Catching Up with Percussionist, Composer, Arranger Samuel Torres
January 15, 2011 by danavas
Filed under Interviews
Interview #2 conducted October 2, 2010 by Tomas Peña (by telephone)
“Music was always the main communion between the members of my family, my friends and me. It also helped me find out who I am.”
TP: Congratulations on the release of Yaounde, your third recording as a leader.
ST: Thank you.
TP: Do you come from a musical family?
ST: My grandfather, Manuel Martinez was a trombone player. He came from a small town in southern Colombia near Ecuador. At the age of fourteen he escaped from the Ecuadorian army and he traveled throughout the Caribbean during the 1930s and 1940s. Before returning to Colombia he picked up a lot of musical influences. My grandmother was a self-taught musician and my uncle, Francisco Martinez, who is the father of (pianist, composer, arranger) Edy Martinez, played the saxophone.
TP: Tell me about Edy Martinez.
ST: Edy came to the United States as a teenager in the 1960’s and rose to fame in the New York City salsa scene in the early 1970s as a pianist and arranger for Ray Barretto’s conjunto. My uncle Juan followed him. He was a drummer and sideman with the Tito Rodriguez orchestra and Machito and his Afro Cubans among others.
My grandfather (Manuel) had a great collection of jazz and Afro-Cuban LP’s (records) that he picked up during his travels and because of Edy I have a collection of Ray Barretto and Fania (Records) recordings. When I was a kid I was fascinated by album covers. My favorite album cover was (and still is) Ray Barretto’s Indestructible.
TP: The cover depicts Ray unbuttoning his shirt and removing his Clark Kent-styled glasses to reveal a Superman costume underneath. Indestructible and The Other Road (1973) are two of my favorite albums of all time.
ST: Eventually I got around to playing the record and I fell in love with Ray’s music and his energy, he was my idol. When I finally met Ray I mentioned that one of my favorite recordings was Barretto Live: Tomorrow (Koch Records, 1976). Suffice it to say he did not feel that it was one of his best recordings.
TP: I also idolized Ray and grew up listening to his music. It was Ray’s work as a sideman with guitarist, Wes Montgomery that sparked my interest in jazz.
ST: Through Ray’s music, which contained a lot of jazz elements I started listening to jazz, Cuban music, the Fania recordings and Latin jazz. Then in 1989 my cousin went to Cuba and returned with recordings by Irakere and Los Van Van. At the same time there was a big musical community in Bogotá and a nightclub called Salomé, where music lovers and collectors gathered. On Friday night after the bar closed, the serious music lovers would stay behind and listen to music until seven AM. That’s how I was exposed to music that was not considered mainstream in Colombia. After that I started studying music formally. I studied classical music by day and listened to Cuban music by night.
TP: The last time we spoke you mentioned a number of other recordings that were influential in your musical development.
ST: Actually, there were two: Tito Puente’s Cuban Carnaval (1956, RCA) and Santitos Colon’s De Mi Para Ti (1964). I listened to those albums over and over. I even listened to them while I slept.
TP: Today we call that “downloading.” What prompted you take up the drums?
ST: There was a popular commercial on TV for Cerveza Aguila in Bogotá that began with a simple conga pattern (mimics the patterns by mouth). Basically, I started out by copying the basic patterns. Then I graduated to cookie cans, a pair of old bongos, a pair of new bongos, an old conga drum and finally a new conga drum.
TP: Did you take formal lessons?
ST: Yes, I took about four lessons with a great conga player from Colombia named Luis Pacheco. He was the original conguero with Grupo Niche and Orquesta Guayacan.
TP: He taught you the basics.
ST: Yes. Also, when Cuban musicians performed in Colombia I went to see them and invariably we would talk about music and share new ideas. In 1993 my uncle Edy returned to Colombia and formed a band. Also around that time a lot of Cuban musicians moved to Colombia and I learned a lot from them.
TP: How old were you when you started playing semi-professionally?
ST: I was about fifteen years old.
TP: You also studied composition. The following is a direct quote: “Since I began playing Latin percussion, I felt there was a pervading bad attitude about percussionists. People would laugh and say, ‘there are musicians and then there are conga players.’ One of the things that I wanted to do was to help change that incorrect impression. I believe that composition is one way to do that. Composition is a big tool to help one understand music. It enables you to express many feelings that it might be difficult to communicate otherwise.”
ST: When I told my professor that I wanted to be a professional conga player (percussionist) he asked me if I was willing to forego a career as a classical percussionist and I said “Yes.” Later the Dean of Music became involved and he offered me some very solid advice. He told me that I needed a major and suggested that I should study composition as a way of learning to make a difference and develop my own sound. He also taught me another interesting lesson. That is, in order to break the rules you have to learn them.
TP: What is his name?
ST: His name is Guillermo Gavinia. He eventually went on to become Colombia’s Minister of Culture.
TP: By all accounts you were very successful at an early age. In fact, by the time you were twenty-one you were already an established musician as well as a director and arranger for some of Colombia’s most highly regarded telenovelas (soap operas) and films. In spite of that you packed your bags and moved to the United States.
ST: I knew that someday I would come to the United States. The music that I fell in love with as a child (Salsa, Latin Jazz) was created in New York.
TP: Did your uncle Edy (Martinez) play a role in your decision to move to states?
ST: At the time he was living in New York and performing with Ray Barretto’s conjunto. I knew that coming to the states was something I had to do. With respect to my career in Colombia, I was working a lot, making lots of money and playing with some of the best musicians on Colombia’s music scene but I was only twenty-one, still young enough to start a new career. When my mother moved to Miami (1998) I sensed that life was telling me what to do. I followed her one year later.
TP: Shortly after arriving in the U.S. your career took a dramatic turn when you were tapped by trumpet virtuoso Arturo Sandoval to join his group. You spent four years touring and recording with Arturo. Tell me about that period in your life and what you gained from the experience.
ST: Arturo taught me so much. Among other things he taught me about the Cuban element. The way Cubans speak, their expressions, the way they walk, the way they eat, the way they dance. You have to understand the culture in order to understand their music.
