JAZZ i NORGE - Arild R. Andersen

So beautiful, it starts to rain

John Butcher has been pioneering the field of free improvised saxophone playing for three decades now. He has occupied completely his own rooms in the house that Evan Parker built. The Englishman is very well known as a solo performer and has been concerned with making the venue itself a point in the musical, let the uniqueness of the venue be included in the expression itself. The album "Resonant spaces", which documents Butcher's performances in unconventional locations in Scotland and the Orkney Islands in 2006, is a gem. 

The saxophonist is also enthusiastic about the duo format that has shown to dress him in many contexts, and he has often chosen a drummer as a partner. Tony Buck, Gerry Hemingway, Eddie Prevost, Mark Sanders and not least Paal Nilssen-Love are names to mention. When John Butcher and Ståle Liavik Solberg now present "So beautiful, it starts to rain", they follow up a good tradition. Liavik Solberg is a solid improv professional and a musician with the ability to communicate with very different performers. That the Norwegian drummer plays with such different guitarists as Ryley Walker and John Russell, tells of versatility, vision and strong listening ability.

In collaboration with John Butcher, Liavik Solberg will use his entire register. The saxophonist covers the stretch between ongoing intensity and pure nudity. The contrasts are clear and the twists surprising. Butcher is concerned with the sound itself, what he can squeeze out of the soprano and tenor saxophone, and what we hear on the album, he has total ownership in. He snaps out phrases and utters notes. Butcher has a whole animal kingdom in the saxophones. He shares the touch in the estimate with Liavik Solberg, who also conducts sound production of a creative brand. The two mirror each other and fill the music with meaning through sharp communication. A painful expression from Butcher is softly received by Liavik Solberg's lazy cymbals. A rippling stream from the percussionist meets in the saxophone. Then you can ask if the two say something new! The answer is yes, all the time. Not in the sense that the field of expression itself is unique. It is in the details and the many combinations that the peculiarities offer themselves. It must have been a good summer evening at Cafe Oto in London when these recordings were made.

As a listener, I value the duo format highly. This is partly because it is clear and musicians refuse to hide. For the practitioners, it must be challenging for exactly the same reasons, while at the same time giving them the opportunity to show what they are made of. The format does not tolerate cheating. The three tracks «So beautiful», "It starts" and "To rain" spring out in their own way. This release strengthens me in the belief in the vitality and renewal ability of improvisational music.

JAZZ i NORGE - Arild R. Andersen

We met - and then

Three pillars – three generations

If I had been a drummer with an improvisational team, my dream would have been to play in a trio with John Butcher and Barre Phillips. At least it could have been one of those dreams. That's because these two hang so high and have a habit of articulating themselves both distinctly and credibly. As if they always have a story to tell and get to tell it with warm creativity. The quality I'm referring to is not to be mistaken. I've had the effect of it in me countless times. On the way home – "next station Tøyen" – filled with tonight's impro-musical lucky hits.

I also think that Barre Phillips and John Butcher should be happy that they get to play with Ståle Liavik Solberg. They may need a good listener and a drummer who can surprise them both. Someone who can hold back where the music asks for it and take the room where it presents itself. Make sounds that refresh. There is a tense string through the music the trio creates on "We met – and then". That's how the force makes itself known. It may as well be experienced in the low-key as in the loud. It is nerve and not volume that nourishes the experience of it.

Ståle Liavik Solberg and John Butcher did a duo concert in Munich in 2018. Barre Phillips, who had a new solo album on ECM to release, also played there. Then it would be like trio games as extra sets. On Blow Out! The three met again at the festival in 2019. There are recordings from these two concerts that can be heard on "We met – and then". The trio's music has many ways, a broad set of features and forms of expression. The language we hear is well known, but the way it lives is guided by the trio's poetic handmade and unified steps. As I sit and listen to the album, I'll remember a statement from Eddie Prevost: "Nothing is more dead than yesterday's improvisation. It can be found in Gary Peter's book "The Philosophy of Improvisation". Prevost reflects on what happens to the listener who is exposed to impro on record. Who gets to repeat the improvisation several times. And what happens to the music? Derek Bailey believed improvisation could be forgotten after it was played. Pointed, philosophical paradoxes from two sizes that have documented a lot of free impro.

