This review was contributed by Alistair Brown.
Very occasionally, those lucky enough to be wandering around the secret corners of some large summer festival will come across the kind of impromptu session where two musicians, apparently separated at birth, have discovered each other. Absorbed in the music, oblivious to bystanders, the one anticipates the other’s every pause, every shift in phrasing. One can only wonder where such empathy develops. Such is the case with the Brisbane duo Jevan Cole and Jan Van Dijk.
Tunes of Curly Nature is an apt description for the unpredictably wiggly compositions on this CD. Most of the tunes are by the musicians, with one or two incomers and the occasional “trad/arr” which fits the criterion. The tunes, timing and phrasing are for the most part complex, and their execution is impeccable. Van Dijk’s fluid and haunting fiddle is all over the music, dancing all around the melody and across the rhythm, and Cole’s fingerstyle guitar, admirably restrained, never missing a semiquaver, underscores and emphasises dead on cue.
For all this, Tunes of Curly Nature is a quiet, studious and level album. Despite the complexity, the execution is almost languid in feel. From beginning to end the whole production moves along at the same studied and introspective pace — there is little variation in mood or energy.
Inspiration for the compositions comes from all over the place: music of Brittany and the Balkans, English hornpipes, lute music of the 15th century, even a tune influenced by “a Southern American country picker stuck in a room with a mad Swedish fiddler.” There is a professed interest in “addictive time signatures.” Despite the variety of influences, what the tunes on this album all have in common is their complexity, and yet by the end, despite admiration for all the skill, effort and creativity, one is left with a niggling feeling of dissatisfaction. This is an album based on an approach, a style, a notion. The whole presentation seems rather clinical. There is a sneaking suspicion that this production could be viewed as an exercise in cleverness, the listener being somehow irrelevant. While the album certainly features some jaw-dropping virtuosity, by the mid-point of the recording, I felt that I had got the point and found myself fancying a walk about the garden.
A friend who composes dances talks about the need to mix the really clever, intricate moves with some more straightforward figures, the better to highlight them. That is what I feel about this CD; it operates on the same level from the first track to the final one. A little more light and shade would help. Here we have two wonderfully talented instrumentalists who compose and play delightfully intricate and creative tunes, working together in an admirably empathetic way. One shouldn’t be losing interest halfway through.
(Treeskin, 2003)
