It’s widely thought that Garbarek’s strongest feature is his sound. His solo lines are polite and unambitious, but they are ever so carefully and precisely drawn. His sound is not actually unique – many others of his generation use a similar tone – but among his contemporaries, Garbarek is the most polished and least prolix. Like Miles, he has opted for those silences that speak volumes.
Guitarist David Torn prefaced his appearance, for his observer at least, with the release last year of his collaboration with drummer Geoffrey Gordon (Best Laid Plans, ECM 1284). As on that album, he used a plethora of effects to produce sweeping, washing chordal textures which he then ripped and gouged with single-note lines, often sounding like a cross between Bill Frisell and Allan Holdsworth. When he used his right hand to fret bass notes to complement his treble work, I thought of Tal Farlow – without the bebop.
Bassist Eberhard Weber, sonorous and deliberate on his last ECM album, played up more in Garbarek’s company, at one point employing a percussive two-handed tapping and slapping technique to enhance Michael Di Pasqua’s Afro-beat interlude.
For the most part, the ambience was typically sombre, melancholy and reflective. Occasionally, the melodies were folksy, and this impression was reinforced when Garbarek went rustic with a wooden flute. Ensemble-wise, the music was unmistakably Garbarek’s, consisting of ostensibly disparate layers rather than complementary figures.
The concert was organised by the irrepressible Anthony Wood, who could barely conceal his glee at the overfull house Garbarek had attracted. Wood will be filling the inevitable hiatus in the coverage of foreign modernists during the winter months. Look out for Wayne Shorter, Bobby McFerrin and many more.
