Post by Map of Tasssie on Jul 6, 2004 9:11:24 GMT 10
Ever thought these 'famous' musicians were not hip? See this review by John Shand from the Sydney Morning herlad, maybe when two amazing msucians get toegterh even better things can happen
Good on ya Shandy for seeing past the jazz community bullshit that is around these days wish I'd ben there instead of stuck due south of the gorgoues Island
By John Shand
July 5, 2004
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JAMES MORRISON WITH JOE CHINDAMO
The Basement, July 2
There is remarkably little cross-fertilisation in Australian jazz. Distance between cities is partly to blame, though not for the division of mainstream and modern into such iron-clad camps, nor for the rarity with which younger players invite older ones to participate in their projects.
Sydney's James Morrison and Melbourne's Joe Chindamo are both hugely accomplished musicians and leaders, one more mainstream-orientated, the other more modern. A recent collaboration at the Melbourne International Jazz Festival led to the pianist taking a guest role here with Morrison's band.
The meeting being on Morrison's turf, it was fascinating to hear Chindamo adapt. His most frequent musical habitat is what we might, without prejudice, call "pretty" jazz, in which he ravishes a melody, then improvises lyrically in the afterglow.
The tougher, mainstream-to-hard-bop approach of Morrison's band brought out another side of Chindamo. Clifford Brown's Sandu was one of a swag of blues tunes he turned upside down and back to front, until a melody going backwards met one going forwards, and a new explosion of momentum resulted from the collision.
Morrison's muted trumpet sliced through a rolling piano figure in a duet on It's All Right With Me. He showed his flair in devising a solo of sustained pertinence to the melody, before Chindamo veered into territory Cole Porter never contemplated, and they took it out with an enthralling series of exchanges.
In perhaps the finest performance I have heard from Morrison, he restored some poignancy to the gratingly over-exposed Nature Boy.
Against very sparse Chindamo piano, Morrison's sumptuous flugelhorn almost sounded like a French horn, and when the rhythm section of Mark Harris (bass) and Craig Simon (drums) established a gently rocking backdrop, his lines retained their bite, while the contour of the solo gradually moved from plaintiveness to a loping swing.
Chindamo rained his own melancholy on the piece, which beckoned back Morrison for a glorious restatement of the melody.
Most of the night was rather more bullish, of course. On Gee Baby, Ain't I Good to You, singer Emma Pask generated some excitement (without resort to shouting), and Blaine Whittaker's baritone saxophone blazed a trail through the muscular drumming. Often excess blighted such tunes, but the chemistry between Morrison and Chindamo lent the night an intriguing edge.
Joe Chindamo plays the Side On Cafe on Friday.
Good on ya Shandy for seeing past the jazz community bullshit that is around these days wish I'd ben there instead of stuck due south of the gorgoues Island
By John Shand
July 5, 2004
Print this article
Email to a friend
JAMES MORRISON WITH JOE CHINDAMO
The Basement, July 2
There is remarkably little cross-fertilisation in Australian jazz. Distance between cities is partly to blame, though not for the division of mainstream and modern into such iron-clad camps, nor for the rarity with which younger players invite older ones to participate in their projects.
Sydney's James Morrison and Melbourne's Joe Chindamo are both hugely accomplished musicians and leaders, one more mainstream-orientated, the other more modern. A recent collaboration at the Melbourne International Jazz Festival led to the pianist taking a guest role here with Morrison's band.
The meeting being on Morrison's turf, it was fascinating to hear Chindamo adapt. His most frequent musical habitat is what we might, without prejudice, call "pretty" jazz, in which he ravishes a melody, then improvises lyrically in the afterglow.
The tougher, mainstream-to-hard-bop approach of Morrison's band brought out another side of Chindamo. Clifford Brown's Sandu was one of a swag of blues tunes he turned upside down and back to front, until a melody going backwards met one going forwards, and a new explosion of momentum resulted from the collision.
Morrison's muted trumpet sliced through a rolling piano figure in a duet on It's All Right With Me. He showed his flair in devising a solo of sustained pertinence to the melody, before Chindamo veered into territory Cole Porter never contemplated, and they took it out with an enthralling series of exchanges.
In perhaps the finest performance I have heard from Morrison, he restored some poignancy to the gratingly over-exposed Nature Boy.
Against very sparse Chindamo piano, Morrison's sumptuous flugelhorn almost sounded like a French horn, and when the rhythm section of Mark Harris (bass) and Craig Simon (drums) established a gently rocking backdrop, his lines retained their bite, while the contour of the solo gradually moved from plaintiveness to a loping swing.
Chindamo rained his own melancholy on the piece, which beckoned back Morrison for a glorious restatement of the melody.
Most of the night was rather more bullish, of course. On Gee Baby, Ain't I Good to You, singer Emma Pask generated some excitement (without resort to shouting), and Blaine Whittaker's baritone saxophone blazed a trail through the muscular drumming. Often excess blighted such tunes, but the chemistry between Morrison and Chindamo lent the night an intriguing edge.
Joe Chindamo plays the Side On Cafe on Friday.