Mat Maneri Quartet - Ash

Label: Sunnyside Records, 2023

Personnel - Mat Maneri: viola; Lucian Ban: piano; John Hébert: bass; Randy Peterson: drums.

The second consecutive outing of violist Mat Maneri in quartet with Romanian-born pianist and regular collaborator Lucian Ban, bassist John Hébert, and drummer Randy Peterson is called Ash, and continues the hauntingly atmospheric explorations started with the previous, Dust (Sunnyside, 2019).

The minimal architecture of the pieces encompasses slow, circumspect developments that might seem understated in terms of individual improvisation but are strong as a collective effort. It’s precisely with a collective improvisation, “Ash”, that they start off the proceedings. There’s crawling viola lines emerging sinuously from dark subterfuges and places of mystery. The search is endless with the body of the bass and flickering cymbal energies aligning forces for a strange coalition with the congruous piano, whose harmonic texture glues everything together.

The microtonal restraint of Maneri darts around on “Moon”, a piece based on a melody by violist James Bergin whose sounds are somber and sleep-inducing. Its floating detachment doesn’t seem to take us anywhere in concrete but ends with more percussive flavor than it started. Also wandering in rubato style, “Earth”, which is based on a melody by Mat’s father Joe Maneri, joins avant-garde jazz and modern classical influence, reserving a space for Peterson’s adroit drum flow by the end. Another classical-influenced piece is “Brahms”, which revisits the Romantic Classicism of the German composer in the title with beautiful melodic suspensions and resolutions that sweep through a richly brushed rhythmic tapestry.

Overtonal balance is achieved with Ban’s “Glimmer”, whose discernible main statement, delivered in parallel by viola and piano, is a reference point. The group distills their tonal language into an ample musical space, and their interplay - especially between Maneri and Ban - stands out. The quartet finalizes with “Cold World Lullaby”, a picturesque folk-imbued number carried with a slight sense of hopelessness and Eastern tinges. This last polytonal piece was based on melodies by American film music composer Sol Kaplan, Romanian traditional Lume, and a Sicilian lullaby.

Once the mood of a piece is established, shifts and metamorphoses are infrequent. Yet, the warp knitting, angular measurements and gloomy harmonic impressions of this music examine something deeper. We could say this is the sadcore branch of jazz.

Favorite Tracks:
01 - Ash ► 05 - Glimmer ► 07 - Cold World Lullaby

Goldberger / Maneri / Jermyn / Cleaver - Untamed: Live at Scholes

Label: Out of Your Head Records, 2021

Personnel - Jonathan Goldberger: guitar; Mat Maneri: viola; Simon Jermyn: electric bass; Gerald Cleaver: drums.

This ‘Untamed’ performance, another one digged up and recovered by the Out of Your Head label, features a quartet of ripe, well-integrated avant-gardists that includes guitarist Jonathan Goldberger, violist Mat Maneri, bassist Simon Jermyn and drummer Gerald Cleaver.

The single 36-minute improvisation that appears on this record was played live at Scholes Street Studio in Brooklyn, at a time where the group was gigging regularly. Suffice to say that the musical cohesiveness usually found in close collaborators are pretty much on display here. The quartet’s instinctive behavior and freedom allow them to create a palette of inviting sounds that you’ve likely never heard before.

The smart, unconventional atmospheres are continually intriguing and nearly makes us jump out of the reality to embark on a surreal voyage with a lot to discover.

The infallible rhythmic support provided by Jermyn and Cleaver often falls into free-flowing grooves and cyclic pedals that regularly change physiognomies, ensuring that there’s plenty of freedom for Goldberger and Maneri to create and interact. The microtonal vulnerability of the viola together with the moody, mercurial guitar consistently push things into a state of suspension that, although never threatening, pricks our senses.

On occasion, you are offered electronic-like abstractions and constructive ruminations proper of the experimental avant-garde universe. Then the group opens a nice free-funk backdoor that leads into a gentle rubato contemplation tied up with off-kilter composed motifs. On other instances, you’ll be able to enjoy largely atmospheric folk sounds turned into pastoral elegies that feed into imaginary bucolic landscapes slightly blurred by a thin mist. The group concludes in a sort of Radiohead’s stylings through a circumscribed 4/4 harmonic routine.

