiling his skills as a multi-instrumentalist one-man band, heavily electronic, but still featuring some saxophone solos. Blake had been teaching in Florence, making it easier for an American on the road. Well, technically he was born in England, but has spent most of his time in Vancouver and NYC. Blake as a sit-down comedian was also part of the show, as he neurotically spun tales of his music's genesis. Glitchy loops were sometimes subject to an uncertain execution, like he's still new to this laptoppery game, but that didn't matter so much, as it added a makeshift energy to the tunes, the dangling danger of chance. He'd penned some nagging motifs, which he accumulated steadily, picking up an electronic wind instrument that looked like a taser. Blake's mastery of foot pedals is not yet complete, but the results still cohere, endowed with an individual sonic character, of refracting cosmic repetition. Suddenly he flipped the beat-switch on his laptop, adding a bass dollop, then getting a clarinet tone on his e.w.i. Yes, Blake should have played more tenor, but generally his debuting solo incarnation bodes well for the future of low-budget touring.

In the Mile Stone, the Ziółek Kwartet were led by the pianist Grzegorz Ziółek, bolstered by trumpet, bass and percussion. The leader scampered off, with a percussive, flying free-form scuttle, pacing and pumping with a dramatic tension. Marcin Elszkowski took a fuming trumpet solo, as Piotr Narajowski bowed mournful bass, gathering towards a conclusion, Miłosz Berdzik's drums cracking, Ziółek's piano luminous.

The violinist Bartosz Dworak gave a solo recital for the middle set, adding a dash of electronics, as he seemed to be fabricating drone material from original string sources. This suspended foundation had moderne classical roots weaving down to the ground, but there was also a folksiness to the electric skeleton-violin's melodic content. When beats and small keys were added, a 1980s throwback aura permeated the club, like a new age reading of Steve Reichian scything.

The Pawel Manka Semiotic Quintet closed out the festival, their guitarist leader joined by tenor saxophone, piano, bass and drums. Twitchy mechanics led to an extended piano work-out, all jangled atonality, as the tenor cried out in sympathy, drums urging the whole crew along. The leader released an angular, capering guitar solo, with rapid repeats of dwarf-figures, before segueing his combo into a reflective closing number.

This third club showcase was probably the least gripping of the four days, as the following two acts found it hard to compete with the opening Ziółek Kwartet. Generally, though, the entire Jazz Juniors possessed a dense momentum, cannily jumping from one thread to the next, established international guests to less familiar local ascendants, and to open the festival, a very strong collection of bands that were mostly ready to spring forcefully out of their emergent, developing years.

Meanwhile, in the land of alternative beer, the local Trzech Kumpli brewery has long held a sponsoring connection to the festival, but in 2021 it took a step further, becoming the high visibility vendor at each gig, encouraging the youth of Poland down a hoppy road. Founded in 2014, its beer innovation manifesto now sits rightfully at the side of the improvisational extremities heard during much of Jazz Juniors.

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