On this disc soloist Lori Freedman presents thirteen new improvised pieces for soprano and bass clarinets that were recorded at Radio-Canada’s Studio 12 in the spring of 2002. Imposing an unbridled rhythm on her clarinets, this alchemist-musician invites us into a surprising world in which the music is allowed to develop on its own, vibrant and captivating. Propelling, in the fervor of the moment — a very exact moment — music that abounds in textures both complex and refined, she constructs a non-linear sound universe that is very close to the bizarre revelations traveled in dreams, furiously original, studded with frenzied, fleeting flashes.

One of the most difficult tasks a composer can set for himself is to construct a solo work for a melodic, single line instrument. There are no chords and harmony to hide behind; there are no ensemble collaborators to engage in contrapuntal dialogue. The composer must endeavor to hold the listener’s interest with naught but the development of a single melodic line. For author and performer alike, this is some of the most exposed and naked music to present to the public — it is like walking the tightrope without a net beneath you. For an improviser like Lori Freedman, this must be even more so the case — not only is she up there alone, but she’s also trying to extemporize.

The Canadian clarinettist presents 13 improvised pieces here. Many of the works seem to have some affinity for the pointillistic and angular characteristics of avant-garde classical pieces like Stockhausen’s Amour (a 1976 set of pieces for solo clarinet). Others, like the bass clarinet solo Slappyspazzgruv, are imposing in an almost Eric Dolphy-esque grandeur, squalling and shredding a high melodic line almost to the point of disintegration. Freedman’s most distinguishing musical characteristic is her tendency to select a small cell of pitches as a central part of each piece (see ab). Rather than dealing with them in an ostinato/minimalist approach, she tends to use these fragments as a springboard for musical development, transforming seemingly limited pitch materials through transposition, inversion, registral displacement, and timbral effects such as microtones, rasps, and glissandi (the bending of pitches). From a minimal palette of material, Freedman creates a maximal amount of variety and invention.

Lori Freedman’s clarinets soar and scream with seagull-like insistence on this solo album of avian improvisation from the soprano clarinet and sonorous answers from the deep, bass clarinet. Lori is a master of both instruments and needs no other assistance in creating a fascinating, instrumental album of interest to fans of free jazz.

Lori Freedman’s clarinet soars and screams with seagull-like insistence on this solo album of avian improvisation from the soprano clarinet and sonorous answers from the deep, bass clarinet. Lori is a master of both instruments and needs no other assistance in creating a fascinating, instrumental album of interest to fans of free jazz.

Il y a très souvent, dans ce solo de clarinettes de Lori Freedman, un moment d’extinction, un moment où le souffle se déporte dans un quasi silence avant que ne se ranime la convulsion. Freedman lance des fusées, colères gardées et enfouies, qui n’auront d’autre choix que de surgir tôt ou tard. J’imagine Freedman exigeante, je l’entends trépigner (2B2), je l’imagine pliée en deux, offerte corps et âme à la clarinette. La clarinette, parlons-en; comment lui inventer un autre espace, bousculer sa grâce naturelle? Lori Freedrnan l’a trés bien compris, qui d’une soudaine douceur caressante (Mais où est donc car ni or) en passant par les spasmes délurés de Pootwear For a Fish et autres coups de bec bien sentis de Slappyspazzgruy, lui cherche un avenir, un sentier moins balisé. Parfois la voix de Lori s’en mêle (All Good Children), parfois ce sont les microtonalités de Joe Maneri que la clarinettiste évoque (Sky Pool, Uglybeautétu), mais toujours, imperturbable, la musicienne poursuit sa course. Celle-ci est belle, cabossée, rigoureuse, exigeante. Je ne m’en lasse décidément pas.

