Fascinating piece of work is Six Hands At An Open Door (PERSISTENCE OF SOUND PS009), in which the UK electroacoustic group Langham Research Centre perform and improvise with UK saxophonist John Butcher.
One wouldn’t wish to over-emphasise the point, but these players are coming to music from quite different directions; LRC with their interest in John Cage, graphic scores, electronic music and the deep knowledge of the history of formal experiments in all such areas, and Butcher with his grounding in free improvisation. However, it’s also fair to say Butcher is incredibly open-minded, is equally well-informed about the work of modernist composers, and personally has a history of radical experiments in his catalogue, some of them verging on sound art. For instance, his Resonant Spaces work from 2006 made use of various resounding locales in Scotland (inside caves, oil tankers, etc.) to great effect; and in 2004 he teamed up with Toshimaru Nakamura, the Japanese emperor of controlled minimal feedback noise, to create the unforgettable Dusted Machinery record. Butcher is not alone among UK improvisers to foster this broad-minded outlook – Mark Wastell is another prime example who springs to mind – but it indicates he’s a perfect collaborator for a project like this.
Langham Research Centre have performed in quartet and trio mode, but for today’s record it’s the duo of Robert Worby and Iain Chambers, working their pre-recorded tapes (played on cassette machines), shortwave radios, oscillators, and close-miked small objects to accompany John Butcher’s saxophones. What I mostly want to say about Six Hands is how understated it is; no shocks, jolts, or wild explosions in modified sound to grab the attention of a jaded listener. Instead, patient exploration, sympathy, mutual respect, and delicate playing are just a few of the operational watch-words. To headline-seekers who were expecting a “sensational” mash-up type record resembling Albert Ayler doing battle with early Merzbow, or a dream of Pierre Schaeffer receiving a holy visitation from Ornette Coleman, look elsewhere in the back issues of your preferred jazz journals. No use in me picking out individual tracks; as it happens, the record comes equipped with short descriptive texts which more or less summarise what’s happening on each of the six tracks, using language that veers from the prosaic to the poetic, from the concrete to the abstract (often doing so in the space of one twisty-turny sentence). Nor are we invited to dwell on the specifics of instruments, equipment, speakers or microphones, as some fetishists like to do.
I think if there are any underlying trends to these musical utterances, there are a few hints about new ways of thinking, using intuition to escape traditional musical traps, finding ways to build structure without letting the scaffolding become a cage, and quietly seek out new forms of freedom. I’d like to think all of this will pass on to the listener; if you could use this strange music as a kind of “map” to help guide your brain, who knows where your ideas might lead. It’s all there in this map, in plain view; a detailed, blow-by-blow document of the very processes of thought itself. Without wishing to generalise too much, we’ve got solid evidence here of two very different musical histories finding and sharing common ground, and three individual actors harnessing it to extend their reach into new zones of freedom – an “open door”, indeed. My usual reference point for saxophone with electronics has always been the work of Anthony Braxton with Richard Teitelbaum, but Six Hands might just set a new benchmark of success. From 18 January 2023.