TP: In retrospect what was the most significant lesson that Arturo taught you?
ST: When I arrived in the U.S. I was very critical of myself, I was very self-conscious and I had a tendency to over intellectualize my playing. Arturo taught me how to loosen up, to be more spontaneous and to connect with the audience. I can still hear Arturo saying, “Stop worrying, you are a great musician, play from the heart and transmit that feeling to your audience.”
TP: Considering the source that is quite a compliment. While you were with Arturo’s band you attracted the attention of Tito Puente, Paquito D’ Rivera, Chick Corea, Michael Brecker, Claudio Roditi, Richard Bona, Lila Downs and Shakira among others. As a result you participated in many recordings as a sideman. In 2006 you stepped out on your own and recorded Skin Tones, your first recording as a leader.
ST: While I was living in Miami I wrote a lot of music and worked at developing my sound but it wasn’t until I moved to New York (2002) that I found a voice for my compositions.
TP: How so?
ST: All of my idols live in New York! While I was in Miami I saw a lot of bands that gave me great ideas. Groups you don’t often see in New York and I started thinking about the kind of sound I wanted to create. When I arrived in New York I met vocalist Julia Dollison, whose voice is like an instrument. I collaborated with her and trumpeter Michael Rodriguez on a demo and started thinking about the possibility of creating a career and making a living with my music. Shortly thereafter, I recorded Skin Tones.
TP: You assembled an all-star cast for the recording: Bassist John Benitez, pianist Hector Martignon, harpist Edmar Castaneda, drummer Ernesto Simpson, trumpeter Michael Rodriguez, saxophonist Mike Campagna and vocalist Julia Dollison among others. How was the recording received?
ST: Very good! From my perspective as a Colombian living in New York it was a very gratifying experience. Unlike other recordings where percussion is used to provide shades and colors, the drums are the centerpiece, everything revolves around the drums.
TP: And the reviews were excellent.
ST: I am grateful for the positive feedback and very happy with the way the recording turned out.
TP: Your association with African guitarist, Richard Bona and a recent trip to Africa (Cameroon) ushered in a new chapter in your life. Moreover it provided you with a new appreciation for the manner in which the music of your native Colombia evolved. Tell me about your trip to Africa and the connections between African and Colombian music.
ST: The first connection is geographical. Climate wise it is very similar to Colombia. Also, the music is very similar. The African influence is very strong in Latin America.
TP: In spite of that, the African influence is often denied in Latin America.
ST: It happens. In Colombia, after the slaves were freed they built their own cities (Palenque’s) on the Pacific coast and segregated themselves economically and socially. Similarly in Cameroon there are no roads. People get to where they want to go by boat or by plane. Interestingly over the last ten years it has become very fashionable to learn about Afro-Latino culture and Black music. The African influence is strong in Latin America and there is no denying that fact.
TP: It’s gratifying to see a growing Afro-Latino movement throughout Latin America. While you were in Africa you discovered some intriguing similarities between the music of Colombia and Cameroon.
ST: Yes, the use of the marimba and the way the people dance. The music of the Pacific Coast region has indigenous influences, which makes it sound more Latin however rhythmically the music of Cameroon is quite complex.
TP: When you returned from West Africa you embarked on your second recording as a leader.
ST: Actually, I had no idea of what to call it!
TP: In the end you named the album after a song you composed, which is named after Cameroon’s capital city (Yaounde). Tell me about Yaounde.
ST: It’s Latin jazz with a Colombian groove, a New York vision and the spirit of West Africa. Ernesto (Simpson) and John (Benitez) lived in Colombia and they have a deep understanding of the music. And of course the rest of the band members are all superb musicians.
TP: Stylistically, it is more adventurous than anything you have done before. And once again you assembled an all-star cast of Puerto Rican, Cuban, Jewish, Colombian and South American musicians who are well versed in jazz and Latin music: Joel Frahm (tenor and soprano saxophones), Anat Cohen (clarinet), Michael Rodriguez (trumpet, flugelhorn), Manuel Valera (piano, Fender Rhodes, Nord keyboard), John Benitez provides (bass), Ernesto Simpson (drums) and Sofia Rei Koutsovitis (vocals).
How was the recording received?
ST: The reviews have been very good. More important the critics seem to understand the message I am trying to communicate.
TP: It must be very gratifying to know that the critics “get it.” What’s next on your agenda?
ST: I have a number of things coming up, the biggest is a cultural festival in Bogota (Colombia) in October (2010). It’s the world premiere of Concierto para 8 Congas Y Orquesta (Concert for 8 congas and orchestra) with the Bogota Philharmonic followed by a concert in Germany on December 15th.
TP: Good luck with the performance. Do you have any plans to record the event for posterity or perform the concierto in the states?
ST: At the moment there are no specific plans to do either. However, I am open to the idea.
TP: Before I close I should mention the fact that you placed second in Thelonious Monk International Jazz Competition for Hand Percussion. Moreover, you produced the DVD, Drum Solos Revisited for Martin Cohen’s Latin Percussion, Inc., which features fifteen New York City percussionists showcasing beginner, intermediate and advanced solos on congas, bongos and timbales.
More important you have succeeded in dispelling the notion that “there are musicians and then there are conga players.” As one reviewer wrote you are a “fully developed musician in the true meaning of the word – an artist who passionately follows his intuitions, ever broadening his horizons while further honing his wide-ranging, world-class skills.”
ST: Thank you for your kind words.
TP: Thank you for taking the time to speak with me and much success with your upcoming concert in Bogota, Colombia.
ST: Thank you, Tomas.
