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Blackwater Bridge
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| REVIEW | SOURCE | REVIEWER | |
| Gary Hassay and Anne LeBaron perform a series of intimate and unpredictable duets on Blackwater Bridge. LeBaron's extended techniques on harp yield a unique repertory of buzzes, hisses, and drones along with the more usual strums and plucking sounds, an imaginative complement to Hassay's fervent yet controlled alto saxophone. Very intriguing and rewarding listening. These generally quiet free improvisations are sensitively realized and oddly intriguing. | IAJRC Journal |
Stuart Kremsky |
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| Hassay and LeBaron clearly enjoy a challenge, dancing rhythmically through their alto saxophone and harp duet session, Anne working the beat around with her grip of steel. It is surprising how well this combination works, though there is a very spooky quality to some of this music. LeBaron's techniques such as bow on harp mesmerize, while Hassay's alto revels in an atmosphere far removed from conventional jazz accompaniament. The harp's sound carries as much punch as piano, though LeBaron spends a minimum amount of time evoking thnder, altering the harp's traditional tones with metal slides, electronics, and unconventional techniques. Hassay puts his own spin on this by adopting some playhouse tones to heckle the infrequent moments of "proper" harp play. LeBaron likes to experiment and some of this gets loopy, her supple lines mined with adventurous effects, at times sounding like a wire coat hanger hitting a shopping cart. They sense where each other is going so well, it seems telepathic. The contrast between the two instruments could easily create a feeling of collision but here is a happy example of apples and oranges fitting together quite nicely. | Coda |
Steve Vickery |
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| Here is, to my way, one of the masterpiece of Drimala Records: it is about a duet constituted of Gary Hassay (alto saxophone) and Anne LeBaron (harp, percussion, Bertoia sound sculpture). The former worked since 19979 wiht Fred Frith, Andrew Cyrille, Peter Brotzmann, Tom Cora, Paul Rodgers, Keshaven Maslak or "Borbetomagas" and developed a very nice alto sound, veil harsh and vibrating, rough, between Gianni Gebbia, Max Nagl, and Evan Parker. The other studies with Gyorgy Ligeti, played with Muhal Richard Abrams, Paul Lovens, Ernst Reijeger, Derek Bailey...and specialized herself in electronic exploration of the harp and prepared harp. Here, her instrument resonates moreover like no other: time to time Koto or disacorded guitar or even almost a piano. Violent or whispered, dry/sharp or mature, these improvisations are elaborate, all along tracks, a tender, intimate and poignant free. | ImproJazz |
Marc Sarrazy |
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| Making a list of dedicated harpists
who excel in -- or even play -- free form music doesn't take too long. In improvised
music, for instance, there's Briton Rhodri Davies and American Zeena Parkins and ...
Davies and Parkins. In jazz there was Dorothy Ashby and Alice Coltrane and, ...
unsurprisingly, Ashby and Coltrane. However Blackwater Bridge, an exacting duo disc featuring alto saxophonist Gary Hassay, definitely adds harpist Anne LeBaron to that stellar company. Considering the unadorned musical circumstances here, her work may be even more noteworthy. After all, solo saxophone doesn't provide much back up. LeBaron, who is also a composer and educator in California, has been experimenting with her axe since the 1970s and has played and recorded with other visionaries like pianist Muhal Richard Abrams and guitarist Derek Bailey. Hassay, from Allentown, Penn., has been involved in free music since the late 1970s and collaborated with a host of like-minded musicians, most notably as part of the Ye Ren trio with bassist William Parker and percussionist Toshi Makihara. Yet a two-person session like this throws a musicians' talents, skills and weaknesses in even bolder relief, with only one partner upon whom to rely. It's definitely Anne LeBaron's show all the way. While the alto saxophonist often moves between energy tones and silences, using chirps and double tonguing, he seems to be repeating the same pattern in the background. It's one part 1960s Energy Music, one part hushed BritImprov, with both parts monochromic. Meanwhile LeBaron displays a lot more than the usual glissandos we associate with harps. She buzzes like an electric guitar, uses her lowest strings for string bass ostinato, clawhammers out a few banjo notes and produces tones as harsh as nails scratching across a blackboard. Perhaps it's the use of sound sculpture that allows her to create this way. Certainly on "Betty's Place" at points she seems to be ringing bells, exploring a prepared piano, and -- if it's possible -- even bouncing objects off her strings. Because of this challenge as well, Hassay is roused from his usual adagio pace up to andante for a few minutes. However on "FRISSON" when what appears to be the sounds of a squirrel scurries up and down the strings are succeeded by a real dance melody from the harp, he seems to squelch the excitement with a prolonged renal honk. Most illustrative is the longest and most abstract track "G, K and the Lady Gray," which goes from barely audible to high energy in slightly more than 