East of the Sun is the first album in a history dating back to 1967 that Amsterdam’s brilliant ICP Orchestra has made without its co-founding pianist and composer Misha Mengelberg, who was forced to retire from music due to progressive dementia. Mengelberg was the heart-and-soul of the ensemble; he can’t be replaced. Yet at the same time, the group has always experienced personnel change and taken advantage of new members and shift ing dynamics. Sitting at the piano bench on East Of Th e Sun is Guus Janssen, an admirer of Mengelberg but a musician with his own voice, both as an improviser and a composer—he wrote the wildly careening “Rondo,” an intensely shape-shift ing jaunt that swings jubilantly between circus-like chaos and storming early jazz swing. Mengelberg’s long-time musical partner Han Bennink chose the repertoire for the album, including a number of themes by his old pal such as the brief opening hymn-like chant called “Psalm,” the previously unrecorded “Oorwurm” (Dutch for earwig), a martial ditty that lives up to its title, and “Der Jofelen Pels Slip.” But he also brings in pieces by some of the other excellent composers in the group including Ab Baars, Tristan Honsinger (showing off his typical whimsy on “Bolly Wolly,” which teeters on the edge of insanity) and Michael Moore, as well as fellow travelers like Maurice Horsthius and the late Sean Bergin, who wrote the Italianate swinger “Lavoro,” which pl ows straight into an ebullient version of “Moten Swing.” The album concludes with a raucous reading of the standard that gives the album its name. There may not be any new tactics or tacks on display on East Of The Sun, but the fact that ICP seems to be weathering the loss of its leader in such elegant, electric fashion is more than we need.
Album Review: East Of The Sun (2014) by Hugo Truyens →
BY HUGO TRUYENS, THE FREE JAZZ COLLECTIVE
Usually they just edit a live performance and slam it on cd, this time they gathered in the studio. One conspicuously absent. In person that is, the spirit of Misha Mengelberg infuses this record in the choice of cuts, and of course in the performance. They start with a Psalm, somewhat reminiscent of the way the voices always lag behind the organ in a Dutch reformed church, and of course on a wider view very true to the inimitable ICP credo: lag, bend and loiter. On many an occasion I witnessed them performing this snippet as a final encore, tongue firmly in cheek. It was called “Onbestemd Geneurie” then which can be translated as “Vague Humming” thereby missing the small pun of untuned that lies hidden within. It kind of summarizes much of the ICP attitude. When watches are synchronized we’re ready for the next two pieces : “Bleekgezicht” gives you a stately, plump march, “Oorwurm” is as the title promises a deceptively simple tune that is delivered in a rising and falling curve, and won’t leave you nevermore. An earwig. I would call these the prelude. We’re ready now for the main course.
And boy, do they deliver. They render the Mengelberg pieces and add some of their own, Baars, Moore and Honsinger showcasing their deft hand and slanted angles. Mengelberg once said to the public after one of their sprawling pieces had come to a thunderous climax to collapse again into an untidy heap: Nice little band, they are not. I’m not going to give you a blow by blow description of the many wonders awaiting you when you listen to this record. Only a broad overview as an ardent fan. The ICP Orchestra is easily, hands down, far out our most far flung band this side of the Milky Way. Because they are the rulers of controlled freedom, wanted spontaneity, instant composing.
They flow easily, leisurely flow over ripples, boulders are met headlong, spirits high. They weave and warp, dripping chords, clashing clouds. They punctuate and part the sound of sounds they sound. And sounds dissolve in smaller sounds and grieve and weigh and yield and soar and moan and coalesce and dissolve. They throw Duke Ellington at Count Basie and reassemble the pieces eagerly or not at all, it all depends. Tradition is what they feed on, they examine it, finding it curious and curiouser, until they unwind themselves in unchartered territory again and boldly proceed. Google the Jeff Wall photograph “A sudden gust of wind” and you’re looking at that same irreverent respect.
There’s a new piano player in the band, Guus Janssen, and he lays back, being very much there all the same, adding another paradox to the already abundant supply these gentlemen have in their fingertips. The record ends with Brooks Bowman’s “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” epitomizing their way: start with the dungheap and watch the orchid unfurl, fling it out there through the motions, end it with a bang. The music stops, follow the sound. Malpreciza zumadon.
Misha can sit back contentedly and enjoy his ice cream. He made this band into the verb they are.
Five stars to them just for existing. And for keeping the music of Sean Bergin alive, in a brilliant mashup of Lavoro with Moten Swing. Listen.
