Jazzkaar 2023

Jazzkaar
Tallinn, Estonia
April 23-30, 2023

Jazzkaar has now lost two days, this exceptional Estonian festival running at eight rather than ten, but still remaining epic when compared to most others. The opening Sunday might have only featured a single concert, but as the fresh week progressed, the scale incrementally increased, hitting four shows by Wednesday, and six by the weekend. Tallinn, this wondrous UNESCO City Of Music provides a highly evocative surround for the 34th Jazzkaar, which mostly alternates between the two venues of Vaba Lava and the Fotografiska gallery next door.

This festival always aims for a varied array of jazz, from free improvisation to Californian-style cool-bop. It also presents an increasing ratio of pop, rap and dance music, ranging from excellent to bland, depending on the artists in question. Most of the gigs appeared to be very well attended, particularly the more locally renowned Estonian acts, as well as the starry American groups. A handful of the more esoteric sets were sparsely attended, but that's the nature of adventurous sounds, sometimes likely to send audiences running scared.

Although the first Sunday only had one official Jazzkaar gig, its entire daytime was dedicated to freebie sets and events, as well as a record fair and a photography exhibition opening. The veteran French lensman André Perlstein's work was displayed outside in the central square of the vibrant Telliskivi Creative City, launched with the help of trumpeter Jason Hunter. His quartet's retro exploration of the West Coast sound was almost shocking, when today's festivals often shun this directly cool approach to swingin' propulsion and concise soloing. As the sun scorched early in the Baltics, Hunter lit the touchpaper for this year's edition in optimistic style, joyously tripping. Although American, Hunter has been residing in Tallinn for many years, and consistently makes several appearances at each Jazzkaar. As many of Perlstein's most impressive monochrome images feature Miles Davis, shot in the late 1960s and early '70s, it was fitting for a trumpeter to lead the opening chase.

Indoors at 6pm, a guitarama took over the large seated concert room of Vaba Lava. Five axemen took to the stage, two of them composing new music for this evening show. The third writer was keyboardist Peeter Vähi, who took to the stage midway through the proceedings. The guitars were divided between acoustic and electric, but the bias towards the latter grew as the set developed. Andre Maaker and Laur Joamets were the composers, joined by fellow guitarists Jaak Sooäär, Marek Talts and Paul Daniel. As it happened, much of the more energised soloing was provided by the non-writers. This Ocean Of Guitars was supported by bass, drums and timpani, the curve of the set beginning gently and gradually building the intensity. Such a string spread was reminiscent of Robert Fripp's League Of Crafty Guitarists, combining traits of jazz, rock and classical techniques. Even though the players had arrived from different style-corners, they all seemed adept at using the vocabularies of all these forms, interchangeably. Two guitars opened, trading solos, delicate strumming providing gossamer traceries, in a cascade of differing accents. They started to rock out, retaining the excitement of fuzz-distortion at a relatively low volume. Even Vähi sounded more like a guitarist than a keyboardist, loading his solos with effects. First the kettle drums and then the taiko skins were deployed, as the climaxing run turned into a biker headbanging session, tipping into a genuine 1970s conceptual prog bombardment. Genres were successfully married, and smiles all around resulted from this assured guttural complexity.

Monday evening's two concerts continued the strong domestic focus, beginning with a celebration of composer and saxophonist Valter Ojakäär, a renowned pop hit purveyor who also had a strong presence on the Estonian jazz scene. He departed this plane in 2016, but his music lives on, here arranged by Marti Tärn, with an opening run handled by three singers. Reedsman Aleksander Paal fronted a line-up who initially replicated a vintage pop-Latin sound, but the most engaging phase for jazzers in the audience was the guesting appearance of veteran saxophonist Raivo Tafenau, spotlighting Ojakäär's post-bebop instrumental output. Tafenau's tenor ballad warmth pervaded the stage, with Paal playing the composer's old alto on another Latinoid breezer.

A further warp back to the past took place with the reunited Reval Revival traditional jazz combo, four decades after their last blast. Since then, some of the membership have moved into modern jazz and beyond, but their desire to trot and clop with cheery humour is still strong. Once again, the shock of sepia Dixieland has a revolutionary power when surrounded by a mass of today's jazz, almost possessing an avant-garde quality when standing beside the current ways. A standard line-up of trumpet, clarinet, trombone, banjo, bass and drums pushed forth "Tiger Rag," stuttering frantically and flapping enthusiastically. Banjoman Mart Mikk was a touch shaky, but perhaps it's not his prime instrument. Meelis Vind (clarinet) is probably the most well-known player nowadays. Trombonist Ants Nuut hoisted a sousaphone, while trumpeter Jüri Leiten gave a muted solo. Another pint was frothed up by "Sweet Georgia Brown," complete with wobbling sousaphone solo, all whiskers and flatulence. The band sung in theatrically low tones during "Joe Turner's Blues," taken at a dragging slog-pace, then, yes indeedy, they climaxed with "When The Saints Come Marching In," their guesting singer-actress Evelin Vöigemast leading the parade. Her approach to vocals in this style was refreshingly and clearly influenced by outside musical forms, lending her approach an atypical stance.

