Une session de 40 minutes habitée par une belle intensité et quelques surprises, dont l’apparition d’un daxophone — Monsieur Délire, Québec
Without a hint of condescension, veteran British tenor saxophonist Evan Parker allies his skills with the talents of Torontonians bassist Wes Neal and drummer Joe Sorbara in this first-class essay in free improvisation. — The WholeNote, Canada
British saxophonist, Evan Parker is simply one of the world’s premier musical improvisers. He came to Toronto in February 2009 as a guest of the AIMToronto (Association of Improvising Musicians Toronto) Interface Series, and Parker’s exceptional trio during that event with Toronto’s Wes Neal (double bass) and Joe Sorbara (drums) was recorded by Barnyard’s Jean Martin.
- 1At Somewhere There (2009), 39:56
- Étiquette: Barnyard Records
- BR 0321 / 2011
- UCC 777320163820
- Durée totale: 39:53
- 126 mm × 141 mm × 6 mm
- 55 g
La presse en parle
Evan Parker excelle dans les rencontres ad hoc entre improvisateurs. At Somewhere There le présente dans un concert torontois en compagnie du bassiste Wes Neal et du percussionniste Joe Sorbara. Une session de 40 minutes habitée par une belle intensité et quelques surprises, dont l’apparition d’un daxophone si je ne m’abuse.
Without a hint of condescension, veteran British tenor saxophonist Evan Parker allies his skills with the talents of Torontonians bassist Wes Neal and drummer Joe Sorbara in this first-class essay in free improvisation. During the single track, recorded live at local performance space Somewhere There, rhythms, pitches and tones are mixed, matched, mulched and multiplied with a timbral blend that makes it seems as if the trio members have collaborated for years.
Balancing methodical plucks and brawny strums with a hint of sul tasto extensions, Neal marshals his strings to create an unremitting chromatic pulse. For his part, Sorbara pops, plucks, strikes and bounces rhythms on the sides and tops of his drums to tint and roughen the narrative. Delicate bell pings, rattling chains and, more frequently, the harsh application of a drum stick along a cymbal, mark transitions.
Meanwhile Parker, who has been involved in similar ad-hoc improvising since the mid-1960s, varies his output from intense flutter tonguing to glottal punctuation; and from flattement smears to cadenzas of bird-like twittering. Yet even as his inventive free-flowing timbres inflate, constrict or propel the performance in unexpected directions, he never loses its linear thread. A master of cooperation not dominance, even his intervals of nearly superhuman circular breathing are not challenges but an invitation to further group counterpoint. By the finale his occasional pan-tonal bent notes and nephritic explosions have become merely one element in this group sonic picture, separate but equal to the bassist’s double stopping or the drummer’s ruffs and rolls.