On November 01 I went to the Cemal Reşit Rey Concert Hall in Harbiye to witness an unusual event – a jazz concert involving two orchestras playing simultaneously on the same stage. Although the event was advertised as a ‘clash’, it was in reality a friendly cooperation, an experiment whose result was both fascinating by way of its novelty and satisfying from the musical point of view.
Each of the two ensembles had its own array of saxophones, trombones and trumpets, as well as its double bass, its drums and its piano, and each had its own conductor. Both conductors – Ricky Ford and Ali Perret – had at one time been teachers of jazz at Bilgi University’s Music Department, Ali Perret being a pianist and Ricky Ford a saxophonist. Ali Perret’s group was made up mostly of Turkish musicians, while Ricky Ford’s outfit consisted of musicians from the USA, the UK and elsewhere.
The concert began with a piece involving extended saxophone solos from Ricky Ford. It soon became obvious that the style both orchestras were playing in was largely atonal, with recognisable keys creeping in only occasionally. It is difficult indeed to make atonal music sound acceptable to the ear as unanticipated clashes between notes (for instance, those that are only a semitone apart) can cause the listener to squirm. Somehow, however, the two ensembles managed it – an achievement that did credit not just to the professionalism of the musicians, but also to the skills of Messrs Ford and Perret as musical arrangers.
What particularly impressed me was the fact that although there were long gaps between entries, each group of instruments came in together and on time, thus demonstrating that they must all have counted the (let’s say) 69 bars’ rest accurately. Another thing that I noted with appreciation was that much of the time, both pianists were playing independently of what everyone else was doing, but neither of them spoiled the general effect – another indication that the performers concerned were highly experienced and possessed a high level of musical nous.
The concert was sold out long in advance, and it was only through the good offices of my network of informers and embedded assets that I was able to obtain a ticket. As a result, I found that I had been accorded a seat in a corner of the very highest floor of the auditorium, immediately under the roof. Despite this, however, I was able to hear nearly everything that was happening on the stage, and that is of course a tribute to the hall’s acoustics. It is true that from where I was sitting, Ricky Ford’s occasional speeches were no more than a blur of sound, but then one cannot have everything. (I hear that the logically watertight and supremely perceptive expression ‘It is what it is’ has now entered the language.) By way of comparison, anyone occupying a seat of this kind at the Atatürk Cultural Centre has little chance of following the musical plot, as I found when I attended a performance of Mozart’s *Don Giovanni* there earlier this year, having deliberately chosen to sit in a corner at the rear of the ground floor in order to test out the acoustics.
Some highlights of the ‘Clash of the Titans’ concert that involved everyone on stage were the second number, in which Orchestra A played a chordal passage that was then repeated by Orchestra B in a way that seemed to be making fun of their colleagues across the aisle by taking what they had played to discordant extremes; a passage in that same number in which both orchestras’ brass sections blarted out an anarchical chaos of notes that suddenly and miraculously resolved itself into pleasing harmonies; the atonal flourishes that were heard from both pianists, one of whom (the one from the foreign group) was rhythmically more adventurous, while the other (from the Turkish group) was more inclined to be harmonically inventive; and a number entitled ‘Reggae 7’ that saw Ricky Ford dance around as he conducted his orchestra, and that ended with an *accelerando* (i.e., a gradual speeding up) by both orchestras simultaneously in perfect sync – an incredibly difficult feat to pull off.
This is not to belittle the performances of the many musicians who played solos, of course: the pianist from the foreign group gave what I thought was the most impressive solo of the whole evening, while saxophonists Engin Recepoğulları and Meriç Demirkol from the Turkish group gave of their finest, and at one stage conductor Ali Perret sat at the piano to demonstrate his ability to produce a thrilling improvisation in any environment he happens to be in.
I would very much like to hear a recording of this concert, which produced some of the most original and stimulating jazz sounds I have heard for a long time. This was an experiment that was very much worth making, and I congratulate everyone involved in planning and preparing it, as well as all the musicians who entertained us in an event that may well be difficult to repeat. It was not at all a clash, but a creative and fruitful Hegelian opposition – and, as William Blake tells us in *The Marriage of Heaven and Hell*, ‘Opposition is true Friendship’.