Tuesday diverted towards the furthest point, as extremist pianist Kirke Karja unveiled her freshest compositions, designed to encourage the spirit of improvisation, but at times navigating highly complex charts. Karja's present trio is becoming her most stable unstable unit so far, as she has a history of forming fresh bands for new concepts on a regular basis. This one has remained on the road, and recording, for the last three or four years, with Etienne Renard (French bassist) and Ludwig Wandinger (German drummer) joined specially for Jazzkaar by an XL expansion from across European parts. Karja's changed tack was to double up on the instrumentation, with the exception of lone trumpeter Verneri Pohjola (Finland). So, curiously, we have the added Elias Stemeseder (Austrian pianist), Felix Henkelhausen (German bassist) and Sun-Mi Hong (South Korean drummer, dwelling in Amsterdam). This is an impressively well-known gang of virtuosi. Perhaps a self-imposed challenge, but onstage becoming an impressive risk, well taken.

"Lament" prominently featured the pair of bowed basses, with Stemeseder's upright piano having a pubby jangle, Pohjola simultaneously spiky and melodic. A suspended melancholic calm pervaded, the drummers contributing delicate cymbal work, cutting to a blistering trumpet of circular breathing continuity, adding to this growing forest of activity. The second number revolved around a delicate trumpet and bass figure, establishing a tolling lope. Time is keeping. A sequence of intense coupled piano trinkling leads into a coordinated group explosion, becoming a pomp procession, loaded with a hooking theme. This was the most extreme music of the festival, always prodding or jolting the audience into complete attention, with its dark moods and its bright awakenings. Control sounded akin to spontaneity.

Jazzkaar always finds a place for global cross-dressing innovations in its programme. Next up was the Fotografiska meeting between kora player Dawda Jobarteh (The Gambia) and percussionist Stefan Pasborg (Denmark). This duo has now been active for a decade, so a clear rapport has developed. They are mostly not concerned with gentle acoustic wanderings, but prefer a high adrenalin confrontation of dynamic solos and amplified power-surging. Not much prettified sensitivity here!

Jobarteh has a modal soft distortion sound, freaking out with speedy runs, compressing clusters of fast-note phrasing. Unusually, the pair play "Better Git It In Your Soul," the old Charles Mingus chestnut from 1959. For the fourth tune, Jobarteh actually sat down to play, turning down the volume and sounding closer to the expected traditional kora essence, slowing down considerably. They concluded with "Dancing In Your Head" (Ornette Coleman), which was perfectly suited to their inflamed distortion climaxing, a celebratory anthem of staggered syncopation.

This evening was one of Jazzkaar's best, concluding with a band that could have been called Stern Visage. It's rare indeed for guitarists Mike and Leni Stern to head out on the road together, but their interlocking ease suggested that this should be a regular strategy. Mike's accustomed cohorts Bob Franceschini (saxophone), Chris Minh Doky (bass) and Dennis Chambers (drums) were also on the tour bus. Perhaps they're on the road as a result of NYC's 55 Bar closing its doors?

Mike has two Fender amplifiers and Leni has one, but she also arrived armed with a West African ngoni, which she played to open up the set with her tune "Like A Thief." From the second number, "Out Of The Blue," the levels are upped considerably as Mike launched into an epic guitar solo, seeming to last around ten minutes. Franceschini slowed down into a sleaze-blooze groove, with Leni not so audible until she took her own solo. "You Never Know" was a medium-paced rockster tune, with Franceschini soloing via harmonised effects. The Sterns gave a typically extended set, visibly becoming more and more enthused, they and their bandmates all delivering numerous power-loaded solos, with Chambers roused to become a beyond-human thunder-being. Even the encore was a thorough examination of "Red House," the Jimi Hendrix blues classic. We were here for the long night!

