The first Suite comes
into direct competition with Bolling’s
own performance with Jean-Pierre Rampal,
the work’s dedicatee, on Sony. This
fusion of baroque and jazz influences
works well for a quartet, though Bolling’s
nomenclature seems to imply – or am
I reading too much into it – an aesthetic
divergence between the flute and the
accompanying trio. Indeed the flute
is very much primus inter pares as it
leads effortlessly from baroque procedure
to jazz inflection. The trio is more
explicitly rooted in jazz mechanisms,
with the piano writing following a vaguely
Teddy Wilson-Earl Hines axis with more
modern styling as well. In the delightful
Sentimentale second movement I was reminded
of the transmutation that the British
jazz pianist Fred Hunt used to do so
evocatively with the Alex Welsh band
in which he switched from roistering
boogie to impressionist delicacy in
a trice. Sounds bald on paper, sounds
magical to hear. There’s a witty fugue
in the fourth movement with block chording
piano and brushes on the drums and mildly
questioning leaps for the flute in the
sixth movement. The finale marked Véloce
sounds to these old ears like a paraphrase
of Sweet Georgia Brown. No, forget the
sounds like, it is a paraphrase
of Sweet Georgia Brown.
The Second Trio is
a more compact affair, three movements
only and twenty-three minutes in length.
There’s Gallic grace in the opener,
though with a heavier backbeat, and
a long and fine cadenza for the flautist,
the splendid Giovanni Roselli. There
are hints in the piano writing of ragtime,
of which Bolling has long been so notable
an exponent though these are tinged
with his swing-bop excursions (if a
man wants to cover stylistic ground
he might as well do it as deftly as
Bolling does it here). The slow movement
is gentle and songful and the finale
("Jazzy") is whimsical, funny
and frolicsome.
This is an entertaining
addition to Naxos’ Light Classics line,
with excellent recorded sound and first-rate
performances.
Jonathan Woolf
Colin Touchin
has also listened to this recording
Once whilst a student
teacher I had a big argument with my
mentor - he complained that Jacques
Loussier's recordings were neither good
Bach nor good jazz. I countered that
it was something new, true to itself,
and worthy to be argued on its own merits,
and I rather liked it. He didn't! and
was very forceful in his rebuttal of
my claims for the style's validity,
not to say irate. I was reminded of
this exchange and my defence of hybrid
or crossover styles whilst listening
to this disc of Claude Bolling's epic
suites for Flute and Jazz Piano Trio,
because I really wanted to like the
music, but can't sympathise as easily
with this as with the Loussier. The
First Suite was written for the great
Rampal and, the sleeve-note informs,
performed by him and Bolling in Carnegie
Hall in 1975 to ecstatic acclaim. Their
recording was for 530 weeks in the US
popular charts (464 at no. 1).
What's good: the recording
quality is excellent, the sleeve-notes
are helpful in placing these creations
in historical context, (and also point
out that almost all flute students at
the world's conservatoires study these
works), the performers are exceptionally
accomplished, accurate, precise and
neatly together always. The music is
full of varied models from the baroque
- in dance forms, counterpoint, decorations,
etc. There are many different jazz pulses
and rhythms at work, sometimes side
by side, but always clearly laid out.
Roselli's tone is fluid,
warm, rich, extremely well focussed
in the extremes of register and dynamic
and beautifully consistent across the
full gamut; the piano playing is equally
refined and consistent in touch and
rhythm. The bass (one player for each
suite) is played with aplomb and discretion
(though I'd like to hear more of their
part - quite distant on some tracks),
and the drummer is an admirable support,
with superb brushes work in particular.
This lifts some of the sections above
the high standard of performance. The
sixth track, Versatile, of the First
Suite features some particularly fine
bass flute playing. The First Suite
contains seven movements including Javanaise
and Irlandaise indicating the range
of models called on to create the varied
pattern sans textures of the whole 35-minute
piece.
I have heard live performances
of these pieces which moved me more,
excited my listening, and intrigued
my appreciation of the success with
which the composer blends baroque, Faure,
Duruflé, and more, and several
varieties of jazz style side by side.
So why do I find this disc unconvincing?
Perhaps because the performers are so
precise, so careful to be accurate on
rhythmic units, so exact in copying
each other's inflexions and phrasings,
that there is a dearth of spontaneity
and creativity. We are listening to
recreations of someone's written notation,
rather than individuals alert and alive
to each other and to the potential within
the notes. Perhaps this clinical precision
is an acceptable and inevitable statement
of our times. However, without flexibility
and risk-taking, the raison d'etre -
the blending of two (or more) historically
disparate styles so something new arises
and each element seems essential to
this new style and retains authenticity
- is mostly absent.
On the compositional
level, retaining the key and formal
structures more familiar to older music
is a hampering device to the freer-ranging
jazz modulations: this may be deliberately
or coincidentally to retain the listener's
involvement, i.e. not to frighten off
the non-jazz listener and perhaps beguile
him into taking on board something new
to him but after all not as frightening
or decadent as at first thought. If
so, this is an unfortunate compromise.
Real jazz doesn't inhabit these forms
and stick to these balanced key structures
in this way (other balances operate).
So this is a case of neither real jazz
nor real baroque.
The Second Suite is
more naturally jazzy and freer of the
baroque constraints, yet the alternative
in terms of section and melodic extension
is the use of longer sequences requiring
more decorative variation, rather than
genuine development. Here, the first
movement, the longest in the pieces
at almost ten minutes, brings out, in
the latter pages, some genuine exuberance
and spontaneously generated and directed
sparkle in the rhythmic vitality and
energy. And, yes, the musicians do occasionally
not coincide perfectly on every note!
The slow movement of three is the film-theme-like
Amoureuse, a finely-spun aria. The last
movement, entitled Jazzy, is the most
successful on the disc for the freedom
of the playing, and the original notes
provide the most successful combination
of different jazz rhythms and effective
syncopations and tempo changes. From
this, it is possible to argue that the
disc moves progressively from strict
baroque to free jazz. This is a worthy
feature, whether planned or naturally
inevitable in these two works.
I am hugely impressed
by the fluency and control of the players
and in particular the outstanding flautist
and pianist, who ensure every note is
clearly played and cleanly projected
- at all dynamic levels and whatever
the rhythmic intricacy. But it's a little
like seeing a cross between the front
end of a camel, say, with the rear end
of a lion - the colour's the same, but
nature just didn't intend it to happen.
So why do I still like and would I still
defend Loussier? He was inventing as
he was playing, using a Bach original
as a starting point, acknowledging its
essence and respecting it, yet simply
saying this is my springboard and off
I go on my imaginative wing. Bolling
provided great tracks with Ellington
and Armstrong and for many films, but
this hybrid is too formulaic for the
free spirit of creative imagination
to take wing. I have no doubt it would
be different were he playing in the
ensemble to provide his own creative
urge to the ensemble's invention.
If you want a finely
attentive, precisely accurate performance
of these pieces, I can't imagine them
being more carefully and lovingly recreated;
if you like to hear musicians on the
edge risking themselves and surprising
their listeners, this will leave you
short-changed.
Colin Touchin