Reviews on The Flatlands Collective

Review in Downbeat June 2009, by Bill Meyer *** (3 stars)

The word “maatjes” has a double meaning in Dutch, referring to mates and a raw herring dish that is a delicacy in Holland. The title captures the spirit of this ensemble, both its camaraderie and essential Dutchness.

The Flatlands Collective is a quintet of Chicagoans convened by Dutch saxophonist Jorrit Dijkstra. In the album’s liner notes, Dijkstra explains that while American music has impacted his own since he was a kid, that influence has been filtered through the Netherlands’ peculiar take on jazz.  The sidemen he’s selected are sufficiently attuned to improvisational developments on both sides of the Atlantic that they aren’t thrown by his everything on a plate compositional approach. Whether it’s reimagining Terry Riley-style minimalism as march music on “In D Flat Minor”, laying down soulful Sun Ra worship on “Scirocco Song” or negotiating the abrupt shifts between disciplined, downbeat swing passages and episodes of agitated improvisation on “Druil”, they render his often challenging material with vivid clarity.

The American Flatlanders don’t just play Dijkstra’s tunes; they inhabit them, bearing down on a burner like “Phil’s Tesora” with the all-for-one enthusiasm of real mates. Dijkstra capitalizes on the band’s spirit by playing a splendidly gnarled alto on that track, and elsewhere his grainy, retro-futuristic electronics contrast strikingly with the cleanly executed horn charts. It adds up to a rewarding record by a band with a singular identity.

Review in Allaboutjazz.com, January 16 2009, by Troy Collins

Named for the geographic similarity between the American Mid-West and the Netherlands, the Flatlands Collective is a mid-sized ensemble of Chicago-based musicians operating under the leadership of Dutch saxophonist and electronics manipulator Jorrit Dijkstra. A seamless integration of nostalgic European melodies, futuristic minimalism, and spontaneous free jazz, Dijkstra's cantilevered compositions unveil layers of detailed nuance on Maatjes, the sophomore effort of this international collective.

The ensemble's core line-up is virtually unchanged since their debut, Gnomade (Skycap, 2006). Clarinetist James Falzone, trombonist Jeb Bishop, cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm, and bassist Jason Roebke make return appearances, with drummer Tim Mulvenna replaced by Frank Rosaly. Some of the Windy City's finest improvisers, these internationally astute Chicagoans handle Dijkstra's mercurial Dutch aesthetic with empathetic aplomb, trafficking in a wild and wooly blend of harmonious free improvisation.

Dijkstra's multifaceted writing employs elements of free improvisation, yet generally embraces conventional tonal centers that are more melodious than dissonant. Inspired by the seminal work of Steve Reich, Terry Riley, and LaMonte Young, "Partially Overdone" and "In D Flat Minor" each explore a different aspect of the minimalist tradition. The former unfolds at a glacial pace, ushering in waves of dense, chromatic overtones. The later knits interlocking segments into a hypnotic contrapuntal theme, spotlighting the leader's intervallic alto—enhanced by a buzzing sheet metal mute.

Unveiling opulent harmonies, "Micro Mood" revels in the honeyed melodies of the old-world while "The Gate" and "Druil" each paint atmospheric tone poems; one portrays San Francisco at night, the other Dijkstra's homeland.

Exploring more assertive territory, "Phil's Tesora" features a rousing anthem that careens with rock-like intensity over quicksilver rhythms, while the muscular dirge "Mission Rocker" vacillates in pitch and dynamics. The rambunctious improvisation "Maatjes 2" is even more intense, pitting acoustic and electric instruments against one another in a torrid bout of call and response.

While all of the members of the collective make stirring contributions, it is the leader's fervid alto and analog synthesizer that make the greatest impressions. Dijkstra pairs his Lyricon synth with Lonberg-Holm's EFX pedals, conjuring undulating waves of feedback and crackling noise loops, most notably on the groovy Sun Ra dedication, "Scirocco Song."

Tuneful yet adventurous, Maatjes reveals the missing link between Chicago jazz and the famously capricious Dutch jazz scene. Dijkstra's Flatlands Collective is a vision of the future of jazz, today.

Review in Downbeat August 2007, by Bill Shoemaker **** (4 stars)

By all practical measure, Jorrit Dijkstra leads the Flatlands Collective, having organized the sextet during an extended Chicago residency and composing a bit more than half of the 11 compositions on Gnomade. However, the Dutch saxophonist understands that there is no sense bringing on such distinctive composers/improvisers like trombonist Jeb Bishop without giving them a share of the franchise. Additionally, Dijkstra hears the stylistic diversity within the networks that link his cohorts, and gives it space not just to breathe, but also occasionally to snort, howl and laugh riotously. Still, the music has a discernable Dutch tinge, which is alternately audacious and austere.

Dijkstra’s pieces fall into two categories: tunes that layer catchy motives and longer, piquant melodies to create push-pull rhythmic feels, and episodic pieces that range freely between open collage passages and tightly scripted ensembles. “Five to Twelve” offers a prime example of the former. Dijkstra deftly arranged the tune using saxophone and trombone to supply a jazzy bounce, and James Falzone’s clarinet and Fred Lonberg-Holm’s cello for a scrappier texture.

The 10-minute plus “Flank” exemplifies the latter, running the gamut from a dramatically heaving Ornette Coleman-ish theme to an engagingly astringent unaccompanied Falzone solo. The pieces by the other ensemble members have a range that complements Dijkstra’s. Bishop’s “Rabbits” has a lilting swing and bright changes, while bassist Jason Roebke’s aptly titled “Longtones” hovers like fog, slowly dissipating as the ensemble’s heat rises.

This music has a lot of moving parts. Keeping them synchronized is a credit to each member of the Collective, but the exemplary tandem work of Roebke and drummer Tim Mulvenna merits special attention.

Review in Downtown Music Gallery,  26 October 2007, by  Bruce Gallanter

THE FLATLANDS COLLECTIVE [w/ JORRIT DIJSKTRA & JEB BISHOP] - Gnomade (Skycap 035; Germany) Featuring Jorrit Dijkstra on alto sax, lyricon & analog synth, Jeb Bishop on trombone, James Falzone on clarinet, Fred Lonberg-Holm on cello, Jason Roebke on bass and Tim Mulvenna on drums. Dutch saxist, Jorrit Dijkstra, lives in Boston and more than a dozen discs out as a leader or collaborator on labels Songlines, Bvhaast & Geestgronden, as well as his own label Trytone. On this disc, Jorrit is collaborating with a number of musicians from Chicago. Besides his trusty alto sax, Jorrit plays a lyricon, an old electric sax-like device that adventurous saxists used in the seventies. "Wire Tap" opens with a quirky theme in which all of the frontine players swirl around one another (alto sax, clarinet, trombone and cello), playing a few ever-shifting lines. The title piece features a strange analog intro, yet soon the charted horns play their circular parts. I dig the way the bass and drums play intricate together while the rest of the players improvise in short spurts. Each piece is set-up differently, with layers of inter-connected musicians playing in different combinations, almost as is a few different songs are played at the same time. On "Five to Twelve", the cello, bass and drums seem to playing one charted piece while the three horns play a series different combinations. Tight but loose as well. Sounds like Jorrit is cueing certain events to take place while other subgroup(s) play something else. On "Flank" Jorrit leads the other horns in a slightly bent chorus twisted harmonies, it eventually quiets down so that the clarinet can take a long solo that evolves through other sections building back up to a swell swirling conclusion. Even the sparse, free-ish "Amp Doodler" seems to have some charted or directed focus, nothing is haphazard or what it may seem. When you least expect it, a song with a sly melody like "Rabbits" appears and gives the clarinetist a chance to solo at length, while everyone else swirls tightly around him. "Longtones" is a haunting, slow-moving work that features the cello and bass playing cerebral drones with some splendid mallet work by Mulvenna and dream-like horns floating on top. "The 4:08" sounds like one of those intense trombone-led songs on the recent Basement Research CD, when it begins, but soon breaks down into fragmented cello insanity. Each piece on this great disc is filled with surprising twists and turns and unique combinations of players and directions. Quite a wonderful offering! – BLG

Article in Amsterdamweekly.nl by Peter Margasak, January 2008

Jazz: The Flatlands Collective

Jorrit Dijkstra seems to want musical projects in every port of call, and the Flatlands Collective is the group that joins him in America’s Midwest, a fine crew with some of Chicago’s best players that certainly exude some Dutch flavour. Most of the musicians—clarinetist James Falzone, trombonist Jeb Bishop, cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm, bassist Jason Roebke and drummer Tim Mulvenna—contribute tunes, so the group’s excellent debut album Gnomade (Skycap) bristles with variety. What makes the music cohere is the attention given to the arrangements, and how they encourage, propel and interact with the improvisations. Traces of many disparate traditions converge, from delicate chamber music to airy West Coast jazz and even Dixieland, but rather than deliver some glib post-modern mash-up, the various ingredients are present thanks to their emphasis on group interplay. Even when Dijkstra takes centre-stage his fluid lines on both the alto-saxophone and the Lyricon—an analogue wind synth from the ’70s—are cajoled and caressed spontaneously by other members.

