Elemental (Rosta Jazz Avengers), April 16, 2005, Diverse Works

This show by The Rosta Jazz Avengers juxtaposed original jazz compositions inspired by traditional Korean and Japanese music with short, silent films by documentary filmmaker Laura Harrison. ("Why didn't I think of that?" I hear you ask.) I admit to not knowing much about jazz, so this post will be more in the way of comments than a critique. The band consists of four musicians: a guitarist, a bassist, a saxaphonist, and a drummer. They were arrayed on the stage so that each was clearly visible, and the band was flanked by a forest of white fabric tree trunks transcended by a canopy, an elegant design by Nathan Wernig. The screen for the films, of relatively modest size, was behind the musicians. Due to the nature of his instrument, the drummer's movements were the broadest and naturally caught my eye most of the time. In the first composition, "Lull," he made some fascinating noises with a steel bowl containing water. At one point he tossed his drumstick over his drums like a gardener broadcasting seeds. In "Slam," he, well, slammed the drumsticks down with great enthusiasm. During an inspired drum solo, I noticed his foot working a pedal drum while he also played with both hands; he slammed with such fervor that at one point the drumset got away from him and he had to jerk it back (in time with the music, of course). Given how the show was billed, I was expecting more film and less music. The program heavily favored the music, with the films lasting at most three minutes or so each. The films showed a variety of "elemental" images (water, wind, fire) in extreme closeups, such as water in the form of droplets and then bubbles. Also included were images of oscillating guitar strings and a bow rather frantically brushing the bass strings. One image I found striking was of squiggly lines - I couldn't figure out from what, exactly - that shifted around and were reminiscent of handwritten Asian characters. At least one film (I forget which, possibly after "Dark Blue") echoed the rhythm of the preceding composition; we found out in the Q&A period after the performance that the piece was in 7/4 time. Usually I would have noticed such a time signature, but I was so lost in the experience that it went right over my head at the time. Thinking back, the rhythm just seemed natural, a testament to the integration of the musicians with their music and with each other. [Maybe paying attention to the movement of the drummer wasn't so crazy. As described by a friend taking piano lessons: "My breakthrough is my new understanding that the movement of the arms and hands originates from the shoulders. I think this isn't quite correct. I'll take it one step further and say it originates from the core. Eureka! This is just like dance! All movement originates from the core of the body. What's even more interesting is that I can imagine my fingers on the keys as a ballerina's feet. Just as you might brush your foot across the floor, extending it until the last possible moment before releasing it into the air, I can imagine my fingers doing the same to build emotion into the music. If its a fast piece, my fingers may jump across the keys. Suddenly, I'm not just playing notes - I'm playing music. Ahhh, how wonderful."]