JIM RATTIGAN'S PAVILLON - The Freedom Of Movement
Three World Records
Jim Rattigan - french horn; Martin Speake - alto sax; Andy Panayi - tenor sax; Mick Foster - baritone sax; Percy Pursglove - trumpet & flugelhorn; Steve Fishwick - trumpet; Robbie Robson - trumpet; Mark Nightingale - trombone; Sarah Willimas - bass trombone; Hans Koller - piano; Dave Whitford - double bass; Martin France - drums
Jim Rattigan shares with Gunther Schuller and Julius Watkins the unusual qualification of approaching jazz through the medium of the french horn, though he has also served with distinction in the orchestras, including both the London Symphony and the Royal Philharmonic versions, and toured and recorded in a variety of large-ensemble settings with a galaxy of contemporary jazz stars from Michael Brecker to Kenny Wheeler.
The respect he commands on the scene can be measured in part by the quality of the talent he can call upon for his Pavilion project, the line-up of which reads like a who’s who of talent for his generation: and the breadth of his experience in large ensemble playing is evident in the scope and imagination of his writing. His own horn lends a distinct flavour to the ensemble parts where it’s unusual texture is clearly audible, and it’s also effective when featured in expressive solo on the mellow ballads “Oh, Yeah, Great Thanks” and ‘Eclipse” with a wry delivery full of vocalisations, but in general he gives the bulk of solo space over to his collaborators, and they amply repay his generosity by rising to the occasion every time, from Mick Fosters’ nimble baritone solo on the opening barnstormer “TimBuckThree” and thoughout.
The writing draws on a range of contemporary influences from the mainstream on outwards, operating in a similar area to Gareth Lockrane’s similarly energetic and virtuosic big band; “Sweet Tamarind” could be a mid-70s pop-jazz chart from Johnny Dankworth, and “Crout’n Confusion” is alive with jagged polyrhythms. Dave Whitford and Martin France keep things swinging throughout; the superb quality of the playing never overburdens the playful good humour evident in the titles, though the title track itself provides a more sombre reflections on current political circumstances. Outstanding.
Reviewed by Eddie Myer
Three World Records
Jim Rattigan - french horn; Martin Speake - alto sax; Andy Panayi - tenor sax; Mick Foster - baritone sax; Percy Pursglove - trumpet & flugelhorn; Steve Fishwick - trumpet; Robbie Robson - trumpet; Mark Nightingale - trombone; Sarah Willimas - bass trombone; Hans Koller - piano; Dave Whitford - double bass; Martin France - drums
Jim Rattigan shares with Gunther Schuller and Julius Watkins the unusual qualification of approaching jazz through the medium of the french horn, though he has also served with distinction in the orchestras, including both the London Symphony and the Royal Philharmonic versions, and toured and recorded in a variety of large-ensemble settings with a galaxy of contemporary jazz stars from Michael Brecker to Kenny Wheeler.
The respect he commands on the scene can be measured in part by the quality of the talent he can call upon for his Pavilion project, the line-up of which reads like a who’s who of talent for his generation: and the breadth of his experience in large ensemble playing is evident in the scope and imagination of his writing. His own horn lends a distinct flavour to the ensemble parts where it’s unusual texture is clearly audible, and it’s also effective when featured in expressive solo on the mellow ballads “Oh, Yeah, Great Thanks” and ‘Eclipse” with a wry delivery full of vocalisations, but in general he gives the bulk of solo space over to his collaborators, and they amply repay his generosity by rising to the occasion every time, from Mick Fosters’ nimble baritone solo on the opening barnstormer “TimBuckThree” and thoughout.
The writing draws on a range of contemporary influences from the mainstream on outwards, operating in a similar area to Gareth Lockrane’s similarly energetic and virtuosic big band; “Sweet Tamarind” could be a mid-70s pop-jazz chart from Johnny Dankworth, and “Crout’n Confusion” is alive with jagged polyrhythms. Dave Whitford and Martin France keep things swinging throughout; the superb quality of the playing never overburdens the playful good humour evident in the titles, though the title track itself provides a more sombre reflections on current political circumstances. Outstanding.
Reviewed by Eddie Myer
