One of the most appealing aspects of the free improvisation scene is its international character, with artists from diverse countries meeting each other in ensembles of varying size and constellations. From the pioneering days in the late 60’s onwards this was a natural thing. The Dutch ICP clan invited Danish John Tchicai from the beginning, while Derek Bailey was to follow soon. 250 kilometers to the east, one Peter Brötzmann organised an Octet with two other Germans, an English sax player, a Swedish percussionist, a Belgian piano player and two Dutch musicians, on reeds and drums/percussion. Sure, you could distinguish some national ‘schools’ of improvisation, each with their own character, but for many, travelling became a way of life.
Now head to L’Archiduc, an art deco bar in the center of Brussels where you can have an old-fashioned cocktail and attend concerts, mostly on Saturday or Sunday afternoon. It’s a small place, but it has a long history. A bunch of regulars (the indomitable Lew Tabackin one of them) and some serious ‘free’ programming. John Butcher, Fred Van Hove, Ivo Perelman & Matthew Shipp all recorded albums here. And so did this trio, on 31 January 2010. By that time, German saxophone player Stefan Keune and British guitarist John Russell had already refined their duo interaction for more than a decade and a couple of albums, while the addition of Belgian percussionist Kris Vanderstraeten was evidently an inspired choice.
If you, like Russell, like “(…) the idea that any sound [you] can get from an instrument can be used as valid music material”, you are in for a treat here. Vanderstraeten is one of the unsung heroes of Belgian free music. He is our own polytones percussionist, a restless seeker and sculptor of sounds, extracted from his colourful, carefully assembled drum kit and bag full of toys and objects. While his rhythmic sense is refined, another love of his is obviously the sheer diversity of textures, his material at hand functioning as a laboratory of transformation. Ideally suited to complement the equally uncompromising playing of Keune and Russell.
The guitarist, once bowled over by loud rock music, switched to acoustic guitar around the mid-seventies, but it is obvious his vocabulary on the instrument is huge. Switching from precise, gnarly runs and delicate harmonics to jagged edges and dreamy, classical-tinged moments, his playing retains a radicalism even in its quieter moments. Calling him a non-idiomatic improviser would be selling him short, as he is not trying to exclude anything from his playing. Quite the opposite, really: any idea he considers appropriate, should fit in, whether it is a repetitive motif or a sudden, brief nod to an old school tradition.
Along with Stefan Keune’s remarkable propensity for short outbursts, that hit you like a pointillistic shower of squeaky, sputtering sounds, it leads to a kind of interplay that, throughout these two lengthy trio improvisations, rarely settles for anything resembling a classic setting. That should not really come as a surprise, as Keune’s career has also been marked by projects that are hard to pinpoint. The free jazz tradition is still there, just like an affinity with some of the central free improvisation schools (although he seems to have a preference for British collaborators), but there’s also an element in his work that, like in the case of a John Butcher, is more linked to a contemporary sound/texture-oriented approach, with elements of a chamber-like tradition that are also tangible on this recording.
And if the first part constructs an evenly-paced balancing act, the second works with broader dynamics over the course of 40+ minutes, with subdued moments full of finely chiseled details, but also some tension that threatens to explode anytime. Don’t miss the album’s finale in particular, with the three musicians obviously enthralled by the pure joy of playing with sound. Spontaneous, unbridled and hypnotising. Receptive to what is possible, letting the music speak for itself.
Guy Peters 2020
