English
All About Jazz
28 07 09 10:24
By Chris May
Muse is Yaron Herman's fourth album and with it the Israeli-born/French-based pianist continues his steady progress towards a mature post-Keith Jarrett, post-Brad Mehldau style and the certainty of world ranking. Still in his late twenties, Herman set out his stall with the piano/drums duo album Takes 2 To Know 1 (Sketch, 2005), which was followed by a solo set, Variations (Laborie Records, 2006), and most recently a trio plus electronica album, A Time For Everything (Laborie Records, 2007). The new album, another trio outing, has the same personnel as its predecessor—Herman, bassist Matt Brewer and drummer Gerald Cleaver—but without an electronicist.
On the evidence of Muse, Herman's time can't be long in coming, if indeed it isn't immediately around the very next corner. The influence of Jarrett and Mehldau can still be heard, but is now more diffuse. To it can be added another resonance, Esbjorn Svensson. For along with his intense, emotionally nuanced lyricism, Herman can turn out phrases and motifs as emphatic and percussive as the late pianist's. And he does so on Muse, unaided by the electronic boosters used by the Swede. There are moments on the more passionate and fiery tracks, which make up about half of the set, when it could almost be Svensson playing, unplugged. But there's a difference. Svensson's powerfully emotional performances seemed at times to be pre-scripted, turned on and off with deliberation. Herman's passion is unlike that; it feels more organic, more in-the-moment.
In contrast to A Time For Everything, with its dollop of covers from Björk, Sting, Leonard Cohen, Britney Spears and the American songbook, Muse focuses on Herman and Brewer's writing. There are just two familiar covers, Dizzy Gillespie's "Con Alma" and Björk's "Isobel," plus one lesser-known tune each from songwriters Alexander Argov and Naomi Shemer. Argov's Middle East-inflected "Lamidbar" and Herman's "Vertigo," which are grouped one after the other, are among the highpoints of the album—urgent, visceral and giddifying.
Herman includes a string quartet on three tracks to rewarding effect. At just over three minutes, the opening title track is a brief but substantial classical piece; rhapsodic and suggesting something eventful to come. The strings are assertive and foregrounded. They are less so on "Isobel," where Cleaver's "tribal" drumbeats, reiterated throughout, provide the engine. On the haunting "Rina Balle," which closes, they morph winningly between background and foreground.
Not to be missed.
Published: July 19, 2009
Muse is Yaron Herman's fourth album and with it the Israeli-born/French-based pianist continues his steady progress towards a mature post-Keith Jarrett, post-Brad Mehldau style and the certainty of world ranking. Still in his late twenties, Herman set out his stall with the piano/drums duo album Takes 2 To Know 1 (Sketch, 2005), which was followed by a solo set, Variations (Laborie Records, 2006), and most recently a trio plus electronica album, A Time For Everything (Laborie Records, 2007). The new album, another trio outing, has the same personnel as its predecessor—Herman, bassist Matt Brewer and drummer Gerald Cleaver—but without an electronicist.
On the evidence of Muse, Herman's time can't be long in coming, if indeed it isn't immediately around the very next corner. The influence of Jarrett and Mehldau can still be heard, but is now more diffuse. To it can be added another resonance, Esbjorn Svensson. For along with his intense, emotionally nuanced lyricism, Herman can turn out phrases and motifs as emphatic and percussive as the late pianist's. And he does so on Muse, unaided by the electronic boosters used by the Swede. There are moments on the more passionate and fiery tracks, which make up about half of the set, when it could almost be Svensson playing, unplugged. But there's a difference. Svensson's powerfully emotional performances seemed at times to be pre-scripted, turned on and off with deliberation. Herman's passion is unlike that; it feels more organic, more in-the-moment.
In contrast to A Time For Everything, with its dollop of covers from Björk, Sting, Leonard Cohen, Britney Spears and the American songbook, Muse focuses on Herman and Brewer's writing. There are just two familiar covers, Dizzy Gillespie's "Con Alma" and Björk's "Isobel," plus one lesser-known tune each from songwriters Alexander Argov and Naomi Shemer. Argov's Middle East-inflected "Lamidbar" and Herman's "Vertigo," which are grouped one after the other, are among the highpoints of the album—urgent, visceral and giddifying.
