Gently Disturbed

“...a transcendent example of the capacity of music...to reach beyond geographical and political boundaries ...” --Don Heckerman, The Los Angeles Times 
 

The acoustic bass is not generally perceived as one of the leading voices in a jazz ensemble. Horns and pianos, sometimes percussion and guitars, garner more attention from an audience and even from critics. Yet the bass is critical to the pace and rhythm, and in the right hands, can be an elegant and forceful solo instrument as well. Historically, despite their instrument’s low profile, some of the genre’s most lauded visionaries have been the bassists—Charles Mingus, Dave Holland, Jaco Pastorious, Ray Brown, Ron Carter, Charlie Haden, Stanley Clarke, Gary Peacock, Christian McBride. Add to this list Avishai Cohen, an Israeli composer, bandleader, bassist and (sometimes) pianist (not to be confused with the trumpeter of the same name) with a growing reputation for music that fuses Latin and Middle Eastern folk melodies with modern jazz structures. Gently Disturbed, Cohen’s ninth release as leader, should solidify that reputation and confirm Downbeat’s designation as “a jazz visionary of global proportions.”

Born and raised in Israel, Avishai Cohen first studied piano from age 11, turning to jazz at fourteen and picking up the electric bass in high school under the spell of bass legend Jaco Pastorious. After two years of study at the Music and Arts High School in Jerusalem, he was drafted into the Israeli Army. Following his tour of duty, he returned to musical studies, now interested in the acoustic bass. In 1992, he moved to New York City where he studied at the New School and Mannes School of Music, played with fellow student Brad Mehldau, and joined a Latin band through studies with bassist Andy Gonzales. His opportunities in New York included work with Ravi Coltrane, Wynton Marsalis, Joshua Redman, Paquito D'Rivera, Roy Hargrove, Leon Parker and, particularly, Danilo Perez, before he was “discovered” by Chick Corea in the mid 90s. Cohen played with Corea’s Origin and later with Corea’s New Trio until 2003. His debut Adama was released in 1997, followed by Devotion (1999), Colors in 2000 and Unity (2001) before forming his own label, Razdaz Records.  He has since released Lyla (2003), At Home (2005), Continuo (2006), and As Is: Live at the Blue Note (2007). In summer 2008, Cohen will serve as Artistic Director of the Red Sea Jazz Festival.

Shai Maestro

Together, the Avishai Cohen Trio at times recalls the gentler side of The Bad Plus in their inventive, pulsating, classically informed tactics, the driving beauty and power of Hiromi shrouded in soft pastels, and the harmonic explorations of an acoustic EST. Particularly the classical upbringing of Cohen and Maestro provide a formalized foundation from which all three launch into more edgy territory, but ever so gently that each return home confirms that you were never far away. Sometimes the most productive journeys are in your own backyard. 

With the exception of two tracks based on traditional folk themes and two group efforts from the trio, Cohen composed the compositions.  His title track, coming midway, is a microcosm of the whole. The bassist starts with a descending theme that continues throughout as Maestro fills in more meandering phrases, yet still presenting a study in simplicity of line. Guiliana adds the most elaborated fills—“gently disturbing” the proceedings as a if a gathering storm in early summer. 

Avashi Cohen

The group compositions include “Pinzin Kinzin,” introduced by a bass vamp leading the trio into single-note experiments. On a grander scale, “Eleven Wives” is a bold, sweeping journey of repeating themes and slight hesitations, most specifically recalling the more reserved side of EST and Hiromi with its use of an elongated vamp and strong but never overpowering percussion. Maestro seems to split his brain into two, as if two pianists are at work, one bass, one treble, independently thinking hemispheres that merge into one magnificent clearinghouse of music ideas. Guiliana goes through a workout of rolling patterns while Cohen maintains a heavy pulse throughout the track. 

Among Cohen’s compositions, “Seattle” appropriately creates a sensation of rain, a slowly building tune highlighting the piano’s melodic line. Cohen’s bass solo is gray and misty, the percussion distant. Infusing some urgent energy, Cohen merges with Maestro to create more swing and drive. “Chutzpan” (an apt play on “chutzpah”) offers bright repeating phrases from the piano over a firm underlayment of percussion and bass. Maestro dissects and rephrases, adding new melodic and rhythmic twists over his core riff; Cohen’s bass solo here pops and bubbles like another percussion instrument at both ends of the strings, egging on Guiliana—with plenty of “chutzpah.” 

Many of the compositions and arrangements suggest origins in Bach’s formalities and/or Chopin’s studious experiments, perhaps none so clearly as Cohen’s “The Ever Evolving Etude.” With a Monkishly ragged rhythm and Baroquishly contrapuntal theme, Maestro shows considerable restraint in not setting the keyboard on fire, yet he fuels a smoldering energy throughout. Cohen keeps pace with Maestro’s left hand until he bursts through, crossing the bridge with a more explosive exchange between piano and bass. Guiliana drives assertively throughout, barely keeping it all under control as form shifts between structured sanity and “ever evolving” experiment. All calms down with “Variations in G Minor,” as bass and piano solos alternately lead in a tightly woven, midtempo theme with numerous detours. Cohen really shines in his solo moments, which are frequent and mirrored by Maestro’s reworkings of time and space. Energy is released, absorbed, reconstituted, to be released again, the cycle repeated until consumed. 

One of the most classically formed compositions in the set, Cohen’s “Umray” is a post bop ballad presented by piano, with Maestro providing as much melody in his left hand as his right. As the full trio engages, the pianist injects small decorations into his phrases, more syncopation, as a jazz sonata for piano trio. Cohen asserts his voice in similar fashion, now interweaving his statements with Maestro, who embellishes the theme with increasingly intricate bonuses. A delicately wry conclusion closes the track, leading into the finale, “Structure in Emotion.” Perhaps this title is best considered as the overriding theme of the set, as these compositions are all structures in emotion. A sweeping piano introduction is joined by bowed bass, then cymbal shimmer from Guiliana. Maestro initiates a repeating line to introduce a new segment, another stretched out vamp that surrounds the trio, containing the music without stifling it. The structure remains while each musician tests its boundaries. 

Gently Disturbed tests conventional boundaries without really crossing them, pulling together the classical and cultural backgrounds of the musicians while allowing them to break with both American jazz and European traditions in subtle, harmonic, ultimately very satisfying fashion. If “all the world’s a stage,” for Avishai Cohen and his talented young cohorts, the world also is a concerto. And these three artists are not “merely players.”  

More on Avishai Cohen at www.avishaimusic.com. Gently Disturbed is available from Cohen’s website and other retail outlets.