Christian Wallumrød Ensemble: Many
Hubro

Developed over a four-year period, Many straddles multiple genres without aligning itself to one over another. While aspects of jazz are present, improvisation and soloing are downplayed; further to that, the free-spirited abandon heard in many a jazz performance is absent in the group's playing. Instead, the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble executes its leader's material with the formality of a classical chamber unit, and with all five members augmenting their primary instruments—Wallumrød on piano and harmonium, Eivind Lønning trumpet, Espen Reinertsen saxophone and recorder, Tove Törngren Brun cello, and Per Oddvar Johansen drums and vibraphone—with electronics, the group produces an electroacoustic palette that's lustrous and full. With a group so constitutionally genre-encompassing, no one should be surprised that the ensemble ventures into musique concrete and American minimalism during its seven-piece programme.

That minimalism dimension asserts itself when “Oh gorge” begins the album with cello, piano, and vibes arranged in staggered patterns of descending formation, electronic bloops and bleeps also part of the mix. The ensemble's chamber persona is evident during “50/80” in the patience with which chordal statements oscillate between groupings of piano and vibes and recorder, trumpet, and cello; an appreciation for silence is also present in the deployment of pauses between the statements, spaces that allow room for electronic embellishments to be heard. If “50/80” invites comparison to Morton Feldman, the stop-start rhythmning of “Danszaal” calls to mind the Steve Martland Band and its own rigorous attention to the late composer's charts.

Elsewhere, a woozy, almost sickly quality pervades “Abysm” in the glacial pitch-shifting that undergirds the harmonium-smeared dronescape, whereas the brief “Staccotta” punctuates a, naturally, monotone staccato pulse with plucked strings and other noises. If there's a go-to track here, it's arguably “El Johnton,” a fourteen-minute, episodic excursion that sidetracks from its plodding, piano-and-saxophone-driven intro into wide-ranging electronic explorations that sound like exhumed dispatches from the BBC Radiophonic Workshop.

Austerity, economy, and precision govern the ensemble's approach to playing, and, challenging conventional expectations about compositional development, the material embraces repetition to a conspicuous degree. The press release accompanying the album contends that “(n)othing else sounds like the Christian Wallumrød Ensemble, who in turn sound entirely themselves”—an apt characterization one would have a hard time arguing against given the evidence at hand. The impression left by the recording is of an adventurous unit hellbent on exploring any number of stylistic zones, commercial considerations be damned.

May 2020