MMO-Ensemble: Any Day Now
Øra Fonogram

Martin Myhre Olsen, the Norwegian saxophonist and leader of the MMO-Ensemble, used the phrase “Taking the Ellington Spirit into the 21st century” as a starting point for his ensemble. And though that's a laudable aspiration, truth be told the playing on Any Day Now, the ensemble's third project, less evokes Ellington than Mingus, given the twelve-member unit's oft-fiery rendering of Olsen's material. No matter: at day's end, the release's seventy-four minutes more reflect his creative sensibility than anyone else's. As Mingus sometimes did, Olsen also enriches his instrumental material by weaving poetry into the mix (both spoken and sung), texts in this case by e.e. cummings, Emily Dickinson, and James Baldwin, whose Joseph Conrad-derived poem from which the album takes its name also provides the titles of the individual tracks.

In the opening “Any Day Now,” the collective wails, the saxes and horns in particular stoking fire in a manner reminiscent of "Broken Shadows" from Ornette's Science Fiction. Siril Malmedal Hauge thereafter delivers Baldwin's text in a slow, theatrical drawl, and the band lunges into an intricate series of unison statements and individual expressions. Following a robust turn by tenor saxist André Roligheten (also credited with baritone sax and bass clarinet), “Why?” appears without pause, its subdued pitch in sharp contrast to the oft-frenetic opener. Sharing vocal duties with Hauge is double bassist Christian Meaas Svendsen, who softly utters text by cummings that she complements with a quietly enchanting, jazz-ballad treatment of Dickinson's “Lost,” the musicians behind her sensitively amplifying the singing during this album highlight. Thereafter, the music methodically advances through intricate episodes alternately tumultuous and tranquil, agitated and controlled, and urgent and relaxed until a reprise of “Any Day Now” brings the work home.

In ensembles of this size, the vocalist can sometimes get lost in the mix, overshadowed by horns, percussion, et al.; in this case, however, Hauge's singing is integral to the presentation, and, in fact, her vocal contributions are among the more memorable aspects of the recording. Olsen himself is on alto and soprano, while, besides those already mentioned, there're horns (trumpeter Erik Kimestad Pedersen, trombonist Øyvind Brække) and strings (violinists Håkon Aase and Adrian Løseth Waade, cellist Kaja Fjellberg Pettersen), plus a guitarist (Karl Bjorå), pianist (Ayumi Tanaka), and drummer (Simon Olderskog Albertsen). Threaded carefully into the compositions are solo spots for Tanaka, Roligheten, Albertsen, Brække, Bjorå, Pettersen, and, of course, Olsen himself, with the music achieving a satisfying balance between formally written parts and improvisation. As much as the music often features the full ensemble playing, there are also passages where a sub-unit's featured; during one particularly dream-like section in “(out) of this...,” for instance, Bjorå's lead playing's accompanied by plucked strings, Albertsen's vibes, and wordless musings by Hauge.

August 2018