The impression is strong, and I would definitely like to see this group come out with a studio recording sometime in the near future.

Grade B+

Lucian Ban / John Surman / Mat Maneri - Transylvanian Folk Songs

Label: Sunnyside Records, 2020

Personnel - Lucian Ban: piano; John Surman: baritone and soprano saxophones, bass clarinet; Mat Maneri: viola.

The new explorative trio co-led by Romanian pianist Lucian Ban, American violist Mat Maneri and British multi-reedist John Surman focuses on interpretations of Romanian folk tunes recorded and transcribed by Hungarian pianist/composer Béla Bartók in the early 1900’s. The latter, a pioneer ethnomusicologist, travelled the Romanian countryside for eight years to collect peasant songs, some of which appear here with special arrangements by the trio. Ban and Maneri's musical affinities with Bartok's work compelled them to point out Surman as the third member of the ensemble due to his strong folk background and erudite sound development.

“The Dowry Song” is a wonderful piece that develops with unflinching purpose. With Ban providing a solid base in 5/4 time, Maneri inserts some percussive substance by gently plucking the strings, while the unmistakable, astonishing sound of Surman on baritone gets on top of everything. Before the crescendo that anticipates the finale, saxophone and viola embark on melodic parallels underpinned by a dramatic piano accompaniment that becomes tonally richer whenever Ban hits the lower registers. 

“Up There” features Surman on bass clarinet, an instrument from which he draws mesmeric melodies with a magic touch. Maneri contributes to this asymmetric sculptural exploration with an appealingly tenuous asperity, benefitting from Ban’s textural creativity. The pianist improvises on this number over an ostinato equally shared by sax and viola.

The dynamic “Violin Song” exudes the freedom of an avant-folk experiment. There’s muted piano pedals and bold harmonies, fast elliptical soprano trajectories alternating with carefully paced folk melodies, angular viola cries, and heartfelt unisons capable of creating a strong emotional effect on the listener. 

From this point on, the trio concentrates more on profound, introvert, sometimes mournful meditations such as “The Return”, “What a Great Night This Is, a Messenger Was Born”, “Carol” and “Bitter Love Song”, an icy yet translucent exercise where a frank dialogue between bass clarinet and viola occurs briefly with an absence of harmony. 

The coherently calibrated layering of these three instruments never ceases, and considerably more light can be found on “The Mighty Sun”, a motivic classical tone poem, and on the closing piece, “Transylvanian Dance”, a Garbarek-esque folktale with repeating rhythmic cadences and dexterous chordal work.

Following a structured course of action, Transylvanian Folk Songs manages to be at once freewheeling and languidly pastoral. 

Grade A-

Favorite Tracks: 
01 - The Dowry Song ► 03 - Violin Song ► 08 - Bitter Love Song

---

Mat Maneri Quartet - Dust

Label: Sunnyside Records, 2019

Personnel - Mat Maneri: viola; Lucian Ban: piano; John Hébert: double bass; Randy Peterson: drums.

Mat Maneri is an avant-garde viola player with a penchant for exploring melodies in the vicinity of atonality, and whose approach spans from tearfully mellow to dauntlessly stark. He can brag about his combined efforts with improvisational champions such as Cecil Taylor, Paul Motian, Ivo Perelman, and Evan Parker, but for this new outing, Dust, he commands a quartet composed of pianist Lucian Ban, bassist John Hébert, and drummer Randy Peterson, his longest collaborator.

Regardless the laid-back nature of this often loose and melancholy opus, you know you’ve entered his realm from the moment you hear the opening track, “Mojave”, a slow, pensive poem of translucent lyricism. The distinctive crepuscular tone of the viola, often bordering on the dissonant yet never completely clashing, contrasts with the melodiousness of the piano, while the unfasten lower level results from a combination of soft, unpredictable drumming and spineless bass forms. Ban penned this one.