Recensie in Soundlikejazz.be door Johan Vandendriessche 13/09/2007

Jorrit Dijkstra (1966) is een afwisselend in Chicago en Amsterdam verblijvende en spelende altsaxofonist en Lyriconspeler die studeerde bij Misha Mengelberg, Steve Coleman, Steve Lacy en Lee Hyla, en daarna met o.m. Anthony Braxton, Gerry Hemingway, Marty Ehrlich, Herb Robertson, Barre Phillips, Marc Ducret, John Butcher, Willem Breuker en Guus Janssen optrad. Hij kreeg in 1998 een beurs om te studeren en daarna ook les te geven aan het New England Conservatory in Boston. The Flatlands Collective bestaat verder uit James Falzone (klarinet), Jeb Bishop (trombone), Fred Lonberg-Holm (cello), Jason Roebke (contrabas) en Tim Mulvena (drums). The Flatlands Collective brengt muziek die enerzijds vrij is, dus met vrije improvisatie, maar ook met heel wat compositie. Jorrit toont in zijn spel de invloeden van Paul Desmond, John Zorn, en natuurlijk Ornette Coleman (de godfather van de freejazz). Hij maakt zeer dankbaar, maar spaarzaam gebruik van analoge synthesisers, en van de lyricon, een ding dat ongeveer als een saxofoon wordt bespeeld, en een analoge synthesiser aanstuurt. Daarmee werkt hij zeer smaakvol en vaak valt het zelfs niet op dat hij daarmee aan het spelen is. De meeste composities zijn van Dijkstra zelf, en het geheel is enerzijds duidelijk schatplichtig aan het oeuvre van Ornette Coleman, maar toont anderzijds een meer esthetiserende, "blanke" tendens, die ons wat meer aan sommige Europese avant-garde doet denken. Het ensemble speelt mooi, maar mocht soms wat energieker uit de hoek komen. De muziek en de mixing is misschien wel een beetje vlak, alhoewel ene Howard Reich in The Chicago Tribune moet geschreven hebben over deze band: "...anything but flat."

Recensie in www.kwadratuur.be door Koen van Meel, januari 2008

De Nederlandse saxofonist Jorrit Dijkstra is actief in Amsterdam, Boston en Chicago. Deze laatste stad is de thuishaven van zijn Flatlands Collective, de band waarvoor Dijkstra zich omringt met vijf Amerikaanse musici, waaronder trombonist Jeb Bishop en cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm. De aanwezigheid van deze laatste zorgt, samen met de klarinet van James Falzone en de altsax van Dijkstra zelf, voor een lichte sound die geschraagd wordt door drummer Tim Mulvenna en bassist Jason Roebke. Op enkele tracks vult Dijkstra dit geluid aan met een analoge synthesizer of lyricon, maar deze elektronische klanken lijken geen essentieel bestanddeel voor het verhaal van het Flatlands Collective. De bezetting van de groep leent zich tot het uitwerken van een groepsgeluid dat duidelijk primeert op de individuele ambities van de muzikanten. Ook in geïmproviseerde passages klinkt een grote samenhang door en laat het Flatlands Collective zich horen als een hechte band en niet als een reeks solisten. Een gelijkaardige benadering is terug te vinden in het repertoire dat balanceert tussen uitgeschreven composities en improvisatie waarbij de grens tussen de twee bij momenten vervaagt. De combinatie van het groepsgevoel en de muzikale souplesse stelt het collectief in staat om veel verschillende settings opzoeken. Zo kan de groep met de circushoempa van 'The 4:08' of struinende gezelligheid van 'Dipje' heerlijk speels voor de dag komen. In 'Mute' klinken Dijkstra en Bishop dan weer als twee naast elkaar kwekkende tienermeisjes, waarbij een klankverandering bij de ene meteen een gelijkaardige reactie uitlokt bij de andere. In andere stukken wordt dan weer met tijd en ruimte gespeeld. De dissonante samenklanken van het breed openliggende 'Slitch' doen denken aan hedendaagse klassieke muziek en in 'Longtones' vormen de flexibele basriff en de lange noten van de andere muzikanten een soundscape die niet in een vaste vorm wil kruipen. De stukken die het meeste indruk maken zijn echter diegenen waarin de muziek verschillende gedaanten aanneemt en waarbij het uitgeschreven element duidelijk naar voor komt: Dijkstra's 'Wire Tap', 'Flank' of 'Five to Twelve' met het huppelende thema en de hoekige gestapelde ritmes. Het meest expliciete voorbeeld is 'Rabbits' van Jeb Bishop. De uitgeschreven swing plooit terug op een klarinetsolo waar de anderen geleidelijk aan bijschuiven om zo over te gaan in een collectieve improvisatie. Wanneer Dijkstra vervolgens het voortouw neemt wordt hij begeleid door een hard strijkende Lonberg-Holm die zo, zuiver akoestisch, voor een distortioneffect zorgt. Wanneer deze laatste strijkend en plukkend op de voorgrond komt en later in duo speelt met Roebke wordt het klankbeeld weer lichter, de ideale opstap naar een terugkeer van het hoofdthema. Een van de weinige muzikale spectra die het Flatlands Collective niet opzoekt is dat van de zuivere muzikale krachtexplosie. Naar het einde van 'Flank' lijkt de groep even daarop af te stevenen, maar Roebke's bas volgt de toenemende animositeit niet. Dit mag en kan de pret op het album 'Gnomade' echter niet drukken: Dijkstra's muziek en muzikanten hebben immers meer dan genoeg in huis om de afwezige rauwe energie te compenseren.

Recensie in Jazzenzo.nl ndoor Tim Sprangers, januari 2008

Flatlands Collective is totaal niet vlak. Bimhuis Amsterdam, Flatlands Collective, 10 januari 2008. beeld: Thomas Huisman. door: Tim Sprangers

Hangend tussen Amerika en Nederland vond saxofonist Jorrit Dijkstra in Chicago muzikanten die zijn visie deelden. Grenzen worden opgezocht: wanneer verliest muziek zijn spanning? Wat is de ideale balans tussen compositie en improvisatie? Dijkstra is er van overtuigd dat er een hoger niveau wordt bereikt als de musici een andere bodem van opvoeding en inspiratie hebben.

De interpretatie van muziek is afhankelijk van de afkomst van iemand. Flatlands Collective heeft, buiten Jorrit Dijkstra zelf, vijf leden die zich in Chicago hebben ontplooid. Het gemeenschappelijke tussen Chicago en Nederland is dat beide geen noemenswaardig gebergte bevatten; zie hier de verklaring van de naam van de band.

Het optreden stond bol van spanning. Stukken zaten weliswaar logisch en gebalanceerd in elkaar, elk nummer had iets geheimzinnigs. Tonen en melodieën werden lang uitgerekt en het collectief wankelde op de scheidingslijn tussen spannend en saai. Het is goed te begrijpen dat sommige luisteraars het niet trokken en de zaal verlieten of in lachen uitbarsten.

Meegezogen werd je niet zomaar; hiervoor moest het publiek zich overgeven aan de optiek van het collectief. Het meest opvallende nummer was geïnspireerd op het geluid van waarschuwende misthoorns. Hierin zocht de groep naar geluiden die naar hun gevoelens het best konden verwoorden. Het resulteerde in een absurdistische en minimalistische soundscape. Chaotisch zou je denken. Het nummer straalde echter eenheid en harmonie uit: alle musici uitten zich weliswaar op verschillende wijzen, ze deelden één gemeenschappelijke visie en voelden elkaar bovendien perfect aan.

Extra dimensie aan het optreden gaf Dijkstra met zijn lyricon. Met deze elektronische klarinet uit de jaren zeventig produceerde de Amerikaanse Hollander soms verontrustende en dan weer lieve, sciencefictionachtige tonen. Het analoge instrument is in de vergetelheid geraakt. In het interview met Vera Vingerhoeds bij aanvang van de tweede set zei Dijkstra dit te betreuren. Hij roemde de voordelen van analoog ten opzichte van digitaal. Het geluid van de lyricon is het best te vergelijken met een synthesizer. Het doel van Dijkstra om met zijn lyricon het groepsgeluid meerdere lagen te geven, verwezenlijkte hij zonder twijfel: het is altijd opwindend om nieuwe geluiden bij een toch al onconventionele samenstelling van instrumenten toe te voegen.

Flatlands Collective bestaat namelijk uit drie blazers, een contrabassist, cellist (met effecten) en een drummer. James Falzone (klarinet) en Jeb Bishop (trombone) hadden leuke conversaties. De intens zware tonen van Bishop contrasteerde heerlijk met de vrolijkheid die geregeld klonk uit de klarinet van Falzone. Een contrabassist en een cellist kunnen elkaar ongewild onderdrukken maar dit deden Jason Roebke (cb) en Fred Lonberg (c) totaal niet.

Roebke onderscheidde zich door zijn degelijkheid en Lonberg door zijn creatieve omgang met zijn instrument. Hij loopte zichzelf geregeld en vervormde zijn producties met onrustige effecten. Drummer Frank Rosaly had een lekkere sound. Hij was fel en bijzonder oplettend. Hoewel een drummer vaak de maat bepaalt, reageerde Rosaly nu zelf op bijvoorbeeld korte melodielijnen van Dijkstra en bouwde er een groove omheen. Lege thema’s vulde hij prettig en sferisch op.

