Yes, I'm going to do it. I'm going to get through all 12 sessions of Reed Rapture in Brooklyn. I realize there's been too much time off between entries. Winter Jazz Fest had nothing to do with that. I didn't go this year, partially because of the idea of being around a crap ton of people in a big city after having COVID a month earlier; the other half having to do with holding onto funds to pay for the pressing of my album. Here we go again.
Ivo Perelman
Reed Rapture In Brooklyn
Part Eight - With Jon Irabagon
What a difference a session makes. When we last left our hero, Ivo Perelman was in a deep conversation with James Carter and the duo often sounded like they were playing composed pieces instead of spontaneous works. For this installment, Perelman teams up with that talented scalawag with the artillery of rare and unusual saxophones, Jon Irabagon. Together, their collective ideas move in a different direction, running loose and free instead of looking for form. I refer to him as a scalawag because once he gets going on some pee-wee horn, he really goes for the gusto, even if it means blowing static. His technique does indeed extend, and his chops are right there to deliver something substantial.
Irabagon is credited with sopranino and slide soprano saxophones, the latter of which sounds like yet another rare horn that he has uncovered, following the mezzo-soprano saxophone. While "sliding" isn't exactly the first word that describes his playing here, he does spend a lot of time in the upper register of his horns, which inspires Perelman to employ some high harmonics on his tenor to meet his comrade somewhere close. This happens in the first track, when Irababon locks into a series of high-pitched repetitive figures, and Perelman follows suit.
All seven tracks move along amorphously, never sticking to a particular shape but living in the moment before veering off. While one track nearly hits the 10-minute mark, most are closer to five, with the wildest blasts of freedom coming in the climax of "6," which is a compact 2:47. "4" begins with Perelman entering in a low growl while Irabagon simply blows air thorough his horn. Things get whiney but they also briefly hit upon a melody that feels inspired by both the blues and a synagogue cantor. In a different track, Irabagon approximates a feeling of pain, a flute and, a few minutes later, a fleet of angry gosling falling out of his horn.
It feels significant to note that throughout all of this, Perelman sticks with just one saxophone, his tried and true tenor. The choice always acts as a proud indicator that anything all of these other guys can do with a couple horns, he can match on one. And he's right.
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