Jazzkaar 2024

Jazzkaar
Telliskivi Creative City
Tallinn, Estonia
April 21-28, 2024

Customarily, the almost-always April placement of the Jazzkaar festival is accompanied by a goodly beaming of spring-flavored sunshine, perhaps infected by the odd murky downpour, but soon drying off its feathers. Instead, during 2024's 35th edition, Tallinn's wondrous eight-dayer was forced to accept an incongruous spring-mush of a snowstorm, deeply clinging, sludging around for a few days, chilled to the bones. Somewhat cleverly, Jazzkaar happens indoors, around the Telliskivi Creative City, mostly alternating between the smaller ground floor stage of the Fotografiska gallery and the full-theatre-size of a space what has now been taken over by the venerable Von Krahl drama company, in a full-on venue transplant from the old town.

As ever, the festival opened with a specially commissioned work, on a grander scale, composed for a large ensemble, containing a kernel of a combo, led by its writer (and singer) Bianca Rantala. Straight off, this combination formulated a style that had substantial musical structures, but were sometimes overlaid with ill-matching commercial-style pop vocal parts. Despite possessing a jazz heart, Moral Paradox sported the tongue of mainstream radio suitability, prompting a self-disconnected quality that was not particularly successful. Chief soloist was Finland's Jukka Eskola (trumpet, flügelhorn), fronting the impressive array of strings, mixed instruments, and six backing singers, all conducted by the dynamic Valter Soosalu. On a basic musical level, it was never less than interesting, and quite an achievement of unity.

Over in Fotografiska, we discovered the more compact form of a trio, although a threesome with a wide, cinematic sound, not least due to their heavy immersion in electronic forces. This is a new Estonian supergroup (although admittedly only viewable as such on a domestic level), featuring three key players on the Tallinn scene, all of them composers and bandleaders. Tobias Tammearu (reeds), Peedu Kass (basses) and Ramuel Tafenau (drums) tipped towards an electronic bias, with the saxophonist keeping to keyboards for the initial phase, the bass-man using them later in the set, and with pads popped by the percussionist. They formed a darkened, serious pulse, tenor eventually entering, as riffs rose, accompanied by an electric whine, drums splashing. The trio decided on sombre moods, then adhered to this format with cumulatively affecting results.

One of Luxembourg's most familiar bands appeared next door at Von Krahl, creating their own manifestation of the growing mood-mass. Dock in Absolute debuted a new dance work, featuring Tyana Schartz and Giovanni Zazzera. The all-barefoot Dock trio initially performed alone, with the dancers breezing in later in the performance, for its third number. Dock In Absolute's stability as a touring and recording entity ensures that their music is fixed with confidence, complexity and chance-taking. Pianist Jean-Philippe Koch is an outgoing leader, the band's principal composer, talkative via both keys and tongue. David Kintziger holds down the substantial five-string electric bass lines. Viktor Kraus handles the intricate rhythmic constructs. Their rippling flow frequently evoked a jazz-classical dignity, in a line from e.s.t., as Koch played a solo piece, "Tears For Peace," under a lone spotlight.

The dancers were integrated with the band, not performing in isolation, not always out front, on the floor, but mingling onstage, acknowledging the physical space of the musicians. Their movements were organized, but also possessed a loose-edged ability to fly off in what looked very much like improvisational responses, both to each other and to the music. Their movements were freely interpretive, incorporating pop music moves, but still coordinated via modern choreography. When Kintziger soloed, the dancers moved around him, gesturing encouragement. After a pause, they returned for the suitably-titled "Rolling," wiggling their toes, and pushing hard on each other's heads. As the set closed, "Submission" came from the early years of the trio's songbook, a doomy dirge, tolling its bell, sounding like a decelerated dub reggae anthem, with stop-start drum tattoos.

The next evening Julian Stella and Bastien Weeger (a reeds duo from France) appeared at Fotografiska, this pair puzzlingly named NoSax NoClar. What is the meaning of this unattractive moniker? Fortunately, their closely-melded music gave a much better impression of imaginative coupling. Combinations of saxophones and clarinets maintained the reed mingling, tonally natural in a blend of rich expressivity. There could be an alto saxophone and a clarinet, or a pair of clarinets, or soprano saxophone meeting bass clarinet: the harmonious permutations were abundant, sometimes sounding Balkan, or more specifically, akin to the Armenian duduk. Other numbers took a trip to Egypt.

A shunt to the main stage next door gave us Theo Croker, always on the road nowadays, and therefore subjecting his set to gradual changes, noticeable if we have caught him a few times, over the months. Croker manages to be commercially attuned to the realms of ambient hip hop, but never neglects his hardcore jazz trumpet sound. He even attempts to vocalize, an act which some folks might scoff at, but his 'natural' voice provides quite a pleasing casualness, when so many other acts choose to ladle on the slick neo-soul kitsch. Croker keeps it real.