Lâchée lousse, littéralement. C’est vraiment l’image qui vient en tête en écoutant ce premier enregistrement de Lori Freedman chez Ambiances Magnétiques. Le disque démarre en trombe avec Roofless, une œuvre très intense durant laquelle la clarinettiste déchaînée évoque le jeu hachuré de stridences d’un John Zorn des grands soirs. À la clarinette basse ou à la clarinette en si bémol, la compositrice explore sans relâche les zones les moins convenues de la palette sonore disponible. la Torontoise maintenant établie à Montréal a connu la discipline des orchestres symphoniques, recevant même les éloges de John Corigliano après avoir interprété son Concerto pour clarinette. Elle apparait ici complètement débridée, laissant libre cours à son talent et à son imagination. Parce qu’il faut bien que ça sorte, à un moment donné.

Compositrice de talent, Lori Freedman a travaillé avec de nombreux musiciens ainsi que pour des productions théâtrales et au cinéma. Clarinettiste virtuose, elle est d’une créativité sans cesse renouvelée et nous présente ici treize nouvelles pièces improvisées. Les différentes textures sonores que l’on retrouve tout au long de cet album fascinant nous donnent l’impression qu’il met en vedette plusieurs interprètes alors qu’elle est bel et bien seule. Profondément original.

Tout droit débarquée de l’Ouest canadien, Lori Freedman ajoute des vitamines au catalogue Ambiances Magnétiques. Des couleurs d’automne, sauvages. La première pièce se veut un fougueux exercice de style qui refuse de vous laisser souffler. Les climats se dénouent dans les pièces suivantes, petit à petit, sur l’autel de l’improvisation. De l’impro solide, très souvent réalisée avec les hautes notes, mais hors de toute stridence. Tenus en haleine, nous voyageons entre pièces ‘calmes’ et pièces nées sous un ciel allumé. Madame Freedman, que l’on a notamment connue au sein du duo Queen Mab, sait captiver un auditoire, en nous maintenant toujours sur la brèche et en allant pétrir en notre for intérieur des ressources d’écoute inexplorées.

In September 2001, Queen Mab clarinettist Lori Freedman relocated to Montréal and quickly hooked up with the Ambiances Magnétiques crowd. The label released her first solo album in October 2002 (1999’s Huskless! on the Artifact label, featured other musicians on some tracks and consisted for the most part of contemporary compositions.) À un moment donné contains 13 improvisations on bass clarinet and B-flat clarinet. Her range of expression is commendable, encompassing Peter Brotzmann’s top-of-the-lungs flurries of notes and Wolfgang Fuchs’ delicately abstract dances. Without pinning her voice to gender, it must be said that Freedman brings a feminine essence to her instrument. Colour and melody win over sheer power or technique (which doesnt mean that she lacks anything in these categories). There is a swing and a tenderness in her playing that we dont find in her male counterparts, especially those from Europe. The album begins with Roofless, a riveting piece, the most high-energy number of the set. Her bass clarinet twists, screams and wails in your face, buck naked. Now that she has caught your attention, the improviser walks down softer roads, occasionally surfing the thin line between tone and texture as in the beautiful 2B2. Uglybeautétu is another powerful piece that evokes a primal scream, brutal yet essential. Sailor Bears sees Freedman stripping down her playing to focus on elusive notes squeezed out of her instrument’s highest register. This beautiful ending strengthens the intensity of the whole set. there is nothing easy about À un moment donné: the music relentlessly calls for your attention, stirring up your emotions in the process. It speaks to you: after the disc stops spinning you feel the need to grab an instrument and answer.

The title of this new CD of solo improvisations by clarinetist Lori Freedman translates as “In a Given Moment”. That aptly sums up the fearless, often troubling, sometimes playful, but ultimately ecstatic extemporizations of this extraordinary Canadian artist. With the enormous range of ‘extended’ sounds she draws from the bass and B-flat clarinets—singing and playing different pitches at the same time; playing only the mouthpiece; tapping percussively with fingers or mouth, and so on—one is tempted to say that the only sound that Freedman would be incapable of creating is one that has no meaning. The CD is on the independent Montréal label DAME; if unavailable through stores.