The baritone — too often an unsung member of the saxophone family — deserves more attention. For an intimate audience at Brooklyn’s 440 Gallery on Sunday, Josh Sinton set about demonstrating both the versatility of the instrument and the ingenuity of his solo compositions and improvisation.
This show was a rare example of the medium, a menu of bari served ten ways. Sinton opened with a breathy, quiet flutter in an always-impressive circular breathing introductory passage. Sat in a quiet space so close to the musician, we the audience were afforded the rare opportunity to see the systems interaction of the musician and instrument – the expansion and contraction of the neck, the audible sharp snatches of breath forming an unusual beat in partnership with the light rhythmic click of the mechanism and the satisfyingly solid clack of the pads.
Sinton then loosened into full-throated play, and a sequence of scales, with small rhythmic distortions and intermediate notes; the sort of study which brings back mild PTSD from one’s own interactions with learning and practicing as a child, tempered by the real interest which Sinton has discretely added. Throughout, a trail of hints of musical references were left for the listener – enough to tug at the attention and draw parallels, but not enough to distract.
The exploration continued with carefully built harmonics, and the enthralling tone of the singing instrument being sung into, creating a sound reminiscent of reedier, more nasal woodwind. Sinton also successfully explored the small shop-front gallery space he took at his stage, walking to the corners of the room to vary the sound, and engaging with some endearing direct call-and-response with the excited infant audience member who he so graciously welcomed into the venue.
This performance was of course a one-off, but it was in large part built off Sinton’s new release, out on 12 January, Couloir and Book of Practitioners Vol. 2. And whereas, when performed live, the short pieces and studies that constitute the double album merge fluidly into one extended event, I’m sure the addition of intellectual clarity from listening to the record – even knowing when each small piece starts and ends – can and will open another level into the work.
In the wider sense, this performance is certainly not a one-off, and forms part of the monthly solo series ‘Me, myself and eye’, organized by Michel Gentile, and hosted at 440 Gallery.
