Monheim Triennale festival explodes with experimental excitement on the Rhine

The Monheim Triennale has a very ambitious concept, to invite sixteen artists who are then given free rein to concoct individual ‘signature’ performances, as well as to form an ongoing musical community, encouraging cross-pollination amongst participants. Artistic director Reiner Michalke conceptualised, while the culture-receptive mayor of Monheim, Daniel Zimmermann, facilitated the practical aspects of this elaborate festival scenario.

Sitting right next to the Rhine, the German town of Monheim is situated midway between Cologne and Düsseldorf. The Triennale’s prime venue just happened to be a large boat, modern and well-equipped for entertainment, its main stage alternating with a smaller adjacent platform. The five-day Triennale was initially set for 2021, but virus regulations helped create The Prequel, which provided a useful test-run on a smaller scale. Here in 2022, the fully engorged Triennale made its mark as a complete success.

While not describing itself as a jazz festival, the Triennale nevertheless operated with a significant percentage of artists from our sphere: Greg Fox, Farida Amadou, Stian Westerhus, Ingrid Laubrock, Kris Davis, Ava Mendoza, Shahzad Ismaily, Robert Landfermann and Sofia Jernberg, as well as strongly aligned practitioners Sam Amidon and Colin Stetson. The remaining core artists arrived from the zones of global-traditional, electronic, and modern composition.

The opening night heralded the Triennale with Marcus Schmickler’s elaborate sonic cloaking of the Rhine, his electronics at its heart, with musicians situated all around the riverbank, atop buildings, on boats, and even across on the far bank. There was a pronounced echo of Karlheinz Stockhausen’s massive infestations of public spaces, Schmickler’s piece containing elements of ambient, moderne, opera, plus a bonus battalion of folksy accordionists. It was a complete environmental music triumph. The next day, Schmickler improvised with Thomas Lehn (synthesisers) and Chris Corsano (percussion), revealing a harsher side of dense rumbling, and rupturing detonations.

Farida Amadou is a new presence to most folks outside Belgium, unless we are fans of her old sludge-rock combo Cocaine Piss. Amadou doesn’t play that many gigs in Brussels, but this electric bass specialist promises to make a significant impression in the next year. Amadou improvises freely, moving from percussive lines to sheer noise attack. The most striking of her several settings was in a trio with guitarist Ava Mendoza and drummer Corsano, in the almost-completed Sojus 7 venue.

Robert Landfermann is not so well-known outside of Germany. On the Rheingalaxie boat’s main stage, the bassist and composer performed his ‘Rhenus’ work, for an ensemble of trumpet, soprano saxophone, harp, piano, electronics, and doubled drums. Jozef Dumoulin was the wild card, his keyboards radically cabled with electronic gear, matching the intensity of the metal-scrape percussion harshness. Landfermann shaped a pristine, visceral sound, with crystalline horns, Christian Lillinger casting out small gong-cymbals and striking hand-held wood objects. Dumoulin impersonated a burbling trombone, and British trumpeter Percy Pursglove issued a growling, rasping, then prickly solo, with Kathrin Pechlof’s harp fluttering sympathetically. A gleaming, magical palette contained tiny, aggressive details. Then, Landfermann offered a stuttering, classicist funk, topped by a flighty soprano solo from Sebastian Gille, disrupted by Dumoulin’s sonic rending, and by Pursglove’s death rattle dexterity. This piece was very carefully formed, but not at the expense of bold sonic risk.

The American saxophonist Colin Stetson’s drone ensemble was his signature selection, but a superior set gripped the crowd at Sojus 7, late at night. Stetson’s Ex Eye crew (pictured above) still savour the suspended tone, but they also rip out the rock frenzy, tightly negotiating compositions that exist for the likely chance of dynamic explosion. Norwegian guitarist Stian Westerhus and Scottish bagpiper Brìghde Chaimbeul guested, further varying the extended feedback and drone possibilities. All parts were loud, but the band sound was perfectly sculpted in the mix. Stetson took it to the bass saxophone limit.

There were some present who were not of the actual 16, but should have been. Another major discovery (alongside Amadou) was tenor saxophonist Zoh Amba, currently living in NYC, but hailing originally from down in Tennessee. Her forté is free improvisation, and she appeared in several settings, immediately impressing with innately expressive phrases, sounding as if she’s deliberately exposing herself to the pull of emotional avenues of exploration. Each well-formed unwinding held a sense of immediacy, and a tone rich with sensitive, limb-quiver vibrato. Lately, there’s a small group of saxophonists who are rediscovering this less-used articulation. At the informal Zum Goldenen Hans bar, Amba played a set with electronics specialist Wobbly, who stretched out on the stage-floor, piling up the glitch-wrenching, as the saxophonist swiftly reacted to his spiky alterations.

Amba played another duo, with multi-instrumentalist Shahzad Ismaily (pictured above), on the smaller Boat’s Lounge stage. Albert Ayer is a strong influence on Amba’s seeking cry, as she squealed and honked with highly controlled rapidity. Ismaily’s electric bass took it lowdown, as he bided his time, while the tenor changed from fragile to lusty. Ismaily retracted in volume while Amba exploded, then they both quietened, as she shook her head to discover a new vibrato, the boat subtly rocking on the Rhine-swell. Their second set, the following day, had Amba expanding to piano, sometimes playing with tenor in one hand, Ismaily picking acoustic guitar. Placid searching began, Amba removing her rings and dropping them onto the stage, graduating to flat palms on the keys. Ismalily started drumming, the pair rapidly escalating to a crescendo. These small-stage improvisations worked within a fixed timespan, in between the main-stage signature performances, thereby enjoying an unusual sense of temporal discipline.

Invited by the Irish composer Jennifer Walshe, the Baltimore electronics duo Matmos were a major presence, primarily performing her signature work (although by this time Walshe had disappeared, now lumbered with the virus), but also playing a set with drummer Greg Fox, and holding an inspired panel discussion session that was virtually a stand-up comedy routine. Perhaps Matmos will return for 2023’s sonic architecture edition, as the festival has announced smaller, incremental editions, leading up to the next full Triennale in 2025.