Norwegian saxophonist
Jan Garbarek took several intriguing stylistic turns early in his career, none more extreme than that shown on
Triptykon. While he had always shown an affinity for the work of
Albert Ayler and other
free jazz musicians who came of age in the '60s, his prior albums retained a more straight-ahead rhythmic drive and more than a passing nod to
experimental rock and
fusion. Here, he jettisoned guitarist
Terje Rypdal and replaced the sometimes overly delicate percussion work of
Jon Christensen with the more earthy and heavy sounding
Edward Vesala. The result is an expressionist trio drawing on both
free improvisation and
Scandinavian folk tunes, roaring, stumbling, and reeling, evoking an aural equivalent of
Edvard Munch.
Garbarek's work on all his reeds is assured and imaginative, even as the context is often dark and bleak. In particular, his soprano playing -- as on the title track -- is remarkably poignant, and it's not difficult to conjure up images of keening water birds patrolling the sub-Arctic fjords. The closing
folk song,
"Bruremarsj," is a drunkenly striding marvel that
Ayler would've loved.
Witchi-Tai-To,
Garbarek's next album for
ECM, would his aesthetic high point, but
Triptykon isn't very far behind. Highly recommended. ~ Brian Olewnick