Latest release from viola improviser João Camões is a trio improv release where he teams up again with Jean-Marc Foussat (our hero, Algerian synth player and continually undersung talent) and the trumpeter Jean-Luc Capozzo. M. Capozzo is a new name around these quarters but he has played with many international (mostly European) free musicians, and on this release plays trumpet, flugelhorn and the harmonic flute. Well, Autres Paysages (CLEAN FEED CF456CD) is a record that only began to sink in for this listener during the last 8 mins of the last track, after which I wanted to go back and spin it all again. A good result considering my early disappointment with it. Perhaps it’s slow to unlock its deeply personal secrets. It is after all a very intimate record, trying (I think) to come to terms with difficult emotions and aspects of human relations. The opening cut as much as admits to this plan, with its title ‘L’espace qui nous sépare’ referring directly to the sheer impossibility of communication, the distance that lies between ourselves and our fellow human beings, a space that can sometimes appear to be a chasm…but let’s not get too pessimistic, since the music on this 21-minute epic of depressive feelings is trying very hard to find moments of hope in among the endless passages of bleakness and desolation it depicts so accurately. Moments, I say, of warmth and compassion, when the players somehow connect with each other, and empathy is kindled.
The theme continues to some extent on ‘De tes yeux aux miens’, a piece where Camões and Foussat effortlessly create moments of high intensity from electronic drones and stringed-instrument harmonics; near-spectral tones float upwards. I say effortlessly, but it’s a facility that is likely to be hard-won; the ability to bend one’s craft towards such emotional honesty is not handed out lightly. Capozzo here exhibits his ability to make his instrument “talk”, like a human voice or even a bird or animal; it’s extremely expressive, and even if he appears to be pulling in a different direction to the other two players, the combined effect is strong. There’s a sense of urgency to this performance too, which grows stronger towards the end; something important is at stake, as title suggests; two people stare into each other’s eyes and, as they reach a deeper understanding, realise something has to be done, and soon.
‘Berceuse pour Manuel’ is, of the three, the most dynamic (goes through at least three major changes in emphasis) and perhaps the most sentimental; the expressive tendencies are so amplified they border on the maudlin, until thankfully we reach an astringent ending which pulls everything back on track. Joao’s characteristic playing action (a sort of highly controlled micro-gestural hacking motion) has rarely sounded better, while Foussat is entering a surreal dream-world of subdued humming and droning through his circuits. This one may start out like a ballad (a ballad with no tune) melting in its own tears, soft and drippy, but it ends with lots of cross-player interaction, tension, and emotive pull. The recording of the barking dog at the beginning is a poignant touch; it evokes a mood of existential loneliness, distant, troubled. From 4th December 2017.