Kirk Knuffke Trio
Gravity Without Airs
Gravity Without Airs can't be described as a typical trio album, as if anything cornetist Kirk Knuffke plays could be mistaken for typical. This is a guy who impressively pared down Charles Mingus tunes to a duo setting (2011's Orange Was the Color, with pianist Jesse Stacken). His last two trio albums, both from 2020, got him together with drums and tuba (Tight Like This) as well as drums and bass (Brightness: Live in Amsterdam). Both were variations on the slightly standard horn-and-rhythm-section set-up. But on these two Gravity discs, Knuffke convenes a trio with bassist Michael Bisio (a longtime collaborator) and pianist Matthew Shipp, the latter playing with the cornetist for the first time.
In some ways, the album - more than half of it improvised - could be heard as the longtime Shipp/Bisio duo bringing a third element into their musical world. Or Knuffke and Bisio adding a heavy extra element to
their duo. No matter which way you spin it, the sessions end up feeling more like some deep three-way conversations than merely two-plus-one meetings.
Each disc features seven tracks, with the first, third and seventh on each based on Knuffke compositions. Everything in between is spontaneous. Sometimes the writing asserts itself, like the pedal point foundation of "The Water Will Win," giving it a distinct direction. But even an improvised track like "Stars Go Up" sounds like it could be based on a tune, in light of the way the piano and bass sound like they're moving together over a structure. Here, and throughout the album, Shipp and Knuffke meet and react to each other in ways that pushes the music further.
"Between Today and May" shows off Shipp's flexibility in a manner not always associated with his own albums. While the pianist can have a soft touch, especially on more recent work, he really gets caught up in the ballad quality of this piece, sounding especially gentle. Bisio, who begins playing arco, shows facility that goes far beyond the role of accompanist or a spark to start a free fire. Here, he sounds like another horn, playing counter to Knuffke's warm, deep tone. A few songs later, the cornet beautifully leads "Paint Pale Silver," rendering it like a tone poem.
The album also features plenty of open-ended blowing too. Knuffke relishes getting into the upper register and twisting the notes until they grasp for air. Bisio's plucking under the bass's bridge kicks off "Shadows to Dance" and his bent notes set an exciting course in "June Stretched." Shipp, who sounds more and more distinct as a pianist, plays in a manner than can be heavy without ever feeling dense. He also knows when to stop playing and let his friends have time to themselves. Hopefully these three will get back together again sometime soon.
Whit Dickey Quartet
Astral Long Form: Staircase in Space
Drummer Whit Dickey, the man behind TAO Forms, could have been the ideal fourth element on Gravity Without Airs if that session needed a drummer. He doesn't play in an overbearing manner, preferring to approach his trap kit in a manner that might be simple but adds significant elements to the music. In the opening of "The Pendulum Turns," he pumps the hi-hat and adds single hits on the toms, moving casually but with a flow.
The other members of the quartet - Rob Brown (alto saxophone), Mat Maneri (viola), Brandon Lopez (bass) - play like they've absorbed Dickey's concept into their playing. There is a period in "Blue Circuit," the album's 19-minute opener, when they all seem to be collectively trying to negotiate which direction to take next. Eventually Maneri and Lopez lock in together, blurring the sonic lines between the strings, making it hard to tell who is bowing some upper harmonics and who is playing some fast lines. As engaging as the whole quartet gets, it's easy to imagine listening to a whole set of these two string players by themselves.
But Brown, one of the most distinctive free blowing alto players around, adds welcome energy any time he jumps into the fray. His tone continues to thrill, with a punchy execution and an endless supply of harmonic ideas.
All the tracks flow freely but each has a distinct feel to it rather than sounding like slight variations on fire music. "Space Quadrant" begins with strings alone, evoking creaking suspense and tension before building to a boiling point than includes the whole band. "Staircase In Space" moves a bit slower, with Brown digging into some long tones and Maneri bowing in kind. In "Signify" things finally get fully unhinged and frenzied, until Lopez and Dickey take their own duet that creates even more power in its shift.
The one time Dickey comes across as a leader/director might be a coincidence. The aforementioned "The Pendulum Turns" also includes a portion where the whole band sounds like they're swapping ideas and reacting to one another before they take off again. Like Art Blakey warning a horn player that his second chorus is almost up, Dickey starts striking one of his toms and the rim of another drum. It could be a call to a climax since it comes in the final 60 seconds of the tune. Or maybe it's justwhat the song called for. Regardless, this must be what William Parker means in his liner notes when he talks about "human music that will stand up to any dark forces in any universe." Emphasis on the "human" part.
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