Showing posts with label Sara Serpa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sara Serpa. Show all posts

Monday, January 22, 2024

Linda May Han Oh - The Glass Hours

Styles: Voice
Year: 2023
File: MP3@320K/s
Time: 69:10
Size: 159,0 MB
Art: Front

(6:49) 1. Circles
(6:42) 2. Antiquity
(5:33) 3. Chimera
(8:29) 4. Jus Ad Bellum
(6:37) 5. The Glass Hours
(9:15) 6. The Imperative
(7:23) 7. Phosphorus
(3:44) 8. Respite
(9:24) 9. The Other Side
(5:08) 10. Hatchling

Linda May Han Oh, a bassist and composer of enormous talent, approaches bandleading with fresh and distinctive vision. Backed by a new quintet that works really great, Oh delivers a set of pieces informed by abstract themes of the fragility of time and life, paradoxes and choices, and social issues in our world. The Glass Hours has that adventurous quality often found in her discography, creating a compound of collective exploration and deft improvisation.

The sinuous, complex melody of “Circles” is earnestly declared, side by side, by Portuguese singer Sara Serpa, whose technique is impressive, and saxophonist Mark Turner. The sounds spread within the organized structure, and we have pianist Fabian Almazan and Turner taking improvisational turns before a fearless double bass solo unfolds.

Introduced rubato by bass and piano before sliding into a 7/4 meter, “Antiquity” is a piece with lyrics centered on the weight of the past, whereas “Chimera”, taking the form of a sensual dance, mutates along the way. A swift rhythmic figure takes center stage, creating a motivically induced substratum later embellished with tasteful electronics.

Often abstract, these avant-leanings occasionally invite us to new territory, like “Phosphorous”, which is rendered with a relentless prog-rock rhythm bed. Drummer Obed Calvaire, who worked with Oh on her debut album, Entry (CD Baby, 2009), locks in with the bassist for the sake of a funk-inspired accentuation, supporting ethereal wordless vocals and saxophone cross-cuts. There’s also a more rugged than sweet keyboard solo here.

The composer delves deeply into this musical universe of linear and cyclical forms. With warfare as a topic, “Jus ad Bellum” flows rubato, later probing polyrhythmic patterns with ritualistic precision. More celebratory is the title cut, which has challenging metered cycles rising and waning periodically; Serpa is on the leading edge here, and Turner and Almazan take improvisational turns. Thematically contrary, “The Other Side” is a meditation on the afterlife, employing a push-pull strategy with well-placed staccatos that ground us in the present.

Impeccably layered with boundless energy, The Glass Hours is a mature work that positions Oh in the vanguard of progressive musical creativity.https://jazztrail.net/blog/linda-may-han-oh-the-glass-hours-album-review

Personnel: Sara Serpa: voice; Mark Turner: tenor saxophone; Fabian Almazan: piano, electronics; Linda May Han Oh: acoustic and electric bass, voice; Obed Calvaire: drums.

The Glass Hours

Friday, April 20, 2018

Sara Serpa - Close Up

Size: 100,4 MB
Time: 41:04
File: MP3 @ 320K/s
Released: 2018
Styles: Contemporary Jazz, Vocals
Art: Front

01. Object (4:01)
02. Passaros (4:16)
03. Sol Enganador (5:59)
04. The Future (5:37)
05. Listening (2:55)
06. Storm Coming (5:18)
07. Woman (4:03)
08. Quiet Riot (3:55)
09. Cantar Ao Fim (4:57)

Personnel - Sara Serpa: vocals; Ingrid Laubrock: tenor and soprano saxophone; Erik Friedlander: cello.

The incomparable Portuguese vocalist/composer Sara Serpa remains faithful to her own musical signature, receiving universal acclaim with recent projects such as Sara Serpa’s Recognition (with harpist Zeena Parkins and saxophonist Mark Turner), Serpa/Matos duo, and now this fantastic new trio, whose first album, Close Up, is the subject of this review. Whether creating textural consonance or embarking on precise contrapuntal effects, the work of German-born saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock and American cellist Erik Friedlander coexists beautifully and pacifically with Serpa’s flawless phrasing and multi-sensitive tone.

Like in some past works, this album includes many references to literature, a deep-rooted passion now extended to film, with Abbas Kiarostami’s 1990 masterpiece Close-Up surfacing as an extra inspiration.

“Object” shows the threesome dancing in different ways, using distinct cadences yet perfectly integrated as a group. Brief cello slashes provide a thin tapestry for both Serpa’s lyrical buoyancy and Laubrock’s world music-inspired inflections on the soprano. The vocalist perambulates since the moment that sax and cello agree on standing side-by-side, anticipating a grand finale delivered in unison.

“Quiet Riot” is clearly hooked on Serpa’s style. Elegant parallel motions and counterpoints, phrase complementations, and Laubrock’s soprano knottiness over the groovy bends and swift drives imposed by Friedlander. These bright moments make you want to go back and re-listen to them again.

Exhibiting multiple ostinatos and the words of the Portuguese poet Ruy Bello, “Pássaros”, is a furtive chamber-jazz effort with a well-defined identity. Still, it couldn't match the irresistible enunciation of “The Future”, a poignant, unswerving song awaken by a continuously reiterated sax-vox pointillism and cello wails. Inspired by Virginia Woolf, the song merges light and darkness in genial moments of metrical defiance. This is naked music where the words mean highly focused sounds.

Friedlander’s seductive fingerstyle drives “Sol Enganador”, a meditative cinematic odyssey where Godard’s philosophical freedom gets in touch with a Fellini-esque flamboyance. Laubrock’s air blows, percussive and invasive at the same time, end up falling into short, feverish phrases that contrast with Serpa’s syllabic patterns, sparsely laid down with an infallible precision.

Floating like a breezy folk song, “Woman” was devised with a sort of angelic flair and erudite expressiveness, meaning that the spirit of Luce Irigaray, who inspired the composition, was properly captured and relocated into the music.

The album closes with “Cantar Ao Fim”, a spellbinding piece with a strong connection to nature, whose freedom erupts from all the pores of its smooth skin. The natural, impromptu vocal chant that inaugurates this piece is followed by a blossoming groove that pushes us into a rapturous sonic orb.

Composition-wise, Serpa is ahead of the curve, establishing her ideas with one foot on the avant-garde and the other on the new music. Categorization can be a difficult task, but what’s really relevant here is that Close Up guarantees an arresting affirmation of her artistic maturity. ~JazzTrail

Close Up