Jazzfest Berlin’s 60th edition radiates copious amounts of oscillating energy from performers and audiences alike

Tickets for all concerts were sold out during this 60th edition of the ever-adventurous Jazzfest Berlin. Energised vibrations abounded, as audiences fully emerged, at last, from the trials of the last few years, perhaps accepting that this is now our lot forevermore, in these continually darkening times. In keeping with this august six-decade achievement, the weekender’s graphic presentation was more sober and refined than in recent years, basking in its text-and-colour calmness, less chaotic and slogan-centric. Of course, switching to subtle can have its own revolutionary power.

We can always expect key themes in artistic director Nadin Deventer’s programme, with ‘23 continuing a strong interest in the Chicago scene, as well as supporting Berlin artists, transmitting skills to young folks, and having a strong emphasis on the Scandinavian scene. There were also many other Americans present, and many other European cities represented. Not so much the UK, though, as it’s difficult to get a van across the border lately.

A new initiative was launched, with at least 60 children being part of the Jazzfest ImproCamp at various stages in the preceding weeks. This culminated in Apparitions, a ‘shaped improvisation’ involving the French quartet Novembre (led by saxophonist Antonin Tri-Hoang) and a group called Bribes, plus a cello threesome. Some of the kids were members of two choirs, so the palette for this ambitious performance was many-hued. Ambition became success, as each performing faction rose, moved forward, receded, then explored the Berliner Festspiele’s upper circle seating, playing with sound (relationships), light (emphases) and movement (unexpected). Inventive touches abounded, with ghostly melodies chosen for young voices, like an avant garde Michel Legrand soundtrack, eerily early-1960s in nature. Spatial arrangements were well-choreographed and atmospherically haunting.

Marta Warelis (left) and Kaja Draksler (right) – photo by Geert Vandepoele

Of course, this festival provides a prime environment for experiencing fresh performer permutations. The Slovenian pianist Kaja Draksler enjoys heading up different bands, penning tailored music for changing rosters, but her Berlin premiere involved another new setting, matter 100, a new group that provided one of the most striking sets of the entire weekend. Draksler courts electro-interference, forming a keyboard alliance with Marta Warelis, and arming the combo with the strafing electric guitar outbursts of Andy Moor, who’s also a member of The Ex. Unusual combinations were completed by the presence of singer Lena Hessels, who adopted no fixed influences stylistically. Warelis riffed, while Draksler hammered transgressive upright piano, as if part of a faded after-hours cabaret decline. A bursting bag of electro-fx yielded robo wild-things and calmer Robert Ashley tones. Then came that rare beast, the prepared hurdy-gurdy, courtesy of Samo Kutin. Draksler even used a vocoder, but the post-punk lines of Hessels were the best, especially her phrasing on ‘True Or False’, the set’s epic end-piece, in dialogue with Moor and his serrated axe. We won’t be hearing anything remotely similar to these innovative songs in the near future.

This year there were some particularly exciting sets away from the central Festspiele complex. Jazzfest always has satellite gigs at the A-Trane and Quasimodo clubs, a short trot northwards. The first night found Bonbon Flamme at the latter basement haunt. These shows always reach capacity, maximising the audience sizzle-factor. This deranged Flamme foursome is ostensibly led by the French cellist Valentin Ceccaldi, but most of the extroverted creative excess comes courtesy of wired guitarist Luis Lopes (Portugal) and mad scientist keyboardist Fulco Ottervanger (Belgium). Flamme flicker perpetually on the brink of non-control, but always manage to pierce the collective forehead with their ice-picks. Mass overload is their game, although quiet sequences do slip through the filter, but not when Lopes is hurtling deep inside another savage detonation riff, spider-legs splayed, visage contorted. The band tolls and toils as one drum-boom bombast, but also offers a whistling glide of Morricone tranquillity.

Bonbon Flamme – photo by Geert Vandepoele

A few blocks away lies A-Trane, a tiny corner space with a titanic status on the Berlin scene. Jazzfest’s final-night peak boasted a double bill of Melting Pot and Omawi, both providing inspirational sets in their very contrasting ways. Melting Pot is an annual circumstance initiated by five international promoters, each selecting an improviser to form a quintet of spontaneously combusting creators. Here at the Berlin showing the approach turned out to be one of  jumping straight in and maintaining a heavy pitch of intensity, without any receding of imagination or excitement. The most familiar participant to your scribe is Louise van den Heuvel (electric bass), a member of Dishwasher_, from Belgium. The others are new faces: Tuva Halse (violin), Mona Matbou Riahi (clarinet), Camila Nebbia (tenor saxophone) and Hubert Zemler (drums). Shooting high, the clarinet is tense, the tenor climbing in its high, painful zone, the players cascading in cycles, soaked and submerged dub bass depth rattling the walls of the club, drums relentless. Halse’s violin is dry and unamplified, making it stand apart sonically, cutting sharply.

The Dutch trio of Omawi conversely develop some of the subtlest sonics of the entire festival, as Marta Warelis (piano), Wilbert de Joode (acoustic bass) and Onno Govaert (drums) explore near-silent relationships. The audience holds its breath. This music is more jazz-related than the abstract solo sets of Warelis, adopting a free improvising structure that emphatically arises from the piano trio foundation. De Joode is unusually to the fore, where we can relish the sheer grain of his bowed statements, each granular aspect magnified in the extreme. He still imparts a gentle rip to his edges, though. Warelis is light-touching yet powerful in her fleetness of phrasing. Progress is made via three-way pointillist implication. Omawi are leaders in ultra-minimalism, as a long pause leads to the solemn darkness that precedes a ritualistic slam-piano conclusion.