John Bence – Love / Dirar Kalash – Of Quietude

Thrill Jockey

There are a lot of solo piano artists around at the moment and a few of them have been covered in the reviews section on this fine website; but where things begin to turn interesting is in the realms of the improv piano player, where the rules are suspended temporarily and the playing is dictated by emotion and impression. Here we have two very different takes on this style, both of which show the personality of the artist.

The ever genre-defying Thrill Jockey have chosen to release the latest album by Bristol artist John Bence and his take on improv piano is a whirlwind of miniature tracks that breezes through in a little over twenty minutes, not that you would necessarily realise. His full and vibrant keyboard use and deft rush through light and shade finds dual notes leaping out at the listener.

The notes seem to stomp and leer, waiting for a response, while the piano itself sounds sweet, and some pieces like “Dawn” can descend into pretty, almost jaunty sections that then scurry away as if shocked. The way that the sparkling, resonant high notes mingle with the almost funereal, decaying deep notes on “Sleeping Under The Sky” is a real treat.

“Thekla Kiss” replicates the unfurling of spring flowers in its wide-eyed wonder, whereas “Virginity” is a bit like a boxing match in that sense of notes sparring, but with no knowing how one will react to it predecessor. Each track feels like a very different though fleeting mood of the creator, who seems unable to settle, moving from the whimsical to moments of great clarity at the flick of a switch.

None of this is really filmic as it moves too quickly, is too active with the lack of obvious chords, and the desire to pursue the connection of notes making any slower studies more surprising, Love is a pretty impressive offering.

Discus

On the other hand, Discus has released an album by Palestinian improv player Dirar Kalash, somebody for whom the opportunities for playing at all in his native land are few and far between, let alone performing live. Fortune prevailed and brought him across to the UK and he had the chance to play and record at the University of Huddersfield. This document of that opportunity is an extraordinary work.

The first thing you notice about Of Quietude is the space that lingers between the notes, as if their selection is a matter of great decision. There is a thorough examination of the keyboard as if it were a palette, studying the canvas and trying to figure how to connect the strokes. This provides an inkling to his thought processes.

You can almost feel those processes as some notes are left to decay while others are torn off in their prime, like a misstep. It feels like an evolution that requires the long duration of the two pieces here to fully uncover their meaning. There is sudden insight and then darkness and some repetition, but with subtle, nuanced variations and no small amount of suspense, the repeated high notes providing drama.

The second piece includes the plucking of the strings and some thunderous rolls with a slight shift in structure. There is an intensity to the strings, some sounds appearing smaller and more distant with a softness to the damped notes and some repetition appearing as if from a mist. The repetition here is tantalising; for how long will it continue and into what avenue will it lead? You feel there is a little more deliberation; but when the sustain rolls, the empty auditorium seems to flicker into focus and you could hear a pin drop.

At other points, it is like following somebody down a dark path with the terrain constantly changing and you areunable to see properly, just allowing your guide to be your direction. The whole hour or so is great, but you have the feeling that Dirar didn’t really want to stop; and when you discover that he hasn’t touched a piano since this January recording, then it gives even more poignancy. An essential album.

-Mr Olivetti-