The prolific Ivo Perelman seems to have done it all, but in fact the free saxophonist and Matthew Shipp collaborator has worked with only two vocalists during the course of his long career: his compatriot Flora Purim who was already a Brazilian hero and a fusion icon when she brought her steep range and airy bossa nova and jazz stylings to his breakthrough albums Ivo and Children of Ibeji with their candomblé rhythms and folk motifs; and the Czech actress turned violinist and songstress Iva Bittová.
Now add Fay Victor to the mix, whose freeform theatrics proffer a rare match for Perelman’s own improvisational manner, her penchant for wailing scats and conversational chatter capable of meeting his upper-register squalls and trenchant though sometimes overcast lyricism, at least on paper.
Earlier this year Victor rode Chris Tordini’s acoustic bass all the way down in a dolorous homage to David Lynch, Peter Ivers and the chipmunk cheeks and squirrelly aspect of the Lady in the Radiator, a calamity dance atop Vinnie Sperrazza’s tumbling drums while the twining reed of Charlotte Greve’s alto saxophone provided the tether. And after that rendition of ‘In Heaven’ with The Choir Invisible, the vocalist with Michaël Attias on alto and baritone saxophones, Anthony Coleman on the piano, Ratzo Harris on bass and Tom Rainey on drums presented for the first time a full programme of lyrics for a selection of material by Herbie Nichols, the pianist and composer who remains best known as the co-writer of the Billie Holiday standard ‘Lady Sings the Blues’. A decade in the making, the Herbie Nichols SUNG project included a ‘Descent Into Madness’, the elegant though vampy and boozy ‘Tonight’, a swinging ‘Shuffle Montgomery’ and bluesy ‘Sinners, All of Us!’ and the album’s title piece ‘Life Is Funny That Way’.
Meanwhile the rapacious Perelman has been on a tear, though he took a more reserved and overtly lyrical bent on some of his latest works, eliding the labours of the day and tentatively Embracing the Unknown alongside Chad Fowler on the stritch and saxello with Reggie Workman on the double bass and Andrew Cyrille on drums comprising a legendary rhythm section, then slipping into a mellower groove with new collaborative partners Mark Helias and Tom Rainey for the samba-licked spiritualism of Truth Seeker.
That record on the Polish label Fundacja Słuchaj was squeezed between a rare outing with a larger ensemble on Seven Skies Orchestra and the trio album Ephemeral Shapes with Aruán Ortiz and Ramón López. Never out of the recording studio, there have been fresh duo albums with Nate Wooley, Elliott Sharp and the drummer Tom Rainey, an offshoot of those Truth Seeker sessions, while some of that renewed emphasis on melodicism was apparent on Water Music by the Ivo Perelman Quartet, before the saxophonist settled in with his favourite dance partner, the pianist Matthew Shipp for a Magical Incantation which no less an authority than Shipp himself described as ‘a major major statement in jazz history. It is the height of the work I’ve done with Ivo and the height of what can be done in a duo setting with piano’.
Messa Di Voce with Fay Victor, where the saxophonist and singer are accompanied by Joe Morris on bass and the drummer López, staggers and careens from its first moments as Victor engages in a tipsy then headlong display of scatting and vocalese, sometimes teeth chattering while Perelman’s tenor conjures the sound of air rushing out of a balloon. Divided into two sides or parts of four and then five movements, the second piece begins as a steeped ritual before becoming more rubbery and dizzying with a few rasping snarls.
The title refers to the singing technique messa di voce, a type of ornament whereby the vocalist executes a crescendo and decrescendo or diminuendo while carrying a long sustained tone. Described as a technique of swelling tones, Victor might approach the practise on some of the rowdier tracks from Messa Di Voce, where Perelman’s saxophone and her voice approach the same register, though her habit during these freakouts and breakdowns is for shorter phrases, sudden cutoffs, snarls and stabs.
On the other hand the third track from the album is more hushed and only faintly babbling, like an aria being performed out at sea. Then on the final movement of the first side, the short squibs and squeals of Ivo Perelman’s tenor sax splay out over a supple mesh of bass and drums, from rattles and creaks to whirlpools and eddies as the musicians gather momentum before grinding or yawning to a halt. Over the second side of Messa Di Voce the phrases are more sustained, the melodies are both sparer and more pronounced and Fay Victor’s vocals are more breathy and bluesy when they do appear, with the fifth movement through operatic recitative reaching a final wailing denouement.
These two new albums by Ivo Perelman stem from six or seven years ago, with little to explain the delay from an author who is usually fairly prompt as he publishes release after release. His collaboration with Iva Bittová predates Messa Di Voce by a few months, as it was recorded in the fall of 2017, with a frequent partner in the bassist Michael Bisio deftly filling in the gaps.
A trio album, Vox Popoli Vox Dei is a throbbing and nagging, buzzing and sputtering record with folk-inflected melodies from the Czech Republic and Brazil as Bittová saws away on her violin and sings soaring improvisations, while Bisio bows receptively between the two leads. There are temperate moments amid the avant-garde abstractions, and on the third and final long piece warm brassy tones emphasise the Latinate qualities of both saxophonist and singer, like a flamenco rhythm which has been shattered, glued back together and then slowly stretched apart, with Perelman’s tenor saxophone playing trumpet fanfares and a bit of freak folk towards the close, accompanied by Bittová’s moans and bleats.
