By Don Phipps
Avishai Cohen’s Ashes to Gold is a collection of sensitive,
carefully crafted tone poems – tone poems which, even though created during
a time of war, encompass heroic and soaring passages of great beauty. There
is no anger – only melancholy, no regret – only resignation. This, and
pastoral note clusters that rise and swoop like an eagle above a distant
mountain peak.
Cohen says in the liner notes that he composed his five-movement title cut
after October 7. He says, “…by this point (the composition was being
written) in the full craziness of wartime. With rockets flying over my
head, alarms and sirens going off, and so on. Did all of this affect the
music? How could it not?”
On the album, Cohen (trumpet, flugelhorn, flute) is joined by Barak Mori
(bass), Ziv Ravitz (drums), and Yonathan Avishai (piano). In addition to
Cohen’s opus, the quartet “covers” Ravel’s “Adagio Assai,” a fascinating
choice, and a piece by Cohen’s daughter, Amalia – “The Seventh.”
On the first number, the band offers gently uplifting, sympathetic lines in
keeping with the mood of the music. For example, Mori’s deep bass bowing is
notable. Check out his work at the end of “Part I” of the title cut, where
the bass drone is dark and sonorous, or his effort beneath Cohen’s start on
“Part II.” And his bass plucking to open “Part III” recalls Charlie Haden
at his most intimate.
Whether Cohen is on flute or horn, his playing has a lovely pure forthright
tone, even when creating almost bugle-like phrases (as in the middle of
“Part I”). Cohen demonstrates his chops on many of the compositions – his
ability to use his horn to slide up and down assertively or to howl without
pinching the tone is remarkable. But it is the beauty of his expression
that truly stands out. Listen to his flugelhorn playing on “Part III,” or
his opening on the “Adagio Assai,” which is simultaneously sad and gentle
(Note: this work is the second movement of Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G
major, written in 1929-31 during the interlude between the World Wars). And
on “Part V,” the first of two masterpieces on this album, you can hear the
way his trumpet can reach out and in. On the other album
masterpiece, “The Seventh,” Cohen’s flugelhorn lines suggest a graceful
swan descending slowly over an undulating sunlit lake.
On piano, Avishai’s agile touch and expressive lines can change with sudden
ferocity, but more often his phrases add subtle pastels of feeling to the
scores. Check out his entry on “Part IV” to see how his bluesy
impressionism adds to the brief movement. Or his wandering start on “Part
5,” with its repetitive series that suggests snow coming down in a light
breeze, covering an open field in a drifting natural white blanket.
Ravitz generally confines himself to affect. His understated playing can be
heard on “Part II” towards the end, where his bass drum and soft taps
undergird the solemn mood of the number. There are times when his drumming
sounds like a distant march (as midway in “Part I”). And one can hear how
he incrementally integrates percussive effects into the mix of “Part V.”
Perhaps today the world needs albums like Ashes To Gold to
reorient and redirect its efforts toward peaceful resolution. If so, this
is certainly a welcome addition. Perhaps it is a reflection of what might
be or could be – and sadly – not what is.