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"Probability Symphony in the Style of Jazz in 5 Parts for 4 Players" Print
"Probability Symphony in the Style of Jazz in 5 Parts for 4 Players"
("Golden Years of the Soviet New Jazz. Vol. II") eng, fre, pol, rus
  • Duncan Heining, "Jazzwise", May, 2002
  • Dan Warburton, "Signal to Noise", 2002, USA
  • Barry Witherden, "JazzReview", 2002
  • Philip Clark, "The Wire", 2002, UK
  • Derek Taylor, "Cadence", 7/2002, UK
  • Marc Sarrazy, "Improjazz", 4/2002, France
  • "Coda", 6/2002
  • http://www.allaboutjazz.com/php/article.php?id=9501
"PROBABILITY SYMPHONY IN THE STYLE OF JAZZ IN FIVE PARTS FOR FOUR PLAYERS" CD (LEO) UK, 2001

 

Duncan Heining, Jazzwise, May 2002, UK. "Golden Years of the Soviet New Jazz, Vol II" (Leo GY 405-408)

One of this four CDs - Mikhail Chekalin - would probably rate a 'Recommended' tag released on its own. <...> Finally, the great. I've never heard of synth virtuoso, Mikhail Chekalin, before, perhaps because he seems to spend most of his time holed up in his studio. However, this music is what we used to call 'progressive' before the name got misappropriated by Yes, Pink Floyd and any band featuring a 20-minute drum solo. Featuring a rare live collaboration with the Sergey Trofimov New Jazz Trio, this is music to stir the blood. The quality of the playing and the empathy between the musicians suggests a much longer association and guitarist, Trofimov, is something of a find. This is music for fans of Lifetime and, more especially, Last Exit. Music that doesn't comb its hair or say 'please' or 'thank you'. Ironic really, but jazz in the Soviet Union is perhaps the only proof of Trotsky's Theory of Combined and Uneven Development. It seems to have passed to a state of free jazz without passing through a state of swing and bebop.


Dan Warburton, Signal to Noise, 2002, Paris Transatlantic Magazine March 2002, USA. "Golden Years of the Soviet New Jazz Vols. 1 & 2" (Leo GY 401-408, 2х4CD)

<...> To describe the reclusive Mikhail Chekalin as Russia's Jean-Michel Jarre would be doing him (Chekalin) a disservice, but with a discografy of over forty solo albums of cosmic synth music to his name, Chekalin's fame has managed to spread far beyond Moscow, where he chooses to work alone in a self-designed basement studio. Down in the Ukranian city of Dnepropetrovsk, guitarist Sergey Trofimov was sufficiently blown away to contact Chekalin, asking to record with him, and to his surprise found himself invited, along with drummer Valery Zhilin and saxophonist Yuri Belenko, to record with Chekalin in Moscow's Sovremennik Theatre. "Probability Symphony in the Style of Jazz" was apparently cut live without any prior rehearsal or discussion, and is an amazing (if at time exasperating) sixty-five minute journey into the no-man's land between musical genres; Chekalin's harmonic language is hardly Day-Glo, but he is not averse to throwing in the odd common chord now and then, while Zhilin manages to propel the music forward without ever really locking into a groove, and Belenko's saxes explore the frontiers of bop and fusion without ever fully revealing who he's been listening to. Trofimov's screaming fusion guitar sound does try the patience now and then, but Chekalin's weird mix, where thick blankets of reverb-drenched synths can and do suddenly appear and disappear without warning, keeps the listener guessing. In short, it sounds like nothing else you've ever heard - too odd and disjointed to space out to, but far too scattered and blurred to appeal to those expecting a Russian Return to Forever, yet fascinating enough to make this listener at least want to search out more work by this obscure keyboard wizard. <...>


Barry Witherden, Jazz Review, 2002, USA. "Golden Years Of the New Soviet Jazz, Vol. II" (Leo GY 405-408 4CD)

<...> The "Probability Symphony" was produced in one take without discussion between Chekalin, Belenko, Trofimov and Zhilin. After the Arctic caverns of "Garden-Prayer-Abyss" this sounds like we are in the craters of Mars, witnessing a bleak but hypnotic beauty. In the long second movement dormant volcanoes begin to re-activate, in the third, the shades of former inhabitants re-live their memories, in the fourth... OK, what I really mean is, lines of half-formed floating melody waft around, or the musicians get stuck into something more rhythmic, or produce washes of exotic instrumental colour, or engage in frenetic, abstract improvisation. It's rich, eventful, consistently enjoyable: there's stirring playing from Belenko, but everyone at one point or another produces moments of real excitement, originality or grace. <...> This set takes a big chunk out of your life, but it repays concentrated listening. Little "real jazz" here, it has to be said, but much gripping improv and post-modern chamber music.


