Zorn Drawn
Hermetic Cartography, Cobra Live, and more from the NYC Jazz Scene.
Sup Lovers?
I’ve been hard at work on my latest book, set for release this July: Ready To Die for Xiu Xiu. I know I’m going on about it like a scratched record, but I am so freakin’ excited to release this beast. It features interviews with Jamie Stewart, Hyunhye “Angela” Seo, Shahzad Ismaily, Ches Smith, Greg Saunier, and Lawrence English, and maybe I sound a bit like Zorn when I say this, but “It is among the best work I have ever done.” The presales will be available from June and I'll pop sample chapters up online so y’all can check it out.
In the meantime, here are a couple more of my many stories from the Big Apple!
Satoko Fujii Tokyo Trio
IBeam, Brooklyn
Hidden away in the Brooklyn backstreets is IBeam: a studio space turned into a concert venue - the approximately six meter high walls are adorned with sound absorbing panels, one of which is painted with expressive thick explosive streaks of bold, dark black ink with drips and pops of red. It's a wonderful visual accompaniment to the free jazz performance, and tonight that happens to be the Tokyo Trio. This trio is led by Fujii whose passionate, articulate piano work is accentuated with abrupt stops, varied pedal work, and occasionally rubbing the strings with a wooden stick. She does this with one hand while playing lead with the other hand. Ascending melodies increase in tension and Fujii can be seen entering a focused trance-like state for the heavy, grand conclusion.
There are groovier, bouncy moments punctuated with obvious rests where the other musicians nod along as they keep count. At one point, the bass player bows two strings, plucking a third with a loose finger. It sounds great. Likewise, the drummer is also capable with a precise and relaxed swagger, occasionally peeking out from over the rims of his thinly-framed spectacles for a cue from Fujii.
Toes are wiggling and tapping along in the front row to the speedier pieces. Bruce Gallanter from Downtown Music Gallery is here, and he is getting SO into it! I can't see what's going on with the roughly twenty people behind me, but judging from the applause and general murmurs of appreciation, I believe this trio is a hit. Things start heating up and Fujii really lets rip with a fiery, fast solo. The bass player's solo follows, adorning his bass with a little percussive rattle that hangs loosely over the bridge and shakes subtly with the movement of the instrument as he plays it. These slight clicks are only apparent during the solo, and drowned out when the other instruments join in.
Fujii makes a comment about the space, having lost count of how many performances she has played here. Never solo, but once with a fifteen-piece orchestra. This is a pretty funny suggestion, as the stage does not appear conducive for a fifteen-piece orchestra, but this is not a problem for Fujii, who says: "I am Japanese, so for me there is enough space!"
I was so thrilled to be able to catch up in Park Slope with my very tall, very lovely saxophonist friend Phillip Dornbusch. Phillip is based in Berlin, but was spending some time in New York. On the way to the Jeremy Viner gig, we had a delightful little stroll through Prospect Park, comparing the differences between German and American culture. We both wholeheartedly agreed that Americans have perfected the art of “Slice Culture" or “going for a slice of pizza.” Phillip admitted that the Slice Culture in New York was even a little too good, and the steady diet of pizza and a coke was fast becoming a habit. I couldn’t blame him.
Anyway, Phillip makes brilliant music. His first album was shortlisted for Album of the Year at the German Jazz Prize, and he recently released an equally brilliant follow up. I can absolutely recommend this wonderful project of his, “Projektor.” Check out “Revolt” here:
2025-04-03 New York City
Bar Bayeux, Brooklyn
Jeremy Viner- saxophone
Tim Berne- saxophone
Drew Gress- bass
Kate Gentile- drums
Two saxophones, bass, and drums battle it out in the back of this seriously cute little bar. It's dark, squishy, and there is no cover charge to get in, but a hat will be passed around and patrons are encouraged to give generously. I am constantly shocked by how tiny these venues are. There can’t be more than twenty people here for the show and more at the bar drinking. These musicians are world class. They should be playing a philharmonic somewhere…
Jeremy and Tim are a great team up front, squonking along in a wonderful complimentary fashion. Drew and Kate are an exemplary rhythm section- Kate tosses her percussion accessories to the side as she grooves along, naturally. She is controlled and a joy to experience live. Drew is deeply focussed and in the zone. The cool breeze waffs in through the open courtyard door. The expensive-ass beer is also delicious. Drew bangs out a dark aggressive solo which totally rocks, as he saves his glasses from slipping off his face.
