interviews

#80 - Interview with Djuna Lee & Ben Greene

Interviews by Kate Pass. Photos by James Whineray & Adam Buckley.

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Kate: We’re really excited to hear your new band, jalan-jalan. What does jalan-jalan mean, and what can audiences expect on the night?


Djuna: Jalan-jalan means ‘to walk’ in Malay. I wanted our name to capture the energy we bring to the music. I like the way that our name references a walking bass, which creates a sense of movement and forward propulsion. You won’t hear many walking bass lines in our music but some of the more varied approaches I use evolved from these foundations, using groove and pulse as a starting point and moving into more melodic territory to form a more active counterpoint.

Kate: Can you tell us about your journey as a jazz musician, and how you became involved in the experimental side of improvisation?

Djuna: I have many fond memories of going to see PJS gigs at Hyde Park Hotel as a kid. It really inspired me to pursue music and go to WAAPA. Coming from more of a classical background, discovering how to improvise over chords and play jazz tunes was both intimidating and exciting. To some extent I think I’ve always tried to keep that feeling of unfamiliarity and excitement in the music that I play and this is maybe how I became more drawn to freer and more open playing.


Kate: As well as being an incredible musician, you’re also an architect! How does your design background influence your music?

Djuna: I find that both fields take inspiration from one another and there are many similarities in how I approach designing spaces and sounds. The design process can be very slow, sometimes taking years for a concept to become a physical reality so it’s nice to be able to just pick up my instrument and play - maybe this is what draws me to improvised music - the pace at which it can unfold.

Kate: What advice would you give to people experiencing improvised experimental music for the first time?

Djuna: For new listeners, experimental music can be unfamiliar and challenging in its mode of expression, but the uniqueness that can initially be confronting is also the music’s strength. One of the things I love about experimental music is that every musician approaches form in an entirely different and personal way, so the listening experience can be quite vulnerable and revealing. It doesn’t have to be serious or super introspective either; it can be lively, and fun. Jalan-jalan officially endorses dancing at our performances.

Kate: What are you most looking forward to at Audible Edge Festival?

Djuna: I’m feeling pretty inspired from what has been on so far and am really looking forward to Nika Mo’s album launch on April 14 at the Rechabite.

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Kate: How would you describe your music? What can audiences expect on the night?

Ben: It’s always difficult to describe your own music, but what I can say is that it’s mostly informed by free jazz, experimental rock, post-bop and noise. There are some specifically composed sections and some loosely-structured free sections, all interwoven with passages of noise and improvisation. Everyone has been gradually incorporating effects into their set-ups as well so I feel like we’ve tapped into a really interesting blend of acoustic and electronic sounds.

Kate: Can you tell us about your journey as a musician, and how you became involved in the experimental side of improvisation?

Ben: I started out playing a lot of punk and metal but over time I found myself drawn to music which incorporated more improvisation. I got deep into progressive/experimental rock and free jazz and eventually found my way to non-idiomatic free improvisation and noise music. Drummers like Chris Corsano and Frank Rosaly were putting out some really interesting solo and collaborative work, so I started exploring similar approaches in my own practice and began experimenting with contact mics and guitar effects pedals. Once I started putting this stuff together, it became a big part of my sound and I brought these elements into the bands I was playing with. From there, it was a natural step to seek out more people to play with and I was introduced into the Perth experimental scene through regular gig series like Noizemaschin! and Outcome Unknown and through affiliation with the fine people at Tone List.

Kate: You’ve worked in such a diverse range of genres, from successful post-rock bands, jazz ensembles and now experimental new music. How does Ben Greene Sextet tap into all these different influences?

