Plus qu’une trame de fond, la musique de Bach se fera entendre au-delà des enregistrements sur lesquels on pèse sur play. Érick d’Orion, figure de proue de l’art audio à Québec, y signe pour une première fois des compositions dédiées à un spectacle de danse contemporaine. Loin de se contenter d’un simple remixage, d’Orion s’est approprié Bach et l’a façonné comme on concasse la pierre sortie d’une carrière. Des créations originales au-dessus desquelles flotte le fantôme de Johann Sebastian.

Je n’ai pas assez voyagé, dans ma vie, pour savoir ce qu’est un bel aéroport, mais j’ai écouté assez de musiques exigentes pour affirmer que Beau comme un aéroport est un très beau disque. Le percussionniste Michel F Côté est de retour avec son projet le plus «musique actuelle», Mecha Fixes Clock, dans lequel on trouve cette fois Philippe Lauzier, Pierre-Yves Martel, Elwood Epps, Jean René, Guillaume Dostaler et Bernard Falaise — un beau mélange de (semi-)vieux routiers et de jeunes premiers. L’album propose une suite de courtes pièces qui constituent un excellent exemple de ce qu’est devenue la musique actuelle québécoise: fignolée, subtile, mais aussi pimpante, amusante, multiforme. Une écriture fine, qui entremêle les codes fixes et improvisables, et qui tient en haleine de A à Z. Bravo.

«Music of a different Mode», voilà de quoi relève la série Avant du label Mode. A son catalogue, déjà, deux conversations du percussionniste John Heward: Recessional (for Oliver Johnson) avec Steve Lacy (2003) et Voices: 10 Improvisations avec Joe McPhee (2006). Cette fois (septembre 2009), son partenaire n’aura pas eu à faire des kilomètres pour improviser avec lui. Habitant elle aussi Montréal, voici la clarinettiste Lori Freedman approchant Heward en voisine et même en «habituée».

C’est que les nombreux concerts donnés par Heward et Freedman (en compagnie de Barre Phillips, Joe McPhee, Sam Shalabi ou encore au sein du Ratchet Orchestra de Nicolas Caloia) ont encore rapproché les deux improvisateurs. Dressant un épatant état des lieux de leur relation, sept pièces montrent les deux musiciens en duo souvent remonté, et cherchant toujours.

De nouvelles sonorités à faire naître sur cymbales, caisses ou toms, par exemple: rumeurs nées de rapides coups de baguette, étouffements des retentissements, minutie d’une pratique qu’Heward semble parfois vouloir même «sommaire». D’airs attrapés à la volée par les clarinettes, aussi: versatile parce qu’inspirée, Freedman multiplie les propositions sensibles et perspicaces. Nées d’affinités évidentes et même concluantes, On No On est ainsi donc bien plus qu’un rapport de bon voisinage.

I caught Canadian clarinetist, Lori Freedman, on numerous occasions over the past decade: playing solo (at Guelph Fest), in duos (Queen Mab at Victo & with Joe McPhee at the Vision Fest), in the Queen Mab Trio (with Ig Hanneman) as well as with several members of the Ambiances Magnétiques collective. In September of this year (2013), Ms. Freedman was featured with Ensemble SuperMusique at Guelph and again shined in her solos and ensemble work. Drummer John Heward is based in Montreal and better known as a visual artist. Mr. Heward does have some fine duo and trio discs out with Steve Lacy, Joe Giardullo, Glenn Freeman, Joe McPhee, Tristan Honsinger, Jean Derome and others. There is something special about duo efforts that I dig: they often sound like an intimate conversation between two old friends who speak the same language and have had similar experiences. This disc does sound like that. There is a marvelous back and forth blend of energy and communication. The duo take their time and play quietly in the beginning, getting to know each other’s voice. This is not about fireworks but about a thoughtful balance of the elements. Lori’s clarinet playing is actually voice-like, she often sounds like a bird or some other creature who is describing their life and history. Mr. Heward seems to be playing a thumb piano on one of the improvisations and adding a certain quirkiness while Ms. Freedman switches to some serious bass clarinet sounds. This entire disc unfolds like a series of stories that are told between friends. There is nothing better than to curl up and read a good book and consider what is in store. Mode Records releases discs on their Avant series on rare occasion. This one is a definite gem.

Le projet mené par le percussionniste Michel F Côté fait généralement dans l’abstraction «actualiste» lente, et ce quatrième enregistrement ne fait pas exception; on est dans l’exploration de textures et le quasi-méditatif. L’ensemble de musiciens fait preuve d’une grande cohérence dans le dépouillement, chacun jouant la retenue, la mesure et la parcimonie dans un incessant ballet de rythmes hachurés. Avec Guillaume Dostaler (piano), Elwood Epps (trompette), Bernard Falaise (guitare), Philippe Lauzier (sax alto, clarinette basse), Pierre-Yves Martel (viole de gambe) et Jean René (alto), MFC dessine une musique en quelque sorte sans conséquence, pleine de crépitements et de frottis, et qui n’annonce rien de plus urgent qu’un après-midi dans un hamac.

Without question one of jazz’s most representative records is of a 1954 concert with Bop masters Dizzy Gillespie, Charlie Parker, Bud Powell, Charles Mingus and Max Roach in their only performance together. That the session was recorded in Toronto’s Massey Hall makes it distinctive as well as replaceable. But Jazz at Massey Hall isn’t the only instance of jazz history being made north of the border. Precisely because of gig opportunities for committed international improvisers discs recorded at Canadian gigs or festivals are an important part of the music’s fabric.

One of the most significant recent sessions recorded in similar circumstances is Anthony Braxton’s Echo Echo Mirror House. Featuring the composer’s septet, this 2011 premiere at the annual Festival International de Musique Actuelle from Victoriaville, Quebec rolls controlled cacophony and fragmented polyphony into an hour-long protoplasmic performance that sounds as if it’s emanating from two orchestras playing simultaneously, although there are only seven musicians on stage. Having long dispensed with the idea of solo and accompaniment, Braxton’s composition allows the two brass players, two percussionists, three string players plus the composer’s saxophones to enter and exit the sequences at will. Miraculously all the parts hang together. This situation is even more remarkable when you consider that several of the players double or triple, and always conversant with technology, all are equipped with iPods. The latter adds snatches of pre-recorded voices, vocal and instrumental music to the mix and use live processing to integrate sequences recorded during performance back into the composition. While this description may appear formidable, the music isn’t that difficult. The initial theme reappears at junctures, while at all times motifs, such as Mary Halvorson’s guitar twangs or Jay Rozen’s tuba blasts, provide the continuum. Meanwhile the pressurized polytonal narrative recedes enough in spots so that Braxton’s alto saxophone yelps, Taylor Ho Bynum’s wispy flugelhorn grace notes or the polyrhythmic strokes uniting Jessica Pavone’s viola and Aaron Siegel’s vibes are clearly audible. Mid-way through, as the tension dissipates a bit, cutting reed bites and ringing vibes separately presage the additional of iPod samples featuring female speaking voices and a male vocal chorus. Later, following subtle reprises of the theme, pre-recorded piano recital-like dynamics threaten to unduly soften the performance until Siegel’s whapping percussion, Bynum’s plunger work and Braxton’s strident sax lines, shatter any tendencies towards sweetness. With every musician and every iPod producing climatic timbres, and when it appears as if the rattling, staccato undulations can’t become any more overwrought, conductor Braxton abruptly ends the performance. The effect is as if a harrowing but pleasurable journey has been completed.