I see the documented impro as an offer to dive. When I listen to "We met – and then", repeatedly, I come down into the nooks and crannies of music. Then it can open up differently than it might in the one meeting you get at a concert. I live very well with both varieties. There and then – and then. The good impro is friends with the repeat button. Butcher, Solberg and Phillips' spontaneous compositional abilities are so well developed that they carry many rounds. I find quality in the fact that the music experience changes character through the revolutions. In the fifth round of the track "Zero Tolerance", new hatches open. This trio's music can withstand the transcendence of the Ephemeral. yes, it suits it.

SALT PEANUTS - Eyal Hareuveni

We met - and then

Three pillars – three generations

"We meet - and then" is a meeting of three generations of imaginative free-improvisers - Phillips, who is credited with the first solo double bass album, "Journal Violone" (1968) will be 87 years old this year. Butcher is 67 years old and Solborg is 42 years old. These highly experienced improvisers are sonic alchemists, always thinking timbrally and tonally, and determined to liberate their instruments from common sonic conceptions.

Phillips, Butcher and Solborg are also deep listeners, attentive to any touch, vibration and breath of their comrades. The opening piece, the 18-minute of «- and then» demonstrates these qualities and flows naturally, in its own accord, and this trio shapes and shifts its poetic conversation with attempts to suggest enlightening sonic ambiguity. The dark, deep tones of Phillips' double bass melt organically into Butcher's ethereal drones, and Butcher's hums and bird-calls resonate into the fragmented rhythmic patterns of Solborg, who feeds, in his turn, intuitive rhythmic ideas to Phillips. Occasionally, all gravitate into sudden and tense, percussive gestures, but most of the time maintain a sparse, chamber and lyrical
atmosphere. The following «Zero Tolerance» maintains the sparse interplay but highlights the breadth of the sonic palette of this trio and its subversive but game-like dynamics. The last piece from the Blow Out Festival, "Chaudron Profond", is more melancholic and introspective. Phillips 'patient arco work is mirrored by Butcher's breaths and overtones, while Solborg adds delicate comments on the drums' skins, but suddenly this improvisation blossoms into an intense rhythmic dance.

Phillips opens the pieces from Offene Ohren with a most beautiful and lyrical bass solo «Traveling». Butcher and Solborg demonstrate again their immediate, almost telepathic and always surprising dynamics on the following «Vivid Inkling». The trio plays on «We met -» and as on the previous pieces, it takes its time, playing with sounds, and shaping and twisting its loose dynamics with a remarkable poetic sense of time and space

SPONTANEOUS MUSIC TRIBUNE - Andrzej Novak

At Kafé Kaeverk

The concert begins with modest blasts of a tenor saxophone. The cymbals tremble nearby, and the piano cooks up a small rhythm at the very bottom of the soundboard. The march of the relaxed but also fast-paced improvisers goes very freely, supported by the machinery of Kaja and Ståle, which seems to stick together into one post-percussion body. Here are the personally modified Czajka and Puchacz, known from another album, flowing in a fast stream at the feet of a large, wind-blown bird. In the middle of the 4th minute, the pianist begins to build something like a melody. Her flow seems to be both stylish and quick-witted, and theatrically bony. However, everything in this improvisation, every sound, every gesture of the musicians perfectly fits with each other, matching each other in terms of sound and drama. At times, Draksler focuses on preparations, and Butcher, full of resonance and admiration, leaves her a lot of space on the stage. Solberg goes on his own track, but constantly decorates the sounds of each partner with percussion gags. The trio pupates into occasional duets again and again. First it is a piano and percussion duo carried by a woman's sensitivity, then a male, truly fiery duo of saxophone and drums. There is also a moment for the prepared, lonely bursts of piano and an almost instant return to the duo formula - this time piano and saxophone. At the end of this almost 17-minute-long improvisation, we get an agile reunion of the entire trio.