Ben: The use of improvisation, effects and noise passages during performance is something that we explored quite a bit in Tangled Thoughts of Leaving, so I feel like that may be one of the more direct comparisons that could be made. Given that the other two members of the trio orphans are also in this sextet, there is definitely some aesthetic and conceptual overlap there as well. Otherwise, I feel that the influence I’ve taken from different experiences is more generalised – things like approaches to structuring free improvisation, to writing and presenting scores, to utilising the strengths of your group and organising/leading productive rehearsals. These are all skills and approaches that I am still developing in leading the group, but I’ve definitely taken on board the ideas of others I have worked with who have handled these things well and have noticed the difference that it can make to the cohesiveness of a performance.

Kate: Your new sextet is an expansion of the trio orphans, and features some great musicians such as Dom Barrett, Jonathan Brittain, Adam Buckley, Dan O’Connor and Finn Owen. Has working with a larger ensemble changed your approach to drumming and composing?

Ben: Ha! Well, in putting the group together I was mostly selecting for people who’s playing I enjoyed and who I felt would be able to connect with the music and bring something special to the mix. With Dan and Dom on board, there is obviously a link to orphans, but I also have a noise-rock duo project with Adam called Dez Cartez, and have played with Finn and Jonathan in various funk, jazz and free settings. That is to say, I feel this group is an expansion of all of those musical relationships and so working with everyone at once has caused me to consider ways of integrating the drumming approaches I have taken in those different settings into one broader approach which can bring it all together. I’m going from more conventional jazz time-keeping, to playing totally free, to textural accompaniments, all while triggering effects and generating loops. These are all things I’ve done before but not necessarily in the same set of music, so it has been a great challenge to undertake.
As for the composition aspect, it is all quite new, so it is not so much changing as it is forming my approach. This will be the first time that I am presenting my own compositions in public, so I am equally terrified and excited about it!

Kate: What are you most looking forward to at Audible Edge Festival?

Ben: I think I’d have to give that nod to Paul Briggs and Gracie Smith, who are playing a duo set the night after our gig. Paul is the guitarist from Tangled Thoughts of Leaving and Gracie is their new drummer, who is also very active in the Perth experimental scene. Very interested to see what these two are up to – I’m expecting some noisy/doomy/jazzy vibes!

Kate: What advice would you give to people experiencing improvised experimental music for the first time?

Ben: I would say be sure to surrender yourself fully to the experience. As well as the expression of musical ideas, sometimes improvised music is just as much about the effect that sound itself has on the listener over time. This can mean that it requires a certain level of engagement in order to be fully appreciated (and sometimes closing your eyes can help). I personally have been taken on some amazingly transcendent and introspective journeys by great improvised performances. I suppose this can be true for all music, but I think being conscious of this can help to bridge any gap that you may notice between yourself and the performance. Having said that, improvised music is just like any other music in that sometimes it just isn’t very good (haha), or may not be to your taste… but don’t be discouraged! Come out and see a bunch of things and you may be pleasantly surprised.

TLQ#9 - Josten Myburgh

The same questions, asked to different improvisers in Perth. Credit for the idea, and some of the questions, goes to the Addlimb archive.
Photo taken by Zal Kanga Parabia.

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What led you to improvised music?

I grew up in Mandurah (a very small city about an hour south of Perth) so I found most music online. I’d listened to free jazz relatively early in life, maybe when I was around 14: Eric Dolphy, Cecil Taylor, John Coltrane and so on. My high school saxophone teacher encouraged me to explore that music further, but I never really felt like it was something one was actually allowed to do (and I had no one to do it with). When I came to study at WAAPA it instantly seemed more possible, so I started to improvise early into my studies, using my rudimentary saxophone extended techniques in compositions and improvising with other students in the course. I saw Golden Fur and Dans les arbes perform in my second year as a student, and I found both groups incredibly striking. Then when I met Michael McNab in Melbourne through the Speak Percussion Emerging Artist’s program, I realised there was a whole culture or ‘scene’ for this music specifically (before that, I didn’t separate it from all the other contemporary art music I was hearing at school). That’s what started the investigation more deeply, and I think it was amplified by how nice everyone in that scene was.

What instrument or equipment do you use to improvise, and what is your relationship with this equipment?

