Kobe Van Cauwenberghe: Plays Anthony Braxton

Works by Anthony Braxton appear occasionally in the repertoire of others, but it is exceptional for entire albums to be devoted to them. That is especially true for some of his later works. But Belgian guitarist Kobe Van Cauwenberghe looks to rectify that. He already has one such outing under his belt—Ghost Trance Solos (ATD, 2020)—but his ambition propels him even further on Ghost Trance Septet Plays Anthony Braxton, where his assembled crew gets to grips with four of Braxton's knotty later pieces. The team comprises musicians accustomed to both contemporary new music and free improvisation, the perfect grounding to tackle Braxton's oeuvre.

Braxton's "Ghost Trance Music," which he performed from 1995 to 2012, evolved over that time from a non-repeating stream of regular notes to encompass ever greater complexity, but from the off it functioned as a framework within which any other pieces from his bountiful catalogue of works might be selected for inclusion by the participants. Several books have been written about Braxton's musical philosophy. Suffice it to say that his Ghost Trance system offers ample opportunities for individual expression. It might seem academic, but the effect is intoxicating.

While the Ghost Trance Septet may not be as accomplished as some of the Braxton outfits which first presented this material (and included such future luminaries as Steve Lehman, Mary Halvorson and Taylor Ho Bynum), they still make captivating, relentlessly interactive, music. All four pieces inhabit an emotionally and texturally kaleidoscopic soundworld, one which is restlessly changing and group-focused, without solos as such. It's rare for everyone to play at once after they depart from the initial minimalist unison themes. However the leader's guitar, along with the euphonium and trumpet of Niels Van Heertum, the violin of Anna Jalving, and percussion of Teun Verbruggen, are some of the most prominent performers, but everyone comes to the fore at some point during the 95-minute duration.

Each cut runs just shy of the 25-minute mark, during which time moods range from bristling polyphony to dreamy interweaving and much more. In their interpretations, the Septet brings out some unexpected facets from the charts, such as the playful melodic dimension of the hop, skip and jump of "Composition 255." One of the most arresting sequences here comes when the ensemble locks into the insistent riff of one of Braxton's classic post-bebop lines, "Composition 40f, in which" Cauwenberghe's guitar rages and thrashes. The curious listener can compare this and two of the other three renditions (although not "Composition 264" which is otherwise undocumented) with Braxton's own recorded versions, for further immersion in this singular universe. Unsurprisingly what they will find is that once they leave the unison themes, the trajectories are completely different.

In particular Cauwenberghe's Septet raids Braxton's back pages with abandon to insert some of his most distinctive pieces into the overall flow, not least the gloriously bravura march of "Composition 58" from Creative Music Orchestra 1976 (Arista, 1976), which is enthusiastically adopted during this reading of "Composition 358." Braxton's instructions for approaching his music, included in the illuminating liners by Timo Hoyer, contain such injunctions as "have fun," "take risks," "make mistakes and keep a sense of humor." The band embraces these exhortations wholeheartedly, such that what might become an exercise in over-reverential hands becomes a festival of creativity, joy and surprise.

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