The second improvisation focuses on the metaphysics of communing with silence. Blasts from a dry tube, percussion brushes, ambient reverb from piano. The beginning of the narrative proper comes from the preparation of the sounds of the latter instrument. Again, Solberg brings miracles to the story. The narrative wades in a duet and waits for the saxophone, which returns with a high bird scream. A few agile questions and answers, then the musicians take another step towards silence. Then we get a solo drummer exhibition, built extremely meticulously (bravo!). Soon after, Butcher flows in a delicate, yet rough soprano, while Draksler supports him with small passages on bare keys. The latter is again looking for twisted rhythmic solutions, shyly referring to the opening phrases of the concert. It's time for the last part, the shortest one, focused around Kaja's pianism. At first, the Slovenian girl seems to recall her many experiences in contemporary music. The drummer bravely supports her by serving another batch of surprising percussion solutions and biting into the flowing foam as best he can. The saxophone comes into play only in the fifth minute, as if it's ready - it serves us a beautiful dessert from under the muffled nozzles of the tenor saxophone. Solberg seems to be the one who tells the story on the final straight. The piano rings like a small bell and the saxophone puts a dot at the end of this unique concert. Bravo!

ALL ABOUT JAZZ- John Sharpe

Fictional Souvenirs

Free improvisers favor ephemeral lineups more than most musicians. They keep things fresh and present new challenges. But most improvisers are also fond of particular groupings or connections. That's definitely the case with the British pairing of saxophonist John Butcher, keyboardist and electronicist Pat Thomas and Norwegian drummer Stale Liavik Solberg. They have worked together in various constellations, such that Fictional Souvenirs might be seen as a follow up of sorts to His Flights At Ten  by a group which also included bassist Ingebrigt Håker Flaten and saxophonist Lotte Anker, or as an augmented version of the duo which made So Beautiful, It Starts To Rain  with the addition of Thomas.

So the palpable sense of listening and responding which pervades this live performance, recorded at London's Iklectik in summer 2017, might be expected. It betrays a degree of familiarity and trust. The three principals combine to fashion captivating narratives from unconventional means on six seat-of-the-pants confections. Who leads and who follows is open to debate at any given moment. They each judge whether to play or not and when to force the issue, which makes those times when they press foot to the floor, as towards the end of "Dust" and "The Effort And A Smile," all the more powerful.

Thomas forgoes the piano for electronics derived from his Moog theremini and iPad to purvey an endless selection of beeps, shimmers and thuds. The vocabulary doesn't really exist to describe the range of sounds he extracts. It's the same with Butcher, who has forged an audacious personal language from the precise control of overtones and multiphonics. At times the saxophonist recalls the late Steve Lacy in the way he constructs his improvisation by reiterating a certain phrase then switching abruptly to a different repeated cell. His shifts often provide the signal for his partners to change tack too. Solberg is especially sensitive in this regard, and his insistent pulses provide a further layer of substructure to the music.

After a conversational opening, "Dust" settles into an unbroken stream of quacking metallic-edged soprano phrases against Thomas' repetitive scuffle, which is given an inspired lift when Solberg kicks in on the final straight. By contrast "Heartaches" is notable for its restraint. Butcher adopts a variety of approaches on the concluding "Keys," first proposing a two-note question in call/response to Thomas' rejoinders, and then later offering a jaunty retort to Solberg's rat-a-tat, before they all move swiftly on to the more abstract exchange, which characterizes this accomplished outing.

SPONTANEOUS MUSIC TRIBUNE - Andrzej Novak

At Kafé Kaeverk

The concert begins with modest blasts of a tenor saxophone. The cymbals tremble nearby, and the piano cooks up a small rhythm at the very bottom of the soundboard. The march of the relaxed but also fast-paced improvisers goes very freely, supported by the machinery of Kaja and Ståle, which seems to stick together into one post-percussion body. Here are the personally modified Czajka and Puchacz, known from another album, flowing in a fast stream at the feet of a large, wind-blown bird. In the middle of the 4th minute, the pianist begins to build something like a melody. Her flow seems to be both stylish and quick-witted, and theatrically bony. However, everything in this improvisation, every sound, every gesture of the musicians perfectly fits with each other, matching each other in terms of sound and drama. At times, Draksler focuses on preparations, and Butcher, full of resonance and admiration, leaves her a lot of space on the stage. Solberg goes on his own track, but constantly decorates the sounds of each partner with percussion gags. The trio pupates into occasional duets again and again. First it is a piano and percussion duo carried by a woman's sensitivity, then a male, truly fiery duo of saxophone and drums. There is also a moment for the prepared, lonely bursts of piano and an almost instant return to the duo formula - this time piano and saxophone. At the end of this almost 17-minute-long improvisation, we get an agile reunion of the entire trio.