The next day proceeded on a quieter level. Pianist Taz Modi played first, alongside the Prezioso Quartet of violins, viola and cello. Modi works with Portico Quartet and Submotion Orchestra, but has also released a solo album, Reclaimed Goods (Reclaimed Redcords, 2019). The Estonian Prezioso strings interleaved well with Modi's becalmed introversion, performing in low light, and establishing a carefully poised atmosphere of contemplation. Modi worked with an acoustic piano and a Prophet synthesiser, playing solo at first, but with much laptop help. His electronics input was dispersed around the speakers, as the core piano was sonically refracted outwards. A certain Philip Glassiness was apparent. Eventually, some heavy loop-backing assisted in an escalation, Modi tinkering with his prepared piano alterations. This was the time when Jazzkaar's always innovative digital lighting strips became more crucial to the performance, sending out a flashing collage glitter, in keeping with this year's governing merchandise look. Modi played pieces from his Reclaimed Goods album, but also previewed the contents of Black Flowers, its follow-up. The electronic beats grew some meat, and then a swirling evanescence of soft shimmer appeared, around a placid piano development. The strings sung sorrowfully during "Involuntary Memories," and its Erik Satie qualities revealed Modi's oldest possible influence.

Ramuel Tafenau is a key drummer on the Tallinn scene, and his quartet also features bassist Janno Trump, another important figure. This hardcore muso combo opted for fusion funkiness, with Trump on electric bass, Kristen Kütner on guitar, and Artis Boriss moving between keyboards and acoustic piano, this latter thriving within a largely electric swirl. Spectre guitar and fretless-sounding bass allow greater space, with the audience being extremely attentive. A heavily decelerated ragtime feel developed, and a funky piano solo took flight, but there was a less appealing weebling Prophet keyboard solo on the next "Around The Corner." These Prophets are lately getting back into fashion!

Steve Coleman & Five Elements played early, at 6pm on the Thursday, deeply concentrated on their diligent winding of patterns, their continual soloing-as- theme accumulations. Rich Brown played six-string bass, quite close to the style of Anthony Tidd, oozing out labyrinthine slow-funk sculptures. Coleman and Jonathan Finlayson entwined their alto saxophone and trumpet parts, leading to temporary ascendances of each as a solo was suggested, before gradually subsuming back into a joint theme. Coleman's instant compositions are descended from Ornette Coleman's Prime Time, principally, executed by a tighter unit, without the meshing guitars. Five Elements still scribe their own signature, though, as the concepts of originality evolve. Patterns are gradually elaborated, with Coleman even issuing sounds that could structurally be sustained guitar lines, in a parallel existence, while his bandmates are busy being locked together. The horn players enjoyed using cowbells when they take rare stretches without blowing, these implements distributed by Sean Rickman, whose drumkit was already way too massive. Never have we witnessed such a rock-style array being used to such subtle rhythmic patterning effect. Brown's bass quickened, the skins getting slippery and skidding, then the horns raced towards the endgame. There's an Estonian tradition of bestowing blooms on the artists, at the end of their sets, and Coleman is the only saxophonist who has elected to place them in his bell.

The young Portuguese fado singer Sara Correia is a lover of dramatic excess, and something of a showbiz entertainer, lacking the cool casualness of, let's say, Mariza. However, as her set progressed, Correia settled into the stage lighting, becoming more natural, showing humour, revealing her emotional state. Soon, she was connecting with her audience, and even stepping out front, down the aisles, smearing the boundaries. Correia's band also shone, especially during the brief pauses for solo displays, particularly Angelo Freire on scintillating Portuguese guitar. Later in her set, Correia almost went into a trance state, making split-second pauses before a renewed vocal surge, increasing her expressive hand gestures and arm-shapes. Yes, she's sometimes mainstream in performance orientation, but also capable of a stripped emotion exposure.

Jorge Luis Pacheco is all over the joint, musically. This young Cuban pianist can traverse the activities of covering a tune by one of the worst bands in the pop universe to negotiating territory that veers towards a manifestation of Havana free-jazz complexity. His album is comprised of highly mixed tracks, but his live show was more focused. Pacheco is actually an extreme stylist, adventurously virtuoso, but he manages to weld this quality to an outgoing entertainer personality. Also, any note cluster rushes are mostly happening around the pulse of danceable Cuban traditions. Perhaps he's following some of the extreme trails laid out by the veteran Chucho Valdes.

The best way to draw in a crowd is to play "Chan Chan," by Compay Segundo of the Buena Vista Social Club. It's also the most obvious tactic, but it coalesced out of quite an abstract opening, with bass and drums joining in as Pacheco began singing. Then he embarked on a long piano solo, emphatically turning this reading into a jazz incarnation. Like many pianists before him, Pacheco tends to vocalise while playing his flamboyant show-off solos. He made rollercoaster repetitions. Then he weaved spidery formations, lowering the pace for "Silencio," the famed 1932 bolero from Puerto Rico. Soon, he was singing again, powering up, no holding him back, as Pacheco rapped speedily in Spanish. As the set's climax neared, he played the third movement of his symphony, translated to piano trio form, running with a different form of complexity. Pacheco is puzzlingly diverse, but it's a highly successful approach, a blend rarely encountered. His encores were "Guantanamera," segueing into "El Manicero," but even these obvious choices were delivered with élan.