Album Review: Aan & Uit (2004) by Francis Davis →
THE DEEP DARK SECRET AND MIX-AND-MATCH OF THE DUTCH AVANT-GARDE
BY FRANCIS DAVIS, THE VILLAGE VOICE
Halfway through the ICP Orchestra's Aan & Uit, the 10-piece ensemble surges into "Barbaric," a swanky Hoagy Carmichael number he recorded with the Mills Hotsy Totsy Gang in 1929, and suddenly you get a fix on the ICP and maybe the entire Dutch avant-garde. Try to imagine free jazz emerging from 1920s Chicago speakeasies and the Paul Whiteman Orchestra and you've got an idea of the mix-and-match. Misha Mengelberg, the pianist who wrote most of the originals and presumably arranged "Barbaric," delights in finding dark corners in what used to be called light music. "ICP" originally stood for Instant Composer's Pool, but that was back in the '60s; there are still moments of what probably only sounds like scratch improv, but anyone hoping for either straight-ahead blowing or madcap, devilishly complex orchestral passages doesn't have long to wait. Ab Baars's dark, mewling tenor is prominently featured, and Mary Oliver's violin adds purr. But the real treat is hearing Mengelberg and drummer Han Bennink coming together to practice their rhythmic and harmonic geometry. There are plenty of Monk-influenced pianists, even if few are as individualist as Mengelberg. But can you name another drummer?
Album Review: MIHA (1997) by Dan Warburton
BY DAN WARBURTON
It was only available in a limited edition, and now it's sold out, but it was an essential little package for any record-collecting improv enthusiast. The 64 page hardback book is a treasure trove of information. Kees Stevens' complete discography for the Instant Composers Pool presents (intelligently) the recordings in chronological order-from ICP 001, the "New Acoustic Swing Duo" of 1967 (Han Bennink, percussion, and Willem Breuker, reeds) up to and including last summer's "The Heron" (Tobias Delius) [ICP 033]-and includes various related ICP projects on other labels [FMP, Entr'acte]. Kevin Whitehead's accompanying essay provides a clear and affectionate history of the label, and if your Dutch is up to it, there are several assorted old press clippings and articles to pore over. The book also includes numerous photographs, not only of Bennink and Mengelberg on and off stage, but also of the front and back covers of all the released ICP albums, most of them splendid original designs by Bennink himself. If you can still track down a copy, don't hesitate. In the meantime, the CD "MiHa" is (I understand) still available separately.
Although the New Acoustic Swing Duo album was a Bennink/Breuker project, it was pianist and composer Misha Mengelberg who came up with the name "Instant Composers Pool," and over the years Mengelberg has remained the principal guiding force behind the organization. Breuker and Mengelberg, despite strong mutual respect for each other, never got along well enough to record together for ICP, and Breuker eventually split in 1973 to form the Willem Breuker Kollektief (though relations have remained cordial enough for BVHaast, founded by Breuker to promote and distribute his work, to handle the ICP catalogue). Over the years Mengelberg gradually assembled the ICP Orchestra (whose regular line-up includes Ab Baars, Michael Moore, Ernst Reijseger, and Wolter Wierbos, along with frequent guest musicians such as Steve Lacy and George Lewis), all the while continuing his duo concerts with Han Bennink. ICP 031 is the latest chapter in the Mengelberg/Bennink saga, consisting of two live performances from 1992 (Leeuwarden) and 1997 (Amsterdam's Bimhuis).Rarely have we seen such intense and long-lasting musical partnerships as Misha and Han; together they played with the legendary Eric Dolphy on the "Last Date" album in 1964-by which time they'd already been working together for three years-and though Bennink gigged with anybody he could in the sixties, from Sonny Rollins to Marion Brown, while Mengelberg was "as happy to think about music as play it," they have continued to play and record together both as a duo and as the heart of the ICP Orchestra rhythm section ever since. Quite apart from the extraordinary music they make, their appearance and antics onstage are unforgettable. Bennink, absurdly athletic and dangerously healthy-looking-with his close-cropped hair and khaki shorts he resembles the kind of demented scout leader who would lead unruly teenagers through a minefield-regularly breaks several pairs of sticks per concert through sheer exuberance, and has been known to play anything (he attacks walls, potted plants, empty glasses at the bar, and even once attempted to saw the stage in half). In total contrast, Mengelberg, eternally chain-smoking and slightly hunch-backed-tending to look far older than his sixty-three years-huddles over the piano stool at a rakish angle, plunking away as if he had never seen the instrument in his life (although he knows damn well what he's doing). The humorous element is not just visual though, but deeply rooted in the musical interplay between the two musicians; to quote Eugene Chadbourne:
"It's a real gift to be able to create comedy. Han Bennink is a genius. One of my favorite things is that something very serious and very funny is going on at the same time. It totally confuses the audience-they don't know if you're trying to be funny or serious, when in fact you're both."
This CD is a fine example of that-there are moments of high comedy, aggression, repose, and, yes, boredom.. for where does it say that everything you do has to be stupendously thrilling? Since when was life like that? Says Mengelberg; "I like puzzles in an open form, like chess or a game of bridge. Something with a development that can lead to something... or not! In an open chess game there can be attacks that are to no avail, events that are going wrong but the opponent makes a mistake, or somebody makes a brilliant move but falters and is mated in two. So no little tricks.. No first, second theme. No development section, no reprise. There are no simple calculations for life."Here's to the next thirty years.