Real spacey, that is, as we were scooped up to the membranous cosmic sac, assisted by ambient birdsong, and other Croker laptop filtrations. Acoustic piano was shaken up with synth warbling, as the leader shouted out instructions to bassist Eric Wheeler and drummer Jeremiah Collier. It might have seemed like he was unhappy with inattention, but as Croker continued to instruct throughout the set, we were wondering whether he was merely vibed up with spontaneous excitement rather than bitching about inaccuracy. He is in the zone of instant change as creation, as this combo metamorphoses on the road, in front of audiences' eyes. Croker had two microphones for his horn, giving him palette-control, one of them steeped in reverb.

This set sounded more hardcore, more focused, as if Croker was whittling down to essentials, trimming off any excess frills. Collier insisted on bashing out a persistent extra snare over Wheeler's sensitive bass solo, establishing rigid time, upholding the present tendency for unsubtle rap beats at dominant volume. Sometimes this tactic can also hold a strange power, as a drummer freaks out, wobbling his podium, destroying his kit, destroying our ears. Then, Idris Frederick poured out a finely constructed Fender Rhodes solo, to top off "64 Joints," a number which does not appear to be released yet.

The only gig happening outside of the Telliskivi Creative City part of town was the Snarky Puppy sell-out at the massive Alexela Kontserdimaja. Your scribe has never had his cockles warmed by this large outfit, having caught them once at the Gent Jazz Festival around a decade back, recalling that the best part of their set was an extended double percussion conversation/barrage. Time appears to have improved them, even if the character of their compositions is not quite what this writer usually desires. There is a slightly dated 1970s, or perhaps early '80s melodic and arranging style, kind of fusion, kind of diluted compared to other jazz-rock-funk-soul combos from around that same time- frame. In fact, The Puppy is most captivating when the band dismantles into smaller units, for dispersed action, even occasionally taking it down to a trio, duo or solo formation. This happened as the long set unwound, representing a more arresting fragmentation. Your scribe was, on several levels, impressed. Sometimes, there were three members all playing keyboards, but they could sometimes double on, for instance, trumpet. Leader Michael League also added keys, having occasionally downed bass. The horn section featured a pair of trumpets and a tenor saxophone that was frequently coated in effects, the latter soloing completely alone for a spell, before guitarist Robert Lanzetti pyromaniac-ed the stage with his own solo display. Drums entered, and the riffs got choppy, soon joined by a pair of synths, and then a marvelously catching League bass line to climax.

We could see how JT Conception, back at Von Krahl the next night, might be influenced by The Puppy. Composer and bassist Janno Trum* has had his name hijacked by the senile axis-of-orangeness bullet-dodger, hence the JT of his Conception. As recompense, the leader has filled the front line with five horns, from baritone to trombone, for punchy funk business, fronted by guesting chromatic harmonica player Mathias Heise. Sometimes he produced some good solos, but Heise seemed to be a.) under-rehearsed and b.) couldn't be bothered to be on stage for much of the time. His mind appeared to be elsewhere, either introversion or arrogance to be blamed. The second number made a detour from the funk, taking it down to slow rock, with a guitar solo steadily punctuated by horn phrases. The third tune bounced back to funk, powered by a sparking trumpet solo, the background guitar riffs often a rogue element. A fruity tenor solo was driven by a slippery Trum* bass line that included some detailed plucks up at the higher end.

The starry showstopper of the festival was Christian McBride, playing at 4pm on the final day of the festival. The big bass-man was last in Tallinn with Chick Corea, back in 2012. McBride unveiled his new young combo, Ursa Major, closely following a few club dates around the east coast area of the States. This crew already displays an involved potency, solos for all, and flighty themes abounding. McBride has also encouraged his players to provide their own compositions, thereby increasing the dynamic range of this quintet.

This fresh crop of players was a revelation, as Ursa Major opened with Donald Brown's "Theme For Malcolm" and "S'mo," by keyboardist Michael King. Even the guitarist Ely Perlman, whose amp-sound was often in the smooth jazz zone, provided some energized solos within the fray. McBride emanated that special push-feel, egging his partners on, awarding them with ample space. Nicole Glover offered a fleet and supple tenor saxophone solo, while King made organ purrings, soon reaching an overblowing climax, straight into an eloquent Rhodes solo. A sparse reggae vibe followed, as a trio core set up a swift pulse, King setting off a racing piano solo. His gear-array was perfectly suited to key-hopping, adding different hues to the palette. Perlman provided "Elevation," a restful number, unsurprisingly dominated by his axe, and then the fourth piece opened with McBride's bass, Spanish seasoning sprinkled by his speedy strums and pliable fingering. Glover shot out a fiery tenor solo, raising the waves of burn, leading to a sudden drum solo by rising star Savannah Harris, with fast flicks and close detail, sharp and bombastic. This tune turned out to be "La Fiesta," by Chick Corea. Harris herself contributed "More Is," opening at a measured pace, with sinewy electric bass from the leader, who closed out the set with his own number, "A Morning Story," a short ballad that led to another of his works, the funksome "Brouhaha," featuring a thorough guitar solo, choppy and flyaway. Ursa Major is a startling new band, already honed into a complicated improvisatory slickness.

Comments