Trumpeter Amir ElSaffar’s father immigrated to the United States from Iraq. His mother was American. Because of that biography—and because ElSaffar grew up to be an expert in Middle Eastern modes as well as jazz improvisation—he has been the subject of a lot of talk about cross-cultural practices. In the liner notes for his ambitious new double album, he seems over it. Of his new orchestra group, he writes: “Rivers of Sound is not concerned with ‘bridging’ divergent cultures. In each composition, one can hear elements of maqam, polyphony, polyrhythmic structures, melisma, and groove. But these do not exist as separate entities ‘belonging’ to any people or place.”
In other words: sure, there’s a lot of material that goes into music like this. You’re not likely to have heard a jazz keyboardist playing a microtonally-tuned piano while riffing alongside a powerful rhythm section, a cellist, a vibraphonist, and musicians specializing in instruments like the buzuq (a lute-like instrument) or the santur (a hammered dulcimer instrument that ElSaffar sometimes plays). But focusing too much on individual ingredients isn’t the right approach.
ElSaffar is after balance, wholeness, a trance-like state of ecstasy. Throughout Not Two, the careful, even self-effacing manner in which ElSaffar guides his large ensemble manages to underline the benefits of this philosophical approach. The Rivers of Sound orchestra that plays ElSaffar’s compositions boasts some of contemporary jazz’s most prominent and powerful soloists: players like pianist Craig Taborn and guitarist Miles Okazaki. While there are select moments when individuals command center stage, the music never seems overly taken with a hero-soloist format.
Some of the best parts are dialogues, as at the tail end of the 12-minute composition “Ya Ibni, Ya Ibni (My son, my son).” After Taborn has contributed a short solo on an altered piano—required by this particular maqam’s scale—the sound of Jason Adasiewicz’s vibraphone joins the space. The latter’s resonant instrument creates strange but compelling harmonies alongside the microtonally-tuned piano. Next, percussion and guitar join, establishing a final groove. It’s a unique sound, and easy to dream along with.
The album is full of dramatic changes that sneak up in unassuming ways. Opener “Iftitah” begins with string instrument lines that create an ambient spell. The introduction of brass and reed instruments in the third minute could easily break the mood—but the ensemble’s control of dynamic levels makes the progression sound appropriately grand, all without seeming aggressive in nature.
There’s a stirring lute-instrument solo during “Jourjina Over Three,” but the group sounds most energized during a sprinting finish that manages to incorporate some free-improv style playing. The second disc’s opening tune, “Layl (Night),” introduces ElSaffar’s own vocals. The singer’s entrance comes after a long-lined theme that has been slowly, steadily building in intensity. The arrival of the vocal melody is the climax of the same community vibe that the other members of ElSaffar’s orchestra have been working to establish.
The smoothness of all those transitions means that one of the most complex pieces on the album—the 16-minute, suite-like composition “Shards of Memory/B Half Flat Fantasy”—moves through its changes in a comparatively harried manner. Every twist in the music is exciting, and the performances sound great. But it’s possible to imagine ElSaffar stretching the same melodic material out to symphonic length, and getting that much more out of all his ingenious sonic effects. For now, Not Two works as a towering statement of purpose—wise to many traditions, even while it remains accessible to anyone.
