Douglas Sealy reviews a performance from Lance Coburn (piano) at the Hugh Lane Gallery, Dublin, while Ray Comiskey finds the comfort zone with Roy Hargrove at Vicar Street, Dublin, and Kevin Courtney braves the elements for David Gray at the Point
Lance Coburn (piano) at the Hugh Lane Gallery, Dublin
Reflection 11 ......................................John Kinsella
Five Bagatelles (1995)...............................Carl Vine
Piano Sonata (1990) ..................................Carl Vine
In the second recital of the Association of Irish Composers Autumn Series 2002 pride of place was given to Carl Vine (b.1954) from Australia. After John Kinsella's Reflection 11, in which short declamatory phrases gave way to gentler undulating lines of undoubtedly pensive import, with a hint of nostalgia, Vine's Five Bagatelles sounded almost brash in their vigour.
The final one, called Threnody, was deliberately simple and, like some of Schumann's Kinderszenen, showed that profound effects can be obtained by the most modest of means.
The main work in Sunday's recital in the Hugh Lane Gallery was Vine's Piano Sonata (1990). Unusually, it was commissioned by the Sydney Dance Company for a ballet, and this is probably one of the causes of its strongly rhythmic nature.
The basic rhythm is surmounted and challenged by counter rhythms, from which tunes seem to emerge almost involuntarily, and the superimposition of many layers of sound leads to stunning climaxes.
Despite the complexity of the texture, the work makes an immediate appeal with its extrovert energy; and in Lance Coburn it has an interpreter who can present it with an exciting New World freshness.
Douglas Sealy
***
Roy Hargrove at Vicar Street, Dublin
The penultimate concert in the ESB jazz series's autumn season brought one of the music's outstanding young trumpeters to Dublin for the first time . Leading his own quintet, completed by Justin Robinson (alto), Ronnie Mathews (piano), Dwayne Burno (bass) and Willie Jones III (drums), Hargrove quickly demonstrated his capabilities on the opening numbers, a modal piece and an ingratiatingly melodic original, neither of which he identified.
In fact, beyond introducing his band at the end of each set, Hargrove confined his communication with the audience to playing. And he certainly connected with them; the band received an ecstatic reception and responded by coming back for a good-humoured encore.
There is no doubt that this is an accomplished group which, despite a few unsettling moments involving Mathews - a fine soloist - is at ease with itself.
Hargrove is a gifted player capable of creating interesting lines, which seldom rely on clichés or on what lies under the fingers, Robinson is a superior saxophonist, in spite of a tendency to run changes when his inspiration flags, and both drums and bass were always alert and supportive.
However, if you sense a "but" in all of this, you're right.
Hargrove, for example, seemed to be playing within himself; his ballad features, They Say It's Wonderful and When I Fall In Love, showed what his phrasing and gorgeous flugelhorn sound could do to a melody, but gave little hint of his renowned talent for soloing on material like this.
The band's idiom, too, is a blend of what is essentially hard bop, with the kind of modal experimentation that pianist Herbie Hancock and trumpeter Freddie Hubbard carried out in the early 1960s.
It's well played, but no more than that, which, given the music's retro concerns, is disappointing; most of all though, this excellent band seemed to be playing from the comfort zone.
Ray Comiskey
***
David Gray at the Point Theatre, Dublin
With rain pelting down and Dublin traffic at a standstill, this was a night to curl up at home in the warmth and listen to your copy of White Ladder. But David Gray's fans are made of hardy stuff, and neither rain, floods nor gridlock kept them away from the first of his three sold-out nights at the Point.
White Ladder is now the biggest selling album in Irish recorded history, outperforming U2, A Woman's Heart and Faith Of Our Fathers. Not bad for a Welsh-raised Mancunian. Over a judiciously paced two-hour set, Gray played every track on the album but one, and also served up a large selection from his current chart-topper, A New Day At Midnight. He opened with The Other Side, and settled into Real Love, My Oh My, Be Mine and a version of Velvet Underground's Pale Blue Eyes. Setting a cosy, comfortable atmosphere was easy; taking it up to an emotional high proved a tad tougher, but songs like Dead In The Water, Freedom, We're Not Right and Last Boat To America lifted things up a rung or two.
Gray's grainy voice may be all too familiar to us now, but it still has enough power and passion to fill the venue; his band are almost telepathically entwined, playing with razor sharp precision and admirable restraint. Tim Bradshaw switched between keyboards and guitars, adding extra vision to A Clean Pair Of Eyes, Long Distance Call, Dead In The Water and Silver Lining. Rob Malone's bass rumbled warmly beneath the mix, but the drummer, known simply as Clune, was plainly on fire, driving the music forward with virtuoso abandon. Late Night Radio segued thunderously into Faster, Sooner, Now, setting the scene for the night's high-point, Babylon.
The encore was more like a second half, and started off with Gray playing piano on This Year's Love, backed only by the stage curtain. Clune added soaring backing vocals to Easy Way To Cry, and also showed a new workout technique using just a tambourine.
The band plugged in again for Sail Away, December and Please Forgive Me, but that flash of electricity which ran through their Belfast gig on Tuesday was a mere flicker in Thursday's dampness.
Tonight, though, I've no doubt that sparks will fly.
Kevin Courtney
