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Matthew
Shipp & William Parker
Houston TX, 4 February 2000
by Frank Rubolino
March 2000
 Performing
arts center Diverse Works and radio station KTRU at Rice University
jointly presented pianist Matthew Shipp and bassist William Parker
in concert on the Rice campus. These two instant composers moved
effortlessly through two sets of open-ended improvisation coupled
with totally reshaped compositional material. Shipp can be deceptively
melodic while exploring the far reaches of his piano, and that trait
emerged immediately as he aggressively opened at a brisk pace with
heavy concentration on the lower register. To set the stage, Shipp
used ripples of notes that developed into clusters of broken and
bombastic statements of authority. He accelerated his pace using
an overlapping hand technique to strike randomly at high notes and
then retreat to the bottom keys to sustain a sense of brooding weightiness.
Parker, always the dynamo, matched Shipp's aggressiveness by furiously
exercising the bass strings in thunderous consort with Shipp. His
speed and agility powered the extended opening segment of this set-long
collage of sound.
Without
notice, Shipp converted his attack into serene musings to allow Parker
to be featured, and then they varied the direction by gliding into
a most unusual version of "Autumn Leaves". Done in block structure
with dense tonality, Shipp created a mesmerizing drone around the
very well disguised melody line. He was overly percussive and emphatic
in contrast to the sprightly approach by Parker. This signaled a change
for Parker, who created a symphony of bowed intensity. He delivered
a wild and long-lined arco solo while deftly manipulating the strings
in pizzicato style with his left hand—all based on a very loose
interpretation of the theme line from "Autumn Leaves". The stabbing
blows of Shipp continued to focus on the deeper notes until he segued
into the children's song "Frère Jacques". There was nothing childish,
however, about his thunderous statement of the theme and the wild
variations thereon. This less than lighthearted melody line closed
the first set.
 The second
set followed a similar format. Shipp worked over a given grouping
of notes to drain out every ounce of tonality from his piano while
Parker worked himself into a trance with his resonant musings. Ellington
suddenly became the center of attraction. "Take the A Train" was the
vehicle, and Shipp and Parker were the dual engineers who scurried
over the tracks in runaway fashion, always managing to insert one
or two theme notes to maintain the delicate balance between their
improvisations and the melody. Shipp moved into a motif of repeated
dark phrases while Parker matched the mood with a sweeping arco solo
using a four-note theme produced with long bowed lines. He played
with violin-like virtuosity as the program wound down.
Both men were at the top of their game on this night. They were in
total harmony with each other and displayed an amazing empathy for
the aesthetic direction each took. The well-attended house, having
witnessed a truly artistic success, was struck with a feeling of awe
when the torrent of sound stopped.
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