Put a pin anywhere in the lengthy discography of pianist Marilyn Crispell and you’ll stumble on a new facet, an unforeseen window into her turbulent, ever-evolving improvisational discourse. This is because Crispell retains the ability to surprise herself—as must have been the case during her first-ever playing encounter with Louis Moholo-Moholo, the iconic drummer and South African expatriate (now repatriated). The resulting duo session, Sibanye (We Are One), makes for a vibrant contrast with two recent trio efforts involving Crispell and a far-flung roster of colleagues. Bassist Barry Guy, founder of the London Jazz Composers Orchestra, enlists Crispell and drummer Paul Lytton for Phases of the Night while Ottawa bassist John Geggie offers Geggie Project, his leader debut, with Crispell and drummer Nick Fraser. […]

John Geggie, a frequent collaborator of pianist DD Jackson, also finds a satisfying rapport with Crispell on Geggie Project, splitting the program evenly between his original pieces and collective improvised tracks. The recorded sound is uncommonly fine, with Crispell’s bell-like single notes filling out the contours of the opening Credo. Thanks to her seasoned touch, Geggie’s compositions breathe exactly as they should, particularly the rubato ballad Across the Sky and the tempo-based, off-kilter Or Not, which recalls some of Crispell’s work with Paul Motian. Fraser steps up on the starkly contrapuntal View from the Bridge—essentially a drum feature—and pairs up with Crispell authoritatively on Weather Forecast, one of three duets (the others being Entre chien et loup and PH, for piano and bass). Here, as on Sibanye (We Are One) and Phases of the Night, Crispell acquits herself as one of our most adaptable and imaginative pianists, a team player par excellence.

Ensemble SuperMusique’s first album, Canevas, came along in 2004 with the feeling of something like a holler. Nous sommes super!, they seemed to shout from Quebec. “We’ve been here making excellent records for years! Pay attention!” That may not have been the intention behind the name the group chose for itself, but with a membership including the cream of the Ambiances Magnetiques collective, the claim to “supergroup” status was founded.

It was a strong record, a montage of 12 improvisations by various subgroups of the octet and two compositions by saxophonist and vocalist Joane Hétu. But at the same time it had a bit of the feeling of a label sampler: a broad variety of material representing different aspects of the collective and the label it runs. For their second release, however, the ante has been upped. Y’a du bruit dans ma cabane is an impressive and cohesive album. Stripped down to an all-star sextet (Hétu, Jean Derome, Diane Labrosse, Danielle Palardy Roger, Pierre Tanguay and Martin Tétreault), they present here four compositions rather than a hodgepodge assemblage. Hétu’s 8 moments brefs follows a smart, indeterminate graphic score, opening the disc by allowing the band to display chops and wits. Percussionist Roger’s title piece, at 20 minutes, the longest track here, is another guided improvisation with a score following the floorplan of a house. Electronics composer Labrosse offers a delicate yet wide-ranging sound-song about the passing of time, and Derome, saxophonist and outdoor enthusiast, leads the group in a rollicking, abbreviated version of his Canot-camping, a piece conceived as a geography of songs, scores and improvisational strategies to explore.

But more important than the composer credits is the relationships these six musicians have built up over the last couple of decades. Their challenging approaches to contemporary composition and structured improvisation rely on the communal spirit upon which the collective is built, and never on an Ambiances Magnetiques record has that been more evident than on Y’a du bruit dans ma cabane.

Tels des découvreurs, les membres de l’Ensemble SuperMusique se permettent l’inattendu et le révolutionnaire. Ils font en effet de leurs pièces de savants mélanges d’organique et de mécanique, de petits bijoux d’individualité et de collectif… Les sept membres sont passés maîtres dans l’art de l’improvisation et de la création spontanée mais savent aussi utiliser les avantages d’une concertation créatrice. Le résultat de leurs explorations est d’une singularité déconcertante et suscite une réflexion approfondie à l’auditeur.

Si les instrumentations hors du commun piquent votre intérêt, en voici une: saxo alto et clarinette basse, viole de gambe (si, si, vous avez bien lu), guitare acoustique et tables tournantes. Point de jazz ici, ni de musique baroque ou de folk et oubliez le d.j. de musique de fond. Outre Kim Myhr, un guitariste norvégien, le reste de la distribution de ce quartette fait partie de la faune des musiques bien actuelles et bien québécoises. Réalisé à la suite d’une prestation donnée au festival Suoni per il Popolo de l’an dernier, cet enregistrement consiste en une série d’explorations de timbres tous azimuts (dix au total) dans lesquelles les collaborateurs ont choisi de se soustraire à toutes les pratiques musicales habituelles. Naviguer dans de telles eaux troubles comporte sa part de risques, le plus pernicieux étant de ne pas savoir quand s’arrêter. Fort heureusement, ces quatre larrons ont évité le piège par la vertu de la concision (seules la première et la dernière plages dépassent les cinq minutes). À un peu plus de 36 minutes, cela semblerait plutôt court, mais voici un cas où les musiciens ont fait preuve de sagesse en suivant la règle «moins c’est mieux».

Joane Hétu, Diane Labrosse and Danielle Palardy Roger have been making music for over a decade in various groupings but retaining throughout the femme Québécois auteur atheistic. Hétu’s voice scats ruminatively in some forgotten language, dancing with the clatter and joust of Roger’s percussion. These two connect wonderfully as protagonists as Labrosse’s samples provide stately interventions and observations as varied as tamboura—like drones and bubbling water. There is great mystery in this music, as one feels the familiarity of being with the sounds of home and the outdoors yet trying to understand that strange radio station that seems to tune in and out. While this music may be described as soundscapes, it has too much of the insistent narrative of an improvisational through line to be a passive listen, and it is the narrative of three women that rises out of it all. This is a unique and sophisticated work.