For Additional Information on Samuel Torres visit www.samueltorres.com
Jovino Santos Neto – Veja o Som/See the Sound (Adventure Music)
There comes a time in the life of a pianist, when the lure of a solo project is strong and he or she inevitably gives in. Having thus satisfied the yearning the musician is struck by an even more daunting task: the thought of a duo program, made even more alluring when there is an opportunity to duet with more than one musician and instrumentalist. Such an extravagance is rarely passed up so it is no surprise to find the wonderful world of pianist Jovino Santos Neto illuminated and festooned with duets with no less than twenty musicians as he makes this extraordinary album, Veja o Som (See the Sound), so named when the remarkable Airto Moreira let it slip after the spectacular duet take made it to the album. To be accorded the privilege of playing with practically anyone he wished to play with is rare indeed for any musician and says a lot about his or her relationship with the record label. And Adventure Music once again lived up to its name as well, by going the distance with Santos Neto this time. So what did the pianist do with this privilege?
First off, the program meanders into a maze of great music, with surprises at every turn. It is almost as if Santos Neto hopped onto a futuristic craft and began his journey through ether, suddenly encountering music and musicians with whom to play it. The surprises are breathtaking and the fact that it took two CDs to realize the dream is indicative of the fact that Jovino Santos Neto chose to choke the listening audience with gold in a bejewelled ornament of a double CD. The second remarkable aspect of the program is the outstanding playing of Santos Neto. His ability to switch from soloist to a supportive role is remarkable. That he is a fine soloist is beyond doubt. His palette is awash with the soft hues of many colors. He plays with great sensitivity, with phrases and lines that flow in whorls and ever widening circles. His approach to song is holistic, seemingly one that emerges from a beguiling place where he hears all music in the totality of the soundscape where it exists as if in an entirely fluid state.
Some of these turn the melodies inside out—Jobim’s “Insensatez,” a duet with the ethereal voice of Gretchen Parlato is one such. He can be puckish and play also with a wry, bouncy sense of humour: The breezy track, “Santa Morena,” played with mandolin wizard, Mike Marshall and Hermeto Pascoal’s spectacular; “February 1” with Anat Cohen is another. Frequently he reinvent melodies by diving in to a magical space and emerging with ideas that seemed impossible until now: Two fine examples of this are “Aquelas Coisas Todas,” with the deep brooding and yet sensuous tenor saxophone of David Sanchez and Moacir Santos’ classic, “April Child,” which is bravely and completely re-imagined with the impossibly brilliant sound of Vittor Santos’ trombone. But the most remarkable tracks of all are those that appear to be almost completely spontaneous inventions. “Veja o Som” with Airto Moreira’s remarkable volley of sounds of nature, including his primordial voice, the haunting “Sonora Garoa” with the magnificent voice of Mônica Salmaso and the ethereally beautiful “Cruzando o Sertão” with the percussionist, Luiz Guello are the crowning glory of the whole project.
Surely this must be one of Jovino Santos Neto’s most remarkable albums. It certainly is a wonderful follow-up to that spectacular piano duet album he did with Weber Iago for the same label, Live at Caramoor, where his pianism was just as spectacular. Here, however, Santos Neto is driven to invent with a remarkable array of musicians, especially voice artists, something Brasil has a surfeit of. Whatever will the pianist be up to next? Perhaps an album with the great Hermeto Pascoal, with whom Santos Neto spent time as Director of Music, would be the only thing that could cap this experience.
Tracks: CD1: Aquelas Coisas Todas (All of Those Things); Santa Morena (Dark-skinned Saint); Insensatez (How Insensitive); O Que Vier Eu Traço (Bring it On); Caminhos Cruzados (Crossed Paths); Veja o Som (See the Sound); Flor de Lis (Upside Down); February 1; Gloria; Nature Boy; CD2: Ahlê Sonora Garoa (Sonorous Drizzle); Morro Velho (Old Mountain); Cruzando o Sertão (Crossing the Hinterland); Feira de Mangaio (Street Bazaar); Canção do Amanhecer (The Dawn Song); April Child; Joana Francesa (Joana the Frenchwoman); Canto de Xangô (Xangô Chant); Alegre Menina (Gabriela’s Song).
Personnel: Jovino Santos Neto: piano, bamboo flute, flute, melodica; David Sanchez: tenor saxophone; Mike Marshall: mandocello, mandolin; Gretchen Parlato: voice; Paquito D’Rivera: C clarinet; Bill Frisell: electric guitar; Airto Moreira: voice, percussion; Tom Lellis: voice, shaker; Anat Cohen: soprano saxophone; Danilo Brito: mandolin; Joe Locke: vibraphone; João Donato: electric piano; Mônica Salmaso: voice; Ricardo Silveira: acoustic guitar; Luiz Guello: Pandeiro, effects, congas, djembe; Toninho Ferragutti: accordion; Joyce Moreno: voice; Vittor Santos: trombone; Paula Morelenbaum: voice; Gabriel Grossi: harmonica; Teco Cardoso: flutes.
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Jovino Santos Neto on the web: www.jovisan.net
Review written by: Raul da Gama
Samuel Torres – Yaoundé (Self Produced – 2010)
For the spirits to materialise when they are summoned in worship the practice of the worship must reach a level of intensity—get to the blue part of the flame, so to speak—and arouse the angels and God as well to come down and bless the worshippers a million-fold. When David played his harp, so intense was his music that Samuel was inspired to anoint him King. Now it is the turn of another Samuel, not to anoint, but to call up the angels and saints and to placate God to bring peace and happiness and to look kindly upon his people… He calls with deep intensity and does not let up throughout Yaoundé, a masterful supplication in various parts. The Samuel in question is Samuel Torres, that Colombian percussion colorist, who directs the proceedings and, in doing so, also draws in everyone who hears the echo of the congas and chekere and Llaneras, kalimba and caxixis… And the spirits and Saints, at least, are moved to bless this project.
The magnificent ablutions begin with “Un Atardecer en Cartagena de Indias” and continue through “Oye,” but it is only when the music of “Yaoundé” heats up that the real entrancement begins. Bassist, John Benitez is superb here as is pianist, Manuel Valera who play in deep sympathy with Torres to make the initial supplication—like the beginning of a Santeria séance. From then on, things are almost trance-like. Torres excels again in his conga master class, “Tumaco” and a sensuous melt down of sorts occurs in the beautiful Bambuco Colombiano, the riveting “Bambuco (To Santa Fe de Bogota). Played in a magnetic meter of 6/8 and creating a hypnotic swagger, Torres revives an old Colombian Polska to cool things down.