The second improvisation focuses on the metaphysics of communing with silence. Blasts from a dry tube, percussion brushes, ambient reverb from piano. The beginning of the narrative proper comes from the preparation of the sounds of the latter instrument. Again, Solberg brings miracles to the story. The narrative wades in a duet and waits for the saxophone, which returns with a high bird scream. A few agile questions and answers, then the musicians take another step towards silence. Then we get a solo drummer exhibition, built extremely meticulously (bravo!). Soon after, Butcher flows in a delicate, yet rough soprano, while Draksler supports him with small passages on bare keys. The latter is again looking for twisted rhythmic solutions, shyly referring to the opening phrases of the concert. It's time for the last part, the shortest one, focused around Kaja's pianism. At first, the Slovenian girl seems to recall her many experiences in contemporary music. The drummer bravely supports her by serving another batch of surprising percussion solutions and biting into the flowing foam as best he can. The saxophone comes into play only in the fifth minute, as if it's ready - it serves us a beautiful dessert from under the muffled nozzles of the tenor saxophone. Solberg seems to be the one who tells the story on the final straight. The piano rings like a small bell and the saxophone puts a dot at the end of this unique concert. Bravo!

JAZZWISE - Daniel Spicer

Fictional Souvenirs

Here's a session that seems preoccupied with space - in more ways than one. For one thing, unlike some other free-improv summits, the collective attention is as concerned with the spaces surrounding each musical gesture as it is with the ideas that fill them.
Tones and timbres emerge as meticulously formed packets of information, overlapping, complementing each other and leaving room for the full sonic diorama to make itself understood. It's mercifully uncluttered. At the same time, there's an ineffable touch of the cosmic at play - largely thanks to Pat Thomas's theremin and electronics adding a cheeky B-Movie twinkle that Sun Ra would have approved of.
Opening track, Dust, starts with astral whooshes and tweets before an electronic judder riff lifts off, encouraging high, looping tenor twirls from John Butcher and a louche free-jazz drum clatter from Ståle Liavik Solberg.
Other pieces make use of a more tentative deep-freeze crystal clarity - such as Heartaches with its rubbed friction percussion, pinprick electronics and barely sounded sax harmonics.
It's a leisurely excursion into the deep.

ALL ABOUT JAZZ - John Sharpe

Into Darkness

Two old masters and two younger pretenders unite to produce Into Darkness. Saxophonist John Butcher and guitarist John Russell were both part of the so-called second generation of improvisers, following in the wake of progenitors such as Evan Parker, Derek Bailey and John Stevens. Joining them in a continuous 51-minute live performance from London's Iklektic in December 2015 are bassist Dominic Lash and Norwegian drummer Ståle Liavik Solberg. In coming together under the moniker Stray, they decisively upend some stereotypical preconceptions about British free practice.

While the conversational "this-follows-and-answers-that" style of improv remains represented, particularly at the start of "I" and early on in "III," it is subverted by passages which revel in the density of the event. Much of that stems from Russell's wielding of electric rather than his customary acoustic guitar, as his use of FX-pedals ramps up his shimmers, whines and growls into the sort of excess more associated with downtown favorites such as Brandon Seabrook and Ava Mendoza. The others are not in any way cowed by the voltage and prove well able to thread their own forceful assertions into an invigorating whole. Butcher's astonishingly exact use of multiphonics often edges into electronic sonorities—even when he isn't using mics to manipulate feedback—blending pleasingly with Russell's amp-driven howls. At times it's hard to place the different sound sources, conjuring a slightly mysterious and distancing feel on disc which wouldn't have been apparent in concert.

