The Mother of the Book

One of Gil Evans' least-known and most sonorous projects of his prolific old age was this exotic collaboration with fellow Canadian composer/saxophonist Glen Hall which, no thanks to red tape, took nine years to emerge in Germany and then another two years to appear in the U.S. Intrigued by the prospect of working with synthesizers, a small wind brigade, and the avant-garde Canadian percussion troupe NEXUS, Evans created a gentle, vital, yet melancholy Third World landscape out of five Hall compositions while conducting and playing electric piano on the sessions. The flavors originate from places as diverse as Japan, India, Indonesia, the Middle East and the South Side of Chicago, and Evans' distinct sonic signatures — the lightly dissonant voicings for woodwinds, trumpet and synths — turn up more often here than in many of his more free-blowing late projects, evoking the acidly mournful passages of Sketches of Spain. Designed to work as a suite, The Mother of the Book reaches its peak on the final two numbers: "The Folk" with its propulsive, battering, almost gamelan percussion-driven groove, and "Muddy Waters," an impressionistic tour through the old bluesman's territory laced with subtributes to other Chicago bluesicians, earthy tenor work from Hall, and plenty of Gil's voicings for winds and electronics. The marvel, of course, is that Evans' curiosity and ear for unusual sonorities stayed with him to the end, which this CD reveals more tellingly than most. ~ Richard S. Ginell, Rovi