"Just as we rehearsed!” says Jeremy in jest, “They are good sight readers!" Of course, there were no sheets. It was all improv.
During the break I gave the artists bracelets, as usual. I made such a fabulous connection with Kate over the joy of multiple handshakes and hand signals. We made up "snail," "rocket," "squid" – I was so excited! The second set was considerably less packed than the first. Apparently it's not uncommon for people to bail early. I enjoyed another round of music, but I didn’t buy another beer.
One of the main reasons I had come to New York was to visit Johnnie’s Cartography exhibition, Hermetic Cartography. He had invited me to come check it out, and who would I be to turn down an invitation like that? When I arrived at the doors of the Drawing Center, there was a sign on the door that said it was closed due to the soundcheck of the night’s concert, which would be Cobra. I felt so stupid for not having arrived a little earlier so I could check out the exhibit, but just as I was about to kick myself, a woman came to the door and opened it. “Are you Sarah?” she asked. My eyes almost bugged outta my brain, “...yep?” “Come on in! You wanna put all your stuff upstairs with the musicians’?”
Somebody once told me that it was like I had been given a skeleton key to the New York scene. At this moment, I absolutely felt like this was the case.
I didn’t end up dumping my stuff because I wanted to have a look inside and check out some of the drawings, but I was a little bit nervous to peer around the corner. All I could hear, echoing through the reverberant walls of the gallery, was the unmistakable sound of John Zorn loudly motivating and encouraging his musicians, punctuated with swearing and laughter. Zorn’s famous Simulacrum design was the most prominent piece as you walk into the exhibition. It’s the one from the t-shirts so you recognise it straight away. There were other designs either side of it that appeared to be of a similar nature, some with a kind of gold or silver paint. I really enjoyed these markings, and compared to Johnnie’s more figurative drawings, I find these abstract works to be his most interesting. It’s no wonder they were in the most prominent position of the exhibition.
Unfortunately I did not get to see too much more of the works, because I was highly distracted by the fact that Zorn and his musicians were just on the other side of the wall…
I saw a couple of seats so I sneakily sat down and took out my notebook. He had his back to me and all the other musicians were around the corner, about to take their seats on the floor in a kind of pre-game huddle. Before he began to talk he glanced over and saw me sitting there. “Oh hey!” he called out and came over towards me, grinning. He gestured over to me acknowledging that I had arrived, “Is everything good? Ya good?” I nervously laughed and said: “Yeah!” Johnnie quickly returned to the musicians to start the pep-talk and run through the rules.
It took every ounce of my strength not to just whip out my phone and make a field recording. But karma was screaming at me not to do it… and so I didn’t. Instead, I began to write like a mad man. Pages and pages of notes, of all the quotes, of all the classic Johnnie-isms. Of the kinds of questions people asked. Of the responses he gave. Of the sounds I heard. The advice. When the soundcheck/practice run was finished he came over to me again, shook my hand and said: “Now ya can’t write about that! … Don’t write about it!”
“... but… I wrote like five pages!”
“That was just fer yew!” he proclaimed mightily, heading off to the backstage area, “Private stuff!”
I was simultaneously devastated and highly amused. Did he really care? Was he just playing up to the stereotype? Why would he invite me here if I can’t write about it?! At any rate, I couldn’t stop smiling at how funny it all was. I can respect the old boi's wishes to keep the behind the scenes stuff secret, so I have typed it up and archived it for the future. But I’ll be damned if I flew all this way to not talk about the fucking concert. ^_^
Photography of the show and exhibition was strictly prohibited. So naturally I didn’t take photos. But here’s a couple from someone who did and posted them online…
Live Concert Series - “Cobra”
2025-04-05 - The Drawing Center, New York City
Matt Hollenberg- guitar
Taylor Levine- guitar
Celine Kang- guitar
Simon Hanes- electric bass
Trevor Dunn- electric bass
Jay Campbell- cello
Henry Fraser- upright bass
Ikue Mori- electronics
David Weinstein- electronics
Sana Nagano- violin
Ches Smith- drums
Billy Martin- drums
William Winant- drums
John Zorn- prompter
The space is painted with dark denim-blue walls. There were cushions on the floor and a tonne of seats, but the floorplan of the gallery walls meant that some people were required to sit around corners. I felt quite privileged to have a seat up the front, where almost twenty seats were marked "Guest of John Zorn” on a sheet of paper. Most of these were pocketed as souvenirs by the guests who sat on them… yes. Naturally, I kept mine also. :-)
I was sitting right up the front with drummer Christian Lillinger, and guitarist Gordon Grdina to my right, a chatty but friendly playwright to my right, and Sally Gates (of Titan to Tachyons) just next to him. It was so exciting to be in such close proximity to so many wonderful musicians and artists. The vibe in the room was totally electric.