Herman includes a string quartet on three tracks to rewarding effect. At just over three minutes, the opening title track is a brief but substantial classical piece; rhapsodic and suggesting something eventful to come. The strings are assertive and foregrounded. They are less so on "Isobel," where Cleaver's "tribal" drumbeats, reiterated throughout, provide the engine. On the haunting "Rina Balle," which closes, they morph winningly between background and foreground.
Not to be missed.
Published: July 19, 2009
Yaron Herman in The Guardian !
30 11 07 11:43
John L
Walters
Friday November 30, 2007
The Guardian
This album is almost a masterclass in the contemporary trio. In one package, pianist Herman crams powerful originals, straight-ahead swingers, sensitive balladry, Monk pastiche, electronics, a standard, ingenious pop covers and a prayer-like solo cover of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, throwing in a bit of free improv and Scriabin along the way. Herman shows a gift for deconstructing recent hits for Björk and Britney. Both Army of Me and Toxic have rhythmic twists that suit Herman's propulsive style, and a harmonic simplicity that is echoed in originals such as Paluszki. His reinvention of the Police's Message in a Bottle works less well. The trio is completed by Matt Brewer (bass) and Gerald Cleveland (drums), featured to great effect on a brief jazz headbanger called El Toro and on the album's "secret" track. But is there A Time for Everything? The pick and mix aspect means that we never learn where Herman's heart lies
Friday November 30, 2007
The Guardian
This album is almost a masterclass in the contemporary trio. In one package, pianist Herman crams powerful originals, straight-ahead swingers, sensitive balladry, Monk pastiche, electronics, a standard, ingenious pop covers and a prayer-like solo cover of Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah, throwing in a bit of free improv and Scriabin along the way. Herman shows a gift for deconstructing recent hits for Björk and Britney. Both Army of Me and Toxic have rhythmic twists that suit Herman's propulsive style, and a harmonic simplicity that is echoed in originals such as Paluszki. His reinvention of the Police's Message in a Bottle works less well. The trio is completed by Matt Brewer (bass) and Gerald Cleveland (drums), featured to great effect on a brief jazz headbanger called El Toro and on the album's "secret" track. But is there A Time for Everything? The pick and mix aspect means that we never learn where Herman's heart lies
Album of the week on the Jazz.co.uk
17 11 07 11:37
Yaron Herman – A Time For
Everything (Nov 16) -
Mike Chadwick
Israeli-born Herman began playing piano only at the age of 16, using a revolutionary technique. Now ten years later he is on to his second solo album with A Time for Everything using a trio format, his music has brought comparisons to artists as varied as E.S.T., Bjork and Jeff Buckley.
http://www.the-jazz.co.uk/article.asp?id=427219
Israeli-born Herman began playing piano only at the age of 16, using a revolutionary technique. Now ten years later he is on to his second solo album with A Time for Everything using a trio format, his music has brought comparisons to artists as varied as E.S.T., Bjork and Jeff Buckley.
http://www.the-jazz.co.uk/article.asp?id=427219
Yaron Herman in All About Jazz
27 10 07 14:56
A Time for
Everything
Yaron Herman Trio | Laborie Records (2007)
By John Kelman comments
A Time for Everything
Yaron Herman Trio | Laborie Records (2007)
By John Kelman comments
Sometimes the power of a back story can eclipse the music it supports. For Israeli-born pianist Yaron Herman it’s a close call, but A Time for Everything is such a refreshing and multifaceted album that a little background is necessary. Herman, still in his mid-twenties, began playing piano at sixteen, a shift in focus resulting from an unexpected basketball accident that put an end to his sporting aspirations. The sports world’s loss became the music world’s gain when, after only two years of an unorthodox multi-disciplinary teaching method, Herman left to study at the Berklee College of Music. Dissatisfied, Herman left after two months, with a return trip stop-over in Paris turning into an extended stay as Herman quickly established himself as the up-and-coming pianist on the Parisian jazz scene.
A Time for Everything is Herman’s third release as a leader and his first in a trio setting, but he already possesses not just a mature voice, but one that marries a firm grasp of the tradition (his effortlessly swinging “Stompin,” with its touch of stride, and the equally swinging blues, “Monkey in Paradise”) with a youthful mindset that will
appeal to both traditionalists and those with a more modernistic bent. Any album with a song list ranging from Scriabine to Sting, Leonard Cohen to Björk, and the Great American Songbook to—yes, you read that right— Britney Spears, is an album that is, at the very least, worth some attention.
