Mary Halvorson – Cloudward Review

Jazz rumbles from the prolific Mary Halvorson feel like an experience worth having. Album after album of avant-garde material, plenty to dive into. Start here, their most recent effort at time of writing but given how fast Halvorson has been to release striking new material in the past, Cloudward could be three albums ago by the time this piece is published. What remains is the striking instrumental hold Halvorson has in these displays of chamber-like concoctions, benefitting well from their initially classical flourishes. These soon turn into a ranged experience of wilder notions and tones which do not, on paper, sit well with jazz approaches. But Halvorson has made room for them and it is a great experience. Where many will try and spin the genre in invigorating ways, detaching themselves for what makes the genre so long-lasting, Halvorson initially commits herself to the joys of rediscovering classic sound.  

They do evolve from there, of course. It would be futile to repeat the steps of those before Halvorson came along – and those bountiful flourishes can be heard from the brass sections of The Gate and beyond. Relax into the standards of The Gate and be thrown from your seat with The Tower. There is an almost naturalistic feel to this song, a softer approach, stripped-back to the barebones, in the face of an avant-garde experience so often reliant on crashing instrumentals. Halvorson is keen to give silence and speculation a chance, it makes this work all the better. There is a lushness to all this, Jacob Garchik and Adam O’Farrill on trombone and trumpet respectively are a massive part of why this feeling is maintained through Unscrolling. It is this which forms the base of tremendous, often thought-provoking music for these Halvorson arrangements. 

From the scrapes of sincerity heard in the strings of Unscrolling to the gothic pangs of Desiderata, there is a poised and overarching brilliance to these arrangements. Not always fully realised but moved along enough in these performances to make a difference. Halvorson hammers away at her guitar here and gives Cloudward the out-there edge it so often seeks. That is the spectacle so often reached for, and the alternate is clanging, winding moments of musical interval. Incarnadine feels like this most of all, a thumping piece of work which toys with the quieter style of avant-garde but fails to capture the specific heart and soulful flavour of previous efforts on Cloudward. And yet the approach and message continue. 

Tailhead and album closer Ultramarine dip into those standard fulfilments, expanding on what can be done with brass and bass. A quality effort from Halvorson, one of many and as good a place to start as any. Listen in well but do not pick at the strings which hold it together, the loose ends are left there for a reason. This is a free-flowing, well-moved experience of jazz at its avant-garde best, with plenty to enjoy about the playful and often complex solo works within. The brass pieces on Tailhead are remarkable. So too is Cloudward, a very interesting and often delicate, challenging piece of work from a resounding improvisational musician with a desire to explore those less-walked paths. Cloudward has plenty of unique sound to it, and picking those brilliant bits from an often stripped-back album is all part of its booming charm.