©GayCityNews 2007
11/21/2007
Against Type
By: ANDREY HENKIN
In the realm of '60s European free improvisation, pianist Irene Schweizer
inhabited a strange role as one of the few Swiss musicians, one of the even
fewer women, and seemingly the only documented lesbian.
These may seem like artificial distinctions, but in a genre dominated by a
hyper-masculine German archetype, Schweizer, at least demographically, was
very much in the minority.
Her playing, though, made her accepted -- a remarkable synthesis of the entire
history of piano, from Art Tatum and Thelonious Monk to Cecil Taylor and Alexander
von Schlippenbach. Her style is not typically feminine or recognizably Swiss
or even "homosexual" (however that would manifest itself); rather
it is a seminal part of the European improvisatory tradition.
During a solo performance as part of a short American tour, at Roulette in
Soho on November 12, Schweizer's prodigious technique and amazing amalgamation
of disparate styles was on clear display.
The only thing Swiss about the performance was its precision. Like a clockmaker,
Schweizer presented four improvisations -- the first two each exactly 15 minutes
and the final pair both five. Two brief encores added up to another five minutes
and so, with no inter-song banter, the entire set was exactly 45 minutes.
Brief, but when so many free improvisers leave listeners wanting less, Schweizer's
restraint was admirable.
During those 45 minutes, the audience was treated to a clinic in the entire
history of jazz piano -- not chronologically but integrated organically in
the finest tradition of Jaki Byard. What began as a piano fantasy moved into
percussive ruminations -- Schweizer has recorded a slew of albums in duo with
various drummers - followed by mischievous melodic flittings, all punctuated
by occasional footstamps that reverberated through the salon-like atmosphere.
Her second improvisation initially was based in train-like movement that morphed
into sections of well-intentioned density alternating with delicate sparseness,
much of the harmonic development coming in parallel motion between right and
left hands.
The two briefer pieces kept up the distinctiveness. The first occurred entirely
within the piano's body, Schweizer plucking strings, hitting them with mallets
or scraping them with finger-cymbals, yet still creating a cohesive melodic
statement.
The second was the most traditional with allusions made to her earlier influences,
yet still intervallically wide and manipulative.
The two encores, Monk's "Oska T" and an improvisation that seemed
like a postbop composition, landed the performance smoothly on the runway,
referencing some of the earlier emotional shifts while compacting the approach
into renderings not inappropriate to a pre-war 78.