Reykjavik Jazz Festival: rediscovering the Icelandic scene, with bonus players arriving from nearby Nordic lands

The Reykjavik Jazz Festival embraces a broad span of the music, taking in traditional styles, but also getting into extreme guitar riffing and abstract freeness. There's a thoughtful balance at play, mostly governed by artistic director Jón Ómar Árnason. Post-2020 editions have been heavily tilted towards Icelandic acts, but this is now changing, even if quite slowly. The core programme is presented at the imposingly impressive Harpa concert hall, opened in 2011, and looming on the seafront, with an exterior that looks like a complete covering of oddly-angled luminous glass telephone boxes, scintillating under the sun's light.

One of the most exciting tearaway sets was actually provided by a Norwegian-Swedish combo, Gard Nilssen's Acoustic Unity. Given their drummer-leader's recent discography on the We Jazz and ECM labels, we can easily understand how they achieved this status. Along with reedsman André Roligheten and bassist Petter Eldh, Nilssen has been refining a remarkable rapport over the last decade. Acoustic Unity still rip out as in days of yore, but they've also developed a calmer aspect, a tendency to shape atmospheric landscapes. Roligheten masters a changeling vocabulary, beginning on tenor saxophone, switching to soprano, and then bass clarinet, to suit the requirements of each number. He even swaps horns during the course of an individual composition. The pieces are penned by him and Nilssen, offering further mood-diversity. Eldh has requested gut-strings for his borrowed bass, and the tactile results are brutally evident. Nilssen deploys fleet brushes, giving a direct and simple solo, leading into 'Spending Time With Ludwig', a tune with an Ornettian flavour, simultaneously sounding like a hymn. They swing, with 'Influx Delight', Ornette Coleman-descended again, a frantic scrabble with regular resolutions. Roligheten also has a flute in his rack, but he can still blow soprano and tenor simultaneously, in the Roland Kirk manner. Not many players can manage this nowadays. Nilssen drives hard on 'Til Liv', as fluttering tenor ascends, percussion becoming sensitively detailed. Eldh plays with 'loose' string resonance, very physical but retaining some ghost of delicate expression.

Five-piece Gork – Photo by Hans Vera

There were, of course, several actual Icelandic stand-outs, as well as a pan-Scandinavian combo who raised the levels high. The five-piece Gork had a decidedly electric sound, led by drummer-composer Óskar Kjartansson, although it was the twinned tenor saxophonists, and electric guitar-and-bass that provided much of the nervous energy. Jazz-rock of a modern vintage ensued, with fractured riffs and combined tones hovering. Slow guitar embellishments built, with tenors snaking untamed, an alto sometimes chosen as a tenor alternative. Guitars and horns continually exchanged spotlight positions, while the drums pummelled in complex fashion.

The Nordic Quintet arrived from Finland, Sweden and Denmark, corralled by the Icelandic trumpeter Ari Bragi Kárason. A classic formation of drums, bass, piano and tenor saxophone formed the spread, setting their controls for hardcore jazz, at the service of brisk themes. Drums stoked, tenor was tough, and Kárason was sparkling. They landed in the midst of a silken horn theme, leading to a piano trio climax, the Swedish Karl-Martin Almquist returning with another paramount tenor solo, pushed hard by the bass.

The Nordic Quintet - Photo by Hans Vera

On the festival’s first day of five, the Reykjavik Big Band were joined by the Danish pianist and composer Kathrine Windfeld, striking up a marked working rapport. The RBB have been together for over three decades, this time out shaping an introductory tonal spread, then orbiting the darker ‘Jupiter’, cultivating momentum as Windfeld and bassist Birgir Steinn Theodórsson took stirring solos. ‘Harvest’ had a mixture of moods, but was mostly set in the dark season. There were many soloing showcases for band members, including soprano and tenor saxophones, trombone and bass. During ‘Aldebaran’, the bass and ‘bone provided bullish thrusting punctuations, introducing another windingly restless Windfeld solo. The concluding piece was ‘Undertow’, with swarming trombones, and horn ranks staggered for staccato action, topped by a fierce alto solo.

Your scribe listened to a very imaginative trio improvisation album by guitarist Daníel Helgason, but the trio he brought to the festival was disappointingly tame by comparison. Shockingly mellow, this lay more in the nether world of Bill Frisell, floating and abstract, like sonic driftwood. There was a funereal creeper, but a following slow ballad riff-crawl benefited from some retro-twangy phrases. It was expected from prior Bandcamp experience that Helgason would dwell more on the Gork side of the street.

The foursome of Jónsson, Jónsson, Hemstock & Gröndal had Ólafur Jónsson and Haukur Gröndal sharing the soprano, alto, tenor and baritone saxophone spaces, making for a punchy approach, as a New Orleans variant grew. This seemed to be called ‘The March Of The Morons’. There was also ‘The March Of Shame’ to close, but this sounded way more positive than its title, making a honking waddle, and then a bold, outgoing strut, topped by a sturdy baritone solo.

Throughout the festival there were late afternoon freebie gigs in the Jorgenson and Jómfruin restaurants, plus lunchtime gigs at both joints on the weekend. These included fine sets by saxophonist Albert Sölvi, guitarist Mikael Máni, the Hot Club Of Iceland and the Bjössi Thor Band. There were a pair of church gigs on the Sunday, with the Czech Republic ensemble HLASkontraBAS matching acoustic basses with folkish voices in Frikirkjan. There could have been less singing and more string-action. Then the trumpeter Tuni Torfason organised quite an ambitious programme of varying-sized groupings, culminating in a big band blow-out at Dómkirkjan. There were perhaps too many duo, trio and quartet sections, given the mass of players on hand, but the repertoire enjoyed a wholesome arc of development.

There were also strong sets from the Benjamin Gísli Trio (sensitive piano lyricism), the Ásgeir Ásgeirsson Quartet (healthily B3 Hammond Wes Montgomery homage), and the Freysteinn Quartet (featuring Hilmar Jenssen on guitar, creating angular plates of doom-prog tone, then bending them slightly)

RJF was well organised throughout, taking the route of having no time-clashes between acts, making it possible to catch every band. It also gained from a broad range of musical approaches, from the mainstream to the manic. Hopefully, next year the festival will make more of a return to inviting artists from a wider range of European lands, or even a few Americans.