Erik Friedlander's Chimera
The Watchman
TZADIK TZ107 CD
Another installment in John Zorn's austerely titled 'Radical Jewish Culture' series, The Watchman is an instrumental album of compositions which invites multiple listenings, each more rewarding than the previous. What first time round implies a relatively traditional approach to instrumentation gradually reveals itself as an exercise in subtleties -- a complex combination of atmospheric depth, slight dissonance and a semi-improvised feel. The 'radical' nature of the quartet is to be found in the interplay between Erik Friedlander's cello and the low-register grate of Drew Gress's bass. The slow build of harmonic buzz/drone, brought on by the sawing overtones of the strings, first suggests the same black backdrop as the period interpretations of medieval music by groups such as Sinfonye or even The Third Ear Band. It's the occasional break-free bouts of clarinet overblowing and dramatic soloing which confuse the issue, producing the effect of a kind of free-floating jazz quartet. In this context, the instruments' role is almost cantorial, as if to urge the choir to song; perhaps a better comparison would be with Gaelic psalm singing in which the choir leader chants a line and the individual members of the choir repeat it in their own time and with their own interpretation. While the form of The Watchman is more contained and its possibilities evidently finite, there is a similar devotional air and an implication that encouraging individual expression within group playing is comparable to setting light to a row of fireworks and waiting to see which go off when. However, there are also great moments of silence-awareness, where the clarinets are given time to fizzle out and darkness hangs before the slightest hint of cello reappears. An oasis of calm amid the drama of note-flurries and grind, and a good place to be.
 |
DAVID KEENAN |