The Gruppo Romano Free Jazz first convened in 1966; the early history of the ensemble can be consulted on Splasc(h) CDH 509.2. Thirty-six years later these veterans of Italy’s free-jazz scene step out on the stage of Rome’s Teatro Olimpico in front of an audience of 1400, playing as the opening act for Cecil Taylor. Schiano is as always one of the most likeable characters in free jazz; any congregation of players with him in it is more likely to sound like a bunch of old pals than an austere sound laboratory. The two rambling, good-humoured improvisations on Free Jazz at the Philharmonic often find the players working raucous but affectionate commentaries on some favourite jazz standards. Part One gets a bit hung up on guying “All the Things You Are” in the middle, while Part Two touches on everything from Monk’s “Friday the 13th” to a blues and a closing evocation of “Lover Man” (perhaps prompted by Schiaffini’s recent Billie Holiday project?). The second improvisation gains an extra fillip from the addition of Schiaffini’s protégé Sebi Tramontana to the lineup, prompting some outlandish sound-effects and sparky interplay from the two trombonists. Though this brief CD is hardly a major musical document, it’s a worthwhile listen for anyone with an affection for these veterans of the Italian jazz scene.

I suspect that in another context I’d enjoy the playing of Mauro Grossi and Andrea Dulbecco – fleet and capable players both of them – but the bare vibes-piano duet format of Summer Suite makes for an uneventful hour of demurely chiming consonance. The music has all of the sweetness of a Chick Corea/Gary Burton duet but none of the caloric content. Listeners with a higher threshold of tolerance for sugar than mine might enjoy this CD, since within its stylistic parameters it’s certainly well-executed. (The one bum note, near the end of “Better Days Past,” is almost shocking because it’s so untypical of the smooth virtuosity and perfection of the rest of the album.) But still, it’s a thin diet, as one might gather from the repetitiously smiley-face titles: “Sweet and Gentle,” “Better Days Past,” “Sweet Suite,” “Happy Birthday,” etc. And, no, “Crisscross” isn’t the Monk tune but an original – a pity, since Monk’s tune is a natural for this instrumentation given that Milt Jackson played on the original recording. Davide Ielmini’s liner notes, by the way, state that the duet’s music reminds him of Jacques Loussier, Dave Grusin, and (ahem) Uri Caine: take that for what it’s worth.

It’s a pity that there’s not much in the way of liner notes to accompany Cercando La Tigre, a new release by an intriguing sextet led by drummer Francesco D’Auria and guitarist Maurizio Aliffi. The band has one of the oddest instrumental combinations I’ve ever seen on a jazz album, and it would have been nice to know how the leaders settled on it. The wind-instrument lineup of clarinet, soprano saxophone and tuba is odd enough, but the oddity is compounded on half of the tracks when Arcari puts down his saxophone and instead plays oboe d’amore (an oboe pitched in the alto range).

Despite what one might expect the album sounds anything but stylishly postmodern or self-consciously quirky. It’s propulsive music in a sophisticated modern-jazz vein, although the softer-edged instrumentation gives it a vibe equally attuned to folksong or ethnic musics. (In this regard, the music is comparable to some of the work coming out of France’s ARFI organization, and Godard’s presence certainly suggests there’s a connection.) Influences aren’t easy to pin down here, though probably Dave Holland’s somewhere in the mix; in fact, on “Alidà” there’s what appears to be a lift from Conference of the Birds. The album benefits from a strong set of originals, constructed over the leaders’ fluid, dancing grooves, and there’s some sharp playing from everyone concerned. Mirabassi’s clarinet is a tad glib, perhaps – he’s sometimes tempted into impressive but bland arabesques. Arcari, though, whom I’d only previously encountered as a regular with Franz Koglmann’s groups, turns in some striking work: his peppery oboe d’amore playing hasn’t a trace of classical decorousness about it. I’ve already enthused about Godard in these pages in connection with another Splasc(h) disc, the remarkable Atem. Suffice it to say that in this more conventional jazz context he’s equally strong, whether substituting for the bassist on some tracks or playing on others the role of a trombonist. He seems to have an especially close relationship with D’Auria, and there are several spots on this album where the other players drop out to permit them to engage in a barebones tuba-drums dialogue. Like much else about this album, such a proceeding sounds outlandish on paper, but actually works extremely well on disc. A recommended recording.

The Luca Donini Quartet’s Angel is slick but sometimes entertaining fusion. The relentlessly high-gloss production is rather wearying, and (as so often with this type of music) chops are rather too prominently on display. Still, that can have its guilty pleasures: the guitarist’s solo feature, “Ariel,” for instance, is an entertainingly hyperactive blizzard of picking. (Sure enough, the bassist’s feature is called “To Jaco.”) The leader’s soprano playing is bland, and two tracks on the disc are rendered completely unlistenable by his use of that noxious invention, the Akay EWI 1000 Electric Wind Instrument; elsewhere, though, he gets in some telling tenor solos. There’s some charming dabbling in exoticism on “Dhair” and “Tarab,” tight blowing on “My Sill” and “Riff In Do,” and an uncharacteristic and rather good essay in free jazz, “Ritual,” decidedly reminiscent of Ornette’s work with Metheny on Song X. Such tracks help balance out the disc’s duds, such as the blowsy title-tune.

Nate Dorward

Cadence, February 2003