Many of Maneri’s pieces share this dramatic rubato touches within just-before-dawn textures. The reflective “51 Sorrows”, for example, is submerged in melancholy, doing justice to its title. Ban’s piano stroll doesn’t go unnoticed as he implants colored cadenced phrases in the uniformly ashen global tapestry. The introverted “Red Seven” exposes Hebert’s slides and wide intervals in its introductory phase. Although pretty active in the brushwork, Peterson still corresponds most of the time with the languid line of thought followed by his co-workers. But you'll find more soothing textures, cheerless nostalgia, and vulnerability scattered throughout pieces such as “Losed” and “Retina”, both favoring mournful cries and long breathable bass notes, and also on the noir-tinged “Last Steps”, an old composition whose intensity is considerably stepped up near the end in order to briefly kick the dominant torpor.

The completely improvised “Motian” pays tribute to the exquisite drummer/composer Paul Motian, and just like his music, is not interested in obvious resolutions but rather in suspensions and volatility. In truth, its mood is not so different from the other tunes on the album.

In addition to the aforementioned opening tune, the highlights are the feathery “Two Hymns”, another Ban's composition, which touches upon modern classical beauty, and the concluding “Dust”, another improvisation whose overlapping layers are shaped as recombinations of several elements presented over the course of the session. There’s a mildly spicy Indian flavor in it, but all results in a sort of lovely, icy stillness.

The marvel of this record is the offbeat ambiance created by each piece. For those who are able to find beauty in both abstraction and desolation sounds, this is a valid choice.

Grade B

Favorite Tracks:
01 - Mojave ► 05 - Two Hymns ► 09 - Dust

---

Dickey, Maneri, Shipp - Vessel in Orbit

Label/Year: AUM Fidelity, 2017

Lineup – Whit Dickey: drums; Mat Maneri: viola; Matthew Shipp: piano. 

Vessel in Orbit is a musical narrative of a fictional spatial voyage piloted by a trio of talented musicians and longtime associates. I'm talking about the quick-tempered drummer Whit Dickey, conceptualist violist Mat Maneri, and groundbreaking pianist Matthew Shipp.

Together, and furnished with the appropriate palettes, they illustrate this cosmic adventure that starts with the characterization of their “Spaceship 9”. There’s an imminent sense of danger brought by an insistent chord, an unambiguous rhythmic provocation by Shipp, who inspires Maneri for a few virtuosic and full-blooded runs that initially sound like a horn. The percussive currents emitted by Dickey sometimes gain the form of an imperial march. Despite some textural iteration and occasional mitigation in the intensity, the tune vibrates with movement.

The crew stops the engines for a “Space Walk”, which is done at an irregular pace as a result of freedom. They describe the dark and bright sides of the mysterious planet they’re stationed.
 
Forcing them into a huge vortex of tension, “Dark Matter” brings a jittery effervescence that will lead them to “Galaxy 9”, a quiescent cogitation, later turned into vehement imploration conducted by Maneri’s dramatic phrasing.

While passing a risky zone of “Turbulence”, they experience oscillating moves regulated by Dickey’s technique and loaded with contrapuntal dissertations from his peers, whose paths occasionally cross.

The impact was so strong that a fourth member of the crew didn’t resist and succumbed. That's the reason why lugubrious tones embrace “To a Lost Comrade”, conveying despair and consternation. Here, it's Dickey who tries to pull his mates out of the lethargy.

“Space Strut” shows us Shipp bolstering and propelling the spaceship with left and right-hand attacks, forming beautiful atmospheric textures of wide tonal range.
Already in another dimension, “Hyperspatial” comprehends contemplative reflections and euphoric exaltations punctuated by stratospheric noisy blasts.

If you want to step out of this world for a while, grab this record, which was passionately devised by an experienced trio of galaxy explorers, and let the portions of madness and lucidity invade your own space.

         Grade A-

Favorite Tracks: 
01 – Spaceship 9 ► 04 – Galaxy 9 ► 07 – Space Strut

---

Mat Maneri, Evan Parker, Lucian Ban - Sounding Tears

Label/Year: Clean Feed, 2017

Lineup: Mat Maneri: viola; Evan Parker: saxophones; Lucian Ban: piano.

Sounding Tears is a nebulous musical session devised by the improvisational masters Mat Maneri, Evan Parker and Lucian Ban, American violist, British saxophonist, and American pianist of Romanian descent, respectively.