That Herman—alongside bassist Matt Brewer and ubiquitous drummer Gerald Cleaver—can find merit in Spears’ simple pop confection (“Toxic”) only means that he hears potential in just about anything. But unlike other bands that deconstruct popular contemporary songs, there’s no sign of shtick or artifice to be found.
“Message in a Bottle” begins with the sound of someone searching through a radio dial and ultimately finding a fiery intro that only gradually reveals the familiar arpeggios that define this staple from The Police. Cleaver grooves more definitively than The Police’s Stewart Copeland ever did, while Herman marries reverence with liberal reharmonization.
Herman is undeniably informed by many of the usual suspects, ranging from Jarrett to Mehldau. But his ability to run the gamut from assertive and edgy playing on Björk’s “Army of Me,” to European neoclassicism on the
fiery rubato original, “MMM,” spare, dark-hued elegance on “Nishima” and an understated solo look at Leonard Cohen’s enduring “Hallelujah”—leading to a sublime coda where Herman’s playing is enhanced by his trio’s subtle colorations—demonstrates a player whose distinctive voice is already well-formed.
Occasional sound designs by Jean Pierre Taïeb broaden the textural scope without intruding on the trio’s clear simpatico. From a dramatic yet poignant take on “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning” to “Layla Layla,” which references Herman’s cultural roots, A Time for Everything is a success from start to finish.
Reinforcing Herman’s reputation, and deserving to further raise the profile of this rapidly emerging and remarkable talent,
everything is, indeed, possible.
Téléchargez cet article dans la section Download-Dossier de Presse 2007
Yaron Herman Trio | Laborie Records (2007)
By John Kelman comments
A Time for Everything
Yaron Herman Trio | Laborie Records (2007)
By John Kelman comments
Sometimes the power of a back story can eclipse the music it supports. For Israeli-born pianist Yaron Herman it’s a close call, but A Time for Everything is such a refreshing and multifaceted album that a little background is necessary. Herman, still in his mid-twenties, began playing piano at sixteen, a shift in focus resulting from an unexpected basketball accident that put an end to his sporting aspirations. The sports world’s loss became the music world’s gain when, after only two years of an unorthodox multi-disciplinary teaching method, Herman left to study at the Berklee College of Music. Dissatisfied, Herman left after two months, with a return trip stop-over in Paris turning into an extended stay as Herman quickly established himself as the up-and-coming pianist on the Parisian jazz scene.
A Time for Everything is Herman’s third release as a leader and his first in a trio setting, but he already possesses not just a mature voice, but one that marries a firm grasp of the tradition (his effortlessly swinging “Stompin,” with its touch of stride, and the equally swinging blues, “Monkey in Paradise”) with a youthful mindset that will
appeal to both traditionalists and those with a more modernistic bent. Any album with a song list ranging from Scriabine to Sting, Leonard Cohen to Björk, and the Great American Songbook to—yes, you read that right— Britney Spears, is an album that is, at the very least, worth some attention.
That Herman—alongside bassist Matt Brewer and ubiquitous drummer Gerald Cleaver—can find merit in Spears’ simple pop confection (“Toxic”) only means that he hears potential in just about anything. But unlike other bands that deconstruct popular contemporary songs, there’s no sign of shtick or artifice to be found.
“Message in a Bottle” begins with the sound of someone searching through a radio dial and ultimately finding a fiery intro that only gradually reveals the familiar arpeggios that define this staple from The Police. Cleaver grooves more definitively than The Police’s Stewart Copeland ever did, while Herman marries reverence with liberal reharmonization.
Herman is undeniably informed by many of the usual suspects, ranging from Jarrett to Mehldau. But his ability to run the gamut from assertive and edgy playing on Björk’s “Army of Me,” to European neoclassicism on the
fiery rubato original, “MMM,” spare, dark-hued elegance on “Nishima” and an understated solo look at Leonard Cohen’s enduring “Hallelujah”—leading to a sublime coda where Herman’s playing is enhanced by his trio’s subtle colorations—demonstrates a player whose distinctive voice is already well-formed.
