By Steve Weinstein
By Bryan Bierman
By Lindsey Rhoades
By Chaz Kangas
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Jena Ardell
By Jesse Sendejas Jr.
By Katherine Turman
Artists everywhere draw on feelings of community and their own alienationa symbolic Jewish homeland that rivals the U.S. for military aggression would seem to offer its artists ample opportunity for both. But more to the point, it's the only Middle Eastern country where Western influences are openly embraced, and its otherness from its neighbors would make it a natural melting pot even if being a magnet for Jews the world over didn't already. Take for example Anat Fort's A Long Story, which begins with a trio performance of a piece of hers called "Just Now," featuring Ed Schuller on bass and Paul Motian on drums. The piece is reprised twice, first in a solo piano variation about 20 minutes in, and then with clarinetist Perry Robinson added to the trio at the very end. A chant is implicit in the song's knuckled, elegiac piano line, but is the echo I'm hearing Eastern European or Muslim? No doubt it's a conflation of the two, also imbued with the influence of Keith Jarrett's folksier side. What matters is that it lures you in immediately, establishing a contemplative mood undispelled over the next hour, even as the interplay between Fort and her better-known sidemen gradually becomes freer and more open-ended, reaching a peak with Fort's length-of-the-keyboard leaps and Motian's abstract tap-dancing on "Rehaired," which leads into Robinson's clarinet gnarls and otherworldly ocarina whistles on the following "As Two/Something 'Bout Camels."
Seeing the elusive Robinson's name on the cover was all that moved A Long Story to the top of the CD stack, given that I don't recall ever hearing Peel, Fort's 1999 DIY debut. The lone avant-garde clarinetist who wasn't a doubling saxophonist for a long time in the '60s, Robinson has never recorded as much as his talent should warrant. Although present on only five of Story's 11 tracks, he doesn't disappoint: As capable of relaxed lyricism as he is of agitation, he yawns and stretches on "Chapter Two," a duet with Fort, and floats like Paul Desmond on her near-blues "Not a Dream?" But Fort is a real discovery, a pianist who's absorbed her influences (Paul Bley and Cecil Taylor, along with Jarrett) and already has a clear identity as a composer. She produced Story herselfthough it fits the ECM mold of album-as-narrative, label founder Manfred Eicher became involved after the fact, via label regular Motian. The notes say she planned on including a few standards until Motian, offering counsel as the veteran musician on the date, talked her out of it. Too bad, in a way, because Fort's own compositions are so songlike, it would have been interesting to get her take on a familiar melody or two. In the end, though, Motian was right: Story feels complete as is, all of a piece to a degree even few ECMs are.
What else pertaining to Israel is in the pile? Anat Cohen plays only clarinet, her best horn, on Poetica, which spotlights her with a rhythm section plus a string quartet arranged by bassist Omer Avital on six of 10 tracks. Four graceful Israeli melodies rest comfortably amid Coltrane's "Lonnie's Lament," a Jacques Brel tune, and gently surging originals by Cohen and Avital. Heard a track at a time, Poetica is beguiling, but one after another, all those pensive, slow-to-medium tempos begin to wear on you. Noir, a companion release also featuring Cohen on booting tenor, soprano, and alto saxophonesand crescendoing orchestral arrangements by Oded Lev-Arioffers more variety and more pure joy. Its accents are from South America, though fluidly Brazilian rather than that choppy Manhattan-Latin take on Afro-Cuban rhythm currently in vogue in jazz (and on tedious display throughout much of As Is . . . Live at the Blue Note, the latest release by the Avishai Cohen who plays bass). Pixinguinha's "Ingênuo" and Ernesto Lecuona's "La Comparsa" are the most buoyant of Lev-Ari's Gil Evansworthy transformations of what used to be called "light" classics, and the older pop tunes here are ones you don't hear everydayLev-Ari pulls out all the stops on "Cry Me a River" (that torch song to end all torch songs), and so does Cohen on clarinet, soaring from chalumeau to piping in a blink.