Review: Tord Gustavsen, St George’s

Something good has happened to Tord Gustavsen. It shines out of his latest project, based around new ECM album What Was Said, and it was immediately apparent as his trio with drummer Jarle Vespestad and singer Simin Tander walked out on stage. This was the third visit to St George’s by the Norwegian jazz pianist and previous outings had all the hallmarks of Scandinavian contemporary jazz – not least the monochrome dress sense and impassive faces befitting serious music. Gustavsen’s music has always been deeply rooted in the stern Lutheran Christianity of his up bringing, taking their hymn tunes as his source material for dour and reflective improvisations and performances have had an especially sombre feel in St George’s church architecture.

And now here was Simin Tander, smilingly resplendent in a slinky red dress, looking for all the world like a cocktail jazz diva and you could almost have heard a disapproving bristle run through the crowd. The breathy restraint of her vocals on the first song – a Lutheran hymn rendered into Pashto, the Afghan language of her forefathers – might have beguiled some of those tongue clickers but the funky Prince-like riff of Journey of Life which followed opened up a more jazzy vocal style coupled with sinuous movements that brought a grin from the pianist. He knew this was a challenge to the audience and he seemed glad of it, talking of liberating these songs that had been with him all his life ‘from their Lutheran prison’. And his, perhaps?

The music had lost none of its clarity, however, and the contribution of minimalist drummer Vespestad was immense, albeit expressed through tininess and economy. He could wait for minutes before joining a piece, his almost imperceptibly tip-tapping movements needing amplification to catch them. His eventual solo at the end of the first set had the audience straining to catch the intricacies of little sounds – a rare thing in most drummers’ performances. His repertoire was enhanced by ‘the fourth member of the trio’ sound designer Daniel Wold whose equally subtle electronic contributions wove nicely alongside those of Gustavsen’s small battery of devices around his grand piano. That was a new element for what has always been purely acoustic music before, and it’s judiciousness made it effective and contributed to an emerging sense of warmth. As ever the piano music itself was captivating, both for its elegant economy of form and the simmering lyricism bubbling to the surface.

Anyone unfamiliar with Gustavsen would have rightly thought that this was Simin Tander’s show, and the music made it so. However the fascinating range and style of her vocalising claimed it as well, including sweetly fluid Arabism, prowling growling, limpid neo-classical delivery and simple exhalations that were somehow highly expressive. Already big in Europe, the young Afghan-German singer deserves to make a name here with this music.

Anyone familiar with Gustavsen, however, would surely acknowledge a real shift in his personality, musically and otherwise, and the clues ran through lyrics like “I have closed my eyes on the past” and “Imagine the fog disappearing” right up to the last encore, a cabaret schmooze called Love Comes Sailing Through. Along with the wider reach of this project it all seemed to suggest a happier and freer man than the previous buttoned down chapel-goer from the fjords. Some in the audience seemed to regret the change but with his music remaining both distinctive and beautiful it seemed churlish for anyone to begrudge him this mid-life epiphany.