Gato Libre
Otoya-Kintoki, Ogikubo January 14, 2009
Natsuki Tamura – trumpet
Satoko Fujii – accordion
Kazuhiko Tsumura – guitar
Norikatsu Koreyasu – bass
Natsuki Tamura’s fascinating Spanish-inflected quartet is a real treat of exotic musical blending and creative musicianship. While these musicians all play all over Tokyo, this quartet’s home base is the pleasant Otoya-Kintoki, an intimate space that fits the music perfectly, sonically and atmospherically. This is a quartet that you want to hear up close, and while the club is not small, you have a sense of intimacy here that welcomes you into the delicate, lovely immediacy of the music.
Each evening Gato Libre, whose name means roughly “free cat” in Spanish, plays, they try out new tunes, written by leader Tamura. As a result, few of them have real titles, and Tamura calls them out, “Ma,” “Mi,” “Ya,” “Sa,” “Shi,” and “Su,” which gives them a very abstract and undefined quality. The tunes will surely be titled later, once they are collected, prepared and recorded for the next CD, which will be their fourth. But, during the mid-January show, one could enjoy them without poetic allusion, sinking directly into their sonic beauty and directional intrigue.
This quarter is all about a beautiful layering over of complexity. The opening tune, “Ma,” was slow, lovely and calm, with solos falling like tissues on the wind, Tamura’s trumpet laying down the melodies. His playing of notes feels like notes inside notes, with a breathy style that is sophisticated, but unrestrained. “Mi,” the second tune, had a stronger melody. Everyone started to take stronger solos, with plenty of Latin feel, more Spanish classical and flamenco inspired, than jazz. The Arabic feeling of “Me,” the third song was pulsing, throbbing and as close to danceable as anything in the evening.
The quartet worked closely together, with everyone falling in stronger and stronger as the tunes worked their unique magic. The oddly metered and differently-lengthened lines of tunes like “Ya,” were intriguing. Tsumura’s guitar (and his foot stomps, too!) kept the others focused on the flow, while Koreyasu on bass, took more and more aching solos, with pauses and an unhurried time-feel all around. The hesitations and open spaces in the music were as powerful as the notes.
Tamura’s trumpeting is sure-fingered and strong, but leaves plenty of open, unforced spaces for the feeling to enter. Each of his notes is poised and presented. The lack of clutter lets in emotions, moods, sentiments and a kind of constant wistfulness to the total sound. Because it is all so quiet at times, the brashness of open, freely played solos really hammers home. This fluid playing over such well-constructed songs has a real understated punch to it that is entirely different from Fujii and Tamura’s more common wildness. This is reflective, calming and precisely felt music. It will all be collected on the fourth CD which, once the songs are titled, will be coming out sometime in the very near, though not near enough, future.