
For European musicians jazz has been many things, including a tradition to rebel against – a point from which to reach back to traditions of their own, both folk and classical. Inevitably, the American sounds that spoke of liberation and prosperity to embattled Europe, especially where the communist yoke prevailed, became the sounds of American triumphalism, push and patronisation. America’s intermittent self-image as the rescuer of other countries from their crazy conflicts became a little wearying – however justified – particularly as the Americans seemed to see their own bloody civil war and revoluton in a different light. Let us not go into the smugness of some American neo conservative jazz musicians.
It is not surprising that, in recent times, some critics have declared that the interesting new jazz has come from Europe rather than the USA, and in this there has been a seed of truth, although it’s all more complicated than that. Furthermore, some Europeans have boasted that they have created breakaways from jazz that are now more interesting than jazz itself. This too has been true sometimes.
Polish trumpeter and composer Tomasz Stanko could be seen to bear a good share of the burden of proof here, and it is interesting to hear him in that light. But it is more important to hear him as one of the undeniably great original trumpeters in any improvised music tradition.

Born in Cracow in 1942 Stanko has a long distinguished pedigree in the European avant garde, but he has also made some beautiful recordings, notably on the prestige European label ECM, with top-line Americans such as Gary Peacock, Jack De Johnette and Michael Brecker. In 1966 he was singled out, along with pianist Joachim Kuhn and bassist George Mratz, in a competition in Vienna that was judged by Cannonball Adderley, Art Farmer and Joe Zawinul. In a way it was a serving of notice. All three Europeans have since distingished themselves in international jazz. Joachim Berendt declared, somewhat sweepingly, that ‘Stanko was the first European musician to translate Ornette Coleman into his own language.’ For some years now Stanko has led the superb European quartet we will hear in Australia, with pianist Marcin Wasilewski, bassist Slawomir and drummer Michal Miskiewicz.
This quartet, often much more introspective than the iconoclastic bands Stanko has performed with – Von Schlippenbach Globe Unity Orchestra for instance – creates a superbly balanced distillation of elements of jazz and improvised music generally over the past half a century. The fire is very much there, but it often blazes suddenly through settings of limpidity, of floating beauty. The term introspective has different connotations, but all involve concentration, reflection, internal process. An early ECM disc by the quartet was called Soul Of Things, and the process clearly involved looking outward intensely at things, focussing, trying to catch their essence or nature, and of course looking inward for echoes, resonances – insights.
One of the variations began with the melody that has been played on trumpets for centuries each hour from the tower of Cracow’s main church. Marcin Kydrynski writes, ‘Who knows, maybe little Tomasz decided to play the trumpet while listening to this motif. Yet now he seems to create a dialogue with the memory of himself as a boy.’
It is likely that older Tomasz has now been asked this question more than once. We do know that he was given violin lessons by his father, studied violin and piano in elementary school and began formal study of the trumpet at 17.
So beautiful, distinctive and satisfying is Stanko’s playing that we inevitably begin to think generally about the instrument itself and its tradition. Great musicians go beyond their instrument, but make you think about the spirits that dwell within the instrument at the same time. The thing is a brass shell. It has no reed or any sounding device. Standing waves or eigentones are activated by vibrations from the lip, which is its vocal chord. It once had no valves to channel the vibrations into different chambers.

There are two extremes of trumpet sound. The brass sound obtained by an open embouchre, and what is known as a closed tone, where the brassier overtones are muffled and the sound becomes rounder, more like someone singing with lips barely open – even crooning or humming when the volume comes right down. More like a flugelhorn, which Stanko also plays, or even a French horn. The brassy and the introspective. Stanko’s play with these ancient elements is instantly recognizable.
Before being pushed into harshness the open sound can be gorgeous and shining. Stanko’s sudden arias of power are luminous and thrilling, yet also accompanied often by a rasp which might recall Roy Eldridge. Sometimes the rasp is dispensed with. Brilliant clear brass soars – yet here sometimes he will push the peak of volume until the sound thins out into a raking extreme of hard brass. These may remind the jazz connoiseur of sounds that go back as far, and further than, the territory bands. They may remind you sometimes of Rex Stewart with Duke Ellington. But they are deployed in as distinctive and contemporary a way as Lester Bowie.
Sometimes moving softly as a wraith within the quartet’s exquisite framework, Stanko’s sound takes on a particular weight at mid volume, a satisfying thickness; and of course a startling array of colours beyond that. Sometimes he seems to step and fly within the quartet’s delicate branches, in highly original lines; sometimes he sings in sweet brass, and sometimes rockets up, arcs, swerves and cascades. Pulse is always present, if sometimes implied, and these musicians have at their disposal an authoritative jazz momentum and swing when they chooose to lean into it. That would be always when the musical time is just right.
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Tuesday 1 November, 2005
one Sydney show at St James Church, King Street, City
Bookings: Full $60 / Concession $55
Special Concession SIMA members $50
Ticketmaster7: 1300 136 166 or www.ticketmaster7.com
(booking charges may apply)