At the moment I’m mostly using alto saxophone, though I also sometimes play with a very harsh-sounding digital feedback system, and have also occasionally played Bb clarinet. In the last year or so, I have really managed to beat back a lot of demons about the saxophone, which for a long time was a source of pervasive anxiety. It is hard to undo ideas of what you “should” sound like, or what the “right way” of playing the instrument is. But since I have found ways to give myself permission to just practice what I like, and what I care about, the instrument has become extremely fun to play and I have gotten much better at playing it.

If I drop my fingers anywhere on the instrument, there’s an almost infinite range of possibilities I can achieve without moving my fingers. I feel really excited by this - way more excited than working out how to get through the fingerings really fast to make melodic lines (though I do respect people who can do this very well). The saxophone has such strange acoustics, that there are always surprises. It really feels limitless, and as I get better and feel more free and relaxed playing the instrument, I just notice more and more worlds open up.

I think I’m not precious about being “a saxophonist” or anything, though, and I still like the idea of doing radical about-turns at each gig, finding new ways to subvert my own habits and such.

What keeps you improvising? What do you think makes this music important, either personally, socially, politically, etc.

It’s really fun. Speaking a bit more broadly, though, I think my aforementioned encounters with improvised music as a younger person were what Alain Badiou would call “events”: they revealed the situated “truth” of this way of making music, and thanks to the visceral, transformative power of those encounters, it is no longer really possible for me to go on living or making music disregarding the impact of those moments or pretending they never happened. Pursuing truth for Badiou is real work against the normative order of things, and I really believe in this and its potential. What most people are able to experience in the world today is incredibly narrow, as adherence to the logics of the market has extinguished so many beautiful, fertile and specific things and the contexts for those things to grow and continue. We have algorithms and “curated” platforms superseding vital grassroots culture everywhere, and in Australia we have ossified, lofty cultural institutions and major festivals perpetuating the sense that art is what some people make and what other people observe. Continuing to make this strange, raw, visceral and ungraspable music, with an extremely low barrier for entry and extremely high ceiling of accomplishment, despite the near-total absence of material reward, actually feels pretty vital.

I am aware of criticisms of improvised music which highlight the fact that the shared comprehension of what this music is and how to do it, thanks to decades of history and practice as well as the increasing institutionalisation of the music in some small pockets of the world, means that many performances of improvised music are just a recycling of already-understood notions or tropes of freedom. Whilst I sympathise with this perspective to a degree, and enjoy thinking about it and through it, I also think it’s quite unfair to judge a process-based music for not achieving upheaval, or even success, the majority of the time. It remains viscerally true to me that a successful improvisation can re-write the world and what one believes to be possible or fertile in it. I think it is rather the oppressive social structures in which we live which lead to this recycling of tropes, not necessarily the practice of improvising itself - as well as the real difficulty of creating situations where profoundly new things can actually emerge. But these criticisms are nice calls to remain committed to unravelling all kinds of structures as we work on this music, and having a certain healthy distrust of intuition.

What are your feelings on the relationship between planning and spontaneity in improvisation?

I think spontaneity within a ‘planned’ framework is a fascinating way of discovering new things when the framework is clear and one is really focused and in-the-moment. I wonder if that’s what ‘free’ improvisation always is, even if the framework is unspoken. I particularly like it when groups of people, and their shared, emergent fascinations, become like frames, or scores.

How do you evaluate or reflect upon improvisations you’ve played? How does the evaluation of a recording differ from the evaluation of a performance?

If I thought something went well, or had a lot of potential, or that it might’ve suited being listened to as a recording, I will listen to it a lot and try and find ways of articulating what was suggested by it. If I didn’t think it went well, I think I just try and leave it alone - would rather listen to other things that I love!

I’m in the camp that feels that recordings are totally different to the live performances they captured. Even a bad show that was recorded beautifully might be interesting to listen to, just for the perspective it offers on what that situation was, why such things occurred…I have really begun to enjoy the recording process as an artistic one, as well.