Dijkstra heeft met zijn Flatlands Collective een bijzondere band op vele vlakken. Stukken zijn vaak lang, uitgerekt en zeer verkennend, maar het komt de spanning alleen maar ten goede. Facetten als de lyricum en de effecten van de cellist maken het collectief interessant. Vlak is Flatlands Collective totaal niet.

Recensie in Eindhovens Dagblad 16-1-08 Door René van Peer

MUZIEK Dijkstra feestelijk onvoorspelbaar.
Voormalig Eindhovenaar Jorrit Dijkstra heeft in The Flatlands Collective musici om zich heen verzameld die hechtheid en solistische eigenzinnigheid in zich verenigen.

Afgelopen maandag speelde het sextet rond deze altsaxofonist bij Jazzpower een concert vol feestelijke onvoorspelbaarheid. Uiterst trage meerstemmige melodieën konden in een oogwenk omslaan in volkomen vrije improvisaties waarin ieder een eigen weg insloeg en in een handomdraai weer de gelederen sloot.

Door de bezetting van klarinet, trombone, saxofoon en een ritmesectie van drums en bas (en een cello als vreemde eend in de bijt) kon je nog denken dat je van doen had met een eigentijdse draai aan het Dixieland-orkest. Maar vanaf de eerste toon hoorde je hoe ze een volstrekt eigen terrein verkenden en vorm gaven. Vanuit collectief samenspel stoven ze uiteen, gaven ze hun fantasie alle ruimte in solo's die zowel lyrisch als bizar konden zijn. Een knip met de vinger liet de samenhang compleet verdampen; een knik van Dijkstra's hoofd bracht iedereen bliksemsnel weer bij elkaar.

Ook sfeervolle stukken stonden op het menu, zoals een compositie gebaseerd op misthoorns voor de kust van San Francisco. Lange tonen van de verschillende instrumenten wisselden elkaar af, met de klanken van een steeds verder gedemonteerde klarinet zonder mondstuk als verbazingwekkend middelpunt. Bijna ongemerkt vormden ze zachte, warme akkoorden, waar de klarinet doorheen golfde.

Tegen het eind lieten ze horen dat ze ook zonder voorbehoud konden swingen. In halsbrekende melodieën leken ze een steile muzikale helling af te rollen, onstuitbaar hotsend en botsend als flinke keien. Het speelplezier straalde van het zestal af, en het publiek liet zich daarin van harte meeslepen.

Concert The Flatlands Collective rond Jorrit Dijkstra. Gezien op maandag 14 januari bij Jazzpower in Café Wilhelmina, Eindhoven.

Review in Jazz Thing,  September 2007, by  Wolf Kampmann

Der Name des holländischen Saxofonisten Jorrit Dijkstra ist relativ neu auf dem Improv-Parkett. Doch gerade er hat die Zeichen erkannt und mit Flatlands Collective eine Band aufgestellt, die von mehreren Ebenen aus agiert – vor allem Holland und Chicago. Zu den bekannteren Musikern des Projekts gehören Cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm und die Vandermark-Mitstreiter Jeb Bishop und Tim Mulvenna an Posaune und Drums. Beim ersten Kontakt mag die CD “Gnomade” (Skycap/Rough Trade) ein wenig spröde klingen, doch man hört sich schnell in die eklektisch verbindlichen Klangtrips ein. Vor allem, wenn Dijkstra ein analoges Lyricon (Wind Synthesizer) auspackt, wird es exotisch. Das Flatlands Collective erfindet den Free Jazz nicht neu, fügt ihm aber mit bewährten Mitteln eine unverkrampfte Haltung hinzu.

Review in www.allaboutjazz.com, June 2, 2007, by Andrey Henkin

[...] Lonberg-Holm and Roebke go from this peaceful scene to Gnomade, the inaugural album of Dutch saxophonist Jorrit Dijkstra’s The Flatlands Collective. The group brings Dijkstra together with several of Chicago’s accomplished modern improvisers. In addition to Lonberg-Holm and Roebke (who replaced original member Kent Kessler), also on hand are Tim Mulvenna (drums), James Falzone (clarinet) and trombonist Jeb Bishop (the man Lonberg-Holm replaced in the Vandermark 5, though their relationship goes back much further. In addition to alto sax, Dijkstra also plays lyricon and analog synthesizer.

Gnomade can be ascribed all the usual adjectives: angular, abstract, quirky. Like Terminal Valentine, the most compelling feature are the melodies, jaunty little things (by everyone but Mulvenna) that allow for delicious textures that sound at once modern and very nostalgic. Though there are several authors, there is an aesthetic unity, an appealing feel across all the tracks, especially in some of the punch rhythms. This is the music of the country fair, the slightly off-kilter roller coaster, the barker asking passers-by to test their strength. It is like cotton candy: big, colorful and sticks to your face.

Review in Cadence Magazine, June 2007, by David Kane

[...] I also recommend the Flatlands Collective offering that constitutes [Gnomade]. Refreshingly, although the music here frequently skirts the frayed edge of the irrational, there is a pervasive sense of joy throughout much of Gnomade and the performers are clearly enjoying themselves. I enjoyed it too—the music is infectious—and, despite the humor, I recognized and appreciated the serious creativity and the exploratory, progressive stance the group has staked out. In this, they are aided in no small part by the compositions that are contributed by the group members in true collective fashion. As with the writing, the performers are first rate with nary a weak link in the bunch though I was particularly impressed with Bishop’s trombone and also the tune he co-wrote with Dijkstra, “Mute” whose oddly percolating texture made my ears stand up and take notice. This is not music you’re likely to ever encounter on a supermarket speaker and perhaps that’s a good thing for your average shopper, but it was the best “new” music CD I reviewed this month and if my local Safeway were a bit hipper I’d find more excuses to hang out there. This CD will be a worthwhile listen for those of you among us who have the appropriate constitution for this particular brand of quirky improvised music.

Review in Jazzword.com, October 5, 2007, by Ken Waxman

Clarinetist James Falzone and percussionist Tim Mulvenna plus a cellist and a double bassist are the connective strands of these two sessions recorded four month apart in Chicago, although each is unique in many ways. The Sign and the Thing Signified is most notable for exposing the compositional and playing talents of Falzone. However, appreciation for the 13 tracks delineated in barely 41 minutes, depends on the listener’s tolerance for chamber-improv assayed by bassoon, viola, cello and bassist Brian Dibble as well as Falzone and Mulvenna.
Gnomade’s compositions are suppler and offer more surprises than those on the other CD. One reason may be that seven of the 11 tunes are by Jorrit Dijkstra, a talented composer and player who divides his time between the U.S. and his home country of the Netherlands. Playing alto saxophone, lyricon and analog synthesizer here, Dijkstra is joined by Falzone and Mulvenna plus modern gutbucket specialist trombonist Jeb Bishop, solid bassist Jason Roebke and versatile cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm – all of whom are among the Windy City’s first-call improvisers.
Perhaps the legit background of Falzone, who teaches courses in music theory, composition, and world music and is music director of Grace Chicago Church also contributes to his solo CD’s solemnity – at least compare to the Flatlands’ disc. Similarly one of the disc’s most arresting performances is a motet-like recasting of a line from an opera by 17th Century British composer Henry Purcell.
Whether it adds more or less fuel to that legit/improv equation, “The 4:08”, Flazone’s composition on Gnomade, is, in contrast, a stop-time outing that moves from allegro to staccatissimo and back again. Replete with false climaxes and head recaps, the tune features near-Dixieland clarinet riffs and punk-rock-like slashing cello screeds in the centre of contrapuntal call-and-response vamps.
Throughout, Falzone’s legato inflections translate successfully into fluid lines which add to the overall gestalt by unambiguously contrasting with Bishop’s gritty slide expansions and guttural snorts, as well as Dijkstra’s sharp split tones and intense, jagged lines.
Instrumental placement and arrangement also gives the tracks three-dimensional timbral protuberances, that vary according to the musical make up. For instance, “Rabbits” is a simple Freebop swinger. Composed by Bishop, it starts off with the clarinetist’s flutter tonguing on top of rhythmically airy bass and drums as contrapuntal trombone and alto lines move around him. After a thematic shift to the alto saxophone and before the head is recapped by plunger trombone and clarinet glissandi, Roebke explores cross plucking and resonating strokes in his solo, while the cellist splatters tones as if he’s playing rock-guitar.
Dijkstra’s “Dipje” unfolds with a vaudeville-like rhythmic tap dance created by Mulvenna’s rim shot and wooden stick nerve beats. Harmonized horns plus occasional vibrating pulsation from the reedist’s synthesizer find the backing varying from outer-space splashes to mellow harmonics, as the alto’s lyrical cadences carry the tune.
More dissonant, “Flank” varies its tonal centre as grace notes from the trombone create slurry pitches on which sharp saxophone obbligatos are displayed. Rappelling down the scale with repeated aviary split tones, Dijkstra’s gritty vibrations dissolve into nearly inaudible percussion squeaks and rubs plus slinky, squeaky trills. Concluding with a thick carpet of echoing and descending tones, drum rumbles and pops guide the theme to a finale.
Freed from obvious swinging and time-keeping, percussionist Mulvenna performs a different role on The Sign and the Thing Signified. He supplies the rhythmic impetus, potentially compromised by Katherine Young’s bassoon, Amy Cimini’s viola and Kevin Davis’ cello. With the three more colorists than soloists, the most memorable use of the bassoon’s distinctive textures occur on “A Cord of Thee Strands … broken”. Here the serpentine double-reed tone introduces a composition whose inflections also encompass Arabic-styled percussion ruffs, rhythmic ground bass pattering and rococo echoes from the other strings. A half-march beat and the reintroduced theme played by bassoon and clarinet in counterpoint complete the references.
More multi-faceted – and decidedly more satisfying than the seven two-minutes-or-less scene setters – is the more-than-nine-minute “Akrasia”. A challenging exposition which provides the date’s most winning use of varied musical motifs, it also reveals as many musical references as a database. Episodic, it unfolds gradually, as gamelan-like temple-bell resonation shatters the introductory silence. Soon, Falzone’s clarinet explodes into a paroxysm of stylized runs, arching over the strings that are playing in triple counterpoint with one another. Young carries the melody again, but her horizontal reading is continuously interrupted by sweeping clarinet trills and vibrated cymbals. Sul ponticello viola and cello scrapes, rhythmic arco bass lines and percussion ruffs and rattles lead first to clarinet overblowing with extended pauses, then to a bassoon-led episode resembling an ecclesiastical procession. Having touched on a multitude of classical music eras, the tune wraps up with a combination Spanish motif and Klezmer line outlined with rattling cymbals.
It’s a credit to the clarinetist’s arranging skill that “Dido’s Lament,” adapted by the clarinetist from Purcell’s opera, sounds no less modern than the other compositions. An adagio nocturne expressed portamento by the strings, it continues in march time once zart drumming and the clarinetist’s cawing split tones enter the mix. Summation is a beautifully harmonized coda.
Proving elsewhere that his solo clarinet voicing also encompasses Jimmy Giuffre-like intervallic leaps, the CD serves as an exceptional showcase for Falzone’s. As a first effort it’s commendable, but fewer longer tracks would have served him better. Overall though, Falzone’s contributions to Gnomade make that CD a memorable outing, and suggest further framing and organizing of his own work may allow him to create a date similar to the other CD in the future.

