CD Review: Roscoe Mitchell - Bells for the South Side

Roscoe Mitchell
Bells for the South Side
(ECM) www.ecmrecords.com

Roscoe Mitchell's new album begins with "Spatial Aspects of the Sound," a 12-minute piece full of open spaces between sustained piano chords and rings of tubular bells. Sometimes the notes hang in the air, decaying organically. Sometimes they're muffled and dissipate as soon as they're struck. Craig Taborn and Tyshawn Sorey play the pianos and William Winant handles the bells. Around 8:30 into it, Kikanju Baku dances, literally, into the piece, wearing ankle bells and sleigh bells, though the visual aspect is only clear because Mitchell mentioned it in a New York Times interview last week. These bells add a flowing sound to the still spare pianos, which pick up in intensity but for a few fleeting moments. It all feels unsettling and suspenseful. In the final minute a tempo is settled and Mitchell plays a simple melody of long notes on the piccolo. With that, the piece is complete.

This track alone proves why Mitchell can't be contained or epitomized as "an experimental jazz music" or "radical composer." Those words only begin to scrape the surface of his work. Bells for the South Side provides an even deeper look into Mitchell's mind, spread out over two CDs that can be challenging but will also be extremely rewarding listens.

The music on the album was written to presented as part of "The Freedom Principle," the 2015 exhibition at the Museum for Contemporary Art in Chicago that celebrated the 50th anniversary of the Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians, the group of musicians that included the multi-reedist and his fellow Art Ensemble of Chicago members. The Art Ensemble's percussion cage, on display at the exhibition, was played during the performance, providing the wide-ranging sounds that bring both clatter and melody to the set.

For the performance, Mitchell (on five different saxophones, flute, piccolo, bass recorder and percussion) works with four different trios, who often co-mingle on different tracks, bringing together unusual instrumentation. The trio with percussionist Winant also includes James Fei (sopranino and alto saxophones, contra-alto clarinet, electronics), both fellow teachers at Mills College with their leader. Sorey (who also plays trombone and percussion) plays in a trio with Mitchell and Hugh Ragin (trumpet). Taborn and Baku join Mitchell in the third trio. Jaribu Shahid (bass) and Tani Tabbal (drums) make up the final one, representing the longest grouping of all.

To describe the rest of the album succinctly makes a formidable task, but the scope of the work almost requires it. "Panoply" (named for a painting that graces the CD's booklet) features the horns in fits and starts, blowing wildly, sustaining notes and darting over drums and percussion (which come from at least three percussionists). This mood continues into "Prelude to a Rose" an oddly beautiful work by Sorey (this time on trombone) with Mitchell (who includes a few blows on the bass saxophone) and Ragin. "Dancing in the Canyon" is the album's one purely improvised piece, with Taborn's spare electronics and Mitchell's reeds testing the waters with Baku. Taborn eventually switches to piano and all three finally dive in for some free blowing. "EP 7849" features Shahid on bass guitar, making some drop-tuned noise that might be expected from a free metal group. The title track features what it says: chiming bells, with Ragin playing off them.

Disc two continues to blend jazz and chamber music, all filtered through Mitchell's unique perspective. After a lengthy duet between his raw, emotional alto and Shahid's bowed bass in "Prelude to the Card Game," Tabbal gets room for an extended solo in "Card for Drums" that provides a new dissertation on how to create a compelling drum solo. This disc's final 25-minute track begins with "Red Moon in the Sky" a blend of wild electronics, bells and piano that practically begs for visuals from the "Freedom Principle" exhibition, as it too evolves into a collective blowing session. One gets the impression that Lester Bowie and Malachi Favors are looking down on the music with approval.

To bring things full circle, "Red Moon" segues into "Odwalla," Mitchell's closing theme from the Art Ensemble days. While the music was all recorded either in the museum's theater or in the exhibition space itself, this performance puts the whole ensemble in front of a hither to unheard audience, to whom Mitchell introduces each member, who gets a chance to blow over the song's vamp.

Hearing the leader's voice warmly announcing everyone, and the reaction of the audience, serves as reminder of the human quality behind this music. While it forces the listener to leave their preconceptions at the door - indeed from the opening seconds of disc one - the final moments prove that this is music build on emotion and communication. Like all great music, it leaves you anticipating what will be discovered the next time you hit the play button.

Mitchell's vast discography under his name and the Art Ensemble's banner all feature many bold and significant works. Time will tell for sure, but it's likely that Bells for the South Side ranks with the strongest due its depth and subject matter.