Do you think there is room for discursive thought, as opposed to the idea of having an empty mind and being totally ‘in-the-moment’, in improvisation? Can discursive thoughts whilst playing be productive rather than distracting, and if so, do you have an idea as to when this might be the case?

My feelings are increasingly that immanence is quite important to playing live music of any kind, at least for me. It is about being in the “thick now” and experiencing all that richness. But I think these little spaces can open while playing where one makes a kind of conscious decision to work in a certain way. Or where one notices something isn’t working and has to make a marked decision on how to deal with it. So these little openings might be a space to enter into a different, specific kind of immanence, which really focusses the situation. But I’m such a beginner, really, I’m not sure how I’ll feel about this in even a year.

Can you name three albums/pieces/experiences that inspired you to start improvising, and three that are currently inspiring you?

Other than what I mentioned in the first question, the most earth-shaking experiences were:

Will Guthrie - a live performance in 2014 (and 2015, and 2017, and 2018…)
Alice Hui-Sheng Chang - a live performance at the 2015 Totally Huge New Music Festival
Morton Feldman - the Rothko Chapel/Why Patterns? CD on New Albion Records

Nowadays, these are of great consequence:

Michael Pisaro - Concentric Rings in Magnetic Levitation
Meredith Monk - Turtle Dreams
James Rushford - The Body’s Night

And seeing Jean-Luc Guionnet & Seijiro Murayama perform in Paris was pretty important as well. There’s so many more!

What do you feel should happen next to see further growth in exploratory music practice in Western Australia?

I think we just need more places to play, and to play for longer. Go deeper into things. The scene is at the point where the music is getting so strong that I think it’ll convince people purely by its quality of presence and the clear passionate commitment of the artists. I think growing audience matters - audiences bring a support and energy that is so vital - but its the raw power of the music that’s going to do that well before any marketing gimmicks or strategies. The existing platforms for this music in Perth all encourage short performances and this has been good for fostering a culture of participating and inviting new folks into the scene in a gentle way. But we should start making some occasions which facilitate magic happening!

I also think we have to find ways to really walk the walk of this music’s potential to bypass or oppose institutional ways of learning and understanding music. There are a lot of uphill battles there, but having recently done some workshops with high school kids and seeing how beneficial playing music in this way was for their focus and sense of play and freedom, finding enduring and sustainable ways of de-institutionalising this music feels important.

http://www.jostenmyburgh.com/

#68 - Interview with Eduardo Cossio & Djuna Lee (Knots)

Josten Myburgh sits down with Djuna Lee and Eduardo Cossio ahead of their record launch concert to discuss their new project Knots and their debut Tone List release 'Sing, Shattering, A Poem in Reverse'. We analyse the record a little, discuss what it was like to record, and speak about broader concepts that inform the music including South American ritual practices.

#64 - Andy Butler 'Now and Then'

 
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Audible Edge 2019 composer-in-residence Andy Butler shares thoughts on his work for the festival, Now and Then. The piece will be performed by Butler along with Annika Moses, Djuna Lee, Josten Myburgh and Jameson Feakes on January 28 at the Old Customs House.

When I started to write Now and Then, I had in mind something quite personal — a slow song reflecting thoughts and anxieties about different kinds of uncertainty. After writing lyrics and beginning work on an accompaniment, I quickly became attached to the piece’s musical forms at the expense of its lyrical-melodic content, which I decided to erase. From that point onward, I developed the work as an instrumental piece removed from the themes that motivated its conception. The only thing leftover from the early compositional period is the title, which I kept as a nod to what I removed. It felt appropriate to do that, because the erased material did nevertheless do something important: it inspired and guided the structure and nature of the music, and so it maintains a shadow existence in the bones of the piece.