Review in Signal to Noise #46: Summer 2007, by Andrew Choate

The Flatlands Collective is a sextet of mostly Chicago jazz musicians assembled by Dutch alto saxophonist Jorrit Dijkstra. His explicit interest in incorporating “free jazz, game pieces, graphic score readings, texture-based minimalism and melodic layerings” into compositions is evidenced more often than not by patching different kinds of music side by side one another, rather than integrating the different approaches into full, fluid compositions. That said, the stiffness of this patching isn’t necessarily the fault of the players or the composers (Dijkstra wrote 6 tunes, the other 5 are by the other members) – it’s somewhere in the middle, and there’s still some excellent stuff on this disc. “Dipje”, the last track, is a crushingly great groove – so mellow and so rich. Dijkstra plays the Lyricon analog wind synthesizer on this cut, shooting little darts right into the heart of the groove’s open ends and downbeats. A little development of the groove would have been nice – the track is almost six minutes long – but it’s a cool piece. Clarinettist James Falzone’s composition “The 4:08” explores Carl Stalling-like buoyance and feet footed fun. The rhythm section of Jason Roebke on bass and Tim Mulvenna on drums usually take a backseat to the carefully considered wind instrument lines of Dijkstra, Falzone and trombonist Jeb Bishop, occasionally to opportune ends, like their bolstering of hugeness of the three separate wind lines on “Rabbits.” Fred Lonberg-Holm’s cello is regrettably, underutilized (and undermixed) throughout.

Review in Dusted Magazine, April 23, 2007, by Bill Meyer

Jorrit Dijkstra is Dutch, but if you listen to about three seconds of the first track you’ll peg Gnomade as a Chicago record. The opening track “Wire Tap’s” snappy elastic pulse, colorful harmonies, and bubbling brass commentary all sound like something out of the Vandermark 5’s songbook circa Simpatico, and that’s not just because two men (trombonist Jeb Bishop and drummer Tim Mulvenna) who played on that record are present here. In fact, every musician besides the leader is a member of the city’s post-AACM, non-mainstream, jazz and improv scene (stick that on a bumper sticker, kids).

But more importantly, Dijkstra seems to have come prepared to engage with the locale’s musical identify; his own compositions give the players plenty of chances to do what they’ve done before in the 5, the Valentine Trio, the Lucky 7s, and various other ensembles. The other writers in the band also contribute pieces that lay out significant facets of the Chicago sound. The way the astringent string and reed voicings in cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm’s “Alp Doodler” alternately melt and harden show how people around here aren’t afraid to drink from the late classical well, while bassist Jason Roebke’s “Longtones” shows how well those same elements mix with a melancholy, noir-jazz vibe. Bishop’s “Rabbits,” more bouncy than horny, represents the strongly tuneful yet historically attuned side that has led old Ellington lovers and indie-rock fans to compete for folding chairs in the same smoke-begrimed (but not for much longer) bars. Clarinetist James Falzone’s “The 4:08” is a highlight; it actually has more vigor and fire than anything else I’ve heard the guy do.

So where is Dijkstra in all this? On alto saxophone, he’s not an especially distinctive soloist; his most personal touches come in the electronic tones that subtly intensify the colors of the orchestrated passages and enliven the free-fall exchanges. That he accomplishes this with a lyricon, a wind-triggered synth I associated with Tom Scott and odious ’70s fusion, is especially impressive. 


Concert Review in the Chicago Tribune December 9, 2005. By Howard Reich, Tribune arts critic.

Breaking the mold
Flatlands Collective, Kneebody spin jazz in opposite directions

Like fire and ice, the two emerging bands that played Wednesday night at HotHouse hardly could have been more diametrically opposed.
Yet despite stylistic differences, they shared at least one critical trait: Each was determined to toss jazz convention to the winds and did so with unmistakable eloquence.
Dutch saxophonist Jorrit Dijkstra created the Flatlands Collective not long after he moved to to the U.S. in 2002 and began collaborating with Chicago musicians. But if the Midwest's topography inspired the name of the band, it had scant effect on the nature of Dijkstra's music, which was anything but flat.
Richly textured, subtly nuanced and built on multiple layers of melody, the music of the Collective merged the free-thinking nature of the Chicago avant-garde with elements of contemporary European classical composition. Much of this music suggested an intensely cerebral exercise, with carefully engineered stop-start rhythms, delicate dabs of electronically produced sound and a nearly complete avoidance of a straightforward beat.
When the band ventured into the occasional swing passage, one was startled to hear it, since practically everything else about this ensemble steered clear of the jazz mainstream.
If at first the music sounded so diffuse and muted as to lack coherence, before long the repertoire became more lucid and structured (or did our ears simply become adjusted to its aesthetic?). The other-worldly hums and drones that Dijkstra produced on lyricon, which might be described as a kind of digital clarinet wired to a computer, were answered by pungent bursts of dissonance from the rest of the band in a piece titled "Slitch."
And in the last work of the set, "Dipje," the band produced the exquisite blends of instrumental color one might sooner expect from a classical chamber ensemble.
In the end, the Flatlands Collective linked the intellectual firepower of the Dutch free-jazz scene with the instrumental virtuosity of some of Chicago's most accomplished creative improvisers, including trombonist Jeb Bishop and cellist Fred Lonberg-Holm.
Though the band still must be considered a work-in-progress, it deserves respect for the unorthodox musical direction it's pursuing.
If the Flatlands Collective aimed for a studious brand of jazz, the comparably adventurous Kneebody--making its Chicago debut--strove for a much more visceral, accessible, beat-driven sound. Though not exactly dance music, the band's rock-tinged backbeats, back-to-basics riffs and motor-rhythm passages suggested it was playing for an audience that approaches jazz from a pop perspective.
Even so, there was much more here than a casual listening might suggest. Just when the band seemed to be sinking into a rhythmic groove, it sabotaged expectations by changing or suspending its tempo or meter. And by juicing up its acoustic work with keyboard electronics and other computer-processed sound, Kneebody italicized its every gesture.
Some of the most impressive work came from keyboardist Adam Benjamin, who produced a galaxy of space-age sound, while trumpeter Shane Endsley and tenor saxophonist Ben Wendel formed a taut and muscular front line.

Reviews on Jorrit Dijkstra + John Hollenbeck

Review on www.allaboutjazz.com July 2006, By Glenn Astarita

These two noted improvisers/composers generate a dynamic and inventive series of tone poems by combining disparate rhythmic angles with contrasting electronics and gruff dialogues. Dijkstra and Hollenbeck keep matters on the up and up by multitasking with divergent instrumentation, including tin whistles, lyricon, autoharp, and more conventional tools of the trade. At times they execute fractured stop/start movements with antique-sounding electronics and creaky explorations. They cross borders throughout this rather playful session, where surrealism attains a judicious mix with modern jazz improvisation. Dijkstra and Hollenbeck convey a hodgepodge of musical notions, and their abstract musings reap substantial dividends.