While Maneri teamed up recently with saxophonist Tony Malaby and cellist Daniel Levine on New Artifacts (Clean Feed, 2017), another abstract trio work, the prolific Parker followed a similar path on the astonishingly atmospheric As The Wind (Psi, 2016), recorded with percussionist Mark Nauseff and lithophonist Toma Gouband. As for Lucian Ban, he, too, released an album called Songs From Afar (Sunnyside, 2017) with his Elevation quartet, which comprises saxophonist Abraham Burton, bassist John Hebért, and drummer Eric McPherson. Maneri also played as a guest on half of the tracks.

As expected, the music of this trio arrives on the spur of the moment, acquiring random shapes and apparently flowing without a fixed structure.

On “Blue Light”, we have Parker’s uninterrupted enunciations secured by muted viola sounds and low-pitched piano notes, both working as a percussive obbligato. A lethargic disposition embraces us in the beginning of “Da da da”, whose uncanny vibes shift into an odd dance of violin and sax while the piano remains actively involved in the discussion.

Neglecting tempo and forsaking harmony, “The Rule of Twelves” finds Maneri and Parker playing an avant-chamber duet immersed in ambiguity. Also rendered in duet, but this time featuring Ban and Parker, “This!” takes a conversational path that, despite experimental, feels more graspable than the previous compositions.
Afterward, it's Ban alone, who shines with a solo piece, “Polaris”, being also preponderant on the enigmatic “Blessed”, in which his penetrating low notes superimpose to the sparse high-pitched lines. The setting he creates is perfect for Maneri’s microtonal approach and Parker’s uncompromised strays.

The record’s two closing tracks are lenient yet contrasting in nature. If “Paralex” evolves into a compulsive manifesto of disordered small flurries and spasms, “Hymn” is the closest the band can get from a song format and the most touching and ear-pleasing tune on the record. 

Sounding Tears is a one-of-a-kind experience. It can be a journey to the ends of a remote universe or a philosophical exploration about the measureless weight of some weird microorganism. It will all depend on the receptivity of your own senses.

        Grade B+

Favorite Tracks:
04 – Blessed ► 05 –This! ► 10 – Hymn

---

Tony Malaby/Mat Maneri/Daniel Levin - New Artifacts

Label/year: Clean Feed, 2017

Lineup - Tony Malaby: tenor and soprano saxophones; Mat Maneri: viola; Daniel Levin: cello.

This symbiotic musical gathering between saxophonist Tony Malaby, violist Mat Maneri, and cellist Daniel Levin happened at the Three’s Brewer in Brooklyn in August 2015. This collaboration is not so surprising to me, taking into account that the members of this trio are prone to new experiments and alternative sounds.

Comprising four tunes, whose durations range from seven to thirteen minutes, New Artifacts opens with the title track, a fearless exploration of tones and textures in an innuendo of avant-jazz meets modern classical. Whether jarring or idyllic, the soundscapes are vast and sumptuous, yet the communication remains focused and alert. Despite occasional escapades, Maneri and Levin are in consonance for the most part of the time, leaving the unrestricted Malaby discoursing via tenor phrases mounted with a wide variety of timbres.

The saxophonist makes use of the soprano for “Creation Story” in which he embarks on a dissonant dialogue with Maneri. They speak frankly and only intermittently reach an agreement. At some point, Levin increases the rhythm by tapping the cello and plucking the strings to make it sound like a bass. The sounds of the instruments blend so thoroughly that sometimes it’s difficult to tell who’s playing what. The tune ends with Malaby’s high-pitched whistles over percussive sounds.

Open and atmospheric, “Freedom From the Known” starts by testing the waters through minimalistic fluctuations in order to gradually compose a wide and complex scene. Here, Maneri influences the mood by contrasting sad melodies with rugged tones.
In opposition to the previous compositions, “Joe” hauls us into a spooky musical setting, forcing us to traverse multiple obscure dimensions.

Highly conceptual, New Artifacts is everything but an easy listening and even staunch avant-gardists will have a challenge here. If you’re sufficiently courageous as a listener, go ahead and try to capture the richness of these triangular propagations.

         Grade B+

Favorite Tracks:
03 – Freedom From the Known ► 04 – Joe

---