Allison Au: Migrations

Canadian saxophonist Allison Au says she was drawn to the simplicity of a jazz quartet "as a vehicle for realizing the visions of my original compositions." Charlie Parker must have felt the same way; Art Pepper, too. And John Coltrane. Au stuck to this format for her Wander Wonder (Self Produced, 2018) and 2017's self-produced Forest Grove (review here). Both were terrific outings that spoke to the young artist's potential. But as with the noted giants mentioned above, Au must have felt a need to expand her palette and explore the endless possibilities of a larger ensemble. She does this with Migrations.

The alto saxophonist has kept her jazz quartet in tow—pianist Todd Pentney, bassist Jon Maharaj, with Fabio Ragnelli sitting in the drummer's chair. To this line-up, Au has added a string quartet and a vibraphone, and vocalist Laila Biali. The results are lush, rich and sweepingly gorgeous, reaching well beyond expectations for a musician with only three previous small ensemble efforts under her belt. It is a major work of art. It could be tagged her magnum opus, but it is early in the game. Au surely has much music ahead of her, and some it could very conceivably compete with Migrations for that designation. Compete with it, not eclipse it.

This is an ambitious work. It is Au's musical examination of why people leave their homelands and strike out for new territory, leaving so much behind. Migration is part of the saxophonist's history—a grandfather who left Malaysia for Canada, a grandmother who fled the Holocaust in Europe. Migrations speaks to Au's biracial identity, her identity as a Canadian and a child of immigrant parents. And it speaks eloquently,

Au's arrangements embrace Laila Biali's vocals—sung, spoken word or vocalese—with deft caresses. The words come from a variety of poetic sources: Emma LaRocque, Ruth Padel, Rae Marie Taylor, Duncan Mercredi, Chief Dan George, Langston Hughes and Wanda Coleman. It celebrates, with the loveliest of soft touches, all who have fled persecution, grinding poverty, war-torn homelands and genocides, and it reaches out a hand to those who have struggled with obtaining acceptance in new cultures, in finding a new home.

The music feels like a jazz/classical hybrid of the most accessible type. It at times brings to mind—on a smaller scale—Maria Schneider's masterpiece (one of them) Concert In The Garden (ArtistShare, 2004), which featured Luciana Souza's soaring vocals, and Schneider's flawless arrangements.