DL Review: Ivo Perelman - Reed Rapture In Brooklyn, Part Two - With Tim Berne

Ivo Perelman

Reed Rapture In Brooklyn

(Mahakala) ivoperelman.bandcamp.com/album/reed-rapture-in-brooklyn

Part Two - With Tim Berne

This is the second passage in what I hope will be a 12-entry write up that focuses on the sessions on Perelman's digital album, on which he duets with a dozen different reed players.

Unlike the tenor saxophonist's session with Joe Lovano - 14 tracks that didn't last longer than eight minutes, with most coming in well below the five-minute mark - this hour-and-change session with Tim Berne is devoted to longer conversations. Of the five of them, one goes on for 22 minutes, two for about 13 minutes each and another two for seven. 

Neither saxophonist is out of place in longer tracks. Perelman's Live at Nuremberg album with Matthew Shipp consisted of a continuous performance full of ripples and nuances. Alto saxophonist Berne is probably the musician who really made me appreciate extended compositions. His albums with the quartet Bloodcount included works that went on upwards of 40 minutes, taking all kinds of turns, detours and regenerative passages, which often seemed to come out of nowhere. The way "What Are the Odds" on the Unwound disc goes from solo to composition stands out as particularly memorable.

While Berne's compositions are engrossing, he hasn't always had the same impact when working in a purely improvisational situation. Granted, his recent work with guitarist David Torn and drummer Ches Smith has been an exception to that. Albums and live performances have been pretty fiery. But his Paraphrase trio seemed to wander. The Veil - a CD by the trio of Berne, guitarist Nels Cline and drummer Jim Black - was a strong set overall, but there were many times where Berne seemed to stick to raw growls and overtones when one of his flowing lines could have added more to the music.

So I'm breaking my own rule again. Originally I said I'd listen to each Reed Rapture session just once, treating it like a live performance and then writing about it. This piece is being composed while the music is playing again because I think I was doing a few things while listening to the first time, not giving it total attention.

My takeaway from the first listen was that Perelman and Berne spent a lot of time imitating whistling tea kettles, squealing in that upper register. In fact they hit that shrill spot at about the time in the first two tracks, right around 2:30.  Altissimo wails are fine but a little can go a long way. 

But Perelman and Berne seem to realize that. As often as they go high, they don't ever reside in that space for too long. They're ready to jump onto something else after making their point. In addition to that, their duets really sound like involved conversations. They listen closely to each other, leading Perelman to echo phrases from Berne, replicating dynamics and lines. In "2," a moment comes three-quarters in where it sounds like they're playing a Berne composition; Perelman joins in and it works, with Berne even bending his line to meet the tenor saxophonist's melody. At one point, their quick exchanges almost sound like, 
"S'alright?"

"S'alright!"

The final track, "5," even finds them delving into some musical drama. Berne blows low while Perelman seems to coo in response. It might be too much to call it a ballad, but it has a pensive quality to it. In the end, while the duo might have given into their wilder instincts a few times, they likely came away knowing a great deal about each other as players.