The Singular Path of Sam Newsome

Before sounding a note, soprano saxophonist Sam Newsome told the 70 of us gathered at Holyoke’s Wistariahurst Museum about four epiphanies he’s had in his life. The first one, in middle school, was his realization that music would be central to his life. After establishing a career as a tenor saxophonist, his second epiphany was to forsake the tenor for a new instrument: the soprano saxophone. Then, after hearing a Steve Lacy solo album, Newsome dedicated himself to the art of playing alone. Finally, he committed to concentrating on the broadest manifestation of sound.

His preamble provided a helpful frame of reference for the beguiling, highly original 70 minutes of music that followed. The December 19th event was Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares’ fifth concert of the season.

Describing the evening by listing all the extraordinary treatments that Newsome employed to alter his soprano, would be to miss the significance, and impact, of his devotion to basic sound science. The concert was more than a succession of innovative techniques; each segment moved us, made us laugh, forced us to ponder assumptions and possibilities.

At two different points in the concert he hooked chimes, one metal, one wood, to his horn. With the chimes dangling, Newsome swayed and created a beautiful tapestry of sound that had a wind-blown randomness, coupled with conscious chromatic intent. During other segments, he attached coiled plastic tubing between his mouthpiece and the body of his instrument, deepening the sound and changing the resonance to resemble a bass clarinet.

He folded a tin pie plate over the bell of his horn after putting objects inside (dried beans? small marbles?) and shook it like a shekere. He produced flatulent, duck-like noises. He attached four balloons to his soprano, creating rubbed percussion. He leaned into the body of the grand piano onstage and blew, creating notes that decayed throughout the lovely Wistariahurst Music Room.

One could describe Newsome’s music as “other-worldly,” but then I had an epiphany of my own: these sounds are not from another world, they were produced by a human being standing right in front of me, using familiar objects. Perhaps it is the narrowness of our experience within the infinite sound world that cause us to characterize these sounds as foreign. Newsome’s commanding technique and fertile imagination elevated the music beyond novelty, to something profound.

Newsome had arranged his accoutrements on the small stage and played in front of it. The flat seating meant that those towards the back had difficulty seeing how he was doing what he was doing. I like to close my eyes when listening to music, but so much sounded so novel, that I, and many others, were craning our necks and shaking our heads throughout.

Newsome employed circular breathing and rapid fingering to produce what I swear was audio signal processing. Some of the most sublime moments occurred when Newsome played it “straight,” with no effects or extended techniques. He played, then deconstructed Ellington’s “In a Sentimental Mood,” and later Coltrane’s “Giant Steps,” allowing these iconic melodies to shine. At these moments we could fully appreciate Newsome’s virtuosity.

Newsome is an integral part of Darius Jones’ Shades of Black Quartet and Fay Victor’s SoundNoiseFUNK Quartet, but there are few musicians who have devoted such a large portion of their professional life to performing alone. Since 2006 Newsome has released seven solo soprano saxophone recordings. His latest is Chaos Theory: Song Cycles for Prepared Saxophone.

“I’ve always felt playing music must be about more than chasing opportunities to make money and being famous,” Newsome writes in the introduction to his book, Life Lessons from the Horn: Essays on Jazz, Originality and Being a Working Musician. “Since gaining the adulation of strangers has never been high among my desires and none of these different kinds of fame provide anything extra to our music, I’ve concluded that my creative production is in itself more important.”

We are inspired by, and thankful for this attitude. It is one of the most important criteria we use in programming Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares.

The Wide World of Jazz: Christoph Irniger’s Pilgrim in Springfield

Most jazz fans are aware that the music we love is a worldwide phenomenon, revered and supported everywhere on the planet. But jazz—our most original cultural export—is held in higher esteem and afforded more resources outside of the United States. U.S. jazz artists can still travel internationally and be paid commensurate with their skill. The U.S. jazz infrastructure, however, is mostly incapable of returning the favor to jazz musicians from other parts of the world.

Lucky then to have a chance to hear, and hang out with, five creative musicians from Switzerland. Saxophonist and composer Christoph Irniger and his quintet, Pilgrim: Stefan Aeby, piano, Dave Gisler, guitar, Raffaele Bossard, bass, and Michi Stulz, drums, played a Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares concert at Robyn Newhouse Hall, Springfield Community Music School, on Saturday, December 7.

The event was only possible because of Swiss government support. A tour that includes a record store (the legendary Bop Shop Records, Rochester, NY,) a grass-roots media center (the fabulous Sanctuary for Independent Media, Troy, NY,) a small arts organization (the dynamic City of Asylum, Pittsburgh, PA) and our small, itinerant shareholder-based organization, Pioneer Valley Jazz Shares, is hardly the stuff of international touring.

Besides paltry artist fees and difficulty gaining a toe-hold in the American jazz press, foreign musicians have to deal with onerous and expensive work visas. Even venues offering door gigs want to see work visas, Irniger told me. “It used to be easy to make no money,” bassist William Parker has said, “now it’s hard to make no money.”