Torres’ next agenda is more personal. His music now addresses private blessings and with superb attention to detail he brings the mastery of saxophonist Joel Frahm, brass player, Michael Rodriguez and pianist Manuel Valera together for the next part of the spirit awakening. Here, though Torres directs his music to the blessing of small things—everything that the Lord made. Much of the music is an exaltation of personal relationships. The love of an artist who is concerned about the state of human condition. Torres proves himself to be a very committed artist here.
As a percussionist, Samuel Torres is not classical. His cut and slash is daring and he uses his gnarled palms to make the skins talk. His taps with the tips of his hands and the resonating howl brought forth by cupped palms is astounding. He can make almost vocal insinuations with his various small percussion instruments and his use of the Llaneras and various chekere and caxixis is both votive and melodic. It would be remiss not to mention also the fine addition of Anat Cohen, whose woody, breathtaking round sounds on “Macondo” are short, yet memorable.
Torres has certainly attempted something really ambitious. To the extent that he has managed to maintain the level of energy that is required conducting a sort of ritual prayer and cleansing, this album hold up at most levels. It bears listening over and over again and like the skin of an onion, more meaning is revealed as the music leads the listener closer to the center of its being.
Tracks: Un Atardecer en Cartagena de Indias; Oye; Yaoundé Tumaco; Bambuco (To Santa Fe de Bogota); Cosita Rica – The Richness of Small Things; La Niña en el Agua – The Girl in the Water (To my love Larita); Macondo (Para Lucho Bermúdez); Ronca el Canalete; Lincoln Tunnel; Rio Magdalena; A Rose (To my grandmother); Chia – The Moon Goddess (La diosa Luna); Camino del Barrio (To my uncle Edy Martinez and all the Musicians from the Golden Era of Salsa in NY).
Personnel: Samuel Torres: congas, kalimba, cajon, Mexican Llaneras, udu, djembe, tambor alegre, guache, Colombian tambora, talking drum, shakers, shakere, cowbell, Brasilian caxixis, African Ago-go, LP lu-bar chimes, percussion effects; Joel Frahm: tenor, soprano saxophones; Michael Rodriguez: trumpet, flugelhorn; Manuel Valera: piano, Fender Rhodes, Nord Keyboards, John Benitez: acoustic, electric basses; Ernesto Simpson: drums; Anat Cohen: clarinet (8); Ralph Irizarry: timbal (10, 14); Sofia Rei Koutsovitis: vocal (9); Andrés Garcia: Colombian Tiple (5).
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Samuel Torres on the web: www.samueltorres.com
Review written by: Raul da Gama
Sofia Tosello – Alma y Luna (Sunnyside Records 2009)
There is a story that bears telling about Brasilian musician and multi-instrumentalist, Egberto Gismonti and his legendary teacher, Nadia Boulanger. Upon hearing him and evaluating his technique and his knowledge of harmonic devices, the story goes that Madame Boulanger said to Gismonti, “Go back and master the music of your country. This will unlock your voice and the world will then hear you.” Gismonti returned to Brasil, spent years in the remotest parts of that country and has produced some of the most memorable music.
The same celebrated teacher did not give Sophia Tosello the same advice, but she may have had a celebrated learning regimen of her own. In addition, the benefit of Sheila Jordan – a great vocal musician and teacher in her own right. Alma y Luna is a result of all of that – a by-product of all the music that came before her and poured itself into her soul. Tosello grew up listening to her parents’ collection and this consisted of significant Brasilian artists: Cataeno Veloso and Gal Costa. Then there the great Chilean, Mercedes Sosa, the American legend: Duke Ellington, and soul brother, Luthor Vandross and no doubt a host of others. Then Tosello had instruction from Sheila Jordan, a legend, if ever you could call a living vocalist that. Jordan did not simply unlock Tosello’s voice; she woke up the young singer’s soul.
Jordan must have taught her how to control breath, how to recognize sorrow and joy – and how to express them separately or in shades of both, together. With deep blue indigo quarter tomes, Sofia Tosello is heard to be doing just this on “Me Falta la Imaginacion.” Tosello shreds the emotion with such sadness and so sharply that the words cut right through the heart. “Mi Musita Salteña” picks up the mood slightly as here the zamba demands a brighter, more confident mood and Tosello delivers this in a dizzying, spiral kind of dancing manner that is edifying and resonant.
Sofia Tosello can manipulate her voice—bend it and hold it back, choke and uncoil with tremulous ferocity (“Sin Piel”) and this stands her in good stead throughout the record. When addressing theses that may be slightly beyond her age, she digs deep into her lungs and delivers words with sublime authority and ravishing sensuality. The instrumentation –especially the guitars of Miguel Rivaynera, Pavel Urkiza and the great Aquiles Baez—add superb color and majestic timbral values to the soaring voice of Tosello.
It is entirely possible that Sofia Tosello will choose to explore more contemporary song forms. Alma y Luna, despite its edgy intent, stays in the relatively safe confines of folk classics in a realm that echoes Afro-American musical idioms. The choice is one a maturing Sofia Tosello will have to make. Whatever she chooses to do the music is certain to be edgy, graceful and brimming with thrilling highs.
Tracks: La Clarosa Cruz; La Seca; La Verdadera Llama; Que Bonito; Me Falta la Imaginacion; Mi Musita Salteña; Sin Piel; Nacida en Agua de Guerra; Alma y Luna; Zambita Pa Mi Coyita; Nada; Sentirme Libre Contigo; Caminos Del Cielo.
