Anarchy Down The Tuba
Sydney Morning Herald
Friday November 21, 1997
If you ever thought there was something a bit crazy about clogs, dykes and windmills, the Willem Breuker Kollektief will do nothing to dispel the idea. These 10 anarchic Dutchmen and one woman rampage around the world, confusing people as to whether they are clowns masquerading as musicians or musicians masquerading as clowns.
Half the members of Breuker's "socialist collective" have been with him since its inception 23 years ago, recording countless albums and playing 100 times a year. Once musicians catch the Breuker bug, they don't shed it easily, it seems.
"I never want to do the thing I did before," Breuker said after a captivating performance at the Wangaratta Jazz Festival. "Always I want to produce new sounds. I want to surprise myself."
Not to mention surprising the audience, for one pigeon-holes the Kollektief at one's peril. Free jazz, the classical tradition and brass-band music (including circus sounds) all jostle for prominence, while a search for comparisons might lead to such disparate composers as Carla Bley, Nino Rota and Frank Zappa. The band plays with fire, humour and precision, whether the music is by Breuker, Kurt Weill or even Josef Hayden (the third movement of whose Concerto for Trumpet and Orchestra is performed by Toby Rix on car horns on the Metropolis album).
Live, the focus inevitably falls as much on the antics as the music. At the Wangaratta performance, for instance, while Bernard Hunnekink was busily producing a tuba solo of sounds more generally associated with a fat gentleman's shorts, Andreas Altenfelder picked Hunnekink's pockets and, finding a wallet, stashed the cash.
Not satisfied, Altenfelder then produced a pair of scissors and set about giving his colleague a haircut. Proudly brandishing his snippings, Altenfelder marched up to the hirsutely challenged Boy Raaymakers and placed the strands on his head. Meanwhile, Breuker and violinist Lorre Trytten were also stealing Hunnekink's thunder by falling over themselves trying to mike up the tuba. Solo? What solo?
"I always wanted to do things with theatre because I see music as theatre," said Breuker, as decidedly deadpan off-stage as on. "Theatre came from my education, my family, or whatever. I watch. I see things - also stupid things that are not to do with music, but that keeps me laughing.
"I mean, music is not that important. Do it as a profession very seriously, but don't take it too seriously as an art."
Musicians or clowns? Probably both. Perhaps that's what they mean by double-dutch.
Willem Breuker Kollektief play the Basement on Thursday, $25, $30.
© 1997 Sydney Morning Herald