Jasmine Myra @ The Glasshouse, Gateshead - Nov. 4

© Dave Sayer

Jasmine Myra (alto sax); Jasper Green (piano); Ben Haskins (guitar); Sam Quintana (bass); Alice Roberts (harp); Rianna Henriques (tenor sax, flute); Joel Stedman (flutes) George Hall (drums)

Some people round here have mithered on about the paucity of jazz at The Glasshouse in recent years, yet here we are for number one of two on consecutive days, both in the small Hall. Fergus McCreadie tomorrow, Jasmine Myra tonight.  Myra’s music has been described as having a spiritual element to it and, indeed, blessed are they who find themselves in Sage 2 tonight for they are spared the horror of Queen Orchestral which is befouling the air of the big hall next door. It will take some cleaning to get rid of the stench of Fat Bottomed Girls.

Back in Sage 2 we open with Reflection, a wide-ranging ‘reflective’ piece which builds as congeries of delicate notes on guitar, harp and piano infringe on space that is slowly and steadily filled as the piece evolves and the waves of music fall and flow with greater force; English Country pastoral. A lovely sound. Echo has marginally more urgency and a fuller sound as Henriques’ tenor and Myra’s alto intricately interweave in duet. Reverie opens with pointillist harp notes and bass and guitar attach themselves, piano is folded into the blend. Myra’s solo develops themes, lifted onwards by the guitar’s delicate, dancing run of notes. Two flutes and the alto together provide a fuller, richer sound.

It should sound restrained and confined, but it isn’t. Myra arranges textures and layers within her music, working with group dynamics to create shadow and light, using quiet loud dichotomies to create dynamic tension and release. When she talks about the tunes much of what she says goes back to nature and human nature, whether directly inspired or suggested by others’ interpretation of its effect on them. It feels, at times, very simple human music, designed to carry you along, though there are rare moments where the musicians seem to really let go and that may be inspired by the sight of the finishing line as this is the last gig on the tour.

Stillwaters was suggested by post pandemic thoughts on confidence and introvert/extrovert considerations. Opening with a dawn chorus of flutes moving into a lush, uplifting, spiralling melody of repeated motifs building towards a positive resolution in mood that breaks down and challenges the players to go higher and further. A darker side develops with more momentum and the drummer replaces brushes with sticks. It’s a bit more of a rampage with Myra’s driving solo leading from the front.

Fragments (“more cinematic,” she says) opens with harp and guitar notes that drip like melting ice, over a drone from the bowed bass. Both a march and a dance, we’re back in the realm of wide-open spaces with weight and gravitas, plus a couple of bomb drops from the bass. Set 1 closes with Some Rain Must Fall and its delicate, light-stepping opening that builds to a full voiced octet that rises and falls again. Mellow, it eases away until the tenor pulls the others along behind a full phat chorus.

© Dave Sayer

The second set opens with Boundless is the Sea with more delicacy from bass and harp and, with soft hands on the keys, rippling piano runs. It grows at a glacial pace adding instruments like sedimentary accretions, (those layers again). Myra has, it must be said, a lovely sound on alto. Tide Turn has an insistent piano/bass motif as sax and flutes lead over rolling drums. Green’s piano solo is a fragile, wandering excursion that becomes more assertive before Stedman’s stately flute solo hints at middle-eastern themes and flights of freedom; drums and piano provide some forceful backing. Lightness and Shadow feels stitched together, built on bass and harp and waves of cymbal. Tenor and alto push the momentum which stalls and falls away and there is frustration in that second when it feels that the opportunity for escape has been lost but the tension is released as the band come back and the piece romps away to a tenor solo that carries echoes of a ‘lark ascending’. The “more cinematic,” (she says) In An Instant follows as a feature for flows and waves of notes and single sharp moments from Roberts’ harp and a lovely right hand, hopeful, piano solo; Myra’s solo is dense with short phrases, flurries and longer notes as she flies upwards.

The official closer is the title track from the new album, Where Light Settles, and opens with skittering harp over piano and Myra’s ghostly, ethereal alto before piano adds filigrees and an anchoring bass note. As the piece builds and the full band add layers (again) Myra bops, sways and shimmies around her corner of the stage, as she has done all night, clearly delighted with what she has created. Her long, fluid solo is wrapped up in the band and a final flourish from the flutes closes us out. Introductions and ‘time for one more’ bring us the heavyweight prog romp of Glimmers with an unleashed guitar, heavy drums and a final sax/flute duet.

Much of the pastoral, delicate elements have brought thoughts of Kenny Wheeler’s ECM work or Charlie Haden’s duets albums in their delicacy and use of space. Myra’s arrangements do use the dynamics of quiet/loud and space/no space very well boldly creating drama, at times, and quieter moments for contemplation, at others. I suspect that the albums may be a little subdued and ‘dinner party music’ for my taste but live it feels very human music. Dave Sayer