Greg Chudzik: Solo Works, Vol. 2

Readers might recognize bassist Greg Chudzik from his playing on Steve Reich’s Pulse / Quartet on Nonesuch Records, Steve Colman’s Morphogenesis from a few years back, or from The National’s High Violet. But if you were a listener to my former radio show you would have heard nearly the entirety of his Solo Works, Vol. 1 from 2015. Chudzik has followed up that superb set of pieces for solo electric bass with Solo Works, Vol. 2, a collection of four extended pieces for a quartet of layered acoustic double basses.

The bassist’s wide-ranging workload as a player is reflected in Chudzik’s impressively diverse compositional approaches on SWV2: Wind Hymnal is a sullen and folksy, almost Asian-tinged number while The What is a catchy, dare I say poppy, hit in 7; Y’Chi is a slowly-evolving spectral monolith while Automated Ocean is a midi-enhanced/effected and rhythmically dense piece of contemporary composition. In the wrong hands, this type of multiplicity could come across as overly ambitious or even jumbled, but Chudzik’s exceptional compositional voice is more than strong enough to unify this set in considerably rewarding ways. It is certainly worth noting that Chudzik’s traditional and extended bowing technique is masterful and adds another layer of excellence to what is already compelling material.

The album ends on a fittingly rhapsodic and triumphant note, leaving the listener with chills of optimism, not an easy task in 2019. The first two doses of Chudzik solo works have me hooked and in a state of already very much jonesing for Vol 3!

-Kevin Coultas, 3.10.19, In On the Corner

Many is the time I have watched Chudzik and his double-bass on stage with the Talea Ensemble, each time becoming more impressed by his rock-solid musicianship and his deep engagement with the works being played. But that is only a tiny slice of his interests and his accomplishments, as demonstrated by this second volume of solo work, four pieces for bass, sometimes with electronics, that show a great deal of imagination and invention. And not just in the way he structures his compositions but also in the broad perspective he has toward the sonic possibilities of his instrument. I hope other composers hear this and grow the repertoire further.

-Jeremy Shatan, 4.1.19, AnEarful

On this fifty-two-minute sequel to 2015's inaugural solo works volume, Greg Chudzik fashions four pieces using layered double basses and in so doing parts company from the preceding set's electric bass focus. What might at first appear to signify a concentration on the resourcefulness and richness of acoustic timbres is, however, altered by the usage of electronics and effects. Consequently, these four pieces sometimes end up resembling ensemble works than solo settings when built into dynamic, rhythmically forceful performances. As one might expect, bass lines act as animating elements in pieces that receive an added boost from the live feel, the impression created of an advanced musician thinking on his feet and spontaneously reacting to musical developments as they happen. Among other things, Chudzik's considerable acumen as a player and assured handler of extended techniques is consistently evidenced.

He certainly brings a wealth of experience to the project and is in no way cowed by the prospect of executing everything solo. He's associated with numerous outfits, among them Signal Ensemble, Empyrean Atlas, Wet Ink Ensemble, Bing and Ruth, and Talea Ensemble, and has worked with figures as diverse as Steve Coleman (on Morphogenesis and Synovial Joints), Steve Reich (Pulse / Quartet), Brian Ferneyhough, Pierre Boulez, and Tristan Perich. Being comfortable operating in contemporary classical, jazz, and experimental contexts serves him well in tackling the varied challenges a solo project such as this entails.

If the opening Wind Hymnal exudes a rather plaintive air, it's likely attributable in part to it having been written in the wake of Hurricane Sandy in 2012. With great care, Chudzik assembles bowed figures into a hypnotic, see-sawing structure that eventually separates into a rhythmic foundation and soloistic gestures. The fourteen-minute running-time allows the material to progress unhurriedly through its many sections, the moods changing from ponderous to turbulent as it advances. Chudzik brings organizing shape to the composition by restating the mournful opening passage before venturing into another exploration, the shifts in direction suggestive of the violent ruptures a natural disaster can impose so suddenly. He also shows himself to be a deft handler of transitions, with a somewhat Reich-ian episode segueing smoothly into the quiet resolution at track's end. The What changes things up dramatically with a high-spirited homage to David Eggers' novel What is the What, in this case the bassist fashioning an interlocking 7/8 rhythm whose driving ostinato pulse feels as indebted to rock'n'roll as Africa. Coupling pizzicato and arco playing does much to hold the listener's attention, as does backing bowed lines with a funky slap bass groove.

At eighteen minutes the longest of the four pieces, Y'Chi shifts the focus to sustained masses, the bowed rumbling generated by the double bass at the outset suggesting something like deep-level whale vocalizations captured by recording equipment, albeit foggily, at the water's surface. With the masses unfurling slowly, the material alternately begins to evoke the slow-motion undulations of a massive sea vessel; eventually, high harmonics and interlacing solo expressions introduce a melodic, at times supplicating dimension to the soundscape-styled aspects of the design. Automated Ocean strays more than the others from the instrument's natural acoustic timbres through its generous integration of electronic treatments into the sound design, Chudzik here using MIDI data to accompany the bass via auto-tune. Though fluttering, synth-like effects sparkle through the opening minutes, the presentation isn't wholly given over to electronics when Chudzik balances it with bowed lines that maintain a connecting thread to the preceding pieces. An unexpected development arises midway through when off-kilter hocketing figures announce a further shift in the presentation, the moment lasting briefly before a plunge into a convulsively flickering sequence and finally a neon-lit, minimalism-inflected coda.

There's much to recommend the recording, from the imagination displayed by Chudzik in his constantly altering of the presentation to the deliberate contrasts in tone and style of the four settings. The listener's attention never flags when the material and the bassist's execution of it are engaging and delivered with conviction, and, as one might expect, the single-instrument focus also allows for a full appreciation of Chudzik's considerable command of the double bass and his maximization of its expressive potential.

-Ron Schepper, 4.27.19, Textura