if you are the dali lama
then your light is dispersed
among raggedy-assed
saxophonists under the
evasive streetlights of
tomorrow
As for Me I must forage
-Excerpt from Faruq Z. Bey’s poem Albert Ayler
The Northwoods Improvisers was formed in Traverse City, Michigan in the mid-1970s when some high school friends got a band together and started playing music - in typical 1970s fashion. They began playing gigs in 1979 and are still going strong today, albeit with different musicians.
Mike Johnston, their bassist has been there from the beginning. He shared with me:
John Plough and I have been friends since 7th grade. We met Mike Gilmore around the time we graduated from high school and began jamming with him. We formed the band in 1976. I met Nick Ashton playing at a club in the early 70s, and we remained friends since then. We invited him to play with us in the mid-80s.
The original music focus of the band was to play an improvised form of music that was based more on nature and natural sounds (north woods) than urban music concepts… The name derived from a nature music concept and also taking an interest in bands like the Art Ensemble of Chicago, Spontaneous Music Ensemble, etc. - liking the long names of bands.
Originally they played electro-acoustic improvised music but in 1981 switched to an all-acoustic instrumentation.
In 2000, when saxophonist Lenni Bukowski introduced Faruq Z. Bey to the Northwoods Improvisers, the band consisted of Mike Johnston on bass and wood flutes, Mike Gilmore on vibes and bone guitar, and Nick Ashton on percussion. In a 2004 interview with Cadence magazine, Bey talks about that meeting:
I had began associating with this fellow, Len Bukowski, who was a reed player. We had an instructor-student relationship type of thing going on. And he knew them well. He had been associating with them and doing gigs with them and that kind of thing. He introduced me to them. And it turned out that they were familiar with me. Mike Johnston told me that they had opened up for Griot Galaxy back in the day… You know, ‘cause they were excellent players, man. I love them cats. We started talking and playing together.
It’s interesting to read Bukowski’s take on this meeting. He had recently moved to Detroit from Chicago and was playing in the area. He recalls:
Somehow I met Faruq Z. Bey and was studying with him a bit. Studying is a bad word because he was a very mathematically inclined often obtuse, intense person, and I was lost most of the time when he was going over things. Big on permutations, obfuscations, etc. of musical forms. I introduced him to the Northwoods crew and they began playing together.
The first time Faruq Z. Bey and the Northwoods Improvisers got together was at a concert in the Fall of 2000. On his radio program Destination Out, Johnston shared a story about that first meeting:
He sent us some music in the mail – a piece to learn of his. It was pretty tough, and we worked on it a couple times before he came. When he got there, he didn’t say much. He just said hello and little else. He started to assemble his horn, which was a kind of ritualistic thing for him, very methodical. Then he said, “Let’s hit this piece.” We played the tune and when it was over he took the saxophone off from around his neck, held it in his hands in front of him, and bowed to us. He said, “Thank you.” From that point on I knew it was cool. It was going to work.
This week on that Big River called Jazz we’ll explore the world of the collaboration between Faruq Z. Bey and the Northwoods Improvisers.
One of the things that may get overlooked when thinking about Faruq Z. Bey is his strength as a songwriter. In 2005, Chris Trent wrote, '“All of the music… epitomizes Faruq Z Bey’s approach of ‘minimum data in, maximum data out’, relying more on improvisation as opposed to the composition - the spirit as opposed to the text.”
In a very Detroit kind of way, Bey’s compositions also always incorporated a strong emphasis on rhythm. Bassist Mike Johnston reflects on this:
I do feel that there is a strong sense of rhythm that exists in music that is created in Michigan that is unique to Michigan music. I believe this has been influenced by R&B music and Motown that was unique to this area. To be a musician playing in Michigan I feel most players are expected to be able to play many styles and rhythms. To me, this sense of rhythm is present in Michigan jazz.
This speaks directly to Abdul Wadud’s belief in cultural things that are indigenous to certain areas. As mentioned last week, Detroit, with that Midwestern sensibility, contributed to a free organic music scene that was deep and open. Faruq Z. Bey and the Northwoods Improvisers were the embodiment of that sensibility
Bey’s first album with the Northwoods Improvisers was 19 Moons, recorded live in June 2001 in Wightman Hall on the campus of Central Michigan University. It was released in 2001 on Mike Khoury’s Entropy Stereo Recordings label.
Here’s the entire 19 Moons album:
I’m not sure if the album’s title refers to the 19 gravitationally-rounded moons of the Solar System or something else in the galactic quadrant, but it is a very interesting album and a solid debut. In general, the release reflects the Eastern influence from the heavy Arab population in the Detroit area, which had also found its way into the music of Yusef Lateef. The title track (at the 52:19 minute mark) begins with what could be brief musical representations of each of 19 Moons before moving into what feels to me like a mix of Ghost Town from One Step Beyond and Love and Hate from Destination Out, both from Jackie McLean’s pianoless quintet with Bobby Hutcherson on vibes - less Moncur’s trombone. In particular, I like Bukowski’s contra-alto clarinet on the album. It’s nice to hear this rare instrument that gives the album an Out To Lunch! feel.
It’s interesting to compare Opus Krampus, Bey’s last recording with Griot Galaxy, with 19 Moons. These are entirely different recordings. Griot Galaxy was a more Ornette Coleman, Jazz-based unit while the Northwoods Improvisers was much more mystical. Without knowing, I don’t think someone could connect these two recordings to Bey.
After 19 Moons, Bey and the Northwoods Improvisers went on to release eight more albums. It’s interesting to reflect on Bey and the Northwoods Improvisers’ progression over ten years from basically a quartet (plus Bukowski’s contra-alto clarinet on two tracks) to their last recordings as a sextet. This is a fascinating journey.