Personnel: Sofia Tosello: lead vocals; Julio Santillan: guitar, background vocals; Jorge Roeder: double bass (1, 4) Yayo Serka; bombo leguero (1, 6), drums (3, 5, 6, 7), darbuka, Cajon (7). palmas; Raul Lavadez: accordion, palmas; Pablo Farhat: violin (1); Miguel Rivaynera: palmas (1), guitar (2, 7, 8, 11); Raul Lavedenz: accordion (2), palmas (1); Pedro Giraudo: double bass (2, 6, 10) Franco Pinna: percussion set, bombo leguero (2); Pavel Urkiza: guitar (3, 9, 10), vocals (13), background vocals 3, 9), palmas (9); Yunior Terry: double bass (3, 9, 12, 13), vocals (12), Yayo Serka: drums, darbuka; Mauricio Herrera: congas; djembe, guiro, timbales (12), congas, Darburka; Ramiro ‘Capi’ Nieva: Zampoña; Dyan Abad: trombone (3, 13); Byron Ramos: electric guitar; Aquiles Baez: guitar (4, 6, 10) Anat Cohen: clarinet (3); Jair Salas: cajon; Yosvanny Terry: soprano saxophone (5, 9), alto saxophone, chekere (13): Osmany Parades: piano (5); Ignacio Freijo: Quena; Rob Curto: accordeon; Hector del Curto: bandoneon; Rafi Michale: trombone (11); Albert Leusink: trumpet (11); Axel Tosca: piano, Wurlitzer; Byron Ramos: electric guitar (12).
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Sofia Tosello on the web: www.sofiatosello.com
Review written by: Raul da Gama
Latin Jazz Network Radio – Jukebox – November 2009 Playlist
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The Odyssey of Anat Cohen
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Feature written by: Raul da Gama
We are all – man and woman, child and beast – pilgrims here on earth. No matter where or when we are born, or where we live. No matter what we do for a living or where we worship. We migrate chronologically from a body with a finite age to another with a newly finite age. Or we may migrate geographically from one end of the earth to another – a tropical landmass to a temperate one…
And time unfolds in a linear spiral as we participate in the odyssey of our life. And in journeying so, we remember old things voices from the past and songs sung by our anscestors. The dances we danced; the psalms we sang. As we worshiped we carried the spirit in us – sometimes comatose until it woke us up again. Then it opened our mind’s eye as we shape-shifted into beings of our new culture and civilizations.
Ours is the Human Diaspora that came forth from the breath of God as Pithecanthropus Erectus walked on twos and began the first odyssey that would no one could stop. We moved in fear and joy. We heard the cry and danced towards it. We moved to the beat of the log drum and the trees rustling in the wind. We mimiced the sounds that we heard and soon we strung sounds together as we best could remember the songs of the wind and the dance of the animals we raised. The heavens became the design guide: stars like necklaces, sounds like the stars like necklaces. Drums we beat as we hunted and gathered. Drums we beat as we settled and defended our desolate hamlets… our homes… against plundering hoardes and savage invaders of the heart.
And then as we conquered and hurtled through time and space – top new land and new space we sometimes forgot joy and remembered only sorrow. And then we longed for a place where we could live without fear of being dispossessed. So we began to journey again. Sometimes we did so in our heads; at other times in our hearts and souls. Our ships were real and imagined. Sails billowed on swart ships, no matter what where the wind brought us. We had journeyed again transported perhaps – out of body – into the spirit world. The Human Diaspora on the inevitable and unstoppable move again.
This time we managed to bring not just the voices of strugglers from the desert, but we also remembered the psalms of old, of our flight through the long night into the bright sunlight. And we remembered the songs of our ancestors and fashioned reeds – brass and horns to play them and remember the minute details of the journey, this exodus froim a long night into the light of a glorious day.
We remembered and glorified everything in poem, song and dance… we remembered the lion and the cobra. And we played and sang and exhalted the triumph of the journey – griot and priest, painter and poet… trobadour and musician. Our reeds were aflame with the excitement of adventure and the stories to tell of the spirits whom we met and of our trials and tribulations and of our blues and, soon of our joys as well.
The poem and the song and the dance was indellibly imprinted on the canvas of that painting became the mirror. The poem and the song and the dance became the enactment of the saeta, and the alegria in the soul. The history of a people recorded in art. John Coltrane recorded this in A Love Supreme and Meditations and in Ascension in “The Father, Son and The Holy Ghost.” Mingus saw it all as he crafted “Meditations on Integration.” And then Alice Coltrane re-discovered the road less travelled when she was inspired to write and record Journey to Sacchitananda. Let’s not forget Pharoah Sanders’ Journey to Love, Tembi and Journey to Home.
And let’s remember Anat Cohen, who emerged from behind the curtain of the Human Diaspora like a secret wind rustling up some rhythmic magic as she wielded a gleaming black clarinet or a warmly glowing tenor saxophone. She sang in her pied piper voice soft and wafting on a flue of air firm and without much vibrato. The woody lyrical inflections of the notes of her clarinet hung heavy, suggestive and breathlessly sensuous. A quick switch to tenor and the notes, phrases and long loping lines turned more granular as she came close to groaning the blues and growling an apocalyptic shout. Her soprano wail could be high and mighty. But then down she would swoop down to earth painting a narrative picture of the home she had left behind… saudades and a promise of alegria when she returned – albeit in her mind’s eye – to a house on a hill, perhaps…
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A cry of longing
In addition, when the music moved her to tears she could capture in quick sketches, with gusting breath and sinewy elegance her journey from the land of her birth to the land promised to her should she choose to sound a prophetic phrase in praise of this human migration. This she chose to do in the idiom of The Music forever inflected with the unmistakable ululation of the weeping desert wind as it blew uncertainly across that beautiful land.
Something unique has happened here. I have been touched not just by the sounds of Cohen’s music – I have been touched by the hidden spirit guides as the notes sound solitarily, in the synchopated syntax that tumbles wistfully from the horn of the tenor, accenting the melancholy with the odd flurry of notes that daly and hang with magical sadness. “Place and Time” is a song that comes from Anat Cohen’s first eponymously entitled first record as leader. The choice of instrument sings boldly of a long journey taken, away from home. The possibility of not looking back, much less looking back looms large in the melody with moves from wistfullness to bright resolution.
