Album Review: MONKEY BUSINESS by Martin Gohary

Intensity punctuates silence, and silence intensity, on this recent release of avant-garde composer Martin Gohary and jazz saxophonist Erik Van Dam.

The first couple seconds of MONKEY BUSINESS hit you like a truck. The record opens with the title track, a short tune containing spurts of rapid-fire piano runs that are intercepted with an uninhibited squawky saxophone. Tonality seems to be an afterthought, if it’s even a thought at all. Within a different context, these jazz lines could be experimental hard bop phrases, grounded by the rhythmic foundation of a swung drum pattern, the thumping pulse of a bass line, and the harmonic framing of a chordal instrument. However, in the atypical and stripped-down arrangement of a piano-saxophone duo, the listener instead becomes intensely aware of the spacing that permeates these musician’s abrasive playing.

These themes–dynamic shifts in mood, intentional use of spacing, and disruptive phrasing–are persistent throughout this recent release of Martin Gohary, Boston-based avant-garde composer and pianist. In addition to Gohary’s vibrant piano playing throughout MONKEY BUSINESS, he is also joined by saxophonist Erik Van Dam, an avid performer in Massachusetts who, per his website, draws inspiration from the likes of Joe Lovano, Sam Rivers, and Eric Dolphy. The album was recorded by Pete Kontrimas at PBS Studios in Westwood, MA, and was mixed and mastered by Bijan Sharifi.

As the name may suggest, the second track on the record, “Self Loathing,” offers the listener a more reserved take on and subtle exploration of some of the rowdy themes presented in “Monkey Business.” Notes are sustained longer, and both instrumentalists spend more time on the sonic journeys to and from particular chords and melodic phrases that help to ground their experimental playing.

Lonesome” carries forth an ominous feeling, beginning with sentimental piano chords that sound like the start to a coherent and predictable ballad. Gohary’s chords are followed by tender lines by Van Dam–lines that are filled with a humanizing airiness. It often feels like the two are in conversation with one another throughout this tune–using their instruments as mediums for speech–but they seem to keep interrupting one another, and what each person is saying is perhaps only tangentially connected to the phrase that preceded. 

In character with the unexpected twists and turns of this record, the last bit of “Lonesome” contains a brief outburst of fast-paced sax lines that disrupt the established moodiness, but lead seamlessly into descending piano chords at the start of “Question Everything.” On the track, which is the longest on the record at seven minutes, Gohary and Van Dam further develop their conversational playing by passing melodic and rhythmic ideas back and forth. The two also play around with the spacing in this piece, emphatically dramatizing the phrases that follow moments of silence.

Though many pieces off the album leave the listener with the impression that the two musicians are conversing (and disagreeing, or even arguing) with one another, none do so quite as much as “Lament for a Spanish Bullfighter,” which opens with a decided call-and-response section between the two musicians. Van Dam takes the lead, playing sporadic runs on his saxophone, which Gohary follows expertly, before the two descend into a melancholy exploration of arpeggiated piano chords and long, sustained sax tones.

Although Martin Gohary’s website states that his “work explores the deep feelings we have that cannot be translated into words,” the titles of each track on this record do tend to capture elements of the musician’s emotions. For instance, on the final track, “Where did I Place IT?,” Gohary’s sparse thumping on the keys paints a musical picture of someone frantically slapping their pants pockets in search of a vanished wallet. 

Despite the quirkiness of these recordings, the bold sense of musical adventurism is often punctuated with tender and emotive playing from the two musicians. Much in the way that spaces of silence between notes and phrases help to give said notes and phrases more punch, Gohary and Van Dam often lure the listener into a false sense of security by playing with their expectations. What at first seems like a delicate ballad will just as quickly shift to rapid-fire bebop lines, and just when you have had enough of a disorienting atonal lack of structure, you are grounded by more conventional melodic and harmonic phrasing.

To hear more from these two musicians, you can listen to their first EP together, The Boxer, on Bandcamp, Apple Music, or Spotify. For more of each of their individual work, Martin and Erik’s personal websites are great places to start.