Occasional sound designs by Jean Pierre Taïeb broaden the textural scope without intruding on the trio’s clear simpatico. From a dramatic yet poignant take on “In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning” to “Layla Layla,” which references Herman’s cultural roots, A Time for Everything is a success from start to finish.
Reinforcing Herman’s reputation, and deserving to further raise the profile of this rapidly emerging and remarkable talent,
everything is, indeed, possible.
Téléchargez cet article dans la section Download-Dossier de Presse 2007
Haaretz.com
14 06 06 10:26
| Yaron
Herman: "Music is supposed to convey a state
of being... That is what gets people
excited." (Orly Dahan)
|
| Zen and
the art of piano playing
|
ByBen Shalev
Many musicians spend their entire career without hearing music lovers debate the quality of their music. For pianist Yaron Herman, five minutes of playing were enough. Four months ago he was a guest in the final section of a performance by saxophonist Albert Beger and Italian drummer Roberto Dani, at the Jazz Festival in the Tel Aviv Cinematheque. Beger and Dani are very dominant musicians, but the moment that Herman began playing, their presence onstage was almost forgotten. The young pianist changed the nature of the music entirely, and the dissonant and choppy sounds that had filled the stage during the hour before his appearance melted into a harmonic and flowing musical drama. Beger and Dani looked somewhat shocked: At first they tried to blend in, but they gave up very quickly. Nobody in the audience seemed to remain indifferent to Herman. Some were enthusiastic about his playing, but there were others who had reservations about what they saw as his "hostile takeover" of the performance. "That wasn't arrogance, that was lack of fear," explains Herman in a telephone interview from Paris, where he has been living for the past four years. "When I play I'm not afraid of anything, and at that moment I thought that the right thing to do was to interrupt the flow of the performance, to turn it into something else. It didn't work they way I thought it would. The other musicians didn't cooperate. In effect, the lack of coordination was so great, that it was wonderful. But let's stop discussing that performance, it's such a marginal detail. I'm amazed that they're making such a big deal of it."
Herman prefers to tell, for example, about his trip to China about two weeks ago, in which he was the first jazz pianist to play in the Forbidden City in Beijing. The appearances in China were a continuation of a performance he gave at the classical music festival in Toulouse, which every year invites a jazz pianist to participate. Two years ago it was Chick Corea, last year Brad Mehldau - and this year it was Herman, which indicates the great respect that France has for the 24-year-old Israeli pianist. "The visit to Beijing was fascinating," Herman relates. "In China there is no tradition of jazz, and the audience there does not have knowledge like that of people in the West. The people who attended my concert were like children who discover something new: attentive, warm and curious. There was amazing energy there, and after the performance they invited me to come back next year and to perform in another six cities in China, including Shanghai and Hong Kong."Eastern philosophy Yaron Herman began to play only eight years ago, when he was 16. Until then his world was mainly basketball: He was a player on the cadets' team in star Tal Burstein's first line-up. "And then, fortunately, I was injured," he says. "I couldn't continue with basketball, and I began to think about what I wanted to do with my life." He decided to study piano and in his searches for a teacher ended with Ofer Breyer, who has taught some of the outstanding musicians among the younger generation of Israeli jazz players (for example, pianist Anat Fort) and is known for his unconventional methods. The first meeting was somewhat traumatic, recalls Hermon. "He asked me to play something for him, I fooled around with some notes, and he simply sat there and remained silent. After two minutes of silence he asked, 'Do you have any brothers?' I didn't understand what he wanted from me. 'Yes, three,' I said. Another moment of silence passed, and then he asked: 'Do you beat them up?' I think that he was trying to create a provocation in order to find some sort of sensitivity." During the following lessons the piano remained closed. "All we did was talk," says Herman, "and all the time, in the background, I heard very soft and hypnotic music. In the end I asked him what it was, he said it was 'The Koln Concert' by Keith Jarrett, and then we started to work. As opposed to most teachers, Ofer didn't teach me scales or sight reading. His method focuses on maximizing one's personal potential. He claims that in order to be a good musician you have to have three things, which he calls IQ, EQ and 'OQ' - intelligence, emotion and an obsession for music." Breyer recommended that Herman become familiar with Eastern philosophies, spoke to him about mathematical models relating to music, "and mainly taught me how to work on myself, to get rid of all kinds of fears," says Herman. He played eight