11 minutes. As the harpist plucks strings and crashes cymbals, Hassay breathes out chirping reverberated grace notes, often squeaking in hummingbird range. After a passage where it literally appears as if she's creating delicate court music from a Chinese guzheng, LeBaron begins double timing, strumming away as if she had a folksy 12-string guitar. Hassay counters with a loud heavy vibrato as the sound field subsides to mere colored noises and offhanded plucks. Elsewhere, LeBaron works up a chorus of multi-string strums as if she was an entire Mexican Mariachi band, saws across her string as if she was powerfully attacking a jazz bass, and comps behind the saxist's note holding and reverberated honks the way a hard bop pianist feeds the soloist. Despite the many-stringed instrument's reputation, LeBaron has no fear of diatonic discord on these 10 tunes and that's what makes the CD so fascinating. |
Ken Waxman |
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| The soft, warm tones of Anne
LeBaron's harp wash over the gritty spurts streaming from Gary Hassay's alto saxophone,
resulting in an open, liberated, and very challenging duet of improvised music. Hassay
puts a slight biting edge into his alto voice. He slings high-pitched spears of mercury
into the air, but he also massages his style by coaxing elastic, airy whispers from his
horn in caressed fashion. His output is met with the rising and ringing pebbles of purity
coming off LeBaron's harp, forming crystallized gems of tonality having both tenderness
and strength. As with a rain cloud, the united sound is released from the atmosphere and
falls gently to the ground. Hassay is very expressive on his instrument. He builds short
phrases into elongated runs that, while being totally free statements of spontaneity, have
a touch of lyricism in them. His thought pattern leans toward the introspective, giving
his music character and depth. While certainly not a traditional jazz instrument, the harp has extended potential in the hands of LeBaron. She turns it into an improvising tool, plucking out aural jewels that mold into the framework of Hassay's playing. LeBaron utilizes the full range of the instrument, dropping the tonality down to its lowest point before climbing back to the summit of high-register bell tones. She takes the harp out of the medieval era and brings it smartly into the 21st century with adept use of electronics, by which she is able to shape and augment the notes in extremely understated ways. LeBaron emphasizes, underscores, and punctuates Hassay's improvisations and then builds her solos into intriguing flights of subtle delight. She ekes out gentle droplets of dew that evolve into cascading streams of instantly composed mystery. Sonically, the harp and alto form a hesitant, pensive union that grows into a perfect marriage of contrasting imagery. LeBaron etches the carving with fluted rings of gold while Hassay explores uncharted terrain with probing determination. This music is both spiritual and earthy, making it a work of substance to be pondered but most of all enjoyed. |
One Final Note |
Frank Rubolino |
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| Blackwater Bridge improvisations take place in
the boundless territory that is located between a country named jazz and another named
contemporary classical music. Saxophonist Garry Hassay comes from jazz, Anne Le Baron,
harpist and renowned composer lives in the second country. Their gathering was effective
just because the composer of "Rite of The Black Sun" is also an accomplished
improviser and Hassay a musician fascinated with musical complexity that happens when one
dominates the art of creating music in the moment, ensuring that this complexity does not
live exclusively inside the world of musical writing, of which collaborations with Andrew
Cyrille, William Parker, Wadada Leo Smith, Butch Morris, Borbetomagus or Fred Frith are
eloquent examples. The saxophone/harp formula (with LeBaron also playing percussion and manipulating a sound sculpture by Harry Bertoia) is pretty uncommon and has opened new ways to this recording: apart from exoticisms, one can experience the wonderful small sounds Anne LeBaron makes out of her instrument and the intertwining of the snake-like quality of Hassay´s saxophone, who is also the leader of Dr. Vincent Sakeeda´s Attack Ensemble. Heterodoxy in as far as tonality is concerned, infidelity with respect to the dogmas that conduct the extended use of the musical vocabularies, idealistically uncompromised, "with the authority of Pollock and the subtlety of Dalí" as Scott Hreha writes in his notes, showing the strong influence of plastic arts in this type of music. What we find here is one of the best records that we can listen to these days in the area of musical improvisation. |
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| The concept of bringing noted new music harpist
Anne LeBaron together with avant garde saxophonist Gary Hassay would seem to be an
attractive one. After all, the under-recorded and eclectic LeBaron has spanned the
spectrum of freely improvised music, from modern classical to jazz, while the little known