I discovered recently – about a decade ago – that my friend from the toddler days of childhood, Julian Askenazey and his sister Becky were my only connection with my favorite part of Israel. I found that my late aunt Margot Barenboim had been a child of Auschwitz. A soldier of the guard was moved by her and helped her to escape. She found her way to England, married my father’s brother and that gave me the closest bloodline to Israel. My Israeli family continues to live in the Sinai and because the paternal side of my family is Brasilian I am sure that my cousins there understand the true meaning – Biblical or otherwise – of saudades and of alegria and the chorinho will instantly echo in their hearts when the moon carries a song there.
Place and Time has a special place in my heart and soul. It is all about that first and final wrench away from the blood of the land that nurtured your human soul. In 1999 Anat Cohen took this soul and opened her innermost, heartfelt feelings to it. Her soul was in bloom. Cohen was able to become the channel for its yearnings, memories and bright beacons that shed light on the way forward.
Tellingly – and this is something many miss – the music that swirls around the land of Isreal/Palestine/Holy Land, whatever you want to call it – Oasis of Peace – is what I prefer having imbibed its ancient history and vivid spirit for thirteen years. What we miss is that rich confluence of cultural interaction that has always been alive for thousands of years before we allowed ourselves to become brainwashed – slaves to colonialism. We forgot, for instance the 12 tribes who gathered here brought riches beyond imagination. As the Diaspora gathered there came song praise from early European music, then Ethopian and more African and also India – as that part of the diaspora grew… folk music from far and wide – as north as Russia and as Far west as Latin America.
In this stew, Anat Cohen has an epiphany: the musician communed with a Sufi master, a saint and musician who positted that “Rhythm cannot exist without tone, nor tone without rhythm. They are interdependent from their existence, and it is the same with time and space,” said the great Hazrat Inayat Khan.
This might not be obvious in Anat Cohen’s music at the first listening. But then soon “Place and Time” gives over to “The 7th of March,” a song conceived with heavy heart and a gentle eulogy. It is undeniably a dirge that provokes a lump in the throat just as does “Goodbye Porkpie Hat.” There is also a certain warmth and empathy that swathes Cohen for song from faraway Cuba – “Veinte Años.” The elemental sadness of the inner melody translates almost imperceptably into Jewish folk music. And “Homeland” contains music that breathes heavily with the unmistakable feeling of “saudades.”
Even in the delightful “Bat-El,” a musical portrait of a childhood friend, the returns to improvised parts at the end of the song, surprisingly, beautifully and most tantalisingly beautiful, you sense a reluctance to let go, until the fade away of the reeds in the wind suggest a complete turnaround.
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Exploring the poetry of sound
Poetica, that daring record perhaps started as something tongue-in-cheek, by her own admission. Kept apart from that svelte, woody sound that Anat Cohen loved as a young musician finding her voice. Cohen took the proverbial leap into the unknown: To do a record expressing herself – her new, accelerating confidence in an instrument that perhaps best captured the sound she envisioned a human voice to be. This is a journey that Cohen undertakes completely with a clarinet.
The repertoire that is chosen for the occasion is truly inspired, though not so much the almost ethereal presence of the clarinet in tone and manner throughout the record. First off, here is an instrument that seems to capture – in its hot and sometimes softly granular tone – the enigma of departures and arrivals especially out of the desert. Admittedly it was almost a decade away from the land of her birth. But some memories sleep deep in the mind of the brain and these may awaken at the simple recollection of the salty smell of the sea tumbling in harness. And then there is the rustle of palms dry and dusty from a hot sandy wind, or simply the memory of an old hag singing to her crying child… as a familiar melody escapes through lips that hide a toothless mouth.
This is what sets Poetica apart. As a musical document, it describes the exquisite poetry of nostalgia, of a life left behind, but not forgotten. The repertoire is a collection of old songs that Cohen literally “cries” out of her clarinet. “Agada Yapanit (A Japanese Tale)” is a sweeping molten water color of a song that waxes and wanes lyrically and remains like a moist parchment long after the last notes fade. “Hofim (Beaches)” and “Nigunim (Melodies)” recall a simple life of such ethreal beauty that the music is almost glacial in its depicting of the scenes. “Eyn Gedi,” that sweeping visual – complete with the string quartet – almost brings with it fine red sand that gently stings the face before the cool of the evening sets in.
Poetica is also the record where the caravans of migrating cultures collide. Whether it be the paths France of old lovers crossing in Jacques Brel’s “La Chanson des Vieux Amants,” Anat Cohen observes and comments with superb sensitivity. Similarly, Cohen finds a perfect timbral expression for the longing for loves paths to cross in the heat of Brasil with Nelson Cavaquinho’s “Quando Eu Me Saudade,” as she breathlessly brings this longing to an almost spiritual resolution.
It all comes together in the pianistic excursions of Jason Lindner, anchored by Omer Avital on bass, with Daniel Freedman and Gilad sharing percussion duties. The gentle, ruminating drama of the event is perfectly captured in the whispering strings on some of the tracks that grace this memorable album.
By now the odyssey of Anat Cohen is taking a turn that will reveal a sharp new direction. For several years after her sojourn to the USA, she felt especially drawn to the music of South America – the Latin Diaspora with its dense cultural folliage, and Amazonian splendour that represented, in many ways, the collision of all cultures – old and new. Brasil, for instance became the melting pot of form and musical adventure. Finding that her sense of longing was reflected in the sense of “saudades” almost reflected the sense and expectation of parallel paths perhaps meeting at infinity.
The Choro seemed a perfect fit. And Anat Cohen dived in headfirst. Together with Pedro Ramos, Gustavo Dantas, Carlos Almeida and Ze Mauricio, Anat Cohen found a medium to express her inner sorrows and joys. After all, the “Chorinho” was a perfect setting to express the sense of loss (of home, albeit purposeful) and gain. Cohen could now tell the stories and share the innermost feelings in a form that allowed the greatest leeway and she sang this with great facility. The choro, “Cade a Chave,” that she wrote for the Choro Ensemble album, Nosso Tempo (Anzic, 2007) is a wonderful example of her fluency with the form.