hours a day, trying to internalize the styles of the great jazz pianists, and also read books about Zen. "I was a kind of sponge," he says. Wasn't it too much for a 17 year-old? "Not at all. We live in a culture that sanctifies only knowledge, but knowledge is only one variable in the equation. The second variable, the really important one, is experience. The more you increase it, the more room there is for knowledge. It's like water and a glass. The larger the glass, the more room there is for water." Herman began to perform in cafes and clubs, played with classmates from the Alon School in Ramat Hasharon, and after graduating decided to go to the United States. He arrived in Boston and deliberated between the Berkley School of Music and the New England Conservatory of Music. "But it didn't feel right to me," he says, "maybe because I don't manage in a student milieu. I always feel very lonely."A fateful night He decided to return to Israel. The charter flight included a stop in Paris, and due to a snowstorm, Herman was forced to spend the night in the city. "I thought, if this mishap has already occurred, let's go and play at some jam session. What do I have to lose? I'm not a big fan of jam sessions, but tomorrow I'm leaving, who cares about me? I found a club, I went onstage, I think I played 'Whisper Not' [a standard of saxophonist Benny Golson - B.S.] and people around me got excited. Two musicians came up to me, asked who I was and said they had performances and their pianist was out of town. 'If you stay,' they said, 'we'll pay your ticket to Israel. We'll take care of everything.' I was supposed to stay in Paris for a week, and I've been here now for four years." He started to perform in a rather unusual place - an empty apartment that had been taken over by young squatters. "I performed there every week, solo, and people started to come. A rumor began in the city that a crazy pianist was playing in the basement," he says. During the years that Herman has been living in Paris he has performed in Israel several times. His most memorable performance was a concert three years ago, in which he did free interpretations of some of the standard old favorites of Israeli music. "The performances at the Tel Aviv Museum of Art were an amazing experience, with a great deal of emotion," says Nitzan Kremer, the musical director of that concert series. The widow of Israeli composer Sasha Argov was in the audience, and when Yaron and his partners played 'Zemer ahava layam' ["Love Song to the Sea"], she began to cry." One of Herman's partners in the concert was saxophonist Raphael Imbert, who together with him today is now running the Newtopia ensemble, which will be arriving next week for five performances in Israel as part of the Hot Jazz program. The first performance will be next Tuesday (June 20) at the Camelot Club in Herzliya, and it will be followed on Wednesday at the Gerard Bechar Center in Jerusalem on Thursday, and Friday at the Tel Aviv Museum, and on Saturday at the Abba Hushi House in Haifa. Newtopia was born of an encounter between Herman and Imbert, "which occurred at one of the innumerable jazz festivals that take place in France," says Herman. "The click was immediate. We understood at once that we share the same values." What are those values? "The understanding that music is not only notes, certainly not only technique. Music is supposed to convey a state of being, which you can achieve if you as an artist work on yourself. That is what gets people excited by music. John Coltrane is the best example: He looked for the situation in which he was connected to some process that was located deep inside him. In other words, and I know that this will sound like a cliche - both Raphael and I think that music touches on something sacred." Imbert told Herman that in Marseille, where he lives, he had a group of outstanding students, who would be interested in playing with the ensemble that the two wanted to start. "I thought to myself, 'Students - how good could they be?' But when I heard them, I received the shock of my life," says Herman. That's how the Newtopia group was created. It was afterward joined by the excellent South African saxophonist and singer Zim Ngqawana, who will also be arriving for the upcoming performances in Israel. The main part of the performances here will be devoted to the work "La Suite Elegiaque" (Elegiac Suite), which was written by Imbert in the wake of his mother's death from cancer. "It lasts for about an hour, has four parts, and deals with mourning and with emerging from mourning," Herman explains. The rest of the concert will be devoted to performances of great Israel songs (apparently including the song "Halikha lekesariya" ("Walking to Caesarea," by Hannah Szenes, more commonly known as "Eli, Eli"), in the spirit of a concert of three years ago. Herman: "These are songs that are part of me, that remind me of home, and I have come to realize that people in France and in Europe are moved by them. That doesn't surprise me. These songs have a very song emotional core. This is very sensitive music, which has a great deal of history - music that tells the story of a nation. You don't have to know the story in order to be moved by it.