I was so hyped up by the commencement of the performance, I neglected to take any notes for the first piece. I guess I was just living in the moment; Zorn would be pleased to hear that I suppose…
The second piece contained one of my favourite moments of the set: Simon Hanes and Billy Martin’s samba interlude. Amidst the chaos Simon continuously put his hand up to keep bringing the piece back to this hilariously simple samba bass line of about three notes. It was clear that this basic groove amused him and he was giggling every time. I love this infectious playfulness among the musicians, and I think this is what makes Cobra so great. We all know what these fabulous musicians are capable of, and it’s not about trying to show off, per se. It’s just about being creative.
The third piece contained several cartoonish trades with Simon going guerilla over the top.
The fourth was a more avant-garde creation, with sparse percussion. One of the memories created was a dark sweeping bassline. Henry Fraser comes out of nowhere going guerilla - Zorn stands back and lets him; His dark, cracking bass, bowed over the bridge creating a soft, ambient almost doom/metal-like interlude. It’s something of a signature sound for Henry and it fits in so wonderfully here. This brief solo was a set highlight for me. Perfectly timed. A wonderful suggestion indeed!
During the fifth piece David Weinstein instigated a descending pitch bend which commanded the whole ensemble to follow. Zorn was obviously thrilled with the result – a kind of THX effect with massive intensity. The "memory" (in Cobra-speak) was stored as something to return to later, as it was a great one! Unfortunately David also opted to conclude the piece, which meant that the "memory" had to be deleted. Zorn was kind of disappointed, remarking, "Hate to lose that memory…"
Piece number six kicked off with Trevor Dunn and Ikue Mori to start Duos. Both took the Guerilla headband and did their own thing. I like hearing Ikue soloing because sometimes her electronics get buried in dense ensembles. I am such a huge Jay Campbell fangirl so I was happy to see him in brief focus for some brooding deep cello depths.
I can’t remember specifically which piece it was but there were moments when the metal guys like Matt Hollenberg and Trevor Dunn would do something collectively "metal," and you could see in their faces it was fun, and familiar territory as they locked eye contact with each other. Similarly euphoric were the moments where everyone had to play as hard and as loud as possible. Ches Smith, the man of 1,000 faces, gets a kind of psychotic gleam in his eye, grinning widely as he thrashes his drums at full pelt.
After the show I had a brief chat with some of the musicians. I didn’t make bracelets this time because there were just too many musicians, and I was running out of certain letters. Zorn reminded me one final time that I was not to write anything. “That was fun wasn’t it! Now don’t write aboudit!” he repeated, clapping me on the shoulder and shaking my hand as he whisked off into the night. I looked around to see if anyone had witnessed this three-second brush with glory. A man was at the front desk buying some merch, and he gave me a nod of approval. It was Bruce from Downtown Music Gallery. I sheepishly smiled back, quietly chuffed that someone had witnessed my magic moment.
That night, Ches gifted me his latest Tzadik release “The Self.” I was particularly interested in hearing this one, because the concept is just Ches alone, in a studio filled with different drums, percussion, and mallet family instruments, which he plays two at a time. Back in Germany, I had a listen to it while I was having a glass of wine, and I can confirm that it is indeed an extremely intimate listen. It felt almost as if I was listening into a private jam session that I wasn’t invited to. It’s a really unique collection of experimentations around two minutes long each, and two instruments per piece. You can almost hear the inner workings of Ches’s thought process as he explores the realtime composition of both melody and rhythm section. It’s almost like his own secret notebook. I enjoyed the 38-minute experience very much, although I do still prefer my slightly more original album titles “Ches Does Two at Once (In Private),” or “Ches Plays with Himself.’”
Check out “The Self” for yourself! Out now on Tzadik.
It’s worth it for Peter Gannushkin’s ethereal portrait alone…
Over at the Fladik shop, CHAOS WEEK is now over. To everyone who ordered a Fladik “Big F” shirt in celebration, these are currently in print and will be shipped out next week! For those who missed it, I had a bit of fun redecorating fladik.net for the occasion ^_^ heh heh
That’s it from me this month lovers. Stay tuned to the Fladik News for updates on my new book, and of course, all the latest on what’s hot in the Zorn Orbit!
Love ya,
FLAKE
CEO Fladik