Tag Archives: Allan Browne

A FUTURE WITHOUT AL BROWNE IS UNTHINKABLE YET

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

AFTER days of sunshine uncharacteristic to British Columbia, Canada, it is a grey day in Prince Rupert. That seems appropriate as I feel a deep sense of loss, sharing at a distance what many are feeling — a sense of disbelief that Allan Browne is no longer with us.

He was supposed to be the host for the final night at Bennetts Lane. He was supposed to carry on the tradition of Monday nights, at Uptown. He was supposed to always be there, to bring us warmth and laughter and the love of music that welled deep within him and emerged so often in that heartfelt endorsement from the drum kit, “yeaaaaahh”.

Others have written tributes to Al in the past few days that have moved us and brought tears and a realisation of what he meant to so many. His presence — and now absence — has been in my mind so much since I heard the news. Not unexpected, it may be, as Adrian Jackson observed, yet hard to accept all the same.

Allan once wrote of his close friend and fellow musician, the late bassist Gary Costello, “I still can’t get used to the past tense, a future without Gaz is unthinkable yet. We both loved e.e.cummings …” Well, I’m certain that many of us will be thinking that a future without Al Browne is unthinkable yet, and that we won’t get used to talking about him in the past tense.

This was supposed to be a review of this year’s Melbourne International Jazz Festival, which would have been hard enough after the wrench from that bustle of gigs and the imminent closure of Bennetts Lane into the mode of international travel. Now it must be about Al Browne, whose quintet brought us a new work, Ithaca Bound, inspired by Homer’s Odyssey. Allan’s odyssey has ended, but his journey will remain with us.

The recent loss of Ornette Coleman is also deeply felt. His great contribution to improvised music will also sustain us long into the future.

It feels as if the jazz scene in Melbourne is in a period of major change. Bennetts Lane is closing, but, as Marc Hannaford points out, there are many outlets for jazz in the city. Also, new venues will arise from the ashes of Bennetts — they will have to develop their own character and characters over time.

Cuts to the ABC meant that Gerry Koster, host of Jazz Up Late, had to move on. Let’s hope he can bring his breadth of knowledge and taste for adventure into something new, because the demise of his program was a significant loss. As was the separation of Adrian Jackson from the programming of Stonnington’s festival of Australian jazz. The new arrangement may have soul, but I am yet to be convinced that it has that rare ability to bring us exciting and unexpected juxtapositions of players in what has been one of my favourite festivals.

Funding shortfalls have also curbed the nurturing and mentoring role of Martin Jackson’s Melbourne Jazz Cooperative. It will have a new home at Sonny’s Uptown Jazz Café, which is great, but it may be necessary to mount a public campaign to gain more financial backing for this vital cog in the Melbourne jazz machine.

But we move on. Jazz is, after all, about improvisation. The musicians make decisions on the run every time they play, and we mostly love the results. What will the rest of this year and the next bring to the Melbourne scene? We await that with interest.

Vale Allan Browne. See ya, mate.

ROGER MITCHELL

In 2010, before his quintet ushers the Stonnington Jazz audience into his quintet’s suite A Season In Hell, Allan Browne tells of his personal journey to the brink: CLICK TO READ THE INTERVIEW

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

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A SANDWICH OF FOOD FOR THE SOUL

Mike Nock at The Wheeler Centre

Mike Nock at The Wheeler Centre

REFLECTION:

A Conversation at The Wheeler Centre and three concerts at The Malthouse on Saturday 7 June 2014 for Melbourne International Jazz Festival

1pm: A Conversation with Mike Nock

Improvising musicians are always listening to the others in the band, on the lookout for something they can pick up on and take somewhere. Journalists are always on the lookout for the angle — the unifying aspect that can help make a collection of events into a story.

Mike Nock handed me the angle to this post about his Wheeler Centre conversation and the three gigs to come later, although I did not pick up on how it would work until the evening. He spoke about a lot of aspects of music in this hour, including the fact that he once sang at the London Palladium, but more about these topics later if time permits.

I want to highlight a couple of Nock’s statements about jazz. He said jazz is “about connecting with people emotionally”. Later he said, “It is food for the soul — that’s what jazz is.”

I was happy to hear a musician of Nock’s stature say this, because I am at times moved to write food-for-the-soul-type comments about the music that moves me, although I am wary of slipping into sentimentality and aware of reactions to what’s played being subjective. If I do write thus about a musical experience I seem to be nagged by an inner voice wanting to dismiss this sort of talk as emotional claptrap and asking what it really means to say something “feeds” the “soul”.

That’s a topic for later, perhaps, but as it turned out, the Malthouse gigs later that evening — ironically, perhaps, the two before and after Nock’s gig with Laurence Pike — prompted me to want to use that emotive description.

Mike Nock at The Wheeler Centre

Mike Nock at The Wheeler Centre

7pm: Hunters & Pointers

First on stage were members of Hunters & Pointers, who had not performed together for 21 years. They were John Hoffman on flugelhorn, Graeme Lyall on saxophone, Tony Gould on piano, Ben Robertson on double bass and Tony Floyd on drums. How much talent can you fit on one stage?

From the opening notes I just wanted to find better words than smooth to describe this quintet’s work. Like a well-oiled trombone slide these luminaries of Australian jazz just let the notes slip into the auditorium and hang there in space.

I often prefer tension-filled music that’s prickly and sharp-edged. But this was sublime stuff that I knew would draw out that stuff about “food for the soul”. Luckily, I had Mike Nock’s words to provide support.

