The Alliteration |cs265









Ces enregistrements de 2011 nous permettent d’entendre des compositions collectives de Nikolaus Neuser, Manuel Miethe, Floros Floridis, Gerhard Gschlössl, Antonis Anissegos, Akira Ando et Maurice de Martin. Musique improvisée d'un ensemble engagé dans une tradition quelque peu datée mais toujours réjouissante, qui nous permet de retrouver quelques beaux artistes plutôt rares, comme Floros Floridis. Dino (Révue & Corrigée)

Gimmicky, in that that each of the seven track titles on the CD is alliterative as are the names of the seven performers, but The Alliteration band members prove their seriousness performing carefully balanced Jazz-based instant compositions. Such is the looseness that the seven bring to the interpretations though, that the polyphonic results relate as much to the free-for-all of a Dixieland party as the arch seriousness of Ascension.
Berlin-based, each band member is part of that city’s cross-cultural gestalt. At least four countries are represented as well. Trumpeter Nikolaus Neuser, saxophonist Manuel Miethe and drummer Maurice de Martin are German; trombonist Gerhard Gschlössl Austrian, bassist Akira Ando Japanese and clarinetist Floros Floridis and pianist Antonis Anissegos, Greek. Each has played with several of the others in many contexts and because of this brings to the mix their experience with film-scoring dynamics, formal notated music and folkloric explorations. Segues are as frequent as they are unexpected. Often reed choruses of yelps, clips and flutters are succeeded by stentorian string motifs that could add ballast to a philharmonic recital, with those motifs then followed by go-for-broke extended techniques invested with deadly seriousness. Other times the interface opens up into near-hedonistic swing as joyful and heedless as fanciful rhythm exercises. What cements the parts together however is the perceptive interlocking of theme with invention.
“Cypher Circle Song” and “Dark Diphthong”, which follow one another, couldn`t be more different in exposition, yet each leaves a sense of a thought completed when finished. The latter, for instance, is cacophonous commotion in which each man appears hell-bent on showing how many uncommon note patterns can be shoved into the tune before it detonates. Eventually though, brass plunger blats and staccato bites from the other horns are soon rearranged into notable cohesion following smoothing glissandi from Anissegos. If “Dark Diphthong” relates to late-period Coltrane, then “Cypher Circle Song” could have been welcomed at an Eddie Condon after-hours jam session. Cheerily optimistic, when Gschlössl’s tailgate blats or Floridis’ sinuous flutters are heard, they suture obdurate parts as much as they shock. Concentrated swaying vibrations create a clam, bouncy interface throughout, although Miethe’s circular-breathing sequence suggests that someone familiar with Evan Parker’s reed advances could have been gigging in a Trad Jazz context, if the Moldy Figs weren’t so change resistant.
Change may be one of the leitmotifs of The Alliteration – the album and the band – but so is restraint. Every individual instance of breath-taking instrumental extension – and there are many– is ultimately subordinated to chamber-music-like discipline. Neither solo smarts nor cascading climaxes are downplayed, but at every critical junction, the supremacy of group creation is emphasized.
This CD was recorded in mid-2011. It’s time for a new one to see how the ensemble has progressed sonically – with or without linguistic gimmicks. Ken Waxman (JazzWord)

Mais convincente na adopção das fórmulas estabelecidas no jazz é aquilo que ouvimos em “The Alliteration”. Os sopros ecoam, por vezes, a fundadora sonoridade de New Orleans, ainda que a abordagem esteja em linha como tipo de ensembles que vão do Coltrane de “Ascension” ao Brotzmann do Chicago Tentet. Há muito de bom para ouvir neste álbum transnacional, mas o mesmo acaba por ceder à vontade de fazer um pouco de tudo sem concretizar algo que seja. Torna-se derivativo, errante, impreciso – não em termos de roupagens, mas dos próprios materiais. Querer, em simultâneo, cobrir técnicas e vocabulários extensivos e criar música polifónica é tarefa ambiciosa e que neste caso não chega a ter a mais desejável resolução.
Isso é tanto mais estranho quando se torna evidente que, contrariamente ao exemplo anterior, o que aqui vem foi estruturado, composto e/ou arranjado. Esta música foi pensada e pré-organizada, mas nem isso lhe deu foco. Até o jogo com as referências do passado jazzístico não é suficientemente explorado – em vez de surgir como um motivo ou, pelo menos, uma coordenada, acaba por funcionar como uma mera, se bem que recorrente, piscadela de olho. Quando o disco chega ao fim, fica-nos na ideia mais o que poderia ter sido feito do que aquilo propriamente que está lá. Seria de esperar mais de músicos como Floros Floridis, Akira Ando e Gerhard Gschlössl. Rui Eduardo Paes (