Graeme Stephen Septet
OneTouch Theatre, Eden Court, Inverness, 3 March 2010
WE ARE very fortunate in Scotland to have musicians who move freely between the worlds of traditional, classical, jazz and world music, enriching and developing their music and their playing.
Take, for example, classically trained Shetland fiddler Chris Stout, who back in January could be seen playing in no less than four different genres during Celtic Connections; in his own Brasilian Theory, with Salsa Celtica and the True North Orchestra, and in the Fiddle Summit. Later this month he’s back at Eden Court with his successful traditional outfit, Fiddlers’ Bid, but at the OneTouch last night he was just part of the formidable string section of Aberdonian Graeme Stephen’s jazz combo.
Jazz cello may not be something that readily springs to mind, but having heard Ben Davis echoing a viola da gamba when paired with maestro Mario Caribe’s bowed string bass, it may be hard to adjust to life without it. On the other side of the stage, the brilliant saxophone pairing of Phil Bancroft on tenor and Fraser Fifield on soprano gave rise to many of the evening’s most memorable moments, particularly in the lyrically melodic, heart-tugging solos on ‘Calanais’.
In the centre, holding it all together, were the rhythm pairing of jazz drummer of the year Stuart Ritchie, and on guitar, the self-effacing Stephen himself. The programme consisted of tunes from his new album, Vantage Points, which includes a suite written last year and inspired by places which had affected him, including Callanish, Ardnamurchan, and Leven.
The first half of the evening was impressive, but the second half produced some of the most beautiful music and masterful playing that this reviewer has ever had the pleasure to hear. In ‘Shut’, which demonstrated the full dynamic range of his drumkit, Ritchie’s bowing on the cymbals assisted Davis’ bowing below the bridge to create an eerie but fresh audio landscape which led into a sweet yearning melody, underpinned by the most delicately crafted percussion imaginable.
‘Calanais’ opened with the sort of shapeless atonality towards which it is hard for any but the true jazz aficonado to be partial, before pulling itself together into a taut, rhythm-driven thing, lapsing back temporarily into chaos and then regrouping into a glorious, haunting melody. It was followed by the very lovely ‘Turns’, opening with a solo for ‘Happy Apple’ toy bells (Ritchie’s small daughter will be inconsolable for the duration of the tour), and leading into a breathtaking fiddle solo by Stout, before the soloist’s baton was passed onto Fraser Fifield’s soprano sax.
‘Still’ and encore ‘Steady On’ continued the level of outstanding musical excellence which left the audience feeling privileged to have been present. The only thing lacking in this otherwise perfect evening was cabaret-style seating, but that’s a minor quibble.
© Jennie Macfie, 2010