Preferring the three-horn (no trumpet) format, as he had in Griot Galaxy, Bey added saxophonist Mike Carey in 2002 and then Skeeter Shelton in 2003. This sextet continued to perform together for the next decade - until Bey’s death in 2012. This unit continued to record albums primarily at Khoury’s Entropy Stereo Recordings, honing their skills and interplay, which I think perhaps is highlighted best on their 4th release Journey Into The Valley, recorded on August 14, 2004, at Delta College in University Center, Michigan. Here’s a poster from a later DVD release event:
Here’s a performance of Mystery of Love by Ghanaian drummer Guy Warren. It was brought to the group by bassist Mike Johnston and builds on a nice 6/8 bass riff:
Their 5th release was Rwanda, an excellent live studio recording from June 25, 2005. It was released on Italian Emanuele Pinotti’s Qbico label. From the album, here is Mike Gilmore’s composition Himalayan Footpath:
In 2010, again on the Entropy Stereo Recordings, the band recorded Emerging Field, their 8th release. This is a good example of some of Bey’s later work with the Northwoods Improvisers. From the release, this is Mike Johnston’s composition Tenere [for S.E.K. & A.J.], dedicated to Johnston’s friend Steve Kaufman and Skeeter Shelton’s dad Ajaramu Shelton, who had both recently passed away. What a wonderful dedication:
I like to listen to this song in the context of its title Tenere.
The Tree of Ténéré was a solitary acacia once considered the most isolated tree on earth. It was a landmark on caravan routes through the Ténéré region of the Sahara Desert in northeast Niger.
In 1939, Michel Lesourd, Commander of the Allied Military Mission for Service to Central Saharan Affairs, wrote:
From Agadez, going to the post at Bilma, our automobile convoy arrives at 14.30 at the Tree of Ténéré. It is awfully hot—we are welcomed by the chief sergeant Lamotte who is in charge of the construction of a well at the foot of the Tree. Such an enterprise seems a challenge—a utopian idea. Why the Touareg or the Toubous didn't think of the idea of building a well before us in this desolate place in the Sahara is not known. Chief Sgt. Lamotte has been here since January. He has a good chance of finding water. He has already dug to a depth of 35 metres and the water has started to ooze. At that depth the roots of the Acacia can be seen, which explains, it seems, some reason for its existence.
Lamotte is thinking of ditching to 50 metres to find water in sufficient quantity. At the moment, every day he is getting up 8 estagnons (a copper tin) of water.
One must see the Tree to believe its existence. What is its secret? How can it still be living in spite of the multitudes of camels which trample at its sides. How at each azalai [salt caravans] does not a lost camel eat its leaves and thorns? Why don't the numerous Touareg leading the salt caravans cut its branches to make fires to brew their tea? The only answer is that the tree is taboo and considered as such by the caravaniers.
There is a kind of superstition, a tribal order which is always respected. Each year the azalai gather round the Tree before facing the crossing of the Ténéré. The Acacia has become a living lighthouse; it is the first or the last landmark for the azalai leaving Agadez for Bilma, or returning.
The birds rest at the foot of the Tree. Attracted from afar by its presence, they come to shelter, thinking they will find water and green foliage.
Unfortunately, it is death that is waiting. It is not a mirage, but just the same it is not a spring where turtledoves and crows and the pressing sparrows can drink.
Lamotte told me that one day a caravan was passing near his tent. Some turtledoves were flying over the caravan like seabirds following a ship. Some of these turtledoves carried on with the caravan, others gave up and landed at the foot of the Tree. They were manna for the well builders.
In 1973, the Tree of Ténéré was hit by a truck and later loaded onto another truck and taken to the Musée National Boubou Hama, the national museum of Niger located in Niamey.
The Tree of Ténéré is on the left:
The waters that once flowed deep beneath the Tree of Ténéré were indeed primal waters, and that is the title of the band’s final release together. Primal Waters was recorded on August 14, 2011, and was released on another of Pinotti’s labels, Sagittarius A-Star:
Faruq Z. Bey continued performing even a few months before he passed on June 1, 2012. Again, Mike Johnston says it best of all: “Until the end, Faruq had a powerful sound and presence. His music was meaningful, intelligent, and deeply heartfelt. Besides his powerful playing, he was a unique composer as well. He was also an uncompromising individual and a guiding source that reached far beyond music.”
Here’s one more for the road. From their Rwanda release, this is Gogisgi (Smoke):
The Northwoods Improvisers are still active today. Their latest release is Fanfares:
It was recorded on November 12 & 13, 2022, and released on the Entropy Stereo Recordings.
When asked by Mike Johnston to share one of Faruq Z. Bey’s greatest attributes, Mike Carey responded, “I think one of his greatest attributes was his tenaciousness. His never-ending hunger, regardless of his physical condition in his later years, a never-ending desire and intellectual and spiritual energy to keep driving and express, develop and express, his idea, and also to communicate them.”
Improvisation is a matter of the truth in the moment - not style. It is that truth that inspired Faruq Z. Bey’s uncompromising honesty and dedication to the spiritual power of the music. My hope is that he will find much greater recognition, and with that a greater appreciation for his music.
I’d like to acknowledge Ron DeCorte, Emanuele Pinotti, and Mike Khoury at Entropy Stereo Recordings, who played, and continue to play, a crucial role in documenting for all of us the music of Faruq Z. Bey, Griot Galaxy, and the Northwoods Improvisers. For this, we all owe them a huge debt of gratitude. Most of all, I must acknowledge and pay special tribute to the great bassist Mike Johnston, whose dedication to documenting the music of Faruq Z. Bey is important and commendable.
Next week, on that Big River called Jazz, we’ll leave the midwest and dig our paddles in to explore the world of Afro-Cuban Jazz.
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