The album is new, but the mystery is still the same. What planet does Roscoe Mitchell's music come from?
We are naturally aware that Roscoe is part of the dialectic of the African-American tradition and that he brings its most advanced features to fruition. But we still struggle to trace clear codes of reference, especially when the author keeps at a distance the explicit language that allows us to see the thread that connects him to jazz (the irony, his staccato themes, the rhythmic syncopations). After nearly fifty years, Roscoe Mitchell's work remains ineffable. d And it seems that even the community of American musicians of this aesthetic spectrum are fascinated by it but at the same time terrified and amazed. The only ones who possessed its formula and soul were called (or are called) Malachi Favors, Lester Bowie, Jospeh Jarman, Don Moye...
And if such group alchemy has—obviously—been never repeated, Mitchell's work as a composer and improviser continues to question and surprise. The recent Italian solo tour has once again thrilled the acolytes and made the neophytes' hair stand on end, such is the radicality, such the imperturbable candor of his perennial revolution.
This recent album is curious because it puts Mitchell alongside a veteran companion like the trumpeter Hugh Ragin and a young all-rounder like Tyshawn Sorey (tremendous drummer, but also ethereal composer and atonal pianist; someone who plays with Steve Coleman and analyzes Morton Feldman or Johannes Brahms). Albums of duets or trios of singular refinement and sonic power, where nothing is left to usual patterns and where the energy of the music arises from immediate, assertive paths; and it is fascinating, no one knows why, given the extreme difficulty of reading the grammar.
As always, Roscoe Mitchell shows up and checksmate, without mediating with the players. What are the principles of his aesthetics? Why do his saxophones chase those esoteric phrases, sometimes colorless, other times ferociously sharp, with that phonic flatness without vibrato, which is even more surprising than the apparent lack of formal direction? If anyone thinks that atonal music is always similar to itself, here they find in Roscoe Mitchell a 3D atonal player, one who neither rests nor bores for a moment.
Every track on this CD is full of ideas. Only the songs with the bells and small percussions (memory of the good years and disorienting common thread) act as a hinge or put the painting in a frame. Already "The Way Home" dislocates informal wandering phrasings, alto sax and piano, with Sorey who seems lost in stammers of strange vagueness; but Mitchell advances impetuously, attacks relentlessly, and the music finally overflows happily in an impetuous whirlpool. A spatial pointillism instead accompanies the long "Bells in the Air"; Hugh Ragin finally bursts out in "Scrunch," with chokes and gasps that bring back Lester Bowie, while Mitchell unleashes his trusty Selmer bass sax to rip the air and hold long, absurd notes, calling Sorey (now on drums!) to roll emphatically and to create a majestic climax.
The resolutions of each piece arrive naturally and masterfully. Even in "Cactus and a Rose," after a twisted phrase of sax and rumbling drums, the Mitchell-Sorey duo settles into intense, compelling explorations, with colors that pass from the mumbling to the luminescence of the sopranino. And then comes "Chant," an old sketch published in the legendary Wildflowers 5 (1977), a sort of deafening siren that Roscoe ascribed to his minimalist side, go figure! This version is full of variations, timbral transformations and is performed in a trio with a magnificent Ragin.
And so it goes until the end, with always amazing calls and responses, with Mitchell undaunted, Ragin wise and Sorey continuing to learn his lesson, preparing to take the chair soon. - AAJ Italy Staff
One thing that Fred Anderson had shown us in his last years was that the original AACM guys can still make vital, risk-taking music of real consequence; these guys who were at the forefront of jazz in the 60’s never retreated from their forward positions. Another bright example is Roscoe Mitchell, whose 1966 Sound LP introduced the whole Chicago-based free jazz movement on record. This iconoclastic saxophone legend continues to make record that earn praise and teach younger generations about avant-garde music by example (and he currently teaches by classroom at Mills College in Oakland, CA).
