Two conversations on last week...

1.

Caller: Hi, is that Alex Hawkins?

Me: Yes

C: Sorry - it's really last minute I know, but any chance you can dep for us on a gig tomorrow night?

M: Thanks for asking, I appreciate the call, and it would've been fun, but I've got tickets to see Cecil Taylor and Anthony Braxton at the Festival Hall.

C: Who's that?

[etc.]

2.

anon: are you around tomorrow night?

me: no, I'm at the Festival Hall, I'm afraid

anon: who's playing?

me: Cecil Taylor, Anthony Braxton, William Parker, and Tony Oxley.

anon: goodness - how did you get that gig?

And amazingly, that second one was not in a dream.

I think last night's gig was something truly, truly extraordinary. It can be seen so often at festivals that 'summit meetings' can be really disappointing, and for a number of reasons: lack of rehearsal, lack of common ground, grandstanding, whatever. And even with four undisputed masters on stage (with Braxton and Taylor, of course, routinely and uncontroversially described as geniuses), it wasn't quite clear what would happen on the gig. The languages of both are of course different, although not as extravagantly different as (say) Ornette Coleman's is from Taylor's; and their compositional styles contrast radically (on which, see two fascinating posts towards the start of Taylor Ho Bynum's blog: here for Braxton, here for Taylor).

The 'rhythm section' (at the risk of connoting old-fashioned group hierarchies) would clearly gel: this was the reunion, after all, of the 'Feel Trio', which recorded the momumental box set live during a residency at Ronnie Scott's (before that club decided that it wasn't about the music after all), as well as a couple of albums for FMP. Braxton, similarly, would clearly hit it off with Oxley (see 'Seven Compositions (Trio) 1989', for example, as well as with Parker, with whom he has played recently in trio with both Hamid Drake and Milford Graves. Yet the prospect of Braxton with Cecil was intriguing, and slightly hard to fathom.

The concert began highly theatrically (interesting, as Braxton's music moves into a new phase (I gather) more concerned with 'drama', broadly construed), with Oxley ambling on to his own sparse percussion. This was followed by Taylor reciting poetry from offstage, his voice massive as channelled through the house PA. He then appeared to the side of the stage, danced to the piano, before beginning a pair of duets with Oxley, totalling probably twenty minutes or so. Noticeable in these was Cecil's restraint, to the extent that one might even have thought that this was the beginning of the great man 'resting' his technique (not in the slightest, by the way: the quartet contained some of the fiercest playing imaginable). The first duet was ultra-lucid tonally (it would be quite possible to draw up some kind of chart from the recording, I'd imagine), with Cecil showing an extraordinary deftness of touch. The luminosity of his tone was magic here (note to piano-geeks and corporate sticklers: Cecil was playing a Steinway D, rather than his customary Bosendorfer. Or is the Bosy no longer customary for him? I don't know!) Interestingly, Cecil seemed so restrained and deft in the opening of the piece that Oxley seemed slightly at a loss for the first ten minutes or so, finding it somewhat  difficult to lock-in with the piano. The second duet was more percussive, although still very pitch-based and tonally anchored, and perhaps as a result of its more percussive bent, Oxley was tuned in immediately and magnificently. Fascinating also with the opening sequence was how Taylor and Oxley at once created a fully coherent musical duo statement, and a dramatic prologue to the rest of the concert.

Exit Cecil and Oxley, enter William Parker, for a brief, but wonderful, bass solo; at times sounding a little like a pared-down(!) Alan Silva and Henry Grimes combination, as he anchored a keening arco line with occasional pizzicato cadences on the bottom two strings.

But all this was by way of prelude to the quartet. The fascinating thing about this was that it sounded neither like a Braxton group (perhaps relatively unsurprisingly), nor (much more surprisingly) like a Taylor group with a twist. In this respect, the group felt much more than the sum of its parts: fairly remarkable given those constituent parts...

