Pulse Magazine Feature Aug 17, 2005
Steve McPherson
“It’s interesting to me that you’re calling it jazz because I have some sort of freaky time with that word just because it’s this feeling of being pigeonholed,” says Jacqueline Ferrier-Ultan. “Because to me I don’t hear it as jazz: I hear it as chamber music, I hear it as choral or gospel music. It’s this really organic thing within itself that has its own life.” And I grudgingly have to admit she’s right, but it doesn’t change the fact that the Fantastic Merlins make improvised music with the spirit that’s the impetus behind the best jazz. They might not have chord progressions, they may not “blow” the way that Charlie Parker did, but they capture the intensity, freedom and flat-out beauty of some of John Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders and Albert Ayler.
“There are people who are real jazz players,” adds Brian Roessler, “and I’m not one of them. Those guys are amazing and I wish I could do that.” Roessler plays bass for the group alongside drummer Federico Ughi and saxophonist Nathan Hanson. The unique piece is Ferrier-Ultan’s cello, which can blend in either with Hanson’s saxophone, or dip down into Roessler’s territory. “It’s totally crucial,” Roessler says of the cello. “It creates this thing where I do a lot of things that are less like a bass player and more like a string player. And so, there’s a whole other thing happening there and without the cello it just wouldn’t be possible. Like sometimes the way that you can’t distinguish the tones of the cello and the tenor saxophone. I mean, without Jacqueline it wouldn’t be possible.”
Indeed, the cello is what makes the group unique, and their debut live EP—recorded at the Clown Lounge in St. Paul and the Acadia Café in Minnepolis—demonstrates how the cello’s tonality helps blur the line between jazz and something else in the group’s sound. “It’s doing something different with free improvisation than is typically done,” explains Roessler. “It can be really hard to do free improvisation that has a really really positive, non-aggressive feeling to it, and I think that’s one thing that we strive for. Not that we don’t ever do that, but I think that’s a priority: we want it to be beautiful, we want it to be accessible.”
The group’s approach is to take a composition like Hanson’s “Lenny” and build out from its melodic and harmonic core. If you’re down with such terminology, it’s modal improvisation reminiscent of tenor saxophonist Pharoah Sanders’ The Creator has a Master Plan. “There’s never anything like ‘Cello Solo’ or ‘Saxophone Solo,’” says Roessler, and Ferrier-Ultan interjects, “No ‘we’re gonna do this here, we’re gonna do that there.’ It’s just: ‘You start the song.’ It’s very organic. It’s just listening to each other and having a conversation.” Conversation is really what it sounds like, when you listen with an ear for it. The aforementioned “Lenny” begins with a repeating riff from Hanson, and as the group falls in, the cello forms a counterpoint “om” before falling into off-beat echoes. The drums nudge it forward, the bass sometimes doubling the melody, sometimes expanding the harmony. On “Line” the group begins more amorphously, finding each other in the harmonic space before pulling together into an ascending chorus. The songs don’t crest and fall in the manner of traditional improvised music that’s built towards crescendoing virtuosity, but instead ride swells up and down, finding commonality and expanding the core of each tune. Via e-mail, Hanson adds, “The music this group makes goes in a variety of directions. We each bring different disciplines and experiences in a pretty big variety of genres. I’m most engaged by music that communicates something about the quality of being alive. So that’s what I’m setting out to do. I hope our music can be enjoyed by anyone who listens. Whether they are jazz fans, or rock fans, or whatever.”
So where a group like Happy Apple might sound like free jazz, but are actually playing carefully structured music that’s very much in time, the Fantastic Merlins play more open-ended music that sounds more structured. As it turns out, that kind of freedom is practically a necessity since Hanson and Ughi both call New York City home and the band rarely gets to rehearse. After Ughi joined the group last March, in the space of a week they played the two shows the live EP is culled from and recorded their upcoming CD Look Around at the Terrarium with Jason Orris. Alex Oana has just finished mixing it in Los Angeles. “The beauty of it is that we come together so easily, musically and personally,” says Ferrier-Ultan. “Initially we wanted to play together every week, you know rehearse every week, but when we get together it’s so easy.”