The Finnish saxophonist Linda Fredriksson continues to tour with Juniper, a band and an album title, a calmness and an outburst, by turns. There was an ambient forest of jazz, with a subtle bass electronics pulse, alto rising out of this amniotic fluid, bristling with a surround of modular synth-type fibrillations. Switching to baritone, Fredriksson prompted a rousing that's harder, faster and busier, honking as Olavi Louhivuori's drums slammed. A hedge of electronic undergrowth made a radical cut towards acoustic piano, for a softer finish, developing into the poignant "Pine Tree Song," one of the album's best numbers. Bittersweet, tentative and ruminative. The "Juniper" tune itself closed, with baritone gruffness and a Fender Rhodes-oid solo from Tuomo Prattala, adept on both acoustic and electronic fronts.

The night closed with Koloah and Dennis Adu, an electronics and trumpet duo from Ukraine. Adu moved there from Ghana at an extremely early age, and his horn has a generally eastern sound not specific to any one African nation. He also plays flugelhorn. Koloah's swathes of sound grew, and suddenly a warbled distortion was lain across the room, with hard beats emerging, a funky chorus developing. It was the sound of ambient cityscapes, with airplane flyovers, turning deeper into an urban horrorflick nite-scape, somewhere that John Carpenter might be lurking. Adu issued a rousing trumpet phrase, above increasing beat-rates, a frosted escalation that topped this suitably around-midnight set.

At 4pm on the Saturday of the closing weekend, the Estonian singer Ingrid Lukas gently enticed the audience into her personal world of what might be called stoner fairy- folk. Or hippy weirdness. Or alternative pagan-spliff electronics. Lukas is an inspired songwriter, even if her works operate by slipping a sly tendril inside the cerebellum, tickling with a repeated phrase. Such is the way with "Analogue Connections," which could be described as a woozy anthem. The band featured a drummer from South Africa, an alto saxophonist from Italy, but they all reside in Zurich. There was a lot of instrument-swapping, especially regarding who was playing keyboards, and who was taking the prime vocal line. "Strong, Bold And Brave" was another fine song. Lukas eccentrically spouted what might be some kind of wisdom from her ever-present notebook, which semed to be the source of all knowledge. 'Kooky' is a word specially invented for this crew. Lukas and company came across as a musical healing sect, simultaneously absurd and profound. There were stretches of what can only be described as rambling, but then all spheres intersected and a compulsive song unfurled. The Estonian folk elements have a quality similar to Sami singing, as Lukas whispered her lines along with skipping and skittering digital beats, well-combined with actual acoustic percussion.

At the other end of Saturday, the late set revealed another subtly innovative Estonian singer, in the shape of Maris Pihlap, who set out as a folk fiddler but is now making electronic slow-dance songs. She was still holding on to the violin, but also layering up her own backing vocals, with a strangely Malian Sahara hint, the fiddle sampling ending up sounding slightly Chinese. Pihlap is interested in sonic displacement, but within a song-format. "Running through the woods on your own," she sang, through a glug-mass of electronics, once again opting for the alternative anthem approach, her synth burbling sounding somewhat Terry Riley-esque. Pihlap and Lukas were a couple of key Estonian singer- composer discoveries at this year's Jazzkaar...

The Ben Wendel Group provided the closing Sunday peak with a compulsively solo-loaded set that was partially derived from the Canadian saxophonist's new album material, albeit performed by this regular crew, without the starry guests that are present on the LP, All One. The album has received the odd lukewarm review, but it handles the invited players well, and Wendel has arranged the music in a quite individualist fashion.

This quartet gig was necessarily more direct, with maximum soloing possibilities. Wendel's footpedal set-up allowed an orchestrated sound to his tenor, as he made a stately introduction, with the promise of imminent sonic construction. He was joined by Taylor Eigsti (piano), Harish Raghavan (bass) and Nate Wood (drums). "In Anima" opened (the tune on the album that features Tigran Hamasyan), followed by "January," and then a brand new, unrecorded number. "Wanderers" was next up (Terence Blanchard appearing on the album), with its keening vibrato layers throughout, swaying along as Wood delivered a precisely mathematical solo, rattling phrases across his drumheads. The theme snuck in, Wendel bathing the piece in his light. He dedicated a piece to Ahmad Jamal ("Song Song"), and selected "Unforeseeable" as an encore, rollin' hard and tough. Wendel repeatedly offered up contained solos that possessed no extraneous matter, and his three cohorts were compatibly strengthened beside him, the entire set flying by as each band member shone in turn. This was direct jazz, thematically involving and riddled with energetic invention. Did Wendel catch Steve Coleman's set? He too inserted his blooms into the bell of his horn at the end of the show...

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