Recognizable timbres, textures and personalities suddenly emerge from the vortex, like figures looming out of the fog. One successful gambit which recurs in "I" and "II" features Butcher holding forth against Russell's skronk, while Lash's throbbing, sinewy abrasions and Solberg's off-kilter clank create a lurching undertow. But such episodes don't signify a default climax, as the receptive interplay leads into other areas replete with collective pauses, as if taking the opportunity to both appraise and plot. One such moment arrives towards the end of "III" when Butcher's percolating circular-breathed whistle melds with Russell's evocation of a Saharan sandstorm, before leaving a wheezy panting punctuated with spacious plucks, taps and rattles until silence prevails.

FREE JAZZ BLOG - Eyal Hareuveni

Into Darkness

Into Darkness is Stray's debut album, recorded at Iklektik, London, in December 2015 and it features one, intense, 51-minutes free-improvisation. Stray wastes no time before entering an uncompromising, restless mode that leads the quartet into endlessly uncharted, labyrinthine territories, forcing all to shift and adapt strategies constantly. At first Stray sounds as if they are enjoying a non-hierarchical, muscular-propulsive free jazz moment, but then Russell’s distorted-noisy guitar interventions lead to more open and abstract textures, shifting the dense and intense interplay into contemplative, free-associative ones that stress Butcher's most lyrical and engaging side. Later, Russell and Butcher sketch a minimalist, poetic dance that occasionally boils to some explosive eruptions, but soon cools down into another series of fragmented and searching interplay. Finally, Russell leads Stray to an electric, stormy conclusion that propels everyone's sense of sonic invention and draws on ever deeper reservoirs of energy.

POINT OF DEPARTURE - Michael Rosenstein

Into Darkness

The group Stray brings together guitarist John Russell, saxophonist John Butcher, bassist Dominic Lash, and drummer Ståle Liavik Solberg for an extended 52-minute collective improvisation recorded live at Iklektik in London in December 2015. Russell has been a seminal part of the London free improvisation scene since the mid ‘70s and Butcher dove in during the early ‘80s, both working together for over three decades and individually in countless projects. Lash, has proved his mettle as a go-to bassist in a variety of settings: free jazz ensembles like The Convergence Quartet; collaborations with, among others, Alex Ward, Stefan Keune, and Tony Bevan; improvised settings with Mark Wastell’s The Seen or a trio with Axel Dörner and Roger Turner; performances of compositions by members of Wandelweiser or James Tenney to name just a few. Oslo-based Solberg has collaborated with both Russell and Butcher as well as players like Martin Küchen, Steve Beresford, and Joe McPhee. But these bona fides do little to prepare the listener for what happens when the quartet hits.

Things start out in familiar territory for those familiar with the members of the group. Russell’s dry guitar chords ring out against burred breathy tenor, rough-hewn arco, and spattered percussion. But at just a few minutes in, the energy starts to mount. Russell adds shades of distortion to his decidedly electric guitar tone, Butcher responds with long burly overtone-shaded notes, and Lash and Solberg stir things with clattering activity. Then Butcher digs in, with biting torrents of notes that recoil off of the guitarist’s feedback-tinged playing. From there, the four attack the improvisation with a feisty potency. These are all players well-versed in microscopic detail though, so they never get carried away with the brash energy of their playing. Instead, they probe and prod with carefully attuned collaboration.

This is some of Butcher’s brawniest playing in recent memory, drawing on his rough-hewn multiphonics and massive breath control to spill out vigorous lines on both tenor and soprano. Russell, a player mostly pegged for his acoustic playing, relishes the heft and coruscating blaze of electric guitar, leaning in with fuzz, grit, and abraded sustain. Lash digs in, his deep, full tone and propulsive momentum bounding across the spirited collective chemistry. Solberg is a canny participant, able to caterwaul along with lithe agility, darting around his kit with a keen ear for texture and timbral accent. The four build the improvisation around peaks of intensity that unfold into sections of more open interplay. When things drop to hushed detail about 35-minutes in, the subtle sonorities and granular detail each player brings to the proceedings is arresting. Then slowly, they layer on density, build dynamics, and charge to a shredding conclusion, rounding things off with minute kernels of breath, scraped strings, and percussive patter. Fine playing by all and a welcome glimpse at where the collective pushes each of these musicians.