“And it’s for intensive periods,” elaborates Roessler. “It’s hard to plan stuff with people spread out so far, you know; it’s a lot of e-mailing and phone-calling.” Nonetheless, they’ve put together a short tour which will take them around the Midwest and Northeast and they hope to eventually make it across the big pond. “Federico has his own group that he brings to Europe pretty much every year so we’re kind of hoping we can make that happen.,” explains Roessler. The group also has some designs on festivals here in the states where other adventurous yet accessible improvisatory groups have done a brisk trade.
Roessler continues, “I think there are a lot of festivals in the states that’d be great for us to play, you know the jam band sort of festivals would be potentially really interesting places to play. The thing about those people who are into the jamband scene is that, unlike almost any other crowd, this is one of the most rabid music-fan crowds. They are so into the music, they’re so wide open. They’ll listen to things ranging from some bluegrass band to Medeski, Martin & Wood. There’s no group of music fans that have that wide a taste, so I think it’s a really amazing thing.”
So they eschew the standards repetoire of trad jazz, but have they ever considered something like the Bad Plus’ approach to covering pop favorites? “I love what the Bad Plus does; I think they’re incredible,” says Ferrier-Ultan. “They’re one of my favorite bands that I’ve heard in a long time. And I think what they do is so smart and grabs you in a great way. So I guess I’m all for it if it works, if it’s sincere, if it’s coming from a place where you’re really expressing something. If it’s trying too hard to be something, if it can be perceived as trying too hard or pretentious, I guess I don’t.” Reinforcing this utilitarian/experimental viewpoint that seems to underlie the band’s aesthetic, Roessler jumps in, saying, “If we would do anything like that, well, I have no idea. Come see us next week.” ||
“It’s interesting to me that you’re calling it jazz because I have some sort of freaky time with that word just because it’s this feeling of being pigeonholed,” says Jacqueline Ferrier-Ultan. “Because to me I don’t hear it as jazz: I hear it as chamber music, I hear it as choral or gospel music. It’s this really organic thing within itself that has its own life.” And I grudgingly have to admit she’s right, but it doesn’t change the fact that the Fantastic Merlins make improvised music with the spirit that’s the impetus behind the best jazz. They might not have chord progressions, they may not “blow” the way that Charlie Parker did, but they capture the intensity, freedom and flat-out beauty of some of John Coltrane, Pharoah Sanders and Albert Ayler.
“There are people who are real jazz players,” adds Brian Roessler, “and I’m not one of them. Those guys are amazing and I wish I could do that.” Roessler plays bass for the group alongside drummer Federico Ughi and saxophonist Nathan Hanson. The unique piece is Ferrier-Ultan’s cello, which can blend in either with Hanson’s saxophone, or dip down into Roessler’s territory. “It’s totally crucial,” Roessler says of the cello. “It creates this thing where I do a lot of things that are less like a bass player and more like a string player. And so, there’s a whole other thing happening there and without the cello it just wouldn’t be possible. Like sometimes the way that you can’t distinguish the tones of the cello and the tenor saxophone. I mean, without Jacqueline it wouldn’t be possible.”
Indeed, the cello is what makes the group unique, and their debut live EP—recorded at the Clown Lounge in St. Paul and the Acadia Café in Minnepolis—demonstrates how the cello’s tonality helps blur the line between jazz and something else in the group’s sound. “It’s doing something different with free improvisation than is typically done,” explains Roessler. “It can be really hard to do free improvisation that has a really really positive, non-aggressive feeling to it, and I think that’s one thing that we strive for. Not that we don’t ever do that, but I think that’s a priority: we want it to be beautiful, we want it to be accessible.”