None of that seemed to matter to the 40 listeners who were treated to an ear-opening hour of improvising. The Irniger originals, drawn from Pilgrim’s three recordings on Intakt, came in great variety and provided a full picture of the artistic reach of the band, which has been together seven years.

Some of the music was contemplative, pastoral, sunrise beautiful. Guitarist Dave Gisler laid washes of major chords on top of unfurling melodies that felt like anthems. Those pieces reminded me of Chris Lightcap’s open-hearted compositions for his band, Bigmouth.

Other pieces had an edge, a rock attitude, hard and raw. Here Gisler used electronics and considerable technique to ratchet up the energy level, inserting an ominous uncertainty into each piece. Drummer Michi Stulz was a revelation, sub dividing beats with great accuracy, folding life into the music, animating the composer’s broad intent. I thought of drummer Bob Weiner, who was in the house, as Stulz used bells, resonators, and other little percussion to color and embellish. I noticed Bob and Michi, along with fellow drummer Jon King, huddled during the post-show reception.

Pianist Stefan Aeby and bassist Raffaele Bossard completed the first-rate rhythm section. One highlight featured Aeby’s prepared piano sounding like a tamped banjo, in unison groove with Gisler’s ringing guitar. I loved the unhurried feel of Bossard’s playing. His sound was big, fat, in perfect balance with the band. Perhaps because his was the only horn, Irniger’s tenor saxophone sounded especially rich, woven as it was into the group aesthetic. He took no more space than the others, shared lead melody duties, and accompanied bandmates.

This entire band was unknown to me a year ago. It’s a constant, pleasant source of wonderment: no matter how current I think I am, in this great big world, there are always more creative musicians to discover.

A People’s History: Avery Sharpe’s 400: An African-American Musical Portrait

As a presenter used to counting audience members by the dozen, having more than 650 people attend the latest Magic Triangle Jazz Series concert was out of the ordinary, to say the least. There are a few reasons why Bowker Auditorium was filled to the rafters on November 21. Avery Sharpe, who brought his quintet and eight-member choir to Amherst, is a UMass graduate and a long-time resident of the Pioneer Valley. The project he presented, “400: An African-American Musical Portrait,” marking the 400th anniversary of the beginning of the Atlantic slave trade, is timely and has epic sweep. He also happens to be an accomplished, world-renown bassist, composer and bandleader. Sharpe’s appearance generated cover stories, feature articles and radio interest throughout the region.

The pre-concert buzz was justified by a monumental, syncopated survey of the enormous contribution Black people have made to American music. Like the recent recording, 400 (JKNM Records,) the concert followed a chronological progression of African-American musical history. The evening – filled with joy, sorrow and resistance – touched on blues, ragtime, various jazz styles, spoken word and church music.

The strength and clarity of Sharpe’s writing, the sure direction of choir director Kevin Sharpe, and heavy contributions by Don Braden, tenor saxophone and flute, Duane Eubanks, trumpet, Edsel Gomez, piano, Ronnie Burrage, drums, and the choir, insured the evening was much more than a flat, breeze-through of various styles.

Early in the night, Sharpe, now 65, reminisced about sitting in the balcony of Bowker as an undergraduate, going crazy for the NY Bass Violin Choir. That night, watching Milt Hinton, Richard Davis and Bill Lee, the electric bassist decided to engage with the acoustic instrument. With guidance from then-UMass professor Reggie Workman, Sharpe embarked on a career that has taken him to the highest reaches of the jazz world. You could tell it was meaningful for him to return to this site of inspiration and present this large-scale project in front of so many friends and admirers.

When I originally contacted Avery about performing in the Magic Triangle Series, I was thinking quintet. When I heard the Extended Family Choir on the recording, I had a strong inclination to add voices. With brother Kevin Sharpe at the helm, the eight singers included sister Wanda Rivera, and niece and nephew Sofia and Rob Rivera. Avery reminded us that, unlike their brothers and sisters who were brought to South America and the Caribbean, Africans in North America were largely denied access to the drum. The voice, however, could be neither confiscated, nor silenced.

The Choir’s solo feature, “Antebellum,” occurring almost half way through the program, acted as a bridge between centuries three and four. It began with a beautifully sung hymn, and ended in gospel, with the insistent refrain, “Wake up, rise up.” Another vocal high point, the spiritual/protest anthem,“Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around,” was arranged by Sharpe. When Sofia Rivera stepped to the mic and threw down her own spoken words, “America, land I love, country that despises me in one breath then praises me in the next,” they fell on us like a mind bomb.

Generally speaking, I’m good with one bass solo a set. There were more than that on Thursday. How lucky for me then, that the bass player was Avery Sharpe, who thinks melodically and can play anything.

After the last piece, the forward-thinking, “500,” UMass Department of Afro-American Studies Chair Stephanie Shonekan, professor John Bracy and photographer Bobby Davis presented Sharpe with three large Davis photographs. It was a nice acknowledgement of Sharpe’s contribution to his alma mater, western Massachusetts and jazz. High on the music, with so many family and friends on the stage and in the audience, it was a feel-good moment.