Louisa Williamson
This gig was part of the Wellington Jazz Festival 2024 (October 16- 20).
On Thursday night we climbed the stairs, bought our wines and settled in to experience the debut of an specially commissioned piece called The Chasm Where We Fall Into Each Other, written by saxophonist, composer, and band leader Louisa Williamson, as part of this year’s Wellington Jazz Festival. It was a fine thing to see the awaiting queue snake up Cuba Street, a solid confirmation that Wellingtonians love their Jazz and an opportunity to get out and experience new music in all its forms. It was close to a full house, seated and civilised, many of our more genteel members of society chose to ‘slum’ with the kids at Poneke’s own version of CBGB’s. I heard a few audible gasps when a couple of more well-heeled and senior patrons emerged from the highly ‘decorated’ conveniences, not appreciating the value of graffiti and tagging was all part of the venue’s legendary charm.
Backed by a young and truly gifted eight-piece, Williamson led her band through a series of pieces that make up the full body of the Chasm work. There featured many moments for a violinist (Hayden Nickel), keyboards (Leo Coghini) and drums (Cory Champion), bass (Johnny Lawrence) and plenty of colour from a multi-tasking percussionist (Ensai).
Ensai (Percussion)
The work, she told me in a recent interview, “explores the concept of division both literally and figuratively. It’s easy to fall into the chasm you didn’t know was there.” The chasm was partially inspired by the ancient Putuna Chasm, in the Wairarapa and serves both a both physical and mental reference point. It also spans, for her, between the past and the present. The chasm is a centuries-old faultline with an underground river that flows through it to the surface. The present, as appears in some of her lyrics, more mundane and physical things like pavement cacks and broken hearts. There are rifts, politically, ideologically, and artistically, as well.
Tonight’s music was blend of avant-garde jazz, classical, electronic, rap, and hip-hop. At times, it was the traditional Charlie Parker and Mingus arrangements, similar to Rodger Fox’s choices (of which, no surprise, Williamson cut her chops playing with in the Rodger Fox Big Band).But there are also elements of soul and rap, Te Reo Maori gets a few seconds in the spotlight, as does a few nods to choral work and even salsa.
MA
The piece starts with a rolling effect, all instruments in a syncopated tide, before flowering out into a flowering out into a braided river of soulful inflections, punctuated by some wonderful performances by Ma (Maarire Brunning-Kouka) and Aotearoa/Samoan Opera singer Lila (LJ) Crichton. LJ’s vocals are so honey-sweet they may the hairs on the back of the neck stand up. Watch this space, this talent will go far, I believe. As the piece moves along, a spicy salsa beat emerges giving a perfect platform for Williamson’s smooth and throaty alto sax solo, the first of several brilliant moments in this performance.
Ma shines on the second half of the piece with streetwise nu-soul vocals that reminded me of Erykah Badu. Her approach is tough, but sassy, and her command of the mic is all class.
The second piece moves slowly at first (like the river in the chasm) on a trickling, repeating riff of just bass, keys and single notes from an electric violin. As it builds, Williamson’s sax comes in like a dark overcoat of sound. LJ’s operatic tenor vocals sweeten the mood, then joined by Ma for the ‘chorus lines’ “Take all of me/We’ll find a bridge to set you free.” This is a line that will repeat and repeat.
LJ Crichton
Then it all builds again toa torrent of sound, like a heavy stream, with a rockier pop beat and a groovy sax solo. There are breaks for percussion and keys, aptly played before it all slows down, like a train or, to carry on the water analogy, like a ship docking, slowly and with a heavy weight of responsibility.
The next piece has a slower classical feel, reminding me of some of repertoire from Fox’s tuition classes, his legacy is all over this (and I say that in a supportive way – being the hero of Jazz for so many of our most talented musicians).
For a short time Ensai plays a taonga puoro, a flute, a koauau, I believe. I wish that there was more space of this in the composition. But it’s a brief appearance, sadly. Because there must be room made for sparring between Williamson’s sax and Ensai’s other percussive instruments (especially bongos and some tiny tinkling bel chimes, which have a fairy-like presence).
More solos, from Williamson, and drummer Cory Champion, who adopts a slow tension build up, relying heavily on his floor tom for an almost tribal beat. That gives way eventually to a sexy lounge solo from keyboardist Leo Coghini. Towards the end of his feature, he breaks into a synth part that sounds like a heavy metal guitar solo. I squinted to see if someone else had snuck in on stage – but no. That was a cool an unexpected addition.
Cory Champion
The groove continues, giving Ma the opportunity to bust out a few rhymes. It would have been good to be able to hear these just a bit more clearly – sadly, they got lost in the mix.
It all sweels like the waters of Putuna to a raging torrent, exploding into the daylight from the dark depths. And finally, and reluctantly, the natural machine of the Chasm slows down, as the opening roll in reverse until, inevitable, silence.
The reception was warm, with many on their feet in appreciation. Overall, I think a triumph. I was just a little bit proud myself that such talent came from my own hometown – as were the audience, many friends and whanau and quite rightly fulling owning their own joy and appreciation. We were promised and twist in the conventions of jazz as we know it, and I think we got it. Well done, Louisa Williamson. This was just brilliant! Mauruuru koe. Kia rere noa nga wai o to taranata ki te moana angitu!
Photo Credit: Nick George