Great Waitress, back, before, Australia, splitrec, splitrec30 CD (2022)
Not for the first time and most certainly not for the last either, interesting things have been taking place in my home city of Sydney and I’m the last person on the planet to hear of them. Back in June 2018, improvisational trio Great Waitress gave a performance at the Annandale Creative Arts Centre in inner-west Sydney and part of that performance has been captured on “back, before”, the fourth album by the group. Formed in 2009, Great Waitress consists of Australians Laura Altman (clarinet, feedback) and Monica Brooks (accordion) and Berlin-based Magda Mayas (prepared piano), and all three musicians, when not playing together, are also involved in collaborations with other musicians and groups, and pursue solo music projects. The recent COVID-19 pandemic obviously put a pause to GW’s musical activities but the trio is still committed to maintaining a public presence as demonstrated by his release.
The venue where the trio performed is an old church hall – the art centre itself was established by Newtown Mission of the Uniting Church in Australia in that building – along the main road (Johnston Street) in Annandale, itself a busy suburb in inner-west Sydney, yet the recording itself shows no sign of interference from background traffic ambience. If anything, the music seems to be in a world of its own conjuring, a world magicked into being by the combined concentrated energies of its creators. The clarinet and accordion don’t sound much like their usual respective mellow or cheery selves though the piano itself can be identified in parts. Much of the music, especially on the first track “back”, sounds like a lone flute melody floating / flying through dense tropical forest foliage while accompanying instruments have a quivering light metallic tone suggestive of thumb pianos. On the second and longer track “before”, the music seems more dream-like and inward-looking, and at times it seems to pause as if (quite literally) looking back and taking stock. Then all of a sudden, sounds are hauled out and thrown at the audience, as if a huge burden has just been discovered and exposed to light, and a release of tension is the result. In both tracks the music becomes more defined and intense, and tones are stronger and more piercing, in their latter halves and particularly in their last few moments. The last three minutes or so of “back” where the clarinet comes to the fore are especially beautiful in sound and structuring, with a feeling of wistful and melancholy lightness and even a bit of radiance in the accompanying tones.
As TSP readers might have already guessed, this recording does require deep listening and a steady attention span, but the music, restrained and minimal in delivery, does not put very heavy demands on listeners’ ability to concentrate. Indeed, once you start listening to this recording, almost immediately you’re in a very different and very magic world of lightness and beauty, though there may be sadness present as well. When the recording ends some 44+ minutes later, it is as if you have spent just a brief time in that world. Naturally you want to stay there just a bit longer … 44+ minutes longer, to be precise …