Hassay has distinguished himself as an innovative and creative performer. Somehow, though, these ten duo improvisations are something of a disappointment, as the two seem very much to be playing alongside rather than with one another. There are few synergistic moments when the two are on the same wavelength, although in fairness the collective expressive textures sometimes seduce with a surprising resonance. Hassay is the dominant voice, his lyrical alto riding gently and occasionally erupting, while LeBaron reacts or goes her own way. The harpist seduces a wealth of colors, a difficult task to be sure, resulting in subtle expressions that purr and fade into an impressionistic landscape. She infuses the instrument with a percussive element to complement its more traditional role. She eschews gimmickry, with the strings filling the role of bass and piano or vibes, but mostly simply adding a unique trajectory that spreads the sounds in several-directions. There is a surprising peacefulness to the whole, as Hassay focuses on slowly unwinding lines, often in mid-tempo, leading to a gradually unfolding process that incorporates good use of silence and quiet. 2 1/2 Stars (good, but inconsistent) |
Steven Loewy |
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| There has to be a reason why so many of the
biggest names in free jazz and improvisation — including Ornette Coleman, Anthony
Braxton, Archie Shepp, Peter Brötzmann, Evan Parker, David S. Ware and many others —
are saxophonists. It’s probably partially a coincidence, but I’m guessing the
high number of famous saxophonists also has something to do with the saxophone itself:
because of its timbre and the effort required to even make a noise on it, the saxophone
commands attention as soon as it’s played. Saxophones (with the possible exception of
the baritone sax, which isn’t used in free jazz nearly as often as the alto or tenor)
don’t work very well as background instruments; they’re too flamboyant sounding.
So this CD, in which saxophonist Gary Hassay is accompanied only by the wispy glissandi of
Anne LeBaron’s harp, is a curious one. The album is ultimately a success, however,
due to the two players’ charming search for common ground. LeBaron knows that without a rhythm section backing her, she’d sound a bit ridiculous attacking her harp the way Alice Coltrane did, for example, on 1971’s Universal Consciousness. On the second half of the album, LeBaron steps out a bit—she offers thudding, low-end stomps at the beginning of “Never Told Tales,” and on “FRISSON,” she plays in startling start-stop blurts that feel a bit like going over a speed bump too fast. But for the most part, LeBaron stays pretty calm, plucking pensively at thin chords and scraping the ridges of her strings to create eerie scratching sounds. Hassay’s saxophone, then, is necessarily the focal point, despite Hassay’s attempts to give LeBaron room to move. Hassay eschews the innovations in extended technique developed by Braxton, Albert Ayler and others, playing with a full, straightforward tone that wouldn’t raise eyebrows in a bop combo. Like Fred Anderson and late-era John Coltrane, though, his approaches to harmony and rhythm are far from conventional. Here, he sounds purposefully uncertain, playing tentative, slurred phrases as he tries to fit into the tapestry woven by LeBaron. Despite their valiant attempts, though, Hassay and LeBaron’s instruments are too different for their work as a duo to really gel—Blackwater Bridge shows two players looking for and never quite finding each other. Hassay’s saxophone is a bit too heavy to sound as one with LeBaron’s harp. Paradoxically, though, it succeeds almost because of that fact: Hassay and LeBaron are each capable of sustaining interest on their own, and it’s strangely touching to hear them straining to find common ground. And when the music does cohere, like in the flying arpeggios at the beginning of “Memoire Involontaire,” it highlights the difficulty of Hassay and LeBaron’s task — making their musical partnership work. |
Charlie Wilmouth |
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| We've reviewed a couple of Gary's CD's before
(issues #45 and #37); this one with Anne's harp, sound sculpture & percussion takes it
to the next level. Gary's alto interacts most intimately with LeBaron's sound paintings
& sketches; the harp sounds against the saxophone make it an almost mystical
experience. They are both to be complimented on their sensitivity to the sounds - it takes
a great deal of skill and talent to play without playing over the other player in this
kind of improvisation. The "bridge" theme is clear, even without reading the liners... this isn't a traditional pairing (harp/saxophone) for improvisation, you can hear (immediately) that this duo are out to do more than splash sounds on the canvas... they clearly intend to engage themselves and the listener in an adventure of exploration... go where others have not been before. This is not "easy" listening... doubtful you'll hear it anytime soon (probably never) on your "smooth jazz" station... but it is worth the concentration. One of the most intriguing parts (in the overall) of "Blackwater" is that neither artist uses their instrument to blot out the other's excursion into uncharted territory; they listen to each other, & to the universe, if you will. If you have never listened to difficult music before, this IS the album to start with... by the time you finish listening, you will have definitely "crossed over" into new awareness (of the possibilities). This gets our MOST HIGHLY RECOMMENDED, as well as the "PICK" of this issue for "best exploratory improvisation"! |
Improvijazzation Nation, Issue #57 |
Dick Metcalf | |
