Curt Oren

Is Anyone and The Elder (far right) Explains a Navigation Chart 

curtoren.bandcamp.com

Curt Oren is a saxophonist who plays his own solo compositions. You have to admire him for that even before you hear what he does. Compared to Iowa City’s most prominent saxaphonist, Pete Balestrieri, he’s just a kid. But like Balestrieri, he can command an audience’s attention all on his own.

Oren’s obvious first influence is Colin Stetson, who has been pioneering a solo saxaphone style that combines minimalist repetition with a large palette of ‘experimental’ sounds. I’m not sure Oren’s compositions would exist in the form they would without Stetson. But Oren is more than an acolyte or apprentice. His compositions—if anything—are most influenced by Bach’s works for solo violoncello and violin. He take’s Bach’s trick of using arpeggios as a way to have one voice cover all the parts.

The Elder’s “Potential/Kinetic” is maybe the strongest example of what Oren is up to. Made up almost entirely of trills, the sound of the saxaphone valves becomes percussion, and surprising drama is derived from subtle changes in breath and pressure on the reed. I don’t know to what extent he’s modifying the sax’s natural tone with electronics, but he verges on the fuzzy sound of electric guitar from time to time.

“Kinyesi” picks up a distinctly African flavor, starting with staccato valve percussion, and then transitioning into deep pentatonic riffing that sounds like a single saxaphone isolated from Fela Kute’s band. Throughout all these compositions there’s a restless motion, where harmonic variations play off against the timbral changes. Some tracks, like “Surya Namaskara” recall Philip Glass’ affection for fluttering repetitions that step through different chords, but Oren seems to know when to stop; this sort of thing is a lot easier to take in a concise two minute composition than a five hour opera.

The physicality of Oren’s performance on the saxaphone gives it an athleticism that isn’t always apparent in most music. The fact that he’s gasping for the breath to animate his kinetic sound sculptures makes the listener aware of his own breath as he plays. It’s immediate and intimate, and it makes me hold my breath in anticipation of where Oren is taking me.

Kent Williams eats not thy heart; which forbids to afflict our souls, and waste them with vexatious cares.