The group’s approach is to take a composition like Hanson’s “Lenny” and build out from its melodic and harmonic core. If you’re down with such terminology, it’s modal improvisation reminiscent of tenor saxophonist Pharoah Sanders’ The Creator has a Master Plan. “There’s never anything like ‘Cello Solo’ or ‘Saxophone Solo,’” says Roessler, and Ferrier-Ultan interjects, “No ‘we’re gonna do this here, we’re gonna do that there.’ It’s just: ‘You start the song.’ It’s very organic. It’s just listening to each other and having a conversation.” Conversation is really what it sounds like, when you listen with an ear for it. The aforementioned “Lenny” begins with a repeating riff from Hanson, and as the group falls in, the cello forms a counterpoint “om” before falling into off-beat echoes. The drums nudge it forward, the bass sometimes doubling the melody, sometimes expanding the harmony. On “Line” the group begins more amorphously, finding each other in the harmonic space before pulling together into an ascending chorus. The songs don’t crest and fall in the manner of traditional improvised music that’s built towards crescendoing virtuosity, but instead ride swells up and down, finding commonality and expanding the core of each tune. Via e-mail, Hanson adds, “The music this group makes goes in a variety of directions. We each bring different disciplines and experiences in a pretty big variety of genres. I’m most engaged by music that communicates something about the quality of being alive. So that’s what I’m setting out to do. I hope our music can be enjoyed by anyone who listens. Whether they are jazz fans, or rock fans, or whatever.”
So where a group like Happy Apple might sound like free jazz, but are actually playing carefully structured music that’s very much in time, the Fantastic Merlins play more open-ended music that sounds more structured. As it turns out, that kind of freedom is practically a necessity since Hanson and Ughi both call New York City home and the band rarely gets to rehearse. After Ughi joined the group last March, in the space of a week they played the two shows the live EP is culled from and recorded their upcoming CD Look Around at the Terrarium with Jason Orris. Alex Oana has just finished mixing it in Los Angeles. “The beauty of it is that we come together so easily, musically and personally,” says Ferrier-Ultan. “Initially we wanted to play together every week, you know rehearse every week, but when we get together it’s so easy.”
“And it’s for intensive periods,” elaborates Roessler. “It’s hard to plan stuff with people spread out so far, you know; it’s a lot of e-mailing and phone-calling.” Nonetheless, they’ve put together a short tour which will take them around the Midwest and Northeast and they hope to eventually make it across the big pond. “Federico has his own group that he brings to Europe pretty much every year so we’re kind of hoping we can make that happen.,” explains Roessler. The group also has some designs on festivals here in the states where other adventurous yet accessible improvisatory groups have done a brisk trade.
Roessler continues, “I think there are a lot of festivals in the states that’d be great for us to play, you know the jam band sort of festivals would be potentially really interesting places to play. The thing about those people who are into the jamband scene is that, unlike almost any other crowd, this is one of the most rabid music-fan crowds. They are so into the music, they’re so wide open. They’ll listen to things ranging from some bluegrass band to Medeski, Martin & Wood. There’s no group of music fans that have that wide a taste, so I think it’s a really amazing thing.”
So they eschew the standards repetoire of trad jazz, but have they ever considered something like the Bad Plus’ approach to covering pop favorites? “I love what the Bad Plus does; I think they’re incredible,” says Ferrier-Ultan. “They’re one of my favorite bands that I’ve heard in a long time. And I think what they do is so smart and grabs you in a great way. So I guess I’m all for it if it works, if it’s sincere, if it’s coming from a place where you’re really expressing something. If it’s trying too hard to be something, if it can be perceived as trying too hard or pretentious, I guess I don’t.” Reinforcing this utilitarian/experimental viewpoint that seems to underlie the band’s aesthetic, Roessler jumps in, saying, “If we would do anything like that, well, I have no idea. Come see us next week.” ||