So far as the music is concerned, I think it is best conceived of as a reflection of my practice as a solo-improviser; as an application of similar processes and contents to a notated, ensemble setting. Described simply, this approach involves the selection of a fairly small number of ideas, which are then repeated and reordered throughout a performance, usually with very limited variation of the ideas themselves. In Now and Then, I employ this approach by limiting the musical raw materials to eight ideas, which are articulated and rearticulated throughout the work in an uneven, disorderly sequence. The ideas themselves began as transcriptions of improvisations, which I fine-tuned and orchestrated for harmonium, guitar, voice, electronics, saxophone, and bass. This instrumentation struck me as a good combination to express what I’d transcribed — a sound-world of soft, layered long-tones. 

Because my creative work is mostly undertaken in an improvised setting, my capacity for musical expression is usually constrained by my limitations as a spontaneous creator and keyboardist. Reimagining my work in a notated, ensemble setting is appealing because it allows me to surpass these limitations. New timbrel possibilities emerge, so does the possibility to express my ideas in a way that is communal, rather than individual. I find this communal element especially appealing, partly because I enjoy working with other musicians, and partly because performers’ interpretations of my ideas often lead to interesting reworkings of that content, shedding new light on what is, to me, very familiar material. This latter point motivated many of my compositional decisions in Now and Then. For example, I have generally afforded a lot of rhythmic latitude to the performers, there are passages of improvisation, and certain melodic phrases are expressed as vague outlines, leaving many consequential decisions to the performer.

My aspiration is for Now and Then to provide an opening to a particular sort of consciousness. I associate this kind of consciousness with my most memorable experiences playing improvised music, times where it felt as though the music was playing itself. During experiences like these, no forethought underlay any of my decisions and there was the sense that I was simply executing ideas that were being relayed to me from some other place. As a process it is deeply intuitive, almost sensory. It is a state of mind that I have also experienced as a listener, albeit in a more passive way. In these cases, the feeling is one that is strongly opposed to any analytical or intellectual impulse; it is something I associate with a feeling of immersion, a relieving sense of switching-off. I hope Now and Then manages to take people to similar places.

TLQ#8 - Michael Caratti

The same questions, asked to different improvisers in Perth. Credit for the idea, and some of the questions, goes to the Addlimb archive.

Photo by Josh Wells Photography.

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Michael Caratti

What led you to improvised music?

Mr Bungle. I discovered Bungle in the early 1990’s, up to this point I was listening to mainly rock and metal music.  From here I started investigating 1980’s Downtown music and then worked my way backwards into jazz.

 What instrument or equipment do you use to improvise, and what is your relationship with this equipment?

 I play a standard drum set and an assortment of percussive instruments including cymbals, chimes, bells, gongs, kitchen utensils, tin cans, sheet metal, chains etc. I also improvise with digital electronics on a laptop. I have played the drums since I was 12 years old and naturally enjoy a deep connection with my instrument. There have been moments along the journey where the drums have ruled me and those where I have sought to assert myself over them. Today we share a healthy working relationship! I have no real connection to equipment as such. I am not a drum-nerd. My interest and enjoyment comes from getting the best and most interesting sound from the equipment I happen to be playing at any given time within the context of a given performance.

 What keeps you improvising? What do you think makes this music important, either personally, socially, politically, etc.

The sheer excitement of creating something new with each performance. The unpredictable nature of improvised music keeps things fun and interesting, when done right. It is the challenge of doing it right, the joy of getting it right and the people I meet in the process that keeps me going.

What are your feelings on the relationship between planning and spontaneity in improvisation?

Everything is planned to the extent that ones playing will inevitably be shaped by ones own life/musical experience. My main area of interest over the past few years has been in composing for improvisers. I am always looking for ways to provide compositional frameworks that give performers scope to improvise while blurring the discernable line between pre-composed and spontaneously composed/performed music.

How do you evaluate or reflect upon improvisations you’ve played? How does the evaluation of a recording differ from the evaluation of a performance?

