Vilnius Mama Jazz Festival
November 15-19, 2017 Introduction
Although a going concern since 2002, Vilnius Mama Jazz Festival
doesn't possess the high profile internationally that its longevity might suggest. Set amid the baroque beauty of the Lithuanian capital, in an assortment of venues, the festival has brought together performers from Europe, USA and beyond for the last fifteen years. The 2017 edition boasted two unique selling points. The first, a celebration of one of the founding fathers of Lithuanian jazz and the second, a Showcase Stage which offered artists, embracing a healthy proportion of Lithuanian groups, an opportunity to present themselves to festival promoters and critics from overseas (of which this writer was one) as well as local listeners.
Very much at ground zero of modern Lithuanian jazz stands the renowned Ganelin Trio
, founded in 1971, but which exploded into Western consciousness from behind the Iron Curtain of the Soviet Union in 1980 when Leo Feigin released Live In East Germany
on his Leo imprint, bearing the declaration that the musicians were not responsible for publishing the tapes. Critic Chris Kelsey described them as "arguably the world's greatest free jazz ensemble" of the period. Although the three constituent pillars comprising pianist Vyacheslav Ganelin
, drummer Vladimir Tarasov
and reedman Vladimir Chekasin
, hailed from discrete parts of Russia, it was in Lithuania that they came together. The group disbanded in 1987 when Ganelin emigrated to Israel, but Tarasov has remained a fixture on the Lithuanian scene and in 2017 he celebrated his 70th birthday. In his honor the festival programmed two contrasting ensembles for the prime Saturday evening concert. Jones Jones
First was the conjunction of three white-haired maestros in Jones Jones, with Tarasov joined the by the Americans bassist Mark Dresser
and saxophonist Larry Ochs
. Dresser will likely forever be known as part of the classic Anthony Braxton
Quartet, but has since collaborated with a veritable galaxy of stellar names, and convenes his own ensembles (heard lately on Sedimental You
(Clean Feed, 2017). Ochs meanwhile remains one quarter of the longstanding Rova Saxophone Quartet
, but is involved with an expanding range of projects, including his Sax and Drumming Core. Having originally got together in the Bay Area in 2006 their evident synergy lead to several European tours, one documented on The Moscow Concert
(Not Two, 2016) with other recordings in the can.
A conversational spurt from bass and drums launched their set, as Tarasov sprinkled his mallets around his extended kit. Ochs inserted short distinctively wiry tenor saxophone kernels into the discourse and they were away in an ebb and flow of changing dynamics. Though the tidal metaphor might suggest something preordained that was emphatically not the case. With so much experience at their fingertips, it was no surprise that they felt able to take their time to explore the blossoming of unpredictably dovetailing exchanges in which no one instrument predominated.
Neither Tarasov or Dresser accepted the usual allotted roles. Tarasov moved in abrupt bursts of activity, often letting the resonance ring out from exquisitely delicate interventions on an array of metallic implements, as well as more forceful snaps on tympani and kettle drum. Dresser's mastery manifest itself in the panoply of unusual timbres he drew from his bass, whether creating a rippling pizzicato with two hands at the neck of the fingerboard or bowing in terse strokes to conjure an increasingly buzzing legato. At one stage Dresser's vocally flexed slurs found a match in Ochs pitch bending tenor. An unapologetically abstract player in the post-Coltrane tradition, Ochs dug in without rhythmic inflection, mingling animal bleats, harsh yells and sudden altissimo shouts, in a responsive participative way which was the antithesis of showboating.
They extemporized two lengthy pieces which mesmerized the packed auditorium of the National Drama Theater, and prompted demands for an encore. Tarasov began with a rattling clip clop, but both Dresser and Ochs avoided against the meter. Undeterred the drummer switched to sticks to generate a free pulse, while the reedman issued guttural cries and Dresser pursued a contrasting but complimentary throb. After reaching a sustained crescendo they all stopped on a dime. But, in yet another instance of the trio's unpredictability, just when you thought that might be it, Tarasov reverted to shakers and the initial clip clop, until finally he too chose to halt. Vladimir Tarasov and the Lithuanian Art Orchestra