John Surman: Flashpoints And Undercurrents (Cuneiform Rune 515/516)
1969 was a busy year for John Surman, a year in which he appeared on 11 recordings, released his eponymous debut solo album on Deram, recorded his second album How Many Clouds Can You See? with an all-star band, and later in the year Way Back When with a quintet, continued to perform and record with Mike Westbrook’s Concert Band, and played on John McLaughlin’s ground-breaking Extrapolation album. And in between all that, he found time to take an eight-piece British band to Hamburg in Germany to work with the Nordwestdeutscher Rundfunk jazz workshop, which paired German or in this case Austrian musicians with visiting Americans or Brits.
In 2011 Cuneiform released some of the music the band played, recorded for German TV probably on Thursday 17 April, while Flashpoints And Undercurrents presents a full concert recorded for radio on 18 April. The band is superb, with Surman on soprano and baritone saxes and bass clarinet, alongside Alan Skidmore, Ronnie Scott and Mike Osborne on saxophones, Malcolm Griffith and Erich Kleinschuster on trombones, Kenny Wheeler on trumpet and flugelhorn, Fritz Pauer on piano, Harry Miller on bass, and Alan Jackson on drums. Yet the music, while still fresh, has dated somewhat, despite the consistently magnificent solos.
The brassy big-band opener Jack Knife could have come from any big-band outing in the previous 20 years, and some of the arrangements are a bit predictable, with a strong emphasis on the massed brass and saxophone ranks. Given what Surman was about to record, this set feels like the end of an era, not a beginning. That said, Surman’s Undercurrent is adventurous in its unusual and unexpected combinations, Background cacophonous in its tumultuous charts. Beyond The Hill suggests a jazz-rock groove, while Surman’s flying soprano solo on Mayflower is just breathtaking. Any new music from Surman is always welcome, especially from such an important year in his career. And despite my comments, this uplifting set is important.
Emma Rawicz & Gwilym Simcock: Big Visit (ACT 8014-2)
Saxophonist Emma Rawicz first met pianist Gwilym Simcock when she was invited to play at his 40th birthday party at the Royal Academy, the two later performing a number of European gigs. Despite coming from different generations, they shared a love of Jarrett, and other ECM artists, as well as some specifically British performers, notably Norma Winstone.
Of the six pieces here, the pair contribute two each, with Stevie Wonder’s Visions and the standard You’ve Changed completing the set. Throughout, Rawicz, on tenor for all but two tracks, is predictably strong and forthright, yet wistful on the beautiful Visions, heartfelt on You’ve Changed, and playful on soprano in The Shape Of A New Sun, its title a quote from the novel Half Of A Yellow Sun by Nigerian writer Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Simcock is in commanding form, as eloquent and precise as ever.
Together, they exude confidence and enthusiasm, their conversational dialogue and communication of the highest quality. The freewheeling abandon both experienced while recording this fine set is reflected in its apt title, for this was indeed a Big Visit.
Gabriel Latchin: The Man I Love (Alys Jazz AJ1505)
The world’s jazz musicians – and not forgetting Ella, of course – have all tackled the Gershwin songbook, sometimes well, more often clichéd to tedium. So it takes a brave musician to grapple with this heritage once again, but then Gabriel Latchin is secure as one of the finest mainstream pianists of the day. On this, his fifth album, he confidently strolls through all the Gershwin familiars in company with Jeremy Brown on bass and Joe Farnsworth on drums.
On the opening Summertime – with nods to Debussy – he slowly states the famous theme but in a high register, initially turning the melody upside down to pique our curiosity before speeding up. How Long Has This Been Going On? is suitably tentative and unsure of the answer, gorgeous in its languid progress. It Ain’t Necessarily So is nicely disruptive, with a finely distinct bass accompaniment, while the samba version of S’Wonderful is perfectly titled for the entire set. And on it goes on, each of the 10 tracks little masterpieces of understatement and ingenuity. The Man I Love is unexpected in its rubato delays, Someone To Watch Over Me a caressing ballad, while the concluding I’ve Got Rhythm is given a few new twists and an Ahmad Jamal-inspired bassline. No show here, no grandstanding, just class.
Fred Hersch & Rondi Charleston: Suspended In Time (Resilience Music Alliance)
Fred Hersch has rarely performed with vocalists – excepting rare duo sets with Norma Winstone, Esperanza Spalding and a few others – so this seven-song cycle with lyrics written by Rondi Charleston and sung by Kate McGarry and Gabrielle Stravelli, ably supported by the Crosby String Quartet, is potentially welcome. Hersch, of course, needs no introduction, Charleston is an Emmy-winning television journalist, jazz vocalist and songwriter, while the Crosby crew previously worked with Hersch on 2021’s Breath By Breath trio album. Unfortunately, despite its lyrical quality, this is very much a cabaret set, Hersch a quiet and polite accompanist to vocals that are enunciated well beyond their meaning. In places a Sondheim outtake, elsewhere a cabaret recital, this outing is all very genteel, and not one of Hersch’s most memorable moments.
Fabienne Ambuehl: Thrive (Ubuntu Music UBU0166)
Swiss vocalist, pianist and composer Fabienne Ambuehl’s debut album is a spirited affair, with Matt Ridley on bass, Jon Scott on drums, and the excellent Tom Ollendorff on guitar, fellow guitarist Ant Law stepping in on one track. Her vocals float easily through the first few tracks, the various songs all by Ambuehl, the result of some personal introspection, of moving country, and being inspired by the healing power of nature.
To be honest, I preferred Ambuehl’s supple and intriguing piano playing to her singing – notably on the instrumental ballad Timeline and the gently funky Soft Days, distinguished by Ridley’s expressively mobile solo – as her vocals sometimes lack nuance and tone. That said, the closing title track is outstanding, perfectly matching her slowly evocative, unaccompanied piano solo with some beautifully sung, echoing vocals, words by D.H. Lawrence. Throughout, Ollendorff stands out, his expressive playing a luminous addition to the overall sound. All the compositions here are strong enough to allow the quartet to expand and explore, which makes this a more than rewarding set.
