Grenseland by Gunhild Seim, Marilyn Crispell, and David Rothenberg (review)

Grenseland is a collaborative recording by David Rothenberg, Marilyn Crispell, and Gunhild Seim. The context is essentially a jazz trio that seamlessly integrates electronics. Each track in Grenseland can be heard as demonstrating a range of improvised and compositional strategies, whereby the performers shape the music through stratified dialogues between one another. These dialogues largely stem from the group’s management of the live, electronic, and conventional instrumental sound sources. The result is a distinctive electroacoustic sound complex.

The trio’s use of digital tools extends to orchestration, compositional decisions, and the structuring of the accompaniment and soloing. For this recording, Rothenberg performs on B-flat and bass clarinets, and Seim performs on trumpet; both perform with a range of electronic embellishments as well. Crispell performs on piano, and, at times, as a vocalist and percussionist.

The group’s orchestration allows for a wider range of musical choices and an enhanced sonic palette. Regarding their use of electronics, Seim tends to apply effects to the trumpet such as granulation, delay, reverb, and filtering in sequence. Rothenberg prefers not to apply effects with the clarinet, performing, instead, with “nature-based electronics.” Rothenberg’s understated approach to performance is one in which he transforms and prepares his sounds in a manner wherein the processing is not obvious to the listener. Seim uses electronics similarly. The performers are never in conflict with each other. This strategy contrasts with, for example, certain types of experimental pop music, where reverb, noise, and distortion are used in large doses. By comparison, Grenseland introduces the listener to a more refined approach to using digital sound.

In Calls, the first track, one hears a call-and-response texture between Rothenberg’s clarinet and Seim’s trumpet. Their counterpoint mirrors and blends with the electronic soundscape heard in the background. Rothenberg’s background music is prerecorded, having been derived from recordings of insects found in natural, wooded environments. As Rothenberg and Seim develop their dialogue further, Crispell enters the texture adding sparse, subtle colors, performing with drumsticks. Her contributions to this track provide expressive continuity by linking together the timbres from both the electronics and conventional instrument parts.

In track 2, Tundra, Crispell’s performance is built upon her use of hand percussion including shakers and cup bells, as well as her deft playing on the inside of the piano. As the track progresses Crispell also adds vocal improvisations, which fit comfortably against the sustained, drone-like sounds in the electronics. The electronics used mimic Crispell’s contributions, and encourage interplay between Seim’s trumpet playing and Rothenberg’s pre-recorded birdsong. Compared with the first track, in Tundra the electronic backdrop is less prevalent. This track demonstrates the essence of the group’s understated approach to soloing, whereby individual performers explore subtle, emergent sonic contrasts.

Fog Song, track 3, opens with a melodic fragment heard in the bass clarinet, juxtaposed with sparse prepared piano sounds. Here, Seim’s trumpet is highly processed with reverb and delay. After this introduction, Rothenberg switches to performing with electronics. Overall, the texture could be described as an electronic fog. We hear a contrast between a dense mass of sound pitted against delicate, quasi-melodic vocal and trumpet fragments. Rothenberg sounds like he is experimenting with loops formed from a range of contrasting repetitive rhythmic patterns and pulses.

In the fourth track, Flame, Crispell begins with short phrases on the piano. Seim joins her with slightly processed melodic material, while Rothenberg accompanies his band-mates with rhythmic and carefully placed electronics.

Track 5, Onyx, opens with a lighthearted, capricious, electronic sound stream, which emerges as a support for Seim’s trumpet playing. Rothenberg combines short rhythmic phrases with low-register tones. Crispell matches Rothenberg but seems to counter Seim with a sparse chordal accompaniment. Rothenberg oscillates between his “soundscape” and noise-based sounds that suggest a change in sonic direction. Ultimately, his contribution guides the listener back to the accompanimental figure heard initially. Around the...