Rattle Records released these excellent albums a few weeks apart. They demonstrate that New Zealand’s improvising musicians are of the highest calibre. Both feature Hayden Chisholm, and the albums enrich each other as if by design, although recorded at opposite ends of the world.
Embers (Unwind)
This album is the fifth by Unwind, and their second as a trio. The Unwind albums have all been striking for their unadorned beauty, each feeling like a high point. Yet the inventiveness appears endless as they maintain their upward creative trajectory. Only the best musicians can react to each other with such nuance, their quietism filling any listening space.
Much rests on Hayden Chisholm’s alto saxophone sound, which is preternaturally pure. It’s as clean as Desmond or Konitz, yet utterly unique. It has softness, but a softness that conveys strength and a fluidity that affords him endless possibilities. When playing live, his impact on audiences is palpable. The flute-like alto sounds he creates speak with unusual clarity, creating a balm that the world needs. Feted internationally, known for his skilful use of micro-tonality and throat singing, all his strengths are evident on this album.
A distinctive sound like Chisholm’s requires just the right musicians. Norman Meehan and Paul Dyne are that. In part, because they have been bandmates for years, but it is more than familiarity. On bass, Dyne carries the weight effortlessly, while Meehan’s blues-infused minimalism says as much in between the spaces as in the moments when the hammer meets the wire. You can feel the weight of his ideas behind every note. Thoughtful musicians like this know best how to optimise opportunities. They react instinctively, and nothing is overthought.
The first number, ‘Around Again’, opens with Chisholm’s plaintive alto keening through the silence, then Meehan’s evocative gospel chords follow. It is an elegant piece and a lovely opening to an album brimming with gems. It exudes a gentle strength that is the hallmark of this band.
Another number, ‘Good Friday’, conjures subtle emotions. It captures a nostalgic essence, as if evoking a time long past. One we cannot fully recall – a reaction best described by the Japanese term ‘Sabi’. I have seldom heard a piece of Western music that captures that emotion as perfectly as this ballad. And everything in the album flows similarly. Meehan’s compositions are a joy.
During the album release concert, a particular moment had the audience gasping. After setting the shruti-board drone in motion, the alto began the intro. The pianist was ‘laying out’, listening intently, unaware that his foot had depressed a pedal. An ethereal resonance soon became evident as the harmonics of the alto reacted with the piano. Realising, Chisholm edged closer to the piano and worked with it. A sublime moment of happenstance that had musicians and audience smiling in delight.
It is our good fortune that Chisholm regularly returns to Aotearoa, the country of his birth. He has an extensive offshore discography, but when playing with old friends, there is a special Kiwi kind of synergy. A reminder that spiritual jazz lives here too. The album is available from Rattle Records in either digital or CD form. https://rattle.co.nz/catalogue/releases/embers
Release and Return (Chisholm/Crayford)
‘Release and Return’ is a duo album featuring Jonathan Crayford on piano and Hayden Chisholm on alto saxophone. It is another standout album, but in a different way from Unwind (reviewed above). It feels more exploratory and is not as consciously introspective. The album captures the joy of master musicians engaging without preconception. As a duo album, the sonorities can be explored more fully.
Both of these musicians are adept at working with harmonic resonances: Crayford, who prefers audiences to refrain from clapping until the decaying echoes of a final chord are exhausted, and Chisholm with his skillful use of microtonality.
Mature improvisers like these can draw on everything that they have experienced; it is what forms musical character. Both have travelled widely and listen with open minds to what other cultures or genres offer, be it classical, Carnatic, Spanish or Japanese traditions.
Crayford’s lovely ‘JC Ballad’ hints at Bach, and in Chisholm’s playing, the influence of Eastern musical traditions is evident, especially when he plays against a drone. In ‘Eldest Daughter’, the wistful opening tune (Crayford), the melody plays softly above, while Crayford’s right hand sounds at times like a feather stroking the strings of a Koto, his left hand, meanwhile, finds the pulse and swing.
Release and Return stirs deep emotional responses in the listener with its visceral lines, sometimes tender, sometimes raw, as the human condition is examined. This album speaks of freedom and the uncontrived nature of the music that makes it so.