Review on http://www.paristransatlantic.com, September 2006, By Nate Dorward

A leftfield disc for Dijkstra, a saxophonist from the fertile Dutch jazz scene now based in Boston: Sequence is about as far as you can go from his screwy cool-school alto sax work with Sound-Lee!, and in fact there’s barely a recognizable sax sound on the album. He's been working with polymath drummer John Hollenbeck since the late 1990s, and they have developed a cut-and-paste aesthetic that mimics the sound of overdubs, edits and studio trickery even though the music is created in real-time. Who knows what to call it – improv electronica? grotesque minimalism? cyborg jazz? soundscapes for human drum machine and autoharp? – but what’s most striking is how Dijkstra and Hollenbeck’s rhythmic layerings find common ground between postmodern glitch-and-loop and the polyrhythms of African musics. The extraordinary 11-minute "Rubber Mitten", for instance, comes off like a post-colonial ritual dance collaged out of whatever sonic detritus is to hand: thumb piano rubs up against clunking robot beats, ticking-clock percussion against cartoon fwips and off-key melodies that sound like a computer's idea of a lullaby. The general principle here seems to be to create textures that never existed before and will never be heard again: "Bubble Wig" sounds like the work of a creature half-animal, half-typewriter, being gradually drowned out by mournful koto thrums and twinkling-star electronics; "Neuron Ringer" is a duet for droning ambient electronics and hyperactive drumset clatter, spiced with computer burps; "Whistle Baby" is an electronica nursery rhyme, complete with wind-up music-box. Weird and wonderful stuff: Sequence suggests that the distance from "Subconscious-Lee" to musical rummaging-around in the subconscious is not as far as you’d think.–ND

Review by Ty Cumbie, www.allaboutjazz.com, January 2007

No reasonable person would call Sequence, Hollenbeck’s new CD with Boston’s brilliant Jorrit Dijkstra, jazz, but a minute into it and the fearless sound explorer will surely cease to care. For years Dijkstra has been quietly creating some of the most listenably adventurous experimental music using alto sax wired up to a raft of analog gadgets. He’s yet to receive the recognition he deserves, but that may change soon. Solo, Dijkstra’s work is plenty engaging. Add Hollenbeck, unleashed from any score and in full creative mode and you’ve got odd, oddly compelling music. Emphasis on the word ‘music’, as these artists miraculously avoid mere inspired noisemaking. All the tracks on Sequence are titled in two punchy words, juxtaposed with ironic poise, a reflection of the music. It would make perfect sense if the duo chose one word each, randomly.

Recensie in Jazzism, herfst 2006, door Ken Vos  ***** (5 star)

Als het eerste stuk wordt opgezet, denk je met een beter dan gemiddeld impro album te maken te hebben: een spannende, langzaam van staccatoklanken naar een in dichtheid steeds toenemende, maar ook steeds fluïdere uitwisseling. Maar er blijkt toch meer aan de hand. Kennelijk zijn er tussen de Nederlandse rietblazer en elektronicaman Dijkstra en de Amerikaanse percussionist Hollenbeck vrij strakke afspraken gemaakt over het klankspectrum van de stukken, waarna het gevoel voor contrapunt en de intuïtie de rest doet. Het leuke van Sequence is dat het hele spectrum van puur akoestische klanken tot uitgedund elektronisch geluid verkend wordt, zonder dat het collageachtig klinkt. Een mooi voorbeeld is het stuk Dub Machine waarin de klanken van een volle akoestische drumset tegenover kale saxofoonsalvo’s overgaan in primitief aandoende elektronische bewerkingen. Op andere momenten zijn de contrasten juist weer minimal en ontwikkelt zich het klankbeeld zeer langzaam. Dijkstra en Hollenbeck weten met abstract basismateriaal met gemak de aandacht vast te houden omdat ze clichés vermijden en qua dynamiek zoveel weten te suggereren. Voor liefhebbers van avontuurlijke klankinteracties pur sang is het album een absolute aanrader.

Review by Bruce Gallanter, Downtown Music Gallery, April 2006

Dutch saxist, Jorrit Dijkstra, has played here at DMG in the past and has some half dozen discs out on Bvhaast, Geestgronden and his own Trytone label, from solo to groups with Guus Janssen & Steve Arguelles. Here he collaborates with the ubiquitous master percussionist, composer and multi-bandleader, John Hollenbeck. This most impressive duo perform an all-improvised, live in the studio date, recorded by Jamie Saft. I recall that Jorrit played some strange, electronically manipulated sax on his solo disc that I reviewed a few years back. So too on this dynamic duo disc, he plays a lyricon (an electronic wind instrument, invented and utilized by adventurous saxists in the seventies), as well as his own analogue electronics. Both musicians play a variety of strange sounds that are not so easy to identify. They take their time to focus on a certain sonic textures or areas, just a few at a time, slowly and organically evolving from section to section. Tapping on those sax pads, subtle scrapes of autoharp fragments, child-like music box excursions and sublime percussive spice, all float together in a quietly fascinating way. Each piece features a different combination of sounds or instruments, so that each combination is fresh and unique in sound. No matter how far out or strange that Jorrit goes with his lyricon or electronics, Hollenbeck does a fine job of matching wits with a wide variety of odd percussion sounds. This is an extraordinary crafty duo that seem to tell a story or take us on a journey on each track of this dynamic disc." – BLG

General Articles on Jorrit Dijkstra

Feature Article in the Boston Globe November 12, 2004. By Kevin Lowenthal, Globe Correspondent

On the edge of the fly
From composition to improvisation, Jorrit Dijkstra is putting a bold stamp on the jazz scene

Jorrit Dijkstra, the Dutch alto saxophonist and composer, is deceptively mild-mannered onstage and off. Neither a flashy dresser nor a fast-talking hipster, he plays his horn without contortions or histrionics.
Yet what emerges from his instrument tells a different story. He takes his audiences on a quirky, energetic, captivating journey through a world of sound and emotion. His lines follow a logic of their own. And his ductile tone is varied with touches of grit, slurred passages, overblown outbursts, and the occasional duck quack.
Though he has resided in the Boston area for only a few years, Jorrit Dijkstra (pronounced YORR-it DYKE-stra) has already distinguished himself as a man to watch. A highly accomplished musician, he is a cerebral improviser who nevertheless plays with warmth and rhythmic excitement. And whether he is performing in one of his many ensembles or as a soloist, his music, while far from easy listening, is lucid and accessible.
Since his arrival, the 38-year-old Dijkstra has become an integral part of the area's jazz scene, working with local musicians from free-bop baritone saxophonist Charlie Kohlhase to Stephen Drury's kaleidoscopic new music ensemble Callithumpian Consort.
Dijkstra also helms concerts featuring Dutch compatriots at Cambridge's Zeitgeist Gallery, including a duo performance Monday night with provocative Dada-influenced vocalist and sound-poet Jaap Blonk. "He's helping the Boston scene open its eyes and ears," says collaborator Curt Newton, perhaps best known as the drummer of Triple Play.
Newton values Dijkstra as a catalyst who straddles several divides: composition and improvisation; acoustic and electronic; Europe and America. "He's important for his direct connection to the Dutch scene," says Newton, "which doesn't get the recognition it should."
In conversation, Dijkstra is as intelligent and alert as he is when improvising. His open gaze and large ears are almost emblematic of his focused approach to music. "I like mixing things, playing with different people," he says. "It's more their personalities and approach that I find inspiring rather than the particular style they play. I really like to improvise with people who take it places that you wouldn't expect, who don't play 'the right thing.' " Not playing ''the right thing" is a key philosophy for the Dutch improvisational scene that Dijkstra comes from, a scene known for wit, playfulness, and absurdity rather than the solemnity or cathartic frenzy of much avant-garde improvisational music.
Dutch scene patriarchs include Misha Mengelberg, the eccentric Thelonious Monk-influenced pianist and composer; Willem Breuker, known for his strident saxophone and marching band theatrics; and master percussionist Han Bennink, a cross between wacky anarchist Harpo Marx and bebop drum architect Max Roach.
Two recent Dijkstra recordings demonstrate his range. The Amsterdam-based acoustic quartet Sound-Lee!, with pianist Guus Janssen, is dedicated to performing the music of altoist and cool jazz pioneer Lee Konitz. On its self-titled CD, Sound-Lee! plays six elaborately serpentine Konitz tunes and a Dijkstra original.
Dijkstra and Janssen honor Konitz and his mentor, pianist Lennie Tristano, by capturing their music's spirit without overtly aping its manner. Dijkstra's improvising is completely convincing in this context. Like Konitz himself or Steve Lacy, he eschews signature licks and patterns, lending his solos a refreshing quality of thinking out loud.
In contrast, his solo saxophone recording, "30 micro-stems," shows his more experimental side, employing live electronic manipulation -- no overdubs here -- to build up layers of sound. Each piece creates its own atmosphere, from the densely rhythmic stacks of simple cycled phrases on "koot," to the Brian Eno-like ambient soundscape of "linea recta." On this recording, Dijkstra also plays the Lyricon, an electronic analog wind synthesizer, a relic of the 1970s that can produce sounds from the earthy to the ethereal. Dijkstra's attachment to the Lyricon may be one of his few concessions to the overt wackiness of the Dutch scene, but those craving a dose of Amsterdam anarchy can attend Monday night's Zeitgeist performance with the hyperkinetic Blonk, which will incorporate both the Lyricon and electronics.
Born into a musical family in the south of Holland, Dijkstra began playing flute at the age of 8 and switched to alto saxophone in his early teens. "It was just more fun, much bigger, with more sound," he says. "And flute is not the thing when you're 13 years old." He has stuck with the alto ever since.
In 1983, Dijkstra attended his first jazz concert, featuring American expatriate soprano saxophonist Lacy with Mengelberg's Instant Composer's Pool Orchestra. Dijkstra was blown away by the combination of Mengelberg's swinging but free orchestrations and Lacy's crystalline tone, incisive phrasing, and introverted yet emotional approach to melody. He decided that someday, somehow, he would study with Lacy.
At 18, Dijkstra enrolled at the Amsterdam Conservatory, where Mengelberg taught counterpoint and arranging. "At that time," says Dijkstra, "the Conservatory's jazz department didn't even call it jazz, they called it improvised music, because they wanted to distinguish themselves from the other schools' bebop-oriented departments."
It was in Amsterdam that Dijkstra's musical life really began. But he quickly recognized the quasi-incestuous nature of the scene, with everybody playing in one another's bands. Wary of being typecast, he broadened his contacts throughout Europe and played with jazz, classical, and folk musicians ranging from French pianist Benot Delbecq to Scotland's Bancroft brothers, who were known to play jazz with bagpipers.
In 1995, Dijkstra met his wife-to-be, Julie Malozzi, a Cambridge-based documentary filmmaker. In 1998, he taught and studied for a year at the New England Conservatory. After settling in Cambridge in 2002, he finally got his chance to take lessons from Lacy, who taught at NEC during the two years before his death.
Last Friday, Dijkstra performed at the Zeitgeist Gallery as part of a Callithumpian Consort evening of John Zorn's music. Dijkstra, on alto, along with guitarist Eric Hofbauer and drummer Newton, explored tunes from Masada, Zorn's band that combined traditional Jewish scales with Ornette Coleman's free jazz. Dijkstra's trio played six Masada numbers, ranging from the Middle-Eastern mysterioso of "Abidan" to the funky-bottomed "Lilin." Along the way, he demonstrated his mastery of the alto, playing with wit, nuance, and fire. Though it took a few numbers for the wiry, stripped-down trio to jell, Hofbauer and Newton contributed admirably to the tensile strength and melodic melancholy of the music.
Dijkstra feels he has a particular chemistry with this trio. But he also enjoys playing with other area musicians, such as trombonist Chris Allen and theremin player James Coleman, and feels that Boston gives him plenty of personalities and styles to explore. "There's a bunch of really interesting musicians here," he says. © Copyright 2004 Globe Newspaper Company.

Article in De Volkskrant, 8 maart 2007 Door Frank van Herk

Veel spontaner en sneller

Componist en saxofonist Jorrit Dijkstra is een van de weinige Nederlandse jazzmuzikanten die in Amerika is gevestigd. Het land sluit aan bij zijn vrije manier van spelen, vindt hij. ‘Je hoeft het niet over geld te hebben, want dat is er toch niet.’

Er zijn aardig wat Amerikaanse jazzmuzikanten die in Nederland wonen en werken, maar de omgekeerde situatie komt niet veel voor. Rietblazer en componist Jorrit Dijkstra is een uitzondering: sinds 2002 is hij gevestigd in Boston. Binnenkort is de musicus, die improviseert, eigentijdse compositietechnieken toepast en experimenteert met elektronica, voor een korte tournee met drummer John Hollenbeck terug in Nederland.

Het verschil tussen de Verenigde Staten en zijn moederland is duidelijk. ‘Kijk, we zitten hier in het Muziekgebouw aan ’t IJ. Zoiets heb je nergens ter wereld, zo’n mooi podium alleen voor modern klassiek en jazz. Subsidies zoals hier heb je in Amerika gewoon niet, de gemeenschap vindt niet dat cultuur gesteund moet worden door de overheid. Ik speel in alternatieve zalen en barretjes, ‘voor de deur’. Dat is geen vetpot, en je reiskosten gaan er nog af, dus je mag blij zijn als je quitte speelt.’

Dijkstra (1966) trok in eerste instantie de oceaan over omdat zijn vrouw, een Amerikaanse documentairemaakster, in Nederland niet kon aarden en werken. Maar hij was ook toe aan verandering, en wilde verder studeren; aan het New England Conservatory, vanwege zijn interesse in componisten als John Cage en Earle Brown, die ruimte voor improvisatie in hun stukken toelieten. Vrij spelen, of de muziek sturen met grafische partituren of instructies, dat is ook daar een marginale scene. Toch zijn er ook voordelen. ‘Het is een ander soort energie. Je kunt direct op iemand afstappen en zeggen, ik vind het leuk wat je doet, volgende maand spelen we daar en daar. Je hoeft het niet over geld te hebben, want dat is er toch niet. Het gaat allemaal veel spontaner en sneller, echt grassroots, alles vanaf de grond zelf opbouwen. Daarbij komt dat ze deze muziek maken uit liefde en idealisme, net als ik, en maar over een beperkte hoeveelheid tijd beschikken want iedereen heeft een baan. Dus als ze kunnen spelen gaan ze er duizend procent voor. En het publiek is even toegewijd, komt echt voor jou. Dat geeft je de vrijheid te spelen wat je wilt.’

Het Nederlandse subsidiesysteem is een geweldig voorrecht, meent Dijkstra, maar het heeft als schaduwzijde dat je altijd een plan moet hebben voor ‘een projectje, een conceptje, een ideetje’. ‘En als je denkt, het zou misschien mooi zijn om met die-en-die wat te doen, moet je maanden wachten voor je aanvraag wordt toegewezen, en dan klikt het misschien helemaal niet of ben je al met andere dingen bezig.’

Met name in Chicago vond Dijkstra een aantal geestverwanten. Met hen richtte hij het Flatlands Collective op, een sextet met improvisatoren ‘die echt overal voor open staan, een enorm brede belangstelling hebben.’

Op Dijkstra’s recente cd’s, Sequence met Hollenbeck en Gnomade met het Flatlands Collective, is goed te horen hoe weinig beperkingen hij zichzelf oplegt. Er zijn grooves en melodische passages voor zijn elegante, lenige spel op de altsax, maar tevens abrupte overgangen naar abstractie; er zijn game pieces met spelregels, maar ook minimalistische en ambient-achtige verkenningen van timbre, stukjes puur geluid die worden uitvergroot of gemanipuleerd met elektronica.

Net als veel gelijkgestemde collega’s geeft Dijkstra daarbij de voorkeur aan oudere, analoge technologie. ‘Om te beginnen omdat computers voor wat ik wil erg inflexibel zijn, en vaak steriel klinken. Een loop maken en daar meteen live overheen spelen is enorm ingewikkeld met een laptop en een muis, in plaats van met een speciaal loop-apparaat.

‘En ik houd van het geluid van analoge synthesizers. Die werken met stroomspanningen, niet met digitale informatie, dus de overgangen zijn vloeiend en traploos, ze gaan niet in stapjes van nullen en enen.’

Dat geldt het sterkst voor zijn Lyricon, een inmiddels zeldzaam, uit de jaren zeventig stammend elektronisch blaasinstrument. ‘Dat is de synthesizer die het dichtst bij het menselijk lichaam staat. Hij heeft kleppen, met de vingerzetting van een saxofoon, en het mondstuk van een basklarinet, waarmee je door luchtdruk en lipspanning direct invloed hebt op de dynamiek, het vibrato, de frasering.

‘In de traditionelere jazz gaat het meer om noten, lijnen, akkoorden, en in mindere mate om de textuur van het geluid. Daarom wordt er in dat genre weinig geëxperimenteerd met elektronica. Maar ik maak er graag gebruik van, omdat ik de mogelijkheden van de saxofoon wil oprekken; het is zo’n ver ontwikkeld instrument, iedereen kent tegenwoordig de extreemste technieken, dus wat moet je dan nog?’

Meer risico’s nemen, zoals in Amerika, zegt Dijkstra. ‘Dat is het land van de subculturen, ze gaan daar overal compromisloos tegenaan. Het landschap is groter, ook letterlijk. Als je acht uur moet rijden naar je volgende schnabbel ontstaat er een andere mentaliteit, een ander groepsgevoel, dan wanneer je na een half uurtje in de trein weer thuis kunt slapen.’

Article in New Partisan Magazine May 31, 2004. www.newpartisan.com

Eric Adler on the Straight Man of New Dutch Swing

Fans of contemporary jazz may not be aware that Amsterdam is one of the liveliest centers of avant-garde music, producing some of the most distinctive and unusual sounds in the annals of so-called New Thing jazz.
The Dutch and expatriate musicians who have flocked to Amsterdam have ushered in a style of avant-garde jazz that possesses its own quirky characteristics — characteristics often equally anathema to traditionalists and adherents of free jazz. Waltzes; tangos; tongue-in-cheek soloing — these are some of the traits one associates with what critic Kevin Whitehead, in his poorly written tome on the movement, conveniently labeled “New Dutch Swing.” Although the Amsterdamians occasionally produce albums that conform to the spontaneous free-jazz sessions listeners associate with such figures as Derek Bailey and John Stevens, more often they aim to play fetching little tunes and tear them apart.  Foot-tapping melodies give way to uproarious deconstructions; straight-ahead tunes turn into Ayler-esque cacophony—and back again.
Take, for example, the music of Willem Breuker, one of the key figures in Dutch jazz, and for over two decades leader of the Willem Breuker Kollektief, a sometimes ten-, sometimes eleven-piece band that offers a unique blend of Third-Stream-esque compositions, theatrical hijinks, humorous novelty songs, and free jazz solos. At times, the Kollektief can sound much like Kurt Weill and Nino Rota; at other points, its members let loose scorching bursts of sound.
Breuker, whose work on tenor and soprano saxophones often resembles the manic rasp of a duck in heat, began his jazz career amidst such free-jazz firebrands as Peter Brötzmann and Evan Parker. Yet Breuker, a die-hard socialist, soon moved in another direction; distressed by the small audience for free jazz, he strove to present listeners with a brand of music at once more composed and more comical, while still maintaining ties to the avant-garde jazz world.
To that end he formed his Kollektief, which has a dedicated following among a certain stripe of jazz devotee while occasionally engendering the wrath of free-jazz purists. Oftentimes, the Kollektief’s sense of humor is aimed at avant-garde pretensions: Breuker and his band poke fun at the squeaking and squawking of free-jazz saxophonists. In a typical gag, for instance, Breuker plays a parody of avant-garde soprano sax while manically running his fingers all over his horn—as if the entire sax, reed and all, were responsible for its changes in pitch.
Breuker, pianist Misha Mengelberg, and drummer Han Bennink are the three heavy-hitters of the Amsterdam jazz scene. (Marten Altena, another father of “New Dutch Swing,” has largely confined himself to a compelling and brooding version of contemporary classical music, thus distancing himself from his jazz roots.) Yet there is a younger generation of Dutch players, many of whom are not as heralded by fans of European jazz, but deserve greater acclaim.
One such figure is Jorrit Dijkstra, a Dutch-born composer and musician who focuses on alto saxophone, but also plays lyricon, soprano sax, and clarinet. Although Dijkstra recently moved to Cambridge, MA, he remains linked to the Amsterdam scene through his participation in a number of Dutch jazz groups. Without much fanfare, he has sired or contributed to a few of the best records in the history of Dutch jazz.
In some ways, Dijkstra is an uncharacteristic figure in the movement: he doesn’t appear particularly interested in the vaudevillian antics of the Kollektief, or the neo-Dada tomfoolery of Mengelberg and Bennink. Rather, he comes across as an introspective, almost shy, presence on stage.
Yet this doesn’t stop Dijkstra from offering his listeners some great saxophonery. His tone on alto seems mostly indebted to the Cool School: one can hear a certain amount of Lee Konitz in his sax—even if Dijkstra does not sound as West-Coasty as Michael Moore, an American ex-patriot who is omnipresent on the Dutch jazz scene. If Dijkstra’s tone is akin to Konitz’s, his solos seem most like those of Ornette Coleman: voice-like wails and moans sometimes untethered from melodic constraints. But Dijkstra is a more subdued soloist, usually confining his screeching to the end of his solos.
Dijkstra has played well in a vast array of settings, ranging from straight-ahead sets to avant-garde blowouts. As a member of the Sound-Lee! quartet, which is dedicated to playing Konitz compositions, Dijkstra shows how much room remains for new musical ideas within straight-ahead jazz. Dijkstra and co., especially the volcanic pianist Guus Janssen, create music that is in the spirit of Konitz but never amounts to a mere re-hashing of Cool School pieties.
Dijkstra, though, is equally at home in the world of the avant-garde, as evidenced by his solo album, “30 micro-stems.” Unlike so many solo horn albums, which elevate virtuosity over musicality, “micro-stems” is a pleasure to hear. Deftly layering his pieces with bursts of alto, lyricon, and electronics, the album is a tour de force, not a mere parlor trick.  Each piece is a carefully crafted composition deftly exploring new aural landscapes. The cleverly overlaid track “koot,” which begins with a melodic fragment, over which Dijkstra weaves further melodies, eventually building to a busy and dizzying climax, is itself worth the price of admission.
Dijkstra’s piano-less trio (bass and drums) has also produced a couple of great records, but none greater than “Whistle,” on which the group is joined by guitarist, violinist, and banjo-player Stuart Hall. “Whistle” is a farrago of infectious melodies and quirky swing, propelled by the spunky drummer Steve Argüelles, whose masterful thumping deserves a far larger audience. The quartet’s pleasantly stilted version of Thelonius Monk’s “Eronel,” featuring Hall on banjo, seems about as close as Dijkstra comes to the hijinks one usually associates with the “New Dutch Swing” scene. And Dijkstra’s tune “Rachabane” has one of the catchiest melodies in Dutch jazz — no easy feat, given the supreme melodic gifts of Willem Breuker and Misha Mengelberg.
Dijkstra has also taken part in a few bands that should be of great import to those interested in the development of contemporary jazz. Chief among them is Bite the Gnatze, a Celtic-jazz unit headed by guitarist and banjo-player Paul Pallesen, whose music far surpasses the bluegrass noodling of Bela Fleck and his ilk. The band’s latest release, “Wilde dans in een afgelegen Berghut,” is one of the best jazz albums of 2003. Jazz devotees should check out the infectious song “Horm wil geen vis,” which mixes avant-garde playing and trad-jazz sounds, and glory in “Voor het Mannetje,” which should become a jazz standard.
A constant presence on these albums, needless to say, is Jorrit Dijkstra. Hopefully, his name will become more familiar to music fans in the years to come.

Listed, Dusted Magazine feature July 25, 2003

Jorrit Dijkstra’s 10 favourite recordings (not in any particular order) for Dusted Magazine

1. Aphex Twin - Drukqs (Warp) – Great sonic experiments, and amazing ideas with the (prepared) midi grand piano, and with the recording and post-production. What Aphex Twin does with just reverb is a whole topic of analysis already. Still it’s groovy and organic.

2. Arditti String Quartet - John Cage’s String Quartet in Four Parts (1949-50) (Mode) – Beautiful piece, very well played (including the slight out of tune harmonics!). Cage uses a composition technique in which every time a note from his scale occurs, he uses the same orchestration. This gives the piece a static, medieval serenity, which I really like. But why is the recording so noisy (in this period Cage wasn’t quite into indeterminacy yet)?

3. Yannis Kyriakides - a conSPIracy cantata (Unsounds) –This up and coming Greek/British composer lives in Amsterdam and writes music that beautifully integrates acoustic new music with minimalist techno and noise elements. We know Alvin Lucier’s experiments with acoustic instruments and a slow sweeping sine wave creating interferences with harmonics, but Yanni takes this idea to another, more organic level in his piece Hydatorizon. The conSPIracy cantata is a longer, creepy work, with amazing soundscapes based around Cold War shortwave radio codes and the oracle of Delphi.

4. Benoît Delbecq - Nu-Turn (Songlines) – This new Hybrid, Super Audio CD from one of my favourite improvisor friends from Paris was just released. I don’t have the special CD player and surround speakers to play this format, but I can very well imagine the bonus. It’s like putting your ears to meditate inside the piano. Benoît takes György Ligeti’s multi tempo layerings and combines it with Ornette Coleman’s floating melodies and complex Pygmy rhythms into a very organic and original way of improvising on the (prepared) piano. Benoît’s musical world has been a great inspiration to me.

5. Helmut Lachenmann - Schwankungen am Rand (ECM New Series) – Sliding and gliding on the edge, he gets amazing sounds out of a chamber orchestra that you never thought were possible. It almost sounds like electronic music, and I see why he is popular these days in the electronic and noise scene. Minimalism but not, and all but a traditional conception about drama.

6. Coleman Hawkins - ...encounters Ben Webster (Verve) –I wish I could have been present at this recording session. Sad, melancholic music from two absolute masters. "Rosita" is my favourite track, and almost makes me cry everytime. Both make the saxophone sound the way it was intended: huge, sweet, subtle and raw on the edge.

7. Gil Evans and Steve Lacy - Paris Blues (Owl) – Two of my favourite jazzmusicians. The Mingus pieces are always interesting to listen to, especially when played in an introvert way, opposite to Mingus’ approach. Lacy (I studied with him for a semester) gave me this CD after I gave him a computer lesson, and my interaction with Gil Evans was that he played on the pedal of my Fender Rhodes (the rental piano was missing this part) at a jazz festival in Amsterdam late 80’s.

8. Thomas Brinkmann - Klick (max.E.) – Beautiful music made with electronic error sounds. Minimalism optima forma from this German techno musician. This music appeals to me because of the incredible clarity, subtlety, angular groovyness, the super basic daily digital life sounds and slow development of textures. Would be interesting to find out how much this is improvised or overdubbed – did he record the tracks in one go, or is this heavy cut and paste work?

9. Lee Konitz - Lone-Lee (Steeplechase) – Master of melody, and no licks or patterns whatsoever. I like the way he does Cherokee, nice and slow, no machismo tempo like the classic jazz way dictates. Pure improvisation in an especially creative period in his life (early seventies).

10: Maja Ratkje - Voice (Rune Grammophon) – I had hardly heard from this Norwegian composer, vocalist and electronic musician until I started reading the Dusted Listings. Found her wesbite, got curious, bought her solo CD last week and was very impressed. Not only does she sing beautifully and extreme at the same time, she processes her voice in a really nice and musical way. Plus nonsense texts, intense screaming, great mouth sounds and a home recorded feel to it. Her piece “Chipmunk Party” is the best, very successful use of short samples of her voice. What this record has against lot of other noise/electronic records that it’s compositionally very original, rather than just a bunch of stretchy sonic landscapes and interesting sounds.

Reviews on Jorrit Dijkstra Solo

Review in The Wire April 2002,by Andy Hamilton

"Loops beeps blips lirps bloops lurps burps" is Jorrit Dijkstra’s Website’s description of his new venture into processed saxophone. On Humming (Songlines), Dijkstra participated in game pieces on live processed saxophone with Canadian group Talking Pictures. 30 Micro-stems develops the ideas of Humming into a radical and satisfying new direction. Now, with the relatively simple live technology of loops and delays, backed by ring modulator, modular synthesizer and pitchshifter, the Dutch saxophonist convincingly expands his instrument’s possibilities.
Dijkstra has been a member of Amsterdam’s Improv scene since 1985. Now resident in the Boston area, he’s worked with Willem Breuker, Cor Fuhler, Mat Maneri and Jim Black. Earlier recordings for BVHaast featured his Trio Jorrit Dijkstra and. in total contrast, his current Sound-Lee project with pianist Guus Janssen resurrects the neglected cool school compositions of jazz saxophonist Lee Konitz.
Showing the breadth of Dijkstra’s aspirations, 30 micro-stems crosses the boundaries of the improvisational and the compositional. His alto playing has some affinities with Konitz’s, though its fluffy lightness also recalls Paul Desmond. On Micro-stems, however, processing, and his often abstract lines, give it a harder edge. On “Contrapunt #5”, as the title suggests, the focus is on interwoven, almost conversational lines, but with “Koot” the counterpoint gets very involved. If these pieces still have a jazz connection, elsewhere he moves away from a recognisable saxophone sounds, with bell tones, bass grumblings and Reichian phaseshifting creating some haunting soundscapes.

Review in Dusted Magazine summer 2002 By Charlie Wilmoth

One-man Saxophone Choir

Joritt Dijkstra begins 30 Micro Stems with an alto saxophone solo filled with blues-scale fragments and dotted with unpredictable, dissonant jumps. He plays with a hard, metallic tone and an idiosyncratic sense of phrasing. Then another saxophonist enters, and another, and another, forming a choir of Braxtonites singing in an angular, dense canon. It's impressively arranged and played-- particularly considering that, without overdubs, Dijkstra created all the saxophone sounds, using saxophone and electronic processing.

It pains me to even mention the way 30 Micro Stems was made, because it's much more than just a document of a musician's circus-monkey performance abilities. Dijkstra's approach to composition is consistently varied and often stunning. He possesses a genuine understanding of minimalist phasing techniques, which he uses to craft unsettling passages that sound as if their component parts can't agree on a meter. Dijkstra is also familiar with the extended technique of his instrument, which he employs only in the service of his compositional goals and never as an end in itself. And, most importantly, his saxophone and electronics clearly belong together, because most of the electronics are simply manipulations of his saxophone playing. This is a throughly listenable, well-conceived record regardless of the process behind it.

Still, it's tough to think about this CD without being amazed by the process. The liner notes say 30 Micro Stems was recorded using "all live improvisation and electronic processing (no overdubs)," meaning that Dijkstra completed each of these tracks in just one take. Given the complexity of some of these compositions, performing them on the fly is like doing multivariable calculus while competing in the Daytona 500. 30 Micro Stems is a thrilling new work by an exciting young talent.

Review in Signal to Noise 26, summer 2002. By David Greenberger

30 Micro-Stems features alto saxophonist Jorrit Dijkstra also utilizing lyricon and electronics, all of which were realized in a studio performance, with no overdubbing. Where his work with Mosaic is marked by a folkish character -- simple and direct melodies delivered with simple verve -- here it's decidedly more angular. He creates harmonic beds which he sometimes careens into with gleeful abandon. Catching elongated breaths and struck pads with warmth and clarity, the set never bogs down in repetition. Dijkstra clearly made it central to his agenda to explore as many disparate voicings as possible -- a wise move in the solo format. He moves easily between slinky and warped noirish settings to faux-balladry to Hendrixian envelope-pushing (as on "Faster than My Shadow").

Review on www.allaboutjazz.com March 2002 By Mark Corroto

When Dutch saxophonist Jorrit Dijkstra plays saxophone alone, he is never alone. His latest recording 30 Micro-Stems, while a solo effort, is filled with the loops and
delays that process sound, keeping him in good company. Dijkstra, a Dutch saxophonist is one of the stars on the Amsterdam scene releasing recordings on the BVHaast label. He works in various groups including his Trio Jorrit Dijkstra (sax/bass/drums), a quartet Sound-Lee! that plays the music of Lee Konitz, Jorrit Dijkstra + Strings (guitar/banjo/viola plus saxophone and electronic processing) and his recent critically acclaimed association with the Vancouver-based Talking Pictures. Last year's release Humming (Songlines) found Dijkstra collaborating with a sympathetic cast of trumpet/cello/guitar/drums, all of which was richly augmented (or maybe influenced) by electronic sound processing.

This solo disc pares away the sidemen, but doesn't lose the creativity of Dijkstra's other projects. While other saxophonist like Evan Parker and Luc Houtkamp's electronic project come to mind, Dijkstra neither repeats their approach nor follows their paths. He simply (and mostly sticks with very simple variations) records live improvisational responses to electronically processed sound. "Lines Recta" is a flowing piece of gently layered saxophone lines with a touch of digital pop-and-click that is at the same time futuristic and retro, like a 1970's sci-fi movie. He uses looping repetitions on "Mind The Gaps" and "Hickory" to engage the listener. So often the electronics dominate the affair, but with Dijkstra's work processed sound sets up his saxophone as the center stage presence. He also takes up the lyricon, an electronic wind-synthesizer on "Transducer (Contrapunt #14)." He has in effect a band in an electronics box. Sometimes he responds to the electronics and sometimes the processors respond to his sounds as on the title cut. What is ultimately noteworthy here is that this saxophone improviser builds engaging and very human music in collaboration with and in response to a machine presence. Jorrit Dijkstra can be further explored at www.jorritdijkstra.com.

Review in Performer Magazine Northeast May 2002 By Katie DeBonville

Jorrit Dijkstra is a musical innovator, and 30 Micro-stems is an exercise in the exploration of sound. On this album, the Dutch-born Dijkstra uses alto saxophone, lyricon (a synthesizer that can be manipulated to imitate the sounds of wind instruments), and various electronic sounds to create works of music that are marked by the layering and blending of melodic lines. The result of his work is just over an hour of intense, exciting listening. The use of the word "contrapunt" in three of the disk's tracks indicates that Dijkstra also has a thorough understanding of and appreciation for the music of J.S. Bach. Dijkstra's expertise in creating complex musical textures certainly harkens back to Bach's counterpoint, with multiple lines woven together so that they support one another yet could still stand alone as independent melodies. Dijkstra's contemporary counterpoint superimposes melody upon melody, resulting in rich layers of sound and striking harmonies. 30 Micro-stems is made all the more interesting by the fact that it was recorded live. While electronic sounds were used and processed, there was no overdubbing – it was a one-shot deal, and it worked remarkably well. "Contrapunt #5" begins with a buzzing saxophone sound that unfolds into a melody. Suddenly the single melodic line becomes a saxophone duet, and as the piece continues it begins to sound as though Dijkstra is blessed with an orchestra of saxophones. Another hallmark of Dijkstra's sound is the use of crisp, staccato attacks in the saxophone that create a percussive effect in his music. Dijkstra must have had fun recording "Koot," which begins with a repeating phrase that is soon joined by a jazzy melody. A bass sound gives the piece a new foundation, and more melodic lines are added one by one to the pot, creating a delectable saxophone stew. "Koot" offers a choice: the listener can follow each individual tune or explore the melodies and harmonies that are created as the lines combine. Additionally, just when it seems that one melodic line has taken the lead, one is bound to find that what is currently being heard is entirely different from what has just passed. For those who are intrigued by the sheer beauty of sound, "Linea Recta" provides a sterling example of musical texture. A single saxophone note is layered for the first minute of the piece, with some wavering in pitch tossed in for variety. Eventually Dijkstra places a melody over this note, in a range so high it sounds as if it could be a soprano saxophone. "Linea Recta" forces one to listen for the subtle differences within the layers – and those differences are indeed present, if not in pitch, then in minute variations in the way the line is performed. The piece requires effort on the part of the listener, but those who expend the effort will not be disappointed. (Trytone Records)