MIGUEL GORDI - Apophenia
Ubuntu - UBU0021
Miguel Gorodi - trumpet & flugelhorn; Gareth Lockrane - flutes; Michael Chillingworth - alto & clarinet; George Crowley - tenor & bass clarinet; Kieran Mcleod - trombone; Ray Hearne - tuba; Ralph Wyld - vibes; Conor Chaplin - bass; Dave Hamblett - drums
Miguel Gorodi impressed as featured soloist on Cassie Kinoshi’s ambitious large-ensemble SEED project earlier in the year; here he presents his own project, deploying an equally ambitious sound palette over a set of meticulously plotted compositional structures. While Kinoshi’s project presented a joyous, raggedly inclusive portrait of contemporary London jazz, Gorodi’s record is more introverted, and unashamedly cerebral. There are references to Sartre, to Per Norgard’s infinity series (‘a never-ending, self-perpetuating sequence of numbers that creates as fractal pattern, balancing familiarity with novelty’ in case you were wondering) and Gorodi’s own lived experience with OCD and depression. The result is a record that seems at once meticulously plotted and intensely personal. Gorodi really knows how to use his large ensemble effectively to create an almost theatrical sense of space; the swirling figures of the brass and woodwind intro to ‘La Nausee’ swim giddily in and out of focus, tuba and bass interact down in the low end to create a subliminal sense of unease on ‘Time Sigmund’; vibes create an icy stasis on ‘Search’ before the horns enter with clusters of long tones, like shards of light over a frozen landscape. There’s plenty of ingenious rhythmic figures from the on-point team of Chaplin and Hamblett to satisfy the contemporary hunger for broken beats; a typical compositional device is for the band sections to be assigned different, fiendishly intricate patterns that intersect and merge, as on ‘Soma’.
Over the course of an album this might prove forbiddingly intellectual, but the sheer quality and commitment of the soloists rescues proceedings from turning into an exercise in self-absorbed abstraction. Gorodi’s trumpet is logical and controlled as his compositions; Chaplin, George Crowley and Kieran Mcleod all deliver memorable moments; and there’s so much passionate, creative blowing that every tune simply bursts into life and it’s really impossible to single anyone out, though Michael Chillingworth’s solo on ‘Time Sigmund’ might just qualify him for man of the match. An outstanding debut.
Reviewed by Eddie Myer
Ubuntu - UBU0021
Miguel Gorodi - trumpet & flugelhorn; Gareth Lockrane - flutes; Michael Chillingworth - alto & clarinet; George Crowley - tenor & bass clarinet; Kieran Mcleod - trombone; Ray Hearne - tuba; Ralph Wyld - vibes; Conor Chaplin - bass; Dave Hamblett - drums
Miguel Gorodi impressed as featured soloist on Cassie Kinoshi’s ambitious large-ensemble SEED project earlier in the year; here he presents his own project, deploying an equally ambitious sound palette over a set of meticulously plotted compositional structures. While Kinoshi’s project presented a joyous, raggedly inclusive portrait of contemporary London jazz, Gorodi’s record is more introverted, and unashamedly cerebral. There are references to Sartre, to Per Norgard’s infinity series (‘a never-ending, self-perpetuating sequence of numbers that creates as fractal pattern, balancing familiarity with novelty’ in case you were wondering) and Gorodi’s own lived experience with OCD and depression. The result is a record that seems at once meticulously plotted and intensely personal. Gorodi really knows how to use his large ensemble effectively to create an almost theatrical sense of space; the swirling figures of the brass and woodwind intro to ‘La Nausee’ swim giddily in and out of focus, tuba and bass interact down in the low end to create a subliminal sense of unease on ‘Time Sigmund’; vibes create an icy stasis on ‘Search’ before the horns enter with clusters of long tones, like shards of light over a frozen landscape. There’s plenty of ingenious rhythmic figures from the on-point team of Chaplin and Hamblett to satisfy the contemporary hunger for broken beats; a typical compositional device is for the band sections to be assigned different, fiendishly intricate patterns that intersect and merge, as on ‘Soma’.
Over the course of an album this might prove forbiddingly intellectual, but the sheer quality and commitment of the soloists rescues proceedings from turning into an exercise in self-absorbed abstraction. Gorodi’s trumpet is logical and controlled as his compositions; Chaplin, George Crowley and Kieran Mcleod all deliver memorable moments; and there’s so much passionate, creative blowing that every tune simply bursts into life and it’s really impossible to single anyone out, though Michael Chillingworth’s solo on ‘Time Sigmund’ might just qualify him for man of the match. An outstanding debut.
Reviewed by Eddie Myer
