OJKOS: Alea Iacta Est
Odin Records

Before addressing the content of this forty-minute release, a few clarifications are in order: OJKOS is both an acronym for Orchestra of Jazz Composers in Oslo and an ancient Greek term meaning family or household; “Alea iacta est” (The die is cast) are apparently the words Julius Caesar uttered in 49 BC after crossing the Rubicon with his army, the move ostensibly a declaration of war. These days the expression generally stands for the choice one makes upon reaching a crossroads.

For composer and trombonist Andreas Rotevatn, said crossroads involved the decision in early 2018 to found a jazz orchestra, which in turn led to the recruitment of sixteen musicians and the ensemble's first concert in October of that year. Another crossroads arose in March 2019 when he took upon himself the task of writing a full-length concert's worth of material. Alea Iacta Est resulted, a ten-track programme that in its sequencing and stylistic changes convincingly plays like an OJKOS live set-list. Over the course of the release, one hears Rotevatn drawing from African music, Steve Reich, Gil Evans, and others, all of it served up with robust enthusiasm by the ensemble.

Solos are distributed amongst many group members, with Rotevatn following Ellington's lead and tailoring the material to amplify the talents of specific players. Yet while solo spotlights are present, Alea Iacta Est focuses less on showcasing individuals and more on the group, with Rotevatn's charts ensuring that order is maintained despite the large number of instruments involved—four woodwinds, six horns, two guitars, keyboards, bass, drums, and percussion.

“Innsegling” (Sailing In) opens the album auspiciously with the horns growling and subsequently expanding via echo treatments before advancing into the two-part “Breidablik,” more members now called upon and the OJKOS identity coming into focus. Overlaying an infectiously swinging pulse are vibes, woodwinds, and horns, after which the groove toughens as the track's second half roars into position with hints of Soft Machine-styled prog-rock and a Moog solo by Kristoffer Håvik. By the time the third track's over, the listener will have formed a fairly good impression of what the group's about. A ruminative trumpet spotlight by Lyder Ø. Røed then warms the otherwise chilly meditation “Elegi Karmosin,” the band's trumpeters apparently having been instructed to play “as if you are old Russian women on the cold tundra.”

The mood dramatically shifts with the advent of “It's South African Time” and “It's West African Time,” the former a joyous shuffler whose sunny disposition instantly appeals and the latter weaving into its insistently thrusting groove Reich-inspired minimalism patterns. Minimalism of a different sort informs “Dikt til H” (Poem to H) in undergirding Jakob E. Myhre's trumpet solo and a horn chorale with a shimmering, electronics-styled backdrop.

If “Helter Skelter” isn't quite as aggressive as the Beatles' track, OJKOS's (not a cover, by the way) does nevertheless thread Lennon's “I got blisters on my fingers!” into its experimental design. Voice samples emerge alongside ensemble playing during the collage, including an Auto-tuned mangling of Charles Manson's voice and a news report about the notorious cult leader, who infamously drew on the Beatles song as inspiration for his mayhem. Thankfully, Alea Iacta Est doesn't end with that foray into darkness but rather with the peaceful “Snow in Treschow,” its restful character enhanced by Henriette H. Eilertsen's flute solo.

September 2020