Peter Van Huffel – Like The Rusted Key (2010)

Photo: Juan-Carlos Hernandez

by S. Victor Aaron

In my humble opinion, it’s not the improvised (aka “whack”) jazz that seems toughest to compose and render, nor is it the more mellifluous but intricate modern jazz. Rather, it’s the the kind of jazz that successfully combines both approaches. To me, it’s a marvel how a few talented and visionary musicians can be so exploratory and free, and yet leave you with a melody or some sort of a pattern of chords that can remain stuck in your consciousness and sometimes, they’re even hummable. That’s the real beauty of Ornette Coleman’s music and others like William Parker and Henry Threadgill also pull off this neat trick with ease.

Such are the qualities you’ll also find in alto saxophonist Peter Van Huffel.

Canadian born but currently residing in Berlin since 2008, Van Huffel first spent about six years in NYC. During his time there he issued a couple of albums, like Silverster Battlefield (2007), that featured his New York-based PVH Quintet. Last summer, Van Huffel assembled a new, international quintet that recorded the sessions from which Like The Rusted Key, released this month, is the result.

Van Huffel’s new quartet carries over New York pianist Jesse Stacken from the PVH Quintet, adds fellow Berliner by way of Canada Miles Perkin on acoustic bass and rounds out the foursome with renowned Swiss drummer Samuel Rohrer. Though assembled expressly for this record, the Peter Van Huffel Quartet displays synchronicity and cunning usually only found in combos performing together for several years.

That nimbleness these guys possess is required for Van Huffel’s unique, often unpredictable compositions. “Tangent” shows this off the best. Stacken and Van Huffell play a rapid main melodic line that is harmonized by Stacken’s left hand and Perkin’s bass, and Perkins along with Rohrer’s drums provide a counter-rhythm, too. Already this is an elaborate piece that wonderfully falls together like a well oiled machine when smack dab in the middle of it Van Huffel breaks it up with a quick succession of notes, signaling the band to shift into free-form improvisation that manages to maintain a tenuous link to the first half of the song. The theme finally returns in the last thirty seconds before an abrupt ending. It’s artsy but so what? It’s got swagger by the bushels.

“Drift” develops much more slowly, eventually settling down into a groove, and that’s when Perkins emerges. Typically I struggle to get through bass solos, even really good ones, but the one Perkin drops in the middle of “Drift” demands attention for it’s deeply lyrical stance that maintains a steadfastly rhythmic sensibility, blending right into the song instead of clashing against it. Almost imperceptibly, the tempo quickens afterwards, and Van Huffel probes a harmony that emerged along the way.

“Enghavevej” is charged by the rhythmically insistent march; Stacken solos with that in mind using mostly full chords before making way gradually to Rohrer’s propulsive drum solo. By contrast, the duo performed “Melancholic” is a minimalist piece, whereby Stacken introduces a chord at uneven intervals and Huffel harmonizes over it, sometimes even introducing a new chord right before or at the same time as Stacken. Rohrer’s unconventional percussion provides the bedrock for “Backward Momentum,” the same piece where Van Huffel blows an extended, impassioned solo with long notes punctuated by ascending and descending phrasing.

The most “out” pieces are the three beastly ones: “Intro To Beast”, “Beast I” and “Beast II,” which Van Huffel dispersed throughout the record. I like this strategy, as they are all discreet ideas even as they are interconnected, deserving to be digested individually. Stacken tosses out some Cecil Taylor ruminations on “Intro,” joined by Perkins’ bowed bass and Rohrer’s drums. Rohrer in turn ushers in “Beast I,” setting up an obstacle course of rhythmic cones that Van Huffel and Stacken slalom around in three minutes flat. “Beast II” is the most fully developed composition of the trio, with Perkin’s bowed bass laying down a dark, brooding vibe that Van Huffel, Rohrer and Stacken build upon in a harmolodic way.

Peter Van Huffel is the mastermind behind Like The Rusted Key, but much of the mastery found on this record comes from the contributions of four like-minded individuals who flesh out Van Huffel’s abstract visions into shapes and sounds, converting sheet music into distinct personalities. After all, that delicate dance between modern jazz and out jazz can’t be done in a vacuum.

Like The Rusted Key comes to us through Fresh Sound New Talent Records. Visit Van Huffel’ websites at petervanhuffel.com or at MySpace.

Purchase: Peter Van Huffel – Like The Rusted Key


S. Victor Aaron

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