Philip Clark, The Wire, 2002, UK. Golden Years of the Soviet New Jazz Volume 2 (LEO GY 405-408, 4CD)

Reviewing volume one of this series focusing on Soviet jazz from the 80s and 90s (The Wire 214) Ben Watson highlighted his problems with the term "Soviet New Jazz" and cogently summarised the correlation berween what it means to be an artist in a totalitarian society and the resulting ironic humour. This latest instalment largely concentrates on the darker side of that equation. <...> If "Orkestrion"'s aesthetics are derived from suffocating alienation, then the alienation of synthesizer player Mikhail Chekalin has been partly self-imposed. As Leo Feigin reports, Chekalin has "made it his aesthetic, social and political concept not to conform, mix or collaborate with anyone else" and has worked exclusively out of a basement studio in Moscow. The only exception was in 1994: Chekalin's "Probability Symphony In The Style Of Jazz" was a collaboration with a trio led by Ukrainian guitarist Sergey Trofimov, which featured saxophonist Yuri Belenko and drummer Valery Zhilin. It's a labyrinth lasting 65 minutes, anchored by the elaborate sonic landscapes Chekalin weaves from his synthesizer. The feeling of infinite space and Chekalin's scorched textures are challenged by a rhythmic bumpiness and constant asides. Trofimov adds weirdly melting riffs while both Belenko and Zhilin feel like isolated figures in barren terrain. Belenko has a supremely expressive wailing tone on tenor saxophone and his dislocation is heightened by being placed slightly out of the microphone's range. Zhilin's drums rattle menacingly, subverting confident swing. <...>


Derek Taylor, Cadence, July 2002, UK. Volume 2 of Leo Records' ambitious "Golden Years of the Soviet New Jazz" (Leo GY 405-408)

<...> Mikhail Chekalin & Sergey Trofimov co-lead the New Jazz Trio on disc three through a five-part symphony scripted in style of Jazz. (Chekalin, synth, vcl, p; Sergey Trofimov, g; Valery Zhilin, d; Yuri Belenko, saxes. Recorded: 5|21|94, Moscow). The program leans heavily on Chekalin's synthesizer pyrotechnics and Trofymov's blowtorch guitar, but pockets of reposeful interplay surface along the way. <...>


Marc Sarrazy, Improjazz, Avril 2002, France. Le Volume II de la serie Soviet New Jazz (Leo Records)

<...> Le niveau de ce second volume est au moins aussi bon que celui du premier. Gros lot de (tres) bonnes surprises... <...> Le cas Mikhail Chekalin reste résolument à part, en marge de la scène russe: car là où les uns et les autres tentaient tant bien que mal de se connecter, de se rencontrer, cet explorateur des synthétiseurs s’est littéralement emmuré dans sa demeure aménagée en studio pour expérimenter en solitaire (certains de ses concerts privés se sont soldés par des périodes de détention par le KGB...) Un choix qui ne l'a pas empeche de sortir trente ou quarante disques dans le milieux underground de Moscou. A ce titre, la piece en cinq mouvements presentee ici, Probability Symphony in the Style of Jazz in Five Parts for Four Players reste tout a fait exceptionnelle puisqu'elle est le fruit de sa rencontre - ponctuelle, cela va de soi - avec le Sergey Trofimov New Jazz Trio... Lorsqu'on connait la qualite des sons de certain synthes regulierement employes en Russie, on est en droit de craindre les pires affres du kitsch... Eh bien detrompez-vous! Cette symphony souterraine du bizarre se tisse de manière éclatante et ténébreuse à coups d’accords malencontreux aux claviers, de traits de guitare hurlante, de saxophone enfiévré et de batterie fracassante! Une musique glauque et si brûlante que par endroits on la sent qui se gondole... <...> Deux volumes qu'il vaut mieux ne pas laisser passer (sous le mauvais pretexte que les musiciens sont russes, obscurs ou fondamentalement inconnus <...> ): les decouvertes en valent largement la chandelle, et cet achat me semble le meilleur investissement du moment (non, je n'ai pas d'actions chez Leo Records!). <...>