After Just Friends, my favourite vocalist Kristin Berardi joined Gould for Body and Soul, then the band for a vivacious rendering of Tea For Two. In I’ve Grown Accustomed to Her Face, Lyall delivered some super smooth alto sax that was fat and furry, Floyd’s work on brushes and mallets was superb, and Gould’s solo was a treat. This piece drew a loud “Yes” from the audience and justifiably so.

In mid concert there was some horseplay and even a joke, before the set’s highlight, for me — Berardi’s performance in Spring Can Really Hang You Up the Most. Her vocals in this were eloquent, sensitive and yet not sentimental at all. The audience forced an encore, It Could Happen to You, that featured a solo with Robertson really jumping and evolved into a really swinging number.

This was food for the soul part one.

Tony Floyd and John Hoffman

Tony Floyd and John Hoffman

Kristin Berardi with Hunters and Pointers

Kristin Berardi with Hunters & Pointers

Kristin Berardi with Hunters and Pointers

Kristin Berardi with Hunters & Pointers

Graeme Lyall

Graeme Lyall

Tony Gould

Tony Gould

Tony Floyd

Tony Floyd

Ben Robertson

Ben Robertson

John Hoffman

John Hoffman

9pm: Mike Nock and Laurence Pike

As mentioned, this set had a different sort of appeal. Immediately I was struck again by Nock’s ability to create an air of reverence that is totally engrossing, yet does not require many notes to be played.

Pike was extremely busy at times on drums and percussion, playing almost as if possessed — but in a muted fashion. (What is conveyed comes as much from what he holds back as by what he actually does, if that makes any sense. An example is the vigour with which he goes to hit with brushes, yet hardly any sound emerges.) I was reminded of a Cannonball Adderley live gig in which you can hear the audience respond to what’s hinted at by the rhythm section.

Nock built tension and focus, commanding attention. As the set progressed, both Pike and Nock were tinkering at sounds, producing electronic static along with rattles and the shaking of bells, plus short flurries of piano notes between pauses. I thought there was a lot in common with the Alister Spence Trio‘s set of the previous evening.

I was not moved to describe this as food for the soul. My appreciation of the set was more dispassionate. The appeal lay in the fascination of a changing landscape.

Laurence Pike

Laurence Pike

Laurence Pike

Laurence Pike

Mike Nock

Mike Nock

Mike Nock

Mike Nock

11.20pm: Julien Wilson Quartet

The finish of this narrative is probably fairly obvious by now. Julien Wilson on clarinet and tenor sax joined Barney McAll (over from New York) on piano, Jonathan Zwartz on acoustic bass and Allan Browne on drums and cymbals to complete a dream line-up.

I had lost any urge to dash off to Bennetts Lane to hear Django Bates Beloved play Charlie Parker. Another time. I wanted — wait for it — food for the soul, and this was the quartet to provide exactly that.

They began with Ellington’s The Feeling of Jazz, then Deep Night followed by a new ballad, Bernie, in honour of the late great Bernie McGann. Weeping Willow followed as a tribute to recently departed Gil Askey. There were great solos by Browne and McAll in this. In particular I loved how the quartet ended this and the previous piece, allowing them to gradually slip away. It was appropriate, I thought, to have such peaceful departures for these two characters of jazz.

From the opener, Wilson showed again that he continues to play with assurance and to draw on deep inspiration that is clearly a sustaining force.

They played another new piece, Rain Man, and ended with Farewell off the album This Is Always as an encore.

McAll seemed attentive rather than flamboyant on the night. He later said how much he appreciated Browne being so zen at the drum kit.

This concert was good for the soul. It was the perfect ending to the penultimate day of MIJF 2014.

ROGER MITCHELL

Jonathan Zwartz

Jonathan Zwartz

Barney McAll

Barney McAll

Barney McAll and Julien Wilson

Barney McAll and Julien Wilson

Allan Browne

Allan Browne

Julien Wilson and Jonathan Zwartz

Julien Wilson and Jonathan Zwartz

Barney McAll

Barney McAll

 

EVERY FACE TELLS A STORY

Allan Browne

Attentive Allan Browne.

PICTORIAL UPDATE

MIJF Club Session at Bennetts Lane Jazz Club 7pm Monday 2 June: Allan Browne Quintet performs The Drunken Boat

I had not heard The Drunken Boat performed live, so it was great to hear this work “in the flesh”, played by an ensemble including the composers Geoff Hughes, Eugene Ball and Stella Browne. Scott McConnachie was on saxophone, but otherwise the line-up was as on the album released by Jazzhead.

Ball on trumpet and McConnachie were almost always hidden in the half light mid-stage, so as I listened to the varied moods of these fairly short pieces my focus was on the faces of the illuminated players — Nick Haywood on bass, Hughes on guitar, Stella Browne on vocals in the closing song and Allan Browne on drum kit.

Allan Browne was in fine form and said at set’s end that he did not have to make use of his “friend” the oxygen tank. I love watching Allan as he plays, the emotions written on his face like the poetry he loves and writes. His moments of exultation are unrestrained, his concentration there for all to see. The images below reflect this.

This concert was a compelling showcase of the composing talents of Hughes and Ball. Stella Browne’s vocals with Rimbaud’s words were indeed poetry.

ROGER MITCHELL

Geoff Hughes

A glimpse of Geoff Hughes.

Nick Haywood

Nick Haywood concentrates.

Allan Browne

Allan Browne loving it.

Allan Browne

Allan Browne listens.

Allan Browne

Allan Browne on fire!

Allan Browne

Allan Browne reflects … on Rimbaud?

Stella Browne

Stella Browne