The Jac + Stroma: a wide-ranging musical conversation
Concert review by guest writer Elliot Vaughan
The musicians of The Jac (left) and Stroma
Photo credit: Michael Norris
A gathering. A coming together of two first-rate ensembles from two musical disciplines. Two ways of approaching and structuring composition, two different performance practices, two sets of creative expertise.
The contemporary classical group Stroma, now in their 25th year, draws mainly on NZSO instrumentalists. They are technically exacting, play with precision and consistency, expert in translating a composer’s detailed scribblings to music.
The Jac, eight musicians from Pōneke’s lively jazz scene, has expertise that lives in improvisation, groove, and sophisticated modern jazz composition.
A Gathering opens with Cerulean Haze by Jasmine Lovell-Smith, commissioned in 2018 when the two groups first collaborated. Muggy, sustained chords expand then part, making way for a lazy groove and a sultry cello tune. The texture gradually thickens, roiling melodies coalesce and then part again for Callum Allardice’s throaty guitar. A brighter groove wells up, becoming more active for a cranky double saxophone solo. The music crawls higher in pitch, energy, and volume, climaxing at a moment of unison before dismantling, every player for themself, leaving only Daniel Hayles’s crisp piano solo and Nick Tipping’s muscular bass riff, which eventually simply stops. Lovell-Smith’s patience and command of dynamics and texture make this a compelling opener.
Anthony Braxton’s Composition 142 follows (arr. Michael Norris). The music starts off highly organised, with a digital approach: on or off; loud or silent; precise unison or independent improvisation. These rules relax into more in-between textures for the second half. The form is striking and the material is baffling—an absorbing state.
Next, two world premieres. The first is in opera this’d be an overture but it’s not so it isn’t, commissioned by Stroma from London-based New Zealand composer and bassist Lucy Mulgan. It’s a work of fragments, seeding hypothetical music from the opera that doesn’t follow.
Mulgan’s piece starts with a snazzy swing, interrupted quickly, and interrupted again, like the twiddling of the radio dial. It’s a neat way to hit swing tropes without rehashing the genre. The middle section is improvised, pairing off classical and jazz players. It’s a cocktail party—we overhear a snippet of conversation here, a snippet there. Suddenly we’re in tempo again, with a texture of trills and melodies. The end recalls the play–pause–play of the beginning. It doesn’t completely hang together as a piece, but it is a romp.
Justin ‘Firefly’ Clarke is a virtuoso guitarist who acknowledges no genre boundaries. He joins the groups on stage for his freshly-minted The Curious Flight of the Fledgling Chalkydri. (A Chalkydri is a 12-winged parabiblical serpent-headed sun beast.) The piece starts with the creature hatching from the egg, a figure of repeated notes, which grows into a turbid rhythmic assault by the end, depicting the Chalkydri circling the sun. The centrepiece is a guitar solo from Firefly, a spectacular burst of searing scales leading to an ecstatic repeating note. It’s a raw, direct composition and a fervent performance.
Guitarist and composer Justin ‘Firefly’ Clarke (left) features with guitarist Callum Allardice for the world premiere of his work, The Curious Flight of the Fledgling Chalkydri.
Image credit: Chris Watson/SOUNZ
The excerpt from Anna Webber’s Idiom VI is arresting. It begins with Jake Baxendale (alto saxophone) and Bridget Douglas (bass flute) trading multiphonics across the stage creating a careful, spare sound world where every nuance is important. Too soon this moves into angular rhythmic material, contrasting the warmth and physicality of the jazz rhythm section with the scritching of scratch tone in the strings. The piece takes off from here, hurtling along a deserted highway at night.
Guest artist Barbara Paterson steps up to the mic for Laurie Anderson’s landmark From the Air (arr. Norris). Over a relentless single-bar loop, Paterson is excellent—a friendly but officious caveman captain talking us through a plane crash. The wonderfully absurd piece expresses a broader philosophical disconnect, coolly repeating “this is the time/ and this is the record of the time.”
Vocalist Barbara Paterson is “a friendly but officious caveman captain” in Laurie Anderson’s landmark From the Air, arranged by Stroma Artistic co-director Michael Norris
Image credit: Chris Watson/SOUNZ
Callum Allardice’s A Gathering is a journey. It begins with open, animated chords establishing the landscape before introducing what jazz musicians call the melodic “head”. This gives over to a one-note bass riff, a spell briefly broken with five magnificent descending chords in the horns.
Trombonist Matt Allison wields his solo like a weapon. Drum kit is the best instrument to watch, and Shaun Anderson is riveting in an endlessly-varying groove. Over this, the horn section pulls from a sighing lethargy into a dense web of melodies. It’s a lot of music per square centimetre. The balance throughout this concert has been great, but here the gently-amplified classical instruments are overwhelmed by The Jac. The melodic head returns, emboldened by the thrilling voyage.
The concert closes with Awful Coffee by innovative New York musician and community gatherer Carla Bley, who died in late 2023. This overcaffeinated toe-tapper (arr. Norris) has a series of sizzling solos once again showcasing The Jac horn section. I’m still whistling the tune.
A Gathering: The Jac + Stroma Hamish McKeich (conductor) New Zealand Fringe Festival Wellington 19 February 2025
The musicians of The Jac and Stroma, with conductor Hamish McKeich, receive enthusiastic applause at the end of the concert A Gathering.
Photo credit: Debbie Rawson