The similarities between abstract expressionism and improvised music have been described in considerable detail. Several painters claimed they were inspired by free jazz/improvisation and listened to the music while doing their thing. Likewise, it is no surprise that a lot of practitioners of free jazz/improvisation pick up a pencil, brush or chisel once in a while. On a general level, freedom and energy are often crucial concepts. In hindsight, it is not surprising that Ornette Coleman’s Free Jazz proudly displayed a painting by Jackson Pollock (White Light) and that music critic Martin Williams addressed the comparison to ‘contemporary non-objective painting’ in the album’s liner notes with such obviousness.
As a music writer, is it also tempting to incorporate the vocabulary from another art form, especially when it is difficult to explain what happens in theoretical terms. As such, the musician suddenly becomes a painter applying colours and shades, dense smears and light touches, pointillistic patterns and brash sprays. Or a sculptor, creating and refining shapes, hacking away at the material in front of them. And that often works, as it is a sensible way to capture, translate and share the vivid temperament, energy and spontaneity of the music. Of course, there is more. You can also take the actual gesture and intention into account.
The idea that they were no longer attempting to reproduce an external image has been crucial in the practice of abstract expressionists. Art critic Harold Rosenberg, also the one who coined the term ‘action painting’, wrote about the canvas as “(…) an arena in which to act – rather than as a space in which to reproduce, redesign, analyse or ‘express’ on object, actual or imagined.” He added even more succinctly: “What was to go on the canvas was not a picture but an event.” The painter no longer set out thinking of a particular scene or image, but started a relationship with the canvas and the paint.
Also in music, the artists no longer attempted to uphold the idea that the music could signify anything about the world. Sound is abstract, so why not embrace that, and focus on the range of sounds, extended techniques, density, dynamics and the here and now. With its suggestive ‘song’ titles and variety of approaches, One In The Eye is an interesting example to consider. Despite some earlier creative encounters, a few of which were previously released by this label, Alan Wilkinson and Dirk Serries interact with an openness that fully embraces this ‘arena in which to act’.
Verging from a pugilistic physicality to restrained sound exploration, the album demonstrates a willingness to try out diverse approaches. It combines studio recordings with live material, captured not even two months apart, and even though the live improvisations are more extended, the album is a remarkably cohesive one. With Serries on acoustic guitar, it also requires both musicians to adapt. Wilkinson can produce quite a voluminous racket, but here he is a remarkably versatile improviser, often working with rhythm, repetition, extended techniques and dynamics, displaying an indebtedness to some of jazz’s old school heroes while delving into sheer abstraction as well. And you will love his Howlin’ Wolf impression!
The musicians obviously relish the possibilities of the moment, working with their material and instruments, but also with each other’s responses. Their method doesn’t offer classic examples of transparent dialogue or imitation (God forbid!), but instead works with simultaneous action that occasionally might be abrasive, but also uses space, flow and consensus. And that’s why One In The Eye, despite its fickle character, is an event that most of all impresses with its unreserved glee; the joy of making music together, from scratch.
Guy Peters 2021