Mitchell continues his disposition for working with younger musicians on his next release, Duets WithTyshawn Sorey & Special Guest Hugh Ragin. As the title makes evident, Mitchell is going one-on-one with one of the brightest rising stars in multi-instrumentalist and drumming specialist Tyshawn Sorey, a master not only of rhythm but of percussive tones, something that Mitchell himself knows about firsthand. Hugh Ragin is a trumpeter whose stature falls too far below his achievements, but the recognized leaders in improvised music know full well he’s legit. Ragin’s association with Mitchell goes back to when he was a student of the older master in the late 70s and soon afterwards joined Mitchell’s ensemble before playing more extensively in David Murray’s, and he’s also toured with Anthony Braxton around that time. He’s since gone on to make some highly praised records of his own that somehow fell under the radar.
Thus, this is a tri-generational summit meeting of significant proportions.
Mitchell, as always, is as prone to great restraint as he is to unchecked impulsiveness, but in either mood there’s a great deal of emotion to be found. “The Way Home” is one of a couple of piano/sax duets with Sorey (who, incidentally, is an incredibly astute pianist). Mitchell’s expressions are so sad, he nearly makes his alto sax cry. Sorey, starting off with dispersed notes, gets choppy and fractured and Mitchell accordingly gets frisky. Eventually, there are no gaps between notes for either, and the gentle whimpers turn into full on wailing in an outpouring of raw sentiment.
“Scrunch” is a tour-de-force for all three: Ragin strains to blow notes out of trumpet as Sorey patters on a large hand drum. Ragin eventually does get out the notes in quick succession. Mitchell’s baritone lumbers through its notes slowly until stopping on a single note, creating a drone. Then the song breaks out, with Sorey rumbling around on kit and both horns make cacophony contrasted by the staccato of Ragin and the involved legato of Mitchell.
Ragin’s perfectly clean-toned trumpet sets the table for “Bells In The Air”‘s barren soundscape. Although Mitchell briefly joins him on wood flute to contemplate over Sorey’s discreet drums and Mitchell bell-toned percussion, it’s mostly Ragin’s show. His trumpet rations drawn out — sometimes weeping — notes over Sorey’s odd timbres. Expressive, but in an understated way.
Mitchell alone plays three short intermission pieces on chimes (“The Horn,” “Meadows,” “Windows with A View”), some contemplative moments that underscore the introspective frame of mind of the entire sessions, serving as a window into the complex but peaceful mind of its performer.
It’s a mind that has never stopped churning in about fifty years of a career of making creative music in his own way. Roscoe Mitchell is very much alive, very much relevant, well into the 21st century. - S. Victor Aaron
Legendary improviser Roscoe Mitchell teamed up with multi-instrumentalist and modern composer Tyshawn Sorey, with occasional assistance from fellow Art Ensemble of Chicago member Hugh Ragin, to create this 11-track album of meditative improvisations and slow-moving explorations of sound and space. Playing spare percussion as well as a bevy of saxophones, flutes, and woodwinds, Mitchell joins in with his collaborators to create a patient, fragmented sonic environment, full of floating and curious sounds. Occasional bursts of energetic sound are more playful than aggressive, though even the more brash and outgoing sounds have a particularly insular feel to them. - Fred Thomas
Tracks
01. The Horn (R. Mitchell)
02. The Way Home (R. Mitchell/T. Sorey)
03. Bells In The Air (R. Mitchell/T. Sorey/H. Ragin)
04. Out There (R. Mitchell)
05. Scrunch (R. Mitchell/T. Sorry/H. Ragin)
06. A Cactus And A Rose (R. Mitchell)
07. Chant (R. Mitchell)
08. Meadows (R. Mitchell)
09. A Game Of Catch (R. Mitchell/T. Sorey)
10. Waves (R. Mitchell/T. Sorey/H. Ragin)
11. Windows With A View (R. Mitchell/H. Ragin)
ROSCOE MITCHELL percussion, sax, flute
TYSHAWN SOREY piano, drums
HUGH RAGIN trumpet
Recorded August, 2012
Wide Hive Records – WH-0311