Left - Jonathan ZwartzJonathan Zwartz & The Sea graced the IMB theatre at the IPAC last evening; a lineup comprised of musicians capable of leading their own bands, anywhere on the planet (and, of course, a number of them do). It was Jon Zwartz’ turn to show his musical leadership, in a very extended set, centred around the eponymous double-Bell(Jazz Awards)-ringing album.
The Sea seems such an apt album for both disc and band: much of the material played last night explores the very fabric of the soul; the ebb and flow of life and the very rhythm of breathing. That is, it’s not so much involved with earthier matters of the heart, but more ethereal, esoteric intangibles. My contention is exemplified in the opening numbers: the unfolding intro, segueing into the first (unannounced) piece and a new composition, dedicated to Zwartz’ wife, Jane, called Icelandic.
I’ve never been to Iceland (not even close), but this work effortlessly met all my aesthetic expectations, with its evocation of desolate expanses of lonely tundra, which have their own strange, indefinable romance, holding, as they do, the promise of escape and isolation, time and space, clarity and rejuvenation.
The calibre and sophistication inherent in these tunes, these refined, abstracted evocations of place and mood, is all the more breathtaking for the fact The Sea is Zwartz' solo debut.
Having soothed the savage beast thus, there was a gentle upswing with It Can Wait Until Tomorrow, which put me very much in mind of Bacharach’s easy style and sunken lounge ubercool.
Notable was, and is, Zwartz and co’s readiness to cross musical borders: they ventured beyond the extensive borders of modern jazz, to the fringes of popular, classical and later in the concert, soul, funk, R & B and more. It’s always a delight to find interpolations of rhythmic figures from, say, a trad New Orleans marching-band here, to a dance or trance motif there. At least one of Zwartz' brilliant horn arrangements echoed the New Orleans snare sampling, too.
It’s the uncommon understatement that distinguishes and elevates their music, which is to be expected: this is a veritable Australian jazz supergroup.
Hamish Stuart, on drums. The very complementary, economical Fabian Hevia, on percussion. Individually and together, their superlative, unsurpassable musicianship makes a mockery of all drummer jokes. They are every inch as thrilling, supportive and integral as the legendary Motown rhythm sections, of which, this evening, they were quite reminiscent.
Of course, there’s Zwartz himself, unassuming, a quiet virtuoso, with veritably classical sensitivity and precision (but very much a jazz feel and textural sensibility), whether bowing or plucking his upright bass.
Tom O’Halloran, one of the most lucid and fluent of all pianists, but with a complicit, team-playing discipline which, depending on context, can translate into a flurry akin to a cascade of white wattle borne on a balmy spring breeze or, perhaps, a single note, that makes all the difference.
Phil Slater, a mellifluous trumpeter whose name and reputation well-and-truly precedes him.
The clownish James Greening, whose prowess, power and originality, on trombone, can’t be obscured or betrayed, even by the constancy of his distracting, playful antics.
Richard Maegraith, on saxophone, whose outings on both tenor and baritone were the bomb; unable to be obscured or betrayed, even by the contrasting seriousness of his demeanour.
But the jewel in the crown of this ensemble, as they, I expect, would be first to suggest, was, and is, the illustrious Tina Harrod, soul-sister numero uno. Not just in our neck o’ the woods, for mine, but globally, and even historically. She doesn’t just sing songs, she lives them: her heart is wholly invested in every line, in the spellbinding way of a Billie, or Bessie. From the moment she hits the stage, the band is transformed into something quite different: her band. And the tempo and intensity is veritably tripled, as they transform, as a unit, into a rhythm and blues powerhouse, albeit a subtly jazz-inflected one.
Throughout (to my reckoning) an exceptionally generous two-and-a-half-hour continuous set, happily overrunning the programme by a solid hour, we heard exciting percussive breaks, explosive blasts from Greening, Cuban flourishes from O’Halloran, and so much more; including songs (to arbitrarily name but one treasure from her rich dowry) like the original Seven Days, from Harrod’s blistering album Temporary People, last year’s follow-up to her award-winning Worksongs.
Who would’ve thought unparalleled musical class and cachet could be found in what is, arguably, bogan central; Wollongong, on a Wednesday night? Viva La Gong!
Wollongong City Council presents
JONATHAN ZWARTZ & THE SEA
part of VIVA LA GONG!
Venue: McCabe Park, Burelli St, Wollongong
Date: Saturday 6th November, 2010
Visit: http://vivalagongfestival.blogspot.com/