Given the uncertainty beforehand over how the group would sound, coupled with an assumption that it might sound a little more like a Taylor group than anything else, the opening was particularly gripping. And it reminded me of nothing quite so much as the Taylor/Bailey duo from Berlin (except insofar, of course, as it sounded nothing like it...) This was because Braxton, by sheer force of his massive musical personality, clearly was exerting as much influence over the dynamic of the performance as Taylor, who, much as in the Bailey performance, didn't touch the keyboard for a good while, instead playing 'gamelan' with the inside of the instrument: this while Braxton explored the extreme registers of the contrabass clarinet.

After this introductory passage, Taylor moved to the keyboard, as Braxton unleashed a completely thrilling solo on sopranino, circular breathed for around 3-4 minutes (not unlike a Roscoe Mitchell line, in fact). Thrilling not only at face value, but because it became clear that Braxton was in no mood to take prisoners (I don't mean to suggest that this was a testorone fuelled slug-fest - which is the downfall of so many of these 'summits' - and which of course, one would never expect from either of Braxton or Taylor: more that Braxton was technically all over his horns; interactive as an equal rather than a sideman; and not at all overawed by the situation. I have never met Braxton, of course, so I have no idea whether or not it would be in his nature to be in awe on the bandstand, so I only make the comment because it is quite clear (see dedications as far back as on 'For Alto') that he holds Taylor in an especial regard.)

There followed wonderful trio sections: Oxley laying out on two occasions, grinning from cheek to cheek as he surveyed the goings on; and Braxton laying out towards the end, leaving Cecil to a quite frighteningly intense (and to the pianists amongst us, simply frightening) solo.

Other observations...William Parker is a wonderful foil to Tony Oxley. With his huge, earthy sound in the Ware/Grimes tradition, and his willingess to play simple - often actually vamp-based, last night - bass lines, he complements Oxley's more conspicuously cerebral approach wonderfully (although Oxley was pushed to much for propulsive playing than I've heard from him before, especially towards the climax of the piece).

Second, the Taylor and Braxton the composers were definitely present on the gig. It was fascinating to hear Braxton 'collage in' Taylor's motives, as he might use his own. Similarly, Taylor responded fascinatingly to Braxton's various languages: techniques which he was never fed, for example, by his other great front line partners (for example, Jimmy Lyon's wonderful bebop derived language didn't really contains the pointillism which Braxton often deployed on sopranino in particular).

Third, and related to that point, it was fascinating to hear quite how locked-in Taylor and Braxton were from a pitch point of view. Whatever one might have speculated beforehand, their ears and languages were totally compatible, and in a literal and more gestural sense could hear precisely what the other was doing and where he was going.

Fourth, something Dominic Lash remarked to me, and I absolutely agree - Cecil was 'comping' in a totally different way than in either his big band, or any of the small groups I can think of. I suspect this was in part due to the streams of ideas going between Taylor and Braxton. Whereas Taylor has always, in the past (someone will think of exceptions, I'm sure!), been, as composer-pianist, the main source of ideas for his soloists, constantly feeding them material, here, Braxton was throwing at least as many, possibly more, ideas into the mix: Taylor was freed, should he want to be, from his role as 'provider'.

Fifth, each of the men played with an obvious joy. Braxton was rocking backwards and forwards, completely absorbed. Cecil had a manic grin on his face all through. Even Oxley was smiling; and usually, one highlight of an Oxley performance is enjoying how thoroughly disinterested he looks with the whole thing (however musically engaged he of course is!). 

Sixth, the overall architecture of the piece was magnificent - another testament to Braxton and Taylor the composers. And whatever the micro-contours of the performance, it moved inexorably towards an absolutely blistering finale, where Taylor finally cut loose completely, Braxton showed that he can play expressionist, post-Ayler saxophone better than anyone, and Oxley and Parker summoned awesome power.

This is going to be broadcast on Radio 3 this Friday - I hope, though don't know - timewise - in its entirety. I really hope this is released as well: it'd be criminal for a gig in which Braxton, Taylor, Oxley and Parker exceeded the sum of their parts not to be.