I try not to be overly critical of my own performances. The days of oppressively grilling myself are, thankfully, long gone. I tend to reflect on the over-arching nature of a performance - vibe, momentum, colour, shape, energy, purpose.

A recording can obviously be played back and allows you analyse every aspect of a performance in fine detail. Critical analysis of recordings is a very effective way to improve - provided it is done positively and constructively. Celebrate the good bits, work on improving the not-so-good bits and always strive to be a better musician.

Do you think there is room for discursive thoughts in improvisation? Can these thoughts whilst playing be productive rather than distracting, and if so, do you have an idea as to when this might be the case?

I am not certain I understand this question. Discursiveness negatively connotes aimlessness, so in this respect discursive thought is generally unproductive and distracting in the context of making music.  The best music to my mind, whether it be spontaneously composed/performed or otherwise, moves with purposeful direction.  

Can you name three albums/pieces/experiences that inspired you to start improvising, and three that are currently inspiring you?

It is very difficult to restrict each list to three, so I will stretch this answer out.

Past

The music of Ornette Coleman. I discovered Ornette’s music in the mid 1990’s. ‘New York Is Now’ was a highlight - so raw and intense, Elvin absolutely kills it! About fifteen years later in 2009, I saw Ornette perform live at the Meltdown Festival in London. I was lucky enough to study at the School of Harmolodics program that formed part of the festival during which I met and performed with a host of incredible artists including Fred Frith, Patti Smith and David S Ware. Needless to say, this was an inspiring week.

‘Funny Valentine’ by Massacre (Fred Frith / Bill Laswell / Charles Harward). Still my favourite improvising noise rockers. These guys play with an unnerving focus. Loud and direct.  

‘Topography of the Lungs’ by Evan Parker / Derek Bailey / Han Bennink. This is a seminal work in ‘freely improvised’ music. I would see Evan Parker as often as I could during my time living in London. He is a true master and a constant source of inspiration to countless people. His live performances are often spellbinding.

Present

‘The Compass’ by Álvaro Domene. I am constantly inspired by my good friend Álvaro Domene. His latest solo recording is phenomenal. He is a guitarist based in New York who has developed into an extraordinary musician through sheer determination and hard work. Together we run a record label and have performed on a few albums over the past years. I am always checking out his latest performances and recordings and am inspired by them all.  

‘Hotel Grief’ by the Tom Rainey Trio. Tom Rainey (drums), Ingrid Laubrock (tenor) and Mary Halvorsen (guitar) are each inspiring musicians, their individual output is always worth checking out. This and their other trio recordings are a few years old now, to my ears they reach a virtuosic pinnacle of spontaneously composed/improvised music.

‘Volition (Live at Café Oto)’ by Alex Ward Item 10. Alex is a guitarist and clarinet player based in London. He studied with Derek Bailey and is a total bad-ass improviser and composer. He leads his own big and small ensembles of improvisers, his music is always exciting and hugely inspiring to me. This album is bursting with energy, truly breathtaking stuff.

What do you feel should happen next to see further growth in exploratory music practice in Western Australia?

Those involved should just keep at it. Perform, practice, collaborate and listen, listen, listen. We have a very healthy scene despite our geographical constraints. It would be good to see more local performances by master improvisers from around the world. Albums and video footage are great but nothing comes close to seeing a master improviser perform live. It is life changing.

Original Past Life - Inference/Interference on Tone List: https://tonelist.bandcamp.com/album/inference-interference

Michael Caratti and Álvaro Domene’s label Iluso, featuring many of his own recordings: http://ilusorecords.com/

#58 - Interview with Temporary Autonomous Zion

Josten Myburgh interviews Australian experimental musicians Sage Pbbbt and Shoshana Rosenberg (Temporary Autonomous Zion) about their release 'Making Kin' out on Tone List on July 27. The interview discusses ideas of ritual, femininity and harshness as they manifest on the album, delves into the group's background and name, and considers future orientations for the project.