Everything in Generalities

restraint, adaptability, commitment, immovability.

Keith Rowe/Radu Malfatti - Φ (buy it here)

Both of these musicians have carved out rather particular niches through the years, with Malfatti working through a set of precise ideas, exploring each fully, constantly finding new ground in a small patch of land, expanding when necessary, contracting for a time, but more than most other people active in this world, his vision is clear, explicit and focused. I think for most this sort of focus would lead to stagnation, but in Malfatti’s case these very qualities have helped him avoid stagnation and he’s produced some astoundingly beautiful pieces of music. His body of work rewards careful listening and shows patient movement even if on the surface it can seem simple and similar.

Rowe shares a consistency, but it’s not consistency of aesthetic so much as consistency of conceptual approach and voice. In his writings and occasional interviews it’s clear how seriously he takes playing and how intently he pays attention to each situation and environment. This means that in a wide variety of situations, Rowe has a touch, a voice that is unmistakably his, and has been for years. And this consistency ranges all over the map. From harsh squalls of feedback and rough and tumble guitar mangle with a blaring radio in the background to subtle, patient explorations of a few textures, a few gestures and their infinite potential.

Given all of that, going into these three discs I wasn’t sure what to expect, which made Exact Dimension Without Insistence a perfect opener, both in terms of the music and the title. It is an unhurried 20 minutes, patient playing, careful timing and a complete shock if you’re familiar with Rowe’s work. There is a real sense of calm throughout, and even with such restricted playing, somehow the romanticism I associate with Frey is still expressed. This piece was Malfatti’s choice, and obviously so. And Rowe’s playing is restrained, a single string in response to Malfatti’s tones. I know a lot of people have had trouble with this one, but it remains a favorite, partly because I was so shocked, and partly because I think it’s a flat out gorgeous piece of music. But it takes less than a minute for the tenor to change with Solo With Accompaniment. There is a tension present from the start, a push and pull. Rowe’s playing, still subtle and restrained is just a bit more forceful. Malfatti’s tones are similar, longer at times, more insistent, but Rowe is the star of this one. Wisps of feedback, sine tones, crackle of steel wool on strings perhaps, all swarm around Malfatti. Rowe’s playing starts to feel more familiar, but I still get the sense he is adapting his playing to the overall style, more on Malfatti’s ground than typical Rowe ground.

Quick interlude about that, those four words at the top were chosen carefully. From the outset you see both of these musicians exhibiting them to varying degrees, and more importantly, in their individual ways. While the adaptations they each exhibit were wildly different, I was struck by how both men adapted themselves and their playing while still remaining (in a positive sense!) a bit immovable, meeting the other to varying degrees while maintaining their singular approaches. And while we’re taking care of business, this is as good a time as any to talk about the sequencing. Briefly, it’s masterful. While the first disc is two pieces by other composers, chosen by Rowe and Malfatti, the second disc consists of two compositions penned by Rowe and Malfatti respectively. This alternation of choice is clear in the music. There is a sense of starting at different (not opposing) poles, of a movement between them, and an eventual coming together in the final disc of improvisation. Really well done by all involved.

Nariyamu is pretty obviously by Malfatti. The music feels precise, measured. The tension of the Cardew piece is mostly gone but even so Rowe’s playing continues to push, to be a bit more forceful, lending a grit throughout the forty minutes, with hums and whines weaving in and out. Rowe is still restrained but where for the Frey it felt like he was focused on adapting to Malfatti’s aesthetic, in the Cardew and in Nariyamu I hear it more as an extension of Rowe’s playing. It’s a restrained extension, but less about muting himself and more about incredibly careful playing. There is a beautiful moment 32 minutes in where the two are playing together, crackle and hum melding perfectly in sync with low tones from Malfatti. And earlier we hear something from Malfatti that feels almost as shocking to my ears as Rowe’s performance in the Frey. Out of silence comes a metallic click, and it is obviously from a brass instrument, a nail struck against some ridge on the trombone. It’s fair to ask why something so small is so memorable, and I think it has a lot to do with the power of Malfatti’s focus as a composer and player. His approach is so consistent that even the smallest variation can read as a sea change. Not that this is a sea change as such, but for a full disc and twenty minutes we have heard very similar playing from Malfatti, so when he decides to do something different, even if small, it is magnified; and when these things occur, they are careful and purposeful.

The final composition is by Rowe, and here we move more onto Rowe’s ground again. There is harshness to the playing here (from both!) that leads perfectly forward, the last plank on a bridge from Frey to the final disc of improv. On this piece the playing feels more like eruption than calm transition from silence. Malfatti’s playing especially is great. His parts are minimal still, but instead of only employing long, beautiful tones, there are harsh breaths, long stretches of ragged breathing trailing off into nothing. Where the Frey was the most extreme example of Rowe coming to Malfatti, this sounds like Malfatti coming to Rowe. There are spaces and silence, clicks again as well, but there is no calm, or there is less calm at the very least. Out of the four composed pieces, this is the most tense, and I think the most interesting, even if it’s not the best, or my favorite.

The final disc is 50 minutes of improvisation and is in many ways the most difficult part to get my head around. This is not an easy 50 minutes, but it is a rewarding 50 minutes. Where in the two previous discs both performers’ voices ebbed and flowed, this disc is the most foreign of them all. Throughout it can be difficult to tell who is doing what. After spending as much time with it as I have I feel like I’m getting a better sense, but it’s striking how mysterious the playing is here. Hums and whistles, scrapes and clatter, breath and static all meld together in a way that is at once appealing and confounding. I was reminded of motubachii in a way, not because of similarity in sound or even technique, but there is a similar level of mystery, of experimentation.

And that, I think, is why this final disc is so wonderful. It actually feels like an experiment. Put poetically it feels like two immovable giants moving, figuring out how to come together. There are moments that feel somewhat familiar, known techniques and approaches, the playing that has made them so deservedly known in this world. But there is a mystery as well, as though after two days of moving between poles, meeting each other at various points and at times retreating, they have rubbed off on each other. There is restraint and harshness, silence and eruptions of noise from both musicians. This is not calm music by any means, but it is unhurried. Tense yet patient. You get the sense that neither wants to rely on the familiar for this final disc, and the result is fantastic. To my ears at least, definitely some of the most exciting improv in years.