On May 23rd I had a lucky chance to continue with my series to document some of the Swiss jazz scene by visiting a superb performance of the Colin Vallon Trio (Colin Vallon – piano, Patrice Moret – bass and Julian Sartorius – drums) at the fabulously surreal MOKKA Cafe Bar in Thun. Julian, whom I recently photographed in a solo performance at the Tinguely Museum in Basel, had kindly arranged for me to come along, and so I arrived on a beautiful evening at this most interesting venue. They play there every other week and this was their end of season concert. I have gotten to know the trio a few years ago when they introduced their CD Rruga at the Bird’s Eye Jazz Club in Basel. It is a fine record, produced by Manfred Eicher of the prestigous ECM label, and contains some of my favorite titles, e.g. telepathy. Today, they can draw from a repertoire of three ECM CDs plus some older and unreleased pieces.
You’d be surprised what you see when you enter the MOKKA garden, expect weird stuff, unexpected dinosaurs, thought provoking and provocative banners, a man in a mirror, perhaps a band working on their setlist, and so much more.
A glance inside through the door allows a glimpse onto the fascinating stage and auditorium, where instruments are waiting in a creatively illuminated space, surrounded by tons of additional weird objects and collectibles, even a UFO is seen swirling around in what looks like a salvaged monitor of an old spaceship which must have crashed into the Swiss mountains, perhaps ET is not far.
Hence it does not seem too unusual to find the drums a bit later hijacked by the pianist.
But then the concert starts and telepathy is also what seems to characterize the way they play Jazz. Deeply emotional soundscapes transpire, tightly wooven together and not disrupted by any soli. Since a lot has already been written about the trio and what characterizes its music, I won’t elaborate this much. While the piano is clearly the lead voice in this ensemble, both bass and drums are much more than just the backdrop.
Patrice’s bass play is never in the front, but always present, shines through pinholes and underscores a redirection, vibrant but never punchy. Unassuming, a perfect balance of what needs to be there while leaving out potential distractions.
Julian on the other hand is using the full potential of his instruments to get as many different sounds out of them as seems possible, a very sophisticated, intellectual approach, but again not too dominant. A drum is not a drum, but feels like 10 different instruments. And so dozens of sounds are coming out if his corner, sometimes arranged in complex syncoped rhythms but also through influences inspired by naturally occuring sounds, which sometimes feels like wind playing with something or patterns induced by random water drops, perhaps in this location even inspired by the extraterrestial objects flying around in his back or ET glancing over his shoulder. Only once is there a groovy beat and you wonder whether this piece of Jazz will turn into rock music, but the trio won’t let such a cross-over happen.
Finally, Colin, clearly influenced by old masters with excellent technique paired with great, lyrical improvisation skills. His homepage has a nice collection of press reviews with great characterisations of his talent.
The Trio knows each other blindly, hardly any cues are noticable when they pass the ball. And sometimes one is not even sure which instrument generated a particular sound, was it Colin or was it Julian? While the ongoing muscial dialogue is like a private, introspect conversation which you are allowed to listen into, the spectrum ranges from nuanced danses to intense debate and airy voyages with occasional simple repetitive, trance-like elements.
At the same time the emotional aspect of their art is visibly intense. I do not think you could play like this without being all in, you have to live it to make it happen, at every concert.
Their final piece, Sisyphe, from their latest CD Danse ends an evening of immense joy and energy transfer. A subtle but noticably happy „ahh“ from someone in the audience breaks through the silence when they start the piece. The final applause from a stunned, tuned-in audience is forceful and thankful.
Outside, the MOKKA (whos founder unfortunately passed away last Fall) is glowing in the dark of a warm evening and a vintage cruiser passing by temporarily steels my attention away from the reflection of what was just happening inside.