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Through a glass darkly
A year earlier Anat Cohen had made what could very possibly be her most ambitious album to date – an orchestral feature Noir (Anzic, 2006), designed to display her incredibly diverse sensibilities and virtuosic skills on all the major saxophones (except the baritone) and the clarinet. The gorgeous sweep of the record has as much to do with the feeling for tonal coloration and sensitivity to the nuances of timbral magic that Oded Lev-Ari brought to the arrangements and their superb interpretation by a galaxy of stellar musicians, including Cohen’s elder siblings, trumpeter and flugelhorn player, Avishai and soprano saxophonist, Yuval. Noir traverses the musical idiom of the Mediterranean, Africa, Spain, Cuba, Brasil, and America. However, it is in the rhythms of Latin America that Cohen’s craft comes truly alive. That and this fact: Noir explores the darker elements of song – sadness, loss, unrequited love and longing – with an intensity that only lightened up because darkness-to-light is inevitable in Anat Cohen’s world. The interpretations of songs such as Johnny Griffin’s “Do It,” “Cry Me a River” and especially “You Never Told Me That You Care” is a complete surprise from the pen of Sun Ra and a Mingus favorite, Hobart Dobson. All music is open to a certain element of improvisation in the expression of the composers’ intent, but these tracks seem definitive in a realm so infinite, that it may be well nigh impossible to capture their beauty again.
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Braid (Anzic, 2007) was a project by the 3 Cohens. It fell somewhere in between Noir and Nosso Tempo, both of which were released in 2007, although the music on Noir was laid down almost a year earlier – a month before Braid was recorded. Braid is a confluence of three voices – the voices of the Cohens. All three – trumpeter and flugelhorn player, Avishai and soprano saxophonist, Yuval join Anat, who brings her tenor saxophone to this recording (and plays clarinet on one song). The record is a musical tapestry – almost a patchwork quilt – on which three disparate instruments and voices intersect using a variety of idioms. The melodic ingenuity of the musicians is beyond doubt, but it is the harmonic daring and the rhythmic creativity that makes the album unforgettable.
On “Freedom,” a song by Yuval Cohen, the group navigates a labyrinthine melody and the rapid rhythmic changes at blinding speed. They do so again on Avishai Cohen’s “Shoutin’ Low,” a riotous frolic in a myriad of tempos with no set pulse. Again, it bears mention that the Cohens shoot across the soundscape like stratospheric birds singing in criss crossing harmonies that rise and fall as they streak through the song. The track, based on the changes and harmonics of Dizzy Gillespie’s “Groovin’ High” is a masterpiece of altered changes. On Braid, the Cohens bump and grind, and strut their stuff delightfully. Anat Cohen opens out to display her warm, almost singing sound. Avishai Cohen inhabits the edge of the habitable universe of sound and can wax eloquent through a ballad with as much facility as he can roar through bebop rhythm. In addition, Yuval Cohen calls upon his muse with a full, round soprano saxophone tone. However, the record really soars when the three, with pianist Aaron Goldberg, bassist Omer Avital and the incredible Eric Harland on drums push hard at the convention of sound with contrapuntal ingenuity.
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With clave in her soul
It has been clear for some time now, that the clarinet and an array of saxophones, at the hands of Anat Cohen, are such powerful instruments that they can alter the state of mind. Such a phenomenon happened once again on Notes from the Village, her fourth and utterly bewitching record. Her reputation in the ocean of contemporary music long since established this part of her odyssey finds Anat Cohen on a rarified plane as she explores the entire breadth of the tonal values of the reeds and woodwinds. Her notes and phrases may take great spritely leaps, or may hang heavy with emotion. When she dapples some notes with splashes of subtle shades and rhythmic accents, she shows how she has mastered each instrument – twisting the yin and yang out of them. Anat Cohen has a clave hidden in her soul!
Notes from the Village occupies a large musical canvas. Cohen traverses a soundscape from the exuberant rhythms of Africa — “Washington Square Park” — with Jason Lindner’s piano and electronics and Gilad Hekselman’s guitar taking center-stage in the wildly exciting musical journey that criss-crosses the primal and the pastoral. “Until You’re In Love Again” contours a dirge-like mood from the depths of the soul, but ends up quite exultant in the end. Ernesto Lecuona’s mystical “Siboney” is a tour de force that channels the true heart of Cuban son. On John Coltrane’s exquisite ballad, “After The Rain,” arrangers Lindner and Cohen have slowed the tempo of the piece to reflect an almost glacial image of wet earth. In a masterstroke, Anat Cohen chose the bass clarinet to communicate a mood in which peace has returned to earth just as the water that returned to the skies. “J Blues” is gut wrenching, and elevating. Here Anat Cohen hits the bent, blue notes with elemental sadness as Lindner and bassist Omer Avital solo with brilliant inventiveness.
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The record approaches its conclusion with a piercing, heart-stopping composition “Lullaby for the Native Ones,” a song so fraught with dynamic tension that is built with such precision by Cohen’s tenor saxophone that it literally explodes on the consciousness when it is done and the new arrangement of Sam Cooke’s “Change is Gonna Come” is almost a welcome relief! Moreover, just when you thought that the level of dynamism could not reach any greater height, Cohen and her group turn in a magnificently boppish version of the Fats Waller classic, “Jitterbug Waltz”. Played at a daring pace and with almost Mingus-like shifts in rhythm, this concluding track is perhaps the most extraordinary arrangement of Waller’s composition since Eric Dolphy turned it inside out in his iconic 60s version. Notes from the Village highlights the talent of Anat Cohen in a much smaller group setting than Noir, but the ocean of sound is magnificently expansive.
Every once and awhile – on every project she touches be it the records as leader, or her work with the Choro Ensemble, or even the fabulous 3 Cohens record she made – Anat Cohen provides a clue as to where we might find the joy of a soaring soul. It is a space where tone and rhythm come together – if not as one, then in a double helix. Therefore, intertwined, tone and rhythm become one molten whole in time and space, as the great Sufi musician proposed and found.
