KEN WALTON
IN THE end, perhaps the least impressive thing about the Sun Ra Arkestra is that they take the name of an artist who died more than 25 years ago, and don’t just trade on it with a degree of credibility, but develop an invigorating and enjoyable set on their own terms.
Sunra(bornhermanblount in Birmingham, Alabama, in 1914) was a pioneer both in jazz music and in the concept of afrofuturism; that is, imaging what the future might look like from a specifically black point of view. He played free and experimental jazz, with a band whodressedinthesequin-andsynthetics uniforms of carnivalesque future warriors, and crossed over into the use of electronic instruments in jazz composition.
The Arkestra was what he called his band, whose original iteration were linked to here by saxophonist Marshall Allen, standing centre-stage and blowing still-powerful lines augmented by the five other players, and singer Tara Middleton on mantra-like vocals. Allen will be 95 years old next month, and perhaps the splitting of the set into two 45-minute halves was intended to preserve his energy.
The show was energetic in places, however, including the almost New Orleans-inspired Two Tones and amid the crisp, driving rhythm to match Middleton’s repeated chorus of We Travel the Spaceways’ title lyric. Where the music relaxed, it was into the dreamlike state of Astro Black, with the band processing drowsily through the crowd, or the upbeat bliss of Watch the Sunshine. As long as Allen can play, and with the Star Trek kitsch of the costumes balanced by the biting relevance of the songs played, the future this music promises will remain before us all.
The SCO & Håkan Hardenberger
Queen’s Hall, Edinburgh
IT FELT like a comedy sketch. Twelve tiny Contredanses by Beethoven, none lasting more than a minute, were separatty ed by pauses of almost as long as the SCO’S two horn players carefully removed and replaced the crooks – differing lengths of tubing tuning their instruments to different keys – of their natural horns. Conductor John Storgårds made sure the two players got a specialbowattheend–butwithall eyes on them during their endlessinstrumentaladjustments, how could he not? Despite its acknowledgement of instrumental authenticity, it made for a frustratingly start-stop conclusion to what had been a surprisingly patchy concert.
Swedish trumpeter Håkan Hardenberger was the evening’s star soloist. He gave an unexpectedly thoughtful, mellow account of Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto, which showcased his effortless agiliand impeccable articulation marvellously, not to mention the golden glories of his rich, oily tone. But his bigger work – the 2007 Busking by Viennese iconoclast HK Gruber – was less convincing. It began wittily enough, with Hardenberger parping a little tune through his trumpet mouthpiece alone, to the accompaniment of banjo twangs and wheezy accordion interjections. But the overly complex, multi-layered textures of its second and third movements didn’t live up to the work’s initial promise, and offered little that was particularly distinctive or memorable, despite some beautifully shaped playing from Hardenberger.
Storgårds was in his element in the concert’s engaging opener, the bracing 1914 Serenade by Erwin Schulhoff, but even here, with its large-scale repetitions of material, there was a feeling that the piece had rather outstayed its welcome.
THE BBC SSO opened Thursday’s concert with a couple of dedications: one to Debussy from the jagged pen of Stravinsky (his edgy Symphonies of Wind Instruments); the other Mark-anthony Turnage’s thoughtful tribute (the percussion concerto Martland Memorial) to his late friend and fellow composer Steve Martland, who died six years ago aged 59.
Turnage’s concerto – a largely dance-inspired set of movements – is unexpectedly understated, given Martland’s reputation as a musical rabble-rouser. Yes, there is rumbustious and satirical wit in the Rumba, soloist Colin Currie doing an impressive one-man-band number that juggled bird whistle, car horn and swanee whistle with traditional marimba and Latin jive, and in the spirited Courante and Hornpipe. But overall there is a dark luminescence that shrouds the score, evocatively textured in the opening Cortege, central Pavane and closing Lachrymae.
Art Garfunkel
Glasgow Royal Concert Hall
WITH his former partner Paul Simon auspiciously retired from touring, Art Garfunkel is now the principal torch carrier of their exquisite songwriting catalogue and he proclaimed himself to be “over-excited” at the prospect of sharing the legacy on the final night of his UK tour.
Naturally the more conservative of the pair, Garfunkel presided over a conventional, intimate “evening with…” set-up of songs and stories, backed by Paul Beard on keyboards, Tab Laven on guitar and with periodic cameo appearances by his son Arthur Jr, who has inherited the heartbreaking pipes.
His proud dad watched from the sidelines as he delivered the bittersweet Wednesday Morning 3am with a faultless ease which his father has lost
Currie, a former member of the Steve Martland Band, also played it cool, as if responding to the sardonic touches of Weill and Stravinsky that colour the orchestra’s opening gambit.
Strangely, the actual Stravinsky, with its rude opening, struck me as more in the spirit of Martland. Under the clinically cool baton of Martyn Brabbins, the SSO wind and brass delivered its vying dynamic layers with crisp electricity one minute, languid density the next.
The second half was given over to Shostakovich’s Tenth Symphony, chilling and unnerving on one level, not least the brutal sweep of the opening movement, quizzically profound on another.
A few uncertainties in wind attack threatened the following a lengthy bout of vocal paresis at the start of the decade. Garfunkel Sr, in turn, could bring all his experience to bear on a more emotional delivery – his light, breathy voice radiating vulnerability and tenderness.
Later, they demonstrated their innate bond with honeyed harmony renditions of two Everly Brothers’ songs, Devoted To You and the rapturous Let It Be Me, and Garfunkel went on to showcase his facility for heart-on-sleeve love songs, covering Randy Newman’srealemotionalgirl and pairing Jimmy Webb’s All I Know with Gallagher & Lyle’s A Heart In New York.
Not that he needed to go beyond the Simon & Garfunkel catalogue for blushing romance, recognising the captivating power of both Kathy’s Song and the towering For Emily, Whenever I May Find Her.
He paid due tribute to Paul Simon’s acclaimed lyricism but Garfunkel himself exhib
otherwise grippingly sustained tension.
Rufus Wainwright
Glasgow Royal Concert Hall
NOT that Rufus Wainwright ever needs an excuse to celebrate his fabulousness but he haschosentomarkhis20years in showbusiness by revisiting his first two formative albums with a full band and “no nudity – unfortunately”.
The theatricality was instead mostly contained in the music, though Wainwright did manifest as a gothic Victorian ringmaster to perform highlights from his self-titled debut album.
April Fools showcased what