STEPHEN GREW - The Lit and Phil Suite
Self-released CD
Stephen Grew - solo piano
The Lit and Phil Suite is both an odd and a totally obvious name for this solo piano offering from Stephen Grew. The Lit and Phil in question is, of course, the grand Literature and Philosophy Society Library in Newcastle, the largest independent library in the UK outside of London, and this CD was recorded on the Kawai grand piano possessed by the library, and which is, I presume, one of the few items that sadly can't be borrowed from this fine institution. The name is odd because well, perhaps for this reviewer at least, it conjures no useful associations when listening to the music, which is in itself pungent with myriad possible alternative monikers. But I digress.
But not totally. More than a 'suite', I'd say that this collection of recordings is more of a series of four complex virtuosos etudes. Stephen Grew specifies in his notes on the CD that these improvisations explore a technique called 'hand over hand' that he has been developing for more than 2 years. The technique utilises a pattern of rapid fire single notes in the left hand played over right hand chords, which are usually of intervals of a 5th or octave (8th) interval. The result is a kind of pulsating moto perpetuo, an iteration of complex, short patterns that is almost devoid of melodic motion but which is highly engaging to the ear. Like the etudes of Chopin, Grew's engagements with this work have elevated the subsequent flow of music to that of the virtuoso concert stage. A kind of exposition of an end point, of a line of enquiry, that produces answers and then informs in other ways the kind of questions from which it arose.
Grew's piano work has on more than occasion been compared to the automated, piano roll compositions of Conlan Nancarrow, and their astonishing swirls of rapid sound. This is not in many ways a pointless comparison, yes as a kind of rapid, calling-card summation we are in that area, but there is more to this than the pyrotechnics of a highly gifted technician. Grew is an improvising musician and his work in these sustained studies in possibility, sits right on the fault line of our common engagements with notions of composition, notation and improvisation. To the extent which, like the solo music of one of Grew's regular collaborators, saxophonist Evan Parker, the divisions between contemporary notated music and improvisation become almost meaningless. It is all just varied forms and approaches to composition, and here the issue of notation or improvsation is perhaps one of the most troubled but also to a great extent, a lesser important distinction.
On the evidence of this CD, Grew's work sits very elegantly also beside the solo piano works of American composer Elliott Carter (both have an engaging, subtle and introspective harmonic language) in their scorrevole approaches, and not without precedent in European piano improvisation traditions, perhaps with specific roots spreading towards players such as Fred Van Hove.
This is music that has little link to the traditions of jazz improvisation, and is (refreshingly) free of much by way of romanticism from any source. It is also (refreshingly) free of the disruption engagements of the surreal traditions. The sadness of this reviewer is that Grew's CD is not a glossy cased production sent my way by a management structure keen to display the talents of their artists. The CD comes in a single card folder with hand stuck on notes and a scissor cut picture. No distribution as such, apart from via stepgrew@gmail.com Lit and Phil, as a recording, establishes Grew as a highly important originator in contemporary European improvisation. Those who already know his work will have guessed as much from his live work and on-going collaborations, but this CD deserves to carry his name and awareness of his music far beyond the extent to which it has already travelled. Grew as a musician deserves to be heard and cherished, and the time for that, on this evidence, is now.
The CD itself features masterly production by John McGovern, a real sound treat for the ears, that does justice to a release of great importance.
Reviewed by Peter Urpeth
Self-released CD
Stephen Grew - solo piano
The Lit and Phil Suite is both an odd and a totally obvious name for this solo piano offering from Stephen Grew. The Lit and Phil in question is, of course, the grand Literature and Philosophy Society Library in Newcastle, the largest independent library in the UK outside of London, and this CD was recorded on the Kawai grand piano possessed by the library, and which is, I presume, one of the few items that sadly can't be borrowed from this fine institution. The name is odd because well, perhaps for this reviewer at least, it conjures no useful associations when listening to the music, which is in itself pungent with myriad possible alternative monikers. But I digress.
But not totally. More than a 'suite', I'd say that this collection of recordings is more of a series of four complex virtuosos etudes. Stephen Grew specifies in his notes on the CD that these improvisations explore a technique called 'hand over hand' that he has been developing for more than 2 years. The technique utilises a pattern of rapid fire single notes in the left hand played over right hand chords, which are usually of intervals of a 5th or octave (8th) interval. The result is a kind of pulsating moto perpetuo, an iteration of complex, short patterns that is almost devoid of melodic motion but which is highly engaging to the ear. Like the etudes of Chopin, Grew's engagements with this work have elevated the subsequent flow of music to that of the virtuoso concert stage. A kind of exposition of an end point, of a line of enquiry, that produces answers and then informs in other ways the kind of questions from which it arose.
Grew's piano work has on more than occasion been compared to the automated, piano roll compositions of Conlan Nancarrow, and their astonishing swirls of rapid sound. This is not in many ways a pointless comparison, yes as a kind of rapid, calling-card summation we are in that area, but there is more to this than the pyrotechnics of a highly gifted technician. Grew is an improvising musician and his work in these sustained studies in possibility, sits right on the fault line of our common engagements with notions of composition, notation and improvisation. To the extent which, like the solo music of one of Grew's regular collaborators, saxophonist Evan Parker, the divisions between contemporary notated music and improvisation become almost meaningless. It is all just varied forms and approaches to composition, and here the issue of notation or improvsation is perhaps one of the most troubled but also to a great extent, a lesser important distinction.
On the evidence of this CD, Grew's work sits very elegantly also beside the solo piano works of American composer Elliott Carter (both have an engaging, subtle and introspective harmonic language) in their scorrevole approaches, and not without precedent in European piano improvisation traditions, perhaps with specific roots spreading towards players such as Fred Van Hove.
This is music that has little link to the traditions of jazz improvisation, and is (refreshingly) free of much by way of romanticism from any source. It is also (refreshingly) free of the disruption engagements of the surreal traditions. The sadness of this reviewer is that Grew's CD is not a glossy cased production sent my way by a management structure keen to display the talents of their artists. The CD comes in a single card folder with hand stuck on notes and a scissor cut picture. No distribution as such, apart from via stepgrew@gmail.com Lit and Phil, as a recording, establishes Grew as a highly important originator in contemporary European improvisation. Those who already know his work will have guessed as much from his live work and on-going collaborations, but this CD deserves to carry his name and awareness of his music far beyond the extent to which it has already travelled. Grew as a musician deserves to be heard and cherished, and the time for that, on this evidence, is now.
The CD itself features masterly production by John McGovern, a real sound treat for the ears, that does justice to a release of great importance.
Reviewed by Peter Urpeth