Coda, May / June 2002, France. "Golden Years of the New Soviet Jazz, Vol. 2, Disc 3: Mikhail Chekalin"

Billed as the "leading artist from Russia in terms of the cosmic synthesizer", Chekalin (now in his early 40s) appears to be a quintessential loner, churning out music from the confines of his personal studio. In this instance, he was approached by guitarist Sergey Trofimov and his New Jazz Trio (with Valery Zhilin, drums and Yuri Belenko, saxes) for a session entitled "Probability Symphony in the Style of Jazz in Five Parts for Four Players" (can one think of anything more ponderous sounding that that?). When one consider the 'probability' part of the title, it seems far removed from any jazz content - unless you're willing to admit the most eclectic kinds of improvised musics within that realm.


John Cratchley, Rubberneck, 2002, "Golden Years Of New Jazz" Leo Records

<...> Disc three is by the Muscovite synthesiser artist Mikhail Chekalin and was recorded live (no audience) at the theatre Sovremennik with the Sergey Trofimov New Jazz Trio in 1994. <...>

<...> Disc three sees yet another change of emphasis. Mikhail Chekalin is a prolific musician with over 30 recordings to his name and he is Russia's foremost exponent of what is described as the "cosmic synthesiser sound". Conservatory trained yet reclusive in nature, he has deliberately chosen to cut himself off from all outside influences (be it conservative or avant-garde) in order to pursue his own musical path. In a purpose built studio in central Moscow he has honed his skills and in the process become the epitome of the underground artist. Ukranian guitarist Sergey Trofimov sought out Chekalin with a view to recording with him and Chekalin was flattered enough to agree. With the rest of Trofimov's trio in tow (Valery Zhilin on drums and Yuri Belenko on saxophones) the foursome retired to the Sovremennik theatre in Moscow to record the 'Probability Symphony In The Style of Jazz in Five Parts For Four Players'. Recorded live and without rehearsal, discussion or long breaks between sections, the symphony was laid down in one take only. It is a work of astonishing cohesion considering the process of evolution surrounding it. Dispel any thoughts of cosmic noodling, however, as this set is full of invention and immediacy. Although not the best recording quality (the theatre sounds like a very large space and the musicians are a little distant) the music shines through. Synthesiser washes of both broad brush strokes and tiny gesture are evident throughout the piece. Chekalin has a full sound palette and obviously provides huge inspiration for his younger collaborators. Belenko opens proceedings with an acerbic soprano solo full of wailing surges and staccato blips, the natural echo of the theatre enhancing his tone. Zhilin adds beautifully ringing cymbal tones that are crystal clear. Chekalin's voice drifts through the piece in an almost semi-religious litany that gives the work spiritual quality. We have to wait some time for Trofimov to enter but when he eventually does, it is with visceral emphasis. He has a rock inflected tone reminiscent of, say, Joe Satriani but is far more interested in the overall structure of the improvisation than any thoughts about personal solo glory. The discipline invoked by all four players is exemplary and the music moves forward in tidal surges of collaborative improvisation only to subside into natural moments of calm for the regrouping of forces. Once everybody is warmed up and mutual wavelengths have been established the symphony takes flight with Zhilin grasping the opportunity to range all over his kit with alacrity. It is difficult to believe at times that this work has not been thoroughly rehearsed, so integral is the playing. The level of intuition on display here is truly outstanding. <...>


Rafał Księżyk, "Diapazon" #41 (71), Poland, 2002/2 "Golden Years Of Soviet New Jazz" Leo Records

