I’ve been listening to a lot of John Butcher’s music lately, his entire
repertoire. But when I heard this trio with Steve Beresford (piano and
objects) and Max Eastley (electro-acoustic monochord, friction drum,
percussion, piston flute), I was reminded of the discourse launched by
Wynton Marsalis and the late musician and critic Stanley Crouch, who
described free jazz as a dead end, whose experiments had damaged real jazz
because the musicians simply weren’t virtuosic enough to carry on the jazz
legacy. Especially Crouch claimed that free jazz was actually more European
new classical music, mixed with a few bits and pieces of Ellington, Monk,
and Bud Powell (he mentioned that as to Cecil Taylor’s music). He probably
wouldn’t have been able to relate to this trio’s music, but the musicians
wouldn’t have cared about his restrictive attitude either, because they
simply are not interested in how their music is labeled. A certain beat
might be foreign to them, but improvisation is not, because its spirit –
along with all kinds of sound explorations – defines this album, recorded on
September, 22nd in 2023 at Ferme-Asile in Sion/Switzerland, as part of the
first edition of the Biennale Son.
“Part 1“ is indeed an excursion in new sounds; advanced, angular ambient
music, so to say. Eastley’s flute hints a melody, the sounds from inside the
piano rumble away, Butcher’s distorted saxophone tries to find its way. The
music is more oriented towards the sounds of nature than jazz. However, when
jazz does shine through, it’s as a distant echo in a piano line or a
saxophone lick. And even then, only perhaps. In general, the use of silence
and contrasts seems to be more important: the counterpoint of glockenspiel
sounds and extreme bass noises, or the abrupt stopping of the briefly
accelerated tempo.
“Part 2“ in particular exudes this spirit even more: power, accentuation,
tumbling sequences of notes, dark monochrome drones, creaking noises,
birdsong. One gets the impression that each of the three is at peace with
himself, close to the others and yet distant at the same time. Changes in
tempo, a wide range of dynamics out of nowhere – these accompany the
progression of the music without becoming nervous or even affected. Max
Eastley seems to capture the babble of voices from the piano and saxophone,
especially when he lets his instrument (the aforementioned two-metre long
electroacoustic monochord arc, which he developed from an Aeolian harp in
the 1970s) howl like a monstrous animal in the middle section of the piece,
before the trio almost lapses into a small folkloric passage. In general,
the three comb through their material, freely and spontaneously, while at
the same time being sensitive to all clichés, especially those of free jazz
and new music. Throughout the set, it becomes increasingly clear that three
kindred spirits are throwing themselves into the creative process of
momentary music with enormous enthusiasm. Spurred on by bursts of energy,
formulated with a striking sound language and – of course – with the utmost
ability to listen to each other. In this trio, there is no single
effervescent source of initiative; it is a collective process of the highest
order that structures the discharges, the contrasts, the originality.
An Uncharted Eveningis full of seething, mercurial layers of sound
and highly differentiated ramifications. Perhaps the evening began
“uncharted,” but after an hour, the sonic research has progressed very far.
Jazz purists may not know what to make of it; for them, it will perhaps
always remain uncharted territory. For open ears, it’s a feast.
Steve Beresford, John Butcher, Max Eastley: An Uncharted Evening is
available as a download. You can listen to it and buy it here: