London Jazz Festival rounds off with beat scientists and sensuous plunking

On Friday, drummer/producer and self-proclaimed “beat scientist” Makaya McCraven provided a swirling mix of joy and sorrow at the Islington Assembly Hall. Backbeats crackled with whiplash power, the hip-hop vibe came with crystal-clear sound; the performance gripped from the off and grew more intense.

The gig, postponed from last year, was loosely based on McCraven’s excellent new release In These Times — “Seventh String” opened the evening, the title track came mid-set and “Lullaby” towards the end. As on the album, grooves of string-theory complexity changed tempo and mood and solos emerged while playing their part. That album’s large cast includes harp, sax and strings, but here the compositions’ melodies, textures and beats were captured by the quartet of McCraven associates who were the album’s core. Junius Paul, a funky, deep-toned foundation on bass guitar, was joined by trumpeter Marquis Hill and the amazing guitarist Matt Gold.

The evening opened with sparse hi-hat twinned with bass drum beats and strums of guitar echoing in space — the guitarist’s glides, slurs and strums were etched with precision and enthralled all night. Drum rolls and crashes called the piece to a halt, and then, without pause, a unison theme was played just behind the crack of a smart hip-hop snare.

Amazingly, McCraven’s band maintained power and focus for nearly two hours, with timings so exactly placed that an error could spell humiliation, if not disaster. Yet they seemed to arrive organically, from within, and far from being a straitjacket, spurred soloists to emotional heights. Hill’s modernist phrasing coiled round the pulse, muted lines were broody and effects pedals added anger and fire. Guitarist Gold conjured guttural tones, dulcet plunks and shimmers with hardly a pedal in sight, each with the strength of the blues. Leader McCraven, an understated technician with a pristine sound, zipped round his kit while playing the pulse to raise the crowd.

But it was the band’s collective energy that packed a punch and provided the detail that enthralled the crowd. Songs were joined together by the end of the set, cued as from nowhere by a sharp rat-a-tat. An encore was guaranteed, so no point in the band leaving the stage. It began in jazzy mode, looped this way and that and teased the audience right to the end. ★★★★★

Saxophonist, mixed-media artist and composer Matana Roberts’ Coin Coin project summons ghostly wreaths of the African-American past into contemporary left-field shape. She proposes 12 chapters but on Thursday, at the Barbican Centre’s Milton Court, she presented Chapter IV: Memphis. The piece weaves orchestrated improv into narrative text and was released as an album in 2019. Yet this was the first time it had been performed live with an ensemble.

Roberts narrates the story in diary form: that of an adult rekindling a life-changing moment from childhood. Sunday, for example, opens with a depiction of church, Tuesday has a character sketch of an uncle scarred by war, and Friday a lethal visit from the KKK. The child escapes to the woods and the work’s refrain is made clear: “I’m a child of the wind, even daddy said so, run baby run, run like the wind.” Roberts, a gripping storyteller, brings the narrative poetically to life.

But the text comes in snatches and it is music that makes up the evening’s greater part. The supporting quintet’s multi-instrumental skills take in fiddle, accordion, guitar and oud, adding folkloric textures to a jazz-improv base. Drummer Ryan Sawyer rattled round his kit and Joy Guidry’s bassoon was a mournful presence. Roberts’s vibrant alto sax was joyful, but for the most part she orchestrated the group’s dynamics, ensemble stabs and who-plays-what, even when playing sax. Each musical tableau intrigued, and was ably played, but with no one stretching out and all eyes on Roberts, it felt like a first night. ★★★☆☆

The evening had opened with a carefully constructed performance piece from artist/musician Jasper Marsalis, working under the stage name Slauson Malone, and accompanied by cellist Nicky Wetherell. Razor-sharp dynamics, instrumental virtuosity and the ability to make everyday anxieties seem profound created a highlight opening set.

Marsalis has a powerful voice, is adept on guitar, and mingles and short-circuits many styles. Here, screeched heavy metal vocals morphed to velvet croon and dulcet strums gained acid bite. Triggers and samples were purposeful, Wetherell swapped grainy bowing with sensuous plunks and you never knew what was coming next. ★★★★☆

The centrepiece of the Southbank Centre’s festival finale was Cuban pianist/composer Chucho Valdés performing his new work La Creación. The suite, based on the Afro-Cuban Santería religion’s version of the creation tale, adds two keyboard players to the power and pizzazz of the eight-piece Yoruban Orchestra. Vocals soared in harmony, brassy modernist riffs took Cuban shape, and drums and percussion spun a tight rhythmic web. By the evening’s end, the audience was on its feet, the roots of Afro-Cuban jazz laid bare.

But Valdés began his set unaccompanied, conjuring rhythm and romance from the Royal Festival Hall’s concert grand. Spell cast, a single riff cued percussion, bass and drums and Valdés unleashed a tour de force of slammed rhythmic discords, rich ballad cadences and rippling, full-keyboard runs. The showcase ended with the Gershwins’ “But Not For Me” moving from swing to son, a percussion duet that won wild applause.

La Creación begins with a rumble of double bass and a scattering of chords and develops through a series of dazzling, detailed set pieces. The keening vocal harmonies of Santería ritual came early, a soul jazz waltz at the end, and snippets of Bud Powell referenced New York modern jazz. Valdés set up each episode from behind the concert grand, and keyboardists Hilario Durán and John Beasley took turns to conduct the orchestra’s precision dynamics and rhythmic twists.

Vocalist Erick De Guevara’s high tenor was compelling, percussionist Roberto Torre twinned congas and cowbells for an early highlight and drummer Dafnis Prieto delivered fireworks at the end. The encore, “Bacalao Con Pan”, marks a popular Cuban dish. Here it was infused with rumba, full of drama, and only encouraged more.

Earlier, the evening had opened with a flamboyant and sensual set from cellist, vocalist and songwriter Ana Carla Maza, who bowed, plucked and slapped her cello with conviction and worked the audience a treat. Powerful vocals and skilled musicianship won the crowd; songs ranged from pre-Columbian lament and a homage to Astor Piazzolla to a celebration of Bahía, the Havana barrio where Caza spent her childhood. ★★★★☆

efglondonjazzfestival.org.uk