AACM 30th Anniversary Festival
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The opening performance by the organization’s most renowned group, the Art Ensemble of Chicago, was largely a disappointment. Its main strength and main weakness can be summed up the same way: everyone sounded terrific individually. Saxophonist Roscoe Mitchell offered a stunning display of extended sounds through circular breathing, and bassist Malachi Favors Maghostut consistently played with drive. Trumpeter Lester Bowie contributed some fiery phrases, and drummer Famoudou Don Moye delivered his trademark crackling crispness. But for a group that came to prominence emphasizing layered textures over discrete lines and group interplay over individual virtuosity, the set seemed oddly lacking in empathic and inventive interaction. Part of the problem may have been the absence of saxophonist Joseph Jarman, who’s on an extended hiatus; reducing a group like this from a quintet to a quartet involves more than simply a statistical adjustment. The set didn’t hang together–it was sometimes exciting but seldom moving.
If the Art Ensemble’s set wandered, the next night’s performance of the New Horizons Ensemble worked wonderfully from beginning to end. The show featured an expanded instrumental lineup for “Proof That the Evidence Was Missing,” a work written for the occasion by leader Ernest Khabeer Dawkins. Added to the group’s nucleus of alto saxophone (Dawkins), trumpet (Ameen Muhammad), trombone (Steve Berry), bass (Yosef Ben Israel), and drums (Avreeayl Ra) were a second bass (Fred Hopkins) and drums (Reggie Nicholson). The piece began slowly with a simple, chantlike theme stated in unison by the horns; it then gathered steam, settling into a solid, up-tempo groove as the theme gave way to solos. What ultimately distinguished this set wasn’t memorable melodies or brilliant soloing. Rather, the writing was so simple and lucid that it enabled the musicians to achieve a seemingly relentless momentum. The expanded lineup resulted in unusually rich and varied textures, and the group played cohesively throughout. Nicholson, whose drumming also elevated the set by the Colson Band, was masterful: combining the lithe strength of a middle-distance runner with the fluid grace of a dancer, his playing was irresistibly springy and buoyant. Dawkins’s solo, which was in part unaccompanied, was a model of disciplined intensity, deepening the piece without overwhelming it. And Fred Hopkins–whose bass playing also dazzled in sets by the Colson Band, the Clarinet Choir, and the Ari Brown/Vandy Harris Unit–played this unwieldy instrument with all the immediacy and expressiveness of a singer.