The album can be purchased from Rattle Records or accessed in digital or CD format via Bandcamp. https://rattle.co.nz/catalogue/releases/release-and-return
The last time Nick Granville played in Auckland was 2014. A year prior to that he released his Rattle Jazz album ‘Refractions’ here At that time the CJC was located in an old downtown basement venue and that feels like a lifetime ago. Wellington is his home base and Wellington keeps Granville busy. He teaches, he gigs about town, he backs visiting artists, he plays in shows, he records, he tours and he is the featured guitarist in the Rodger Fox Big Band. The last time I saw him play was in Wellington, but that was a few years ago. Much water has passed under the bridge since then and his reputation has meantime grown apace. I have also kept an eye on his teaching clips, and his ongoing evolution as a musician is evident in these. Almost everything Granville plays is coloured by the blues in some way; that is his thing. On a mid-winter night, it is my thing as well.
With the exception of ‘Alone Together’ by Schwartz/Dietz, all compositions were Grenville’s. Some were from his Rattle Album, such as Tossed Salad & Scrambled Eggs or Blues For Les, while others were much newer. The compositions were all ear-grabbing and most appeared to reference geographical locations or old TV programs. ‘Funky New Orleans Groove Thing’ was certainly true to label; a rhythm-driven groove piece that generated white heat. With Stephen Thomas on the job, the New Orleans beat never sounded better. Thomas is an exceptional drummer.
A tune that I have heard Granville play previously is ‘Somewhere You’ve Been’. The title is a clever play on Wayne Shorter’s ‘Footprints’. The tune, although not a contrafact of Footprints is close enough to bring it to mind, It is nicely constructed and a good vehicle for a band to play off. For this gig Granville had wisely engaged old friends; Roger Manins, Oli Holland and Steven Thomas. Together on the bandstand, they represented genuine firepower and everyone dug deep when it came to delivering solos
‘Panacea’ is the third of Phil Broadhurst’s ‘dedication trilogy’ series and as fine as the earlier two albums were, this one stands out. Everything about it is superb, the individual performances, the ensemble playing, the recording quality, the cover art by Cameron Broadhurst and above all the compositions. Broadhurst, always a prolific composer has excelled himself here. Instead of theming the album around a particular influence or musician he has tapped into the subliminal forces guiding his creativity.
When he composed ‘Precious Metal’ he was at first unaware of the influence until a student pointed it out. It certainly speaks of Horace Silver but more importantly it conjures the essence of the man behind the music. The ensemble playing on this is simply sublime. An arranged head yields to Mike Booth on trumpet. He swiftly encapsulates the ethos of Silver in his delightfully moody solo. Broadhurst follows – expanding on the theme and signalling the direction, effectively setting the tune up for Roger Manins and Oli Holland who follow. There is a logical flow throughout and the piece works all the better because of it. I have heard it several times, but even on first hearing it sounded warmly familiar. That is the skill of good writing; evocation not imitation. 
For me the greatest joy was ‘Wheeler of Fortune’ his Kenny Wheeler tribute. So well realised was the mood that it might have been John Taylor playing a Wheeler composition. Again this is an extraordinary piece of writing and articulation, lovely because while capturing the style of these lost lamented greats it reminds us just what made them so dear to our hearts. In spite of being a piece for piano trio you can sense Wheeler reaching for those impossible high notes or mournfully smearing his over-running melancholic lines. It must have been tempting to use Booth’s flugel on this, but the implied sound is all the more powerful.
I look in the liner notes, no human voice shown – then it struck me. This is Watson, again understated but adding something to the piece which lifts it into the realm of musical magic – an exceptional and original musician. The album would be the poorer without his contributions. Subconscious influences shape every musicians work and it is right to celebrate those. Purging these influences is often a mistake. All creative people whether writers, poets, musicians or painters have these voices at their core. Improvising musicians stand on the shoulders of giants and it is fitting to celebrate that. Broadhurst has done so with due reverence, due acknowledgement but never sycophancy. This was his time to say thank you and his own original voice shone through the multitude of influences.
Booth sounds better each time I hear him. His undoubted strength lying in the way he reminds us of the great traditional trumpet players – especially those from the Hardbop era (like Blue Mitchell). A wonderful musician, a fine arranger and one who nicely compliments a saxophone modernist like Manins. Playing off the latter gives the edge. Manins is such an original that you hear something new and exciting each time he plays. I have observed before how well he plays off Broadhurst compositions. This says something about the skill of both men.
The word panacea is from the ancient Greek meaning ‘all healing’. The modern definition extends the concept beyond cure-all potion – applying it more to the realm of ideas. The album is truly a balm in our troubled times. I highly recommend it as a Christmas present to yourself or a loved one. It must surely be contender for next years Tui’s.
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