Mikhail Chekalin zasłynął jako lider rosyjskiej kosmicznej elektroniki, a przy tym niezłomny bohater undergroundu stroniący od wszelkich kompromisów z kulturą radziecką. Sprawiło to, iż większość jego nagrań to solowe, domowe realizacje - dziś dostępne na kilkudziesięcieu albumach wydanych w Rosji i Niemczech. Tutaj otrzymujemy unikalny zapis występu artysty z zespołem. Wynurzające się z medytacyjnych przestrzeni ogniste improwizacje na syntezator, saksofon, gitarę i bębny wpisują się w tradycję kosmicznego rocka. Przeszywane tajemniczymi świstami przestrzenie tworzone są jednak z jazzowym nerwem - zamiast ciągnąć do przodu jak transowi space rockowcy, gęsta kolektywna improwizacja Rosjan wydaje się narastać w kręgach - majestatycznie rozlewa się w bezkres. Jest mrocznie i surowo, choć jakby zbyt wiele dźwięków. Dosłuchać się tu można ech Soft Machine i Gong, ale w bardziej surowym wydaniu i z przywołującymi ducha Coltrane'a solami saksofonu.


Glenn Astarita, All About Jazz, 2003 "Golden Years Of the Soviet New Jazz" Volume II (Leo Records)

<...> Keyboardist, Mikhail Chekalin, and his quartet propagate an air of mystery amid infusions of progressive rock and semi-classical movements. Essentially, the group’s overall sound could be analogous to - a symphony of abstractions.

Glenn Astarita, All About Jazz, 1/3/2002 "Golden Years Of the Soviet New Jazz" Volume II (Leo Records)

This nicely structured collection represents the second of two recently issued 4-CD sets of what has been coined: “Soviet New Jazz.” And while some folks might assume that these are strictly novelty items, that notion does not apply here. Deeply entrenched in classical music, many Russians have exhibited a keen interest in jazz and pop throughout the years, despite the repressive nature of the former Soviet Union. Naturally, many of the classically trained musicians did not enjoy full access to vast catalogues of LPs, sheet music, CDs, books and so on. But in some instances, these scenarios, can work unusually well. Where artists assimilate what they know into personalized interpretations or more importantly, reinventions of standard conventions. Culled from various sources, the material on these four CDs were recorded between 1984 and 1994

Subsequent to listening to these discs, it became apparent that the musicians frequently embedded theatrics into their respective repertoires. Therefore, a sense of autonomy prevails throughout these predominately audacious free-jazz, avant-garde, and sometimes farcical enactments. The multitasking aggregation known as “Jazz Group Arkhangelsk,” rekindles notions of the “Art Ensemble of Chicago,” as the instrumentalists’ flirt with world music, multiethnic slants, and free improv. This group’s conceptions make for a fantastic series of escapades, as the ensemble melds, renegade-like brass parts with African rhythmic endeavors. The larger aggregation, “Jazz Group Arkhangelsk and Friends,” pursues hallowed wordless vocal atmospherics, unbridled rhythmic flurries, and penetrating arrangements. While the sextet known as “Orkestrion,” pulls out all of the stops via live EFX, chamberesque interludes, bird sounds, bells, percussion and much more. “Orkestrion” is most effective at superseding any inklings of normalcy, as the band’s microtonal soundscapes and hazy dreamlike passages drum up visions of an outlandishly strange Amazonian ritual. The band also incorporates melodramatic episodes into a series of works that defy categorization yet seems so au natural. Perhaps the musicians are discombobulating the history of music while reassembling all of the parts into some sort of delusional framework. Conversely, keyboardist, Mikhail Chekalin, and his quartet propagate an air of mystery amid infusions of progressive rock and semi-classical movements. Essentially, the group’s overall sound could be analogous to - a symphony of abstractions.

Disc 4 features alto saxophonist, Petras Vysniauskas’ echo-laden creations, complete with Vyacheslav Ganelin’s (of Ganelin Trio notoriety) spacey synth-based effects in support of the leader’s plaintive cries. While listening to this set in particular, I could not help but envision some sort of offbeat, Cinema Verite type documentary. However, the musicians’ cathartic dogmas present us with something that rings of freedom, and hope. The listener might experience similar emotional responses or vibes throughout these extraordinary performances! Strongly recommended. (limited edition of 750 copies)

 
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