CD Review: Matthew Shipp- The Art of the Improviser

Matthew Shipp - Art of the Improviser
(Thirsty Ear, CD Review by Rob Grundel)

The signature denseness of the opening chord proclaims that, yes, this is Matthew Shipp. Art of the Improviser is a two CD set recorded live with drummer Whit Dickey and bassist Michael Bisio. There is such a volume of ideas, across the length of the record, that the direction may veer three or four times within a single song. The inspired playing renders any perceptions of loftiness in the album's title misplaced.

There is one set per CD, one with the trio and the other solo. Each set is unbroken - it moves seamlessly from song to solo to song. Ordinarily, when given the choice, I lean toward the fuller sound but Matthew Shipp unfettered of sidemen (no matter how capable) is a phenomenon, albeit a polarising one. I would urge those listeners who are not convinced by the recording to seek out videos of his playing online (or even better, live). After seeing his motion, interaction, reaction to the moment, his playing makes absolute sense and is mesmerising.

His treats standards not as templates but merely as sparks to start a mostly unrecognisable fire. Take the A Train is utterly chaotic and Fly Me To The Moon is played like a rough fugue in Glenn Gouldian fashion.

Shipp's playing is messy and often loud. He uses the entire range of the keyboard (sometimes at once) and has a fondness for low-end chords. However you rate his technique - it has been forged by experience and is uncompromising.

Bisio’s 5 minute bass solo on the opener The New Fact is superb as well as being the quietest period on the record. The chorus on Wholetone, when it comes around, is always a refreshing resolution to the bending and twisting that precedes it; Module is a beautifully dark meditation; and the final unresolved moments of Patmos, also the final moments of the record, signal that Matthew Shipp's adventures in music will continue on.

This record is one of Shipp's best. It demands repeated listens, is filled with nuance and is a complete statement of where the pianist is artistically at this point in time.

Rob Grundel is a Londoner from Tasmania, and his Diminished Augmented blog is recommended.

Review: Matthew Shipp Trio

Matthew Shipp

Matthew Shipp Trio
(Vortex, Thursday 17 February 2011, review and drawing by Geoff Winston*)

Very, very ... jazz; that was the overriding impression. Shipp's trio walloped the packed Vortex with two richly rewarding, high energy sets which wove obliquely in and out of the standards repertoire. Given Shipp's recent well-publicised diatribe one is tempted to say, too, "almost very Jarrett", because it was as though he was intent on confounding expectations. Many were expecting a left-field and abstract proposition, and, frankly, we got a lovely reinterpretation of what mainstream could mean – close in proximity to the way Keith Jarrett can conceive his music and present it, but with a specifically Shipp cast to it.

Both sets were straight through, non-stop journeys in which Shipp built dense and demanding improvisations with a rhythm section with whom he shared a telepathic rapport. They've played on and off together for getting on for twenty years and this paid off - each was stretched - no coasting and no hesitation. From a quiet, yet angular piano passage, bassist Michael Bisio joined with restraint, then drummer Whit Dickey came in really tight and they took off in a well-meshed, almost mainstream flow - "almost" keeps cropping up, because, despite the homage to the repertoire, it was a consistently idiosyncratic take, which maintained a freshness, eschewing any hint of complacency.

Whit Dickey

Shipp's rocking, stroking arm action seems to lift complex, pattering runs from the keyboard, but also the convincingly military-style marching chords of "Johnny Comes Marching Home." Shipp would drop his head right down, spectacles off, Miles-style, in concentration, and Dickey, with torso virtually static, also adopted a head down posture as his arms did the work, whether quietly on cymbals or a powering tempo in synch with Bisio's physical, hands-on technique. Bisio hammered his bass so hard at one point that it raised the spectre of a forefinger flying across the room; his was such a varied way of working the bass - sometimes held at forty-five degrees as the bow both scraped and stroked the strings, at others he'd clasp it close, hunched over as he picked out the notes - reminiscent of David Izenzon's range with Ornette's trio.

Shipp drew the trio along, through textures and layers - dwelling for some time on 'Green Dolphin Street' and 'Tenderly' both just recognisable, yet unmistakeable, and - possibly - Coltrane's 'Spiritual', letting in reflections of Tyner, with whom Shipp shares affinities, then hints of Red Garland and Monk, even Dolo Coker.

This was a sophisticated set of reflections and explorations, with a serious dip into the jazz bag, and a sometimes playful selection - we had the marching song and a jig. It’s as though Shipp wanted to show how he could get to grips with the jazz legacy and reshape it in his own way. Different to Von Schlippenbach, for instance, whose spikey, nuanced approach exhibits more obvious light and shade, Shipp's concert was more outwardly ‘conventional’ if you took it at a superficial level, but very deeply worked and actually quite a major rethink of how to deal with the whole structure of the standards. It was quite an achievement. And very single-minded in a Trojan Horse kind of way!

By the end of the evening they were really moving assertively in a warmly flowing dialogue - more lava than river!

(* Images copyright Geoffrey Winston 2011, All Rights Reserved)

vortexjazz.co.uk

DVD Reviews: Matthew Shipp and Eric Frielander

DVD Review: Solos – The Jazz Sessions. Erik Friedlander and Matthew Shipp
(MVD 5075D [Shipp] MVD 5076D [Friedlander], Review by Tom Gray)


For an art form with such an obviously visual component, jazz can sometimes transfer awkwardly to the small screen. Whether it is because of sloppy production, stilted camera angles, or naff title screens, I rarely revisit a jazz DVD more than once. However, watching ‘Solos: The Jazz Sessions’ has proved to be a rather more engaging experience.

Originally filmed for Canadian TV in 39 parts (we can only dream of a British equivalent nowadays), this series of DVDs features solo performances from a superior roster of artists including Bill Frisell, Mark Turner and the late Andrew Hill. I watched two DVDs showcasing a couple of the most innovative American improvising musicians around today: cellist Erik Friedlander and pianist Matthew Shipp.

Both of these artists have a very physical approach towards their instruments, from Shipp’s wiry-armed, feline prodding in the bass register to Friedlander’s highly percussive slapping, strumming and scrapings. This aspect of their playing is captured well through a mix of panning shots and fixed camera angles, including some striking close-ups. As intrusive as this might sound, it doesn’t faze either artist, both of whom seem perfectly at ease in the elegantly lit surroundings of the Berkeley Church in Toronto.

With a great quality sound recording and some pithy artist interviews to boot, this series sets a high benchmark in how to make jazz DVDs. Recommended.

MVD Entertainment Group