Saxophonist, clarinetist, and pianist
Joe Maneri, the man who as educator at the New England Conservatory introduced microtones to at least a few generations of young American musicians, engages here in a set of spirited improvisational dialogues with son
Mat on electric six-string and baritone violin and
Barre Phillips on five-string double bass. The two elder statesmen and the relative youngster are highly empathetic collaborators on these excursions, which fall somewhere between free jazz and experimental chamber music. While all three musicians are given equal prominence in the mix,
Joe usually leads the way, with the violin and bass used to comment on or embellish the reedman's liquid phrases. Much of the improvisation floats freely in space, as slippery sax or clarinet lines intertwine with the moody arco of the unconventional strings. There is considerable variety as well, with squawks, smears, overtones, and percussive bowing all part of the expressive palette.
Joe's piano interjects a few
Misha Mengelberg-styled fractured
Monk-isms into "When the Ship Went Down"; in "Nelgat," the pianisms are generally sparser and more atmospheric. "The Field" and "A Long Way From Home" (the CD's lengthiest track, clocking in at over 13 minutes) find
Joe on clarinet, at once keening and then etching sonic squiggles in the air. "The Aftermath" features
Phillips and
Mat in a spacious duet, pulling dark notes out of silence. "Elma My Dear," a duet with
Phillips and
Joe on tenor, begins calmly enough but moves through tension-filled episodes, before a tentative reconciliation is suggested. At several points in the CD,
Joe, the former street preacher, steps out with vocal recitations that flirt with the
Phil Minton school of Dadaist absurdism.
Joe's private language, delivered with disarming emotional directness, actually conceals allusions to artistic pioneers both musical and literary. Tales of Rohnlief is music for the adventurous listener with time to savor its subtleties. But those with ears tuned to more conventional musical rules should still find plenty of beauty, warmth, and even humor in this recording. ~ Dave Lynch