As much of the world moves into what bloviating prognosticators have, for the last twelve or so months, been calling the “new normal,” we begin to see (and hear) the artistic aftermaths and reflections of a post-lockdown era. With bottled up creativity now runneth over, our human need to both create and consume the burgeoning artefacts of post-pandemic artistic expression is amped up and underway. Next, I suppose, will be the rush to identify which creations are the “Kind of Blue,” “Great Gatsby” or “Starry Night(s)” of the “After Times” epoch. But, and until then, what good fortune to be able to drink deeply from all that the current creative renaissance has on offer, enjoying what holds the promise to be a flowering of artistic statement neither seen nor heard in decades. In jazz alone, the output has been voluminous, the benchmark high and the casting—as the world both welcomes and demands greater and more equitable representation of intersectional diversity and increased access to a proverbial “seat at the table”—rich.

Jazz music can both embrace or, to paraphrase Viktor Frankl, “resist” the zeitgeist. No doubt, for example, can the insistent teleological forward press of the music of Charlie Parker and compatriots serve as homologous analog to the freneticism and fast-pace of a post-World War II America. But jazz is also anachronistic in how it “leans in” to the more “timeless” aesthetic of beauty; seemingly untethered to changes proximal and situational. There is little doubt as to the restorative and curative properties of great art (including great jazz). As the world heals from the last 18-months, now is indeed the time to empower fine jazz, such as what is captured on this recording here, to wash “away the dust of everyday life,” as Art Blakey famously proclaimed.

I first became aware of Sam Kirmayer, the 32-year-old Montréal guitarist and composer, by way of the phenomenal pianist, singer and organist Ben Paterson. Having had the good fortune to work with Ben on some of his Toronto appearances, I was listening to him wax poetic with a proselytizing zeal about such stylistically similar (but geographically disparate) guitarists as Andy Brown (Chicago), Chris Flory (New York) and Erik Söderlind (Sweden), when Kirmayer’s name surfaced. Fresh off of the trio recording session that produced High and Low, the guitarist’s “blowing date” debut for Cellar Live where Kirmayer, in his own words, “confronts the tradition head on, coming out of the gate playing tunes [standards],” Paterson was, and for good reason, enthusiastic about both the young musician’s considerable talents and his philosophical approach to making an album. Not one to let a recommendation from no less a player than Paterson go unresearched, I scoured the internet and was immediately knocked out by Kirmayer’s tone, taste and obvious master musicianship. All of these attributes, and more, are clearly evidenced here on In This Moment.

Standing on the shoulders of the Montréal (or Montréal-based) jazz guitarists who came before him (René Thomas, Nelson Symonds, Sonny Greenwich, Peter Leitch, Richard Ring, Greg Clayton, Mike Rud), Kirmayer mines the depths of his city’s strong jazz lineage in making the smart choice to tap saxophonist Al McLean (a staple of that city’s “jazz jam” scene whose pleading tenor saxophone on “Blues For Proskurov” imbues Kirmayer’s haunting composition with the solemnity that it’s source material warrants), trombonist Muhammad Abdul Al-Khabyyr (an impactful musician whom Kirmayer heard often while “coming up”), bassist Alec Walkington and drummer André White for this recording. Stalwarts all for whom the phrase “deserving wider recognition” indeed fits. Pianist Sean Fyfe, equally great, is the only musical contributor of similar vintage to Kirmayer and, like the bandleader himself, proves that musicianship and artistic maturity (note the terrific waltzing piano feature on “Quixote”) belies youth.

This recording, coalescing around Kirmayer’s marvelous guitar playing, band leading abilities with a medium-sized jazz aggregation, as well as his well-developed compositional prowess makes a powerful artistic statement indeed. “I really love the sextet sound,” states Kirmayer, “particularly the playing and writing of Benny Golson, Woody Shaw, and such recent manifestations as the ‘One for All’ band. That said, there is not a lot of guitar present within many of the bands working in this style and so,” in a nod to the adage ‘necessity is the mother of invention’ continues Kirmayer, “I realized that if I was going to hear my guitar within this context, I’d have to write myself in.” Which is exactly what he did!

Of note throughout is how expressively Kirmayer conveys his deep and thorough knowledge of what musicians often refer to as “the tradition,” while simultaneously putting across forward thinking modernity. For me it is this: Kirmayer’s ability to reside, play with and put into flux the liminal space that exists between the present and some upcoming and inevitable, yet undefined, future musical direction that situates this young guitar and compositional talent both in this moment, and beyond.

Andrew Scott
Toronto, Ontario
October 2021