On Time and Place, it hovers and swirls about in the music of “The 7th of March” and in the lament, “Pour Toi.” On Poetica there is a whole cycle of songs, from “Hofim” to “Nigunim,” “Eyn Gedi” and “Agada Yapanit.” There is a subtle, but significant difference on Noir, where this soulful searching is everywhere. However, in Noir, that unity of time and space, tone and rhythm comes through on “You Never Told Me That You Care.” Braid has it and the song is “Tfila (Prayer).”
Finally in Notes from the Village, in the spiritual wandering of musician, as the ship comes ashore, you feel the magnificent Sufism of Anat Cohen almost omnipresent. It comes in waves – on “Until You’re In Love Again”and “Siboney.” Then it gets stronger and stronger – on tracks like “After the Rain” and becomes dynamically intense on “Lullaby for the Naïve Ones.”
The Odyssey is probably far from over, but in the music of Anat Cohen, especially in those elected to push her soul deeper into meaningful territory. Moreover, even though we all know that our limited minds and hearts cannot engage in the infinite possibilities of our individual journeys, we hear God, in the silence of our hearts, and as He whispers, we become aware that there are ways of reaching beyond ourselves. Anat Cohen certainly has and there is the music to testify. “I am seeking you, my soul is thirsting for you, my flesh is longing for you, Cohen’s musical voice may say, “… a land parched and weary and waterless may lie ahead – who knows – but I find you in that masterful union of tone and rhythm in time and space.
Anat Cohen on the web: www.anatcohen.com
Feature written by: Raul da Gama
Gabriel Espinosa – From Yucatan To Rio (Zoho Music 2009)
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The journey from Yucatan to Rio was a really smooth one. It was brimful with samba and bossa nova, with a little baroque thrown in probably the happy memory of a childhood resplendent withy the music of Bach and Vivaldi. And there is plenty of everything in evidence on the record that Gabriel Espinosa has produced to commemorate his spirit journey from the place of his birth to the place he dreams of harmoniously.
From Yucatan to Rio is a mellifluous musical expedition led by this mature bassist, who crafts his music with utmost confidence and grace, surrounded by a galaxy of stellar acolytes. And they sparkle – each bringing a glow to this record teeming with musical gems. Claudio Roditi seems to occupy a pivotal place here, and bassist Espinosa has created room for the trumpet and flugelhorn player to not only solo with fluidity, but also bond tight with alto saxophonist, George Robert (on most songs) as well as with clarinetist, Anat Cohen on “Nuevos Horizontes.”
Bassists are rather rare as bandleaders and – baring a few exceptions – they have chosen to drop their bull-violins in favor another instrument (a piano perhaps?) to leading from the front of the ensemble. Often this necessitated by the harmonic position that a bassist is required to hold in the lower end of the harmonic spectrum. Of course Mingus is the most prominent exception that comes to mind, although he also soloed sometimes. Unusually, Espinosa chooses not to solo, but does yeoman work in the depths of the lower registers. His ostinato passage on his arrangement of Jobim’s “Agua de Beber” is superb.
Espinosa also creates special room for his percussionists – shared by Antonio Sanchez and Adriano Santos, each on five of the tracks, with Dende playing everything that the drummers do not. Antonio Sanchez shows why he is a percussionist of choice for so much of a cross-section of session work today. His sensibility as a colorist knows no boundaries and when he crosses over – with a timeless solo in a samba, the effect is stunning. On “Klavier Latino,” Sanchez displays a majestic command over shading and accents as he romps ahead and behind the song’s inner tempo, finally breaking out with a clatter and rumble into a sensational solo supported by voices and ensemble.
Adriano Santos continues the proud tradition for men like Milton Banana, Wilson Dos Neves and Paulo Braga and his backbeat on Jobim’s “Agua de Beber” is flawless and rolls off the skins with alacrity. This song also features a fine vocal interpretation by the fabulous New York Voices – Darmon Meader and Kim Nazarian. Pianist, Helio Alves another bright Brasilian voice on the New York scene steps out – as he does several times throughout the record trading licks with the indefatigable Romero Lubambo as well as Roditi and Robert – on “LP 07” an unforgettable travelogue.
Anat Cohen lights up the crepuscular, “Nuevos Horizontes” with a warm, woody glissandos as she breaks out of the music with a solo that melts like butter dappling the song with gold. Alison Wedding appears to be part of the star power on this record as well. Not only is her writing fascinating, as evidenced on “We’ve Come Undone” and “Remain” but her interpretations remain some of the high points of the record as well. Her phrasing is svelte as she leaps across the melody in heart-stopping breaths.
Espinosa, it appears here, is showcasing not his virtuoso side, but his composing ability and his fabulous arrangements. In this he appears to be quite simply a wonderful fit for the emotive music of Brasil and this is more than merely a superficial feeling. The depth of emotion of his music is truly touching and that is why the Brasilian theme works even though it is a relatively sedate rhythmic excursion.
Tracks: Agua De Beber; Klavier Latino; LP 07; We’ve Come Undone; Nuevos Horizontes; Morning Breeze; Azul Y Negro; Remain; Maria; Huracan.
Personnel: Gabriel Espinosa: bass, background vocals; Claudio Roditi: trumpet, flugelhorn; George Robert: alto saxophone; Helio Alves: piano, keyboards; Alison Wedding: lead vocals (4, 8), background vocals (2, 9), alto (1); Antonio Sanchez: drums (2, 5, 6, 8, 9); Adriano Santos: drums (1, 3, 4, 7, 10); Darmon Meader: (vocals (1); Kim Nazarian: vocals (1); Anat Cohen: clarinet (5); Romero Lubambo: guitar (3, 4, 6, 8, 9); Dende: percussion; Patricio Espinosa: background vocals (9).
Gabriel Espinosa on the web: www.myspace.com/gabrielespinosafromyucatantorio
Review written by: Raul da Gama
