PRESS

". . . an artist who is taking his instrument to truly new and wonderful places." (All About Jazz)

". . . Bruckmann is an excellent composer, striking the right balance between form and freedom, setting up abundant opportunities for his mates to express themselves." (Jason Bivins, Signal to Noise)

". . . since 1996 one of Chicago's busiest out-music Bad Boys . . ." (Tom Djll, One Final Note)

"Oboist Kyle Bruckmann is the local improv scene's Clark Kent. He's a generally polite and unassuming soloist, but when he fronts prog terrors Lozenge he emerges frothing and howling and mighty, as if Superman had caught rabies from Batman during some lost weekend of superheroes behaving badly . . ." (Monica Kendrick, Chicago Reader)

". . . an encyclopedic recall of advanced noise-music articulates from the the fingers, lips, and pen of Bruckmann; he prefers concealing himself in squid-inkings of black humor and wry misdirection. Likewise his music tends to be studiously mordant and spread thick with irony and wit. 'It's not supposed to work like this!' someone screams in one of his songs. But it does work more often than not, in spite of its own spite." (Tom Djll, Signal to Noise)

gasps & fissures

Gasps and Fissures's microscopic constructions are meticulously built from some of the music's smallest bits. Bruckmann passes over the double-reed instruments' usual output and focuses instead on the hidden overtones, miniscule expulsions, and otherwise unheard aspects of the characteristic tones. Inhalations and exhalations are woven into a series of uneven, alien respirations, accented by the clicking of the tongue's interruption of the flow of air. Thin tones are layered and staggered to create an almost bagpipe-like drone. Bruckmann renders the emissions of oboe, English horn, suona, and mijwiz nearly anonymous through his manipulation, much like the album's close-up cover art portrays the oboe's hardware as an almost industrial mechanism. The acoustic properties of the music, however, no matter how obscured, remain largely intact, giving the processed proceedings an organic anchor that behooves the music greatly.

. . . Kyle Bruckmann's goal in the creation of Gasps and Fissures was (in part), in his words, "...an attempt to inhabit gray areas and straddle dichotomies," and the album does this in an engaging fashion. Bruckmann's classical and jazz influences are stripped down and dissected, resulting in music that's as much electronic as it is either of the aforementioned styles. Gasps and Fissures inhabits the areas in between these territories, not straddling them so much as existing deep in the cracks, where many wouldn't even think to look. Like a slide of single-celled organisms bursting to life under a microscope, this album finds flourishing life in the most unexpected of places." (Adam Strohm, Dusted magazine)

Wrack

"...dazzling proof that intricately arranged, angular modern jazz can be accessible and enjoyable."
(Dan Warburton, The Wire)

Following oboist Kyle Bruckmann's self-titled 2003 Toucan Records debut, Intents & Purposes finds his Wrack ensemble exploring a similar program of experimental chamber jazz. Bruckmann effortlessly occupies the space between jazz and classical music, generating movements of somber reflection one minute, turbulent intensity the next. From Morton Feldman-esque minimalism to Charles Ives-like bluster, Wrack has few equals.

Bruckmann concentrates on oboe, but he also dabbles in English horn and suona. Since two of the group's original members were unavailable, he recruited bassist Anton Hatwich and bass clarinetist Jason Stein (heard recently with Ken Vandermark's Bridge 61 project). Violist Jen Clare Paulson shares the front line with Bruckmann and Stein. Tim Daisy again sits behind the trap set.

Opening with the angular march cadence of “The System Cannot Withstand Close Scrutiny,” the ensemble alternates between periodic thematic statements and inventive pairings. Bruckmann and Stein caterwaul in unison during an a cappella break, Hatwich's bass spars with Daisy's palpitating trap set, Paulson's viola soars lyrically over the collective ensemble, and Stein's bass clarinet clamors into the finale.

“Slippery Disciplines” evokes the angularity of Anthony Braxton, with subtle AACM-inspired moments punctuated by explosive exclamations and rigid formalism. ”Inasmuch As” begins as a propulsive journey for Bruckmann's lofty oboe before it derails into a frenetic discourse between Stein's barking bass clarinet and Daisy's skittering percussion. The title track begins in silence, gradually developing into an austere chamber piece before locking into a funky gait. “Further Ado” closes the album with a joyous riff, blending the quirky motifs of Raymond Scott with a postmodern Rube Goldbergian twist. Emblematic of both Braxton and Henry Threadgill's circus-like themes, it blends a zany line with taut improvisation and unconventional tonalities.

Historically, attempts to combine classical music with jazz often tend toward the programmatic and cerebral. Bruckmann's writing sounds wholly organic and natural. With Intents & Purposes, he delivers an album rich with tricky contrapuntal writing, bolstered by unusual arrangements and intricate interplay. Whether Wrack qualifies as free jazz, chamber jazz or some other hybrid is irrelevant: this is music made by artists unafraid of genre constraints. (Troy Collins, All About Jazz)

. . . Bruckmann is one of the leading practitioners of the difficult double-reed instrument, and on this recent release from the splendid Red Toucan imprint he demonstrates his chops as both improviser and composer.

For a highly unusual instrumentation - the leader on oboe and English horn, Jeb Bishop on trombone, Tim Daisy on percussion, Kurt Johnson on bass (who is in the experimental punk band Lozenge along with Bruckmann), and Jen Clare Paulson on viola - Bruckmann has constructed a half dozen tunes (plus a brief, plucky reharmonized version of Ornette's "Lonely Woman") which combine two seemingly improbable approaches: the post-Vandermark Chicagoan tendency to lace together shifting rhythmic bases and free sections, and a decided New Music influence... Often as not, the band alternates dour drones with bustling grooves (such as the plangent melody strung across jumpy 7/4 in "Boiled Frog").

Bruckmann's pieces are patient constructs that morph slowly and ask the improvisers (who he's very generous about featuring) to build along with the composition rather than blow over or through it. And if the overall mood is - as the opening track title suggests - "Rather Dour," there are more than enough tart improvisational moments and plenty of saucy drumming from Daisy to keep the session vigorous. The cranky, neo-industrial improvisations on "Gearshifts & Parentheticals" testify to that.

One of the finest examples of Wrack's ability to combine turned-up flame with clear-headed attention to texture and space is the brash "Sins of Omission." Bishop tussles with Johnson and Daisy, with energy to spare. But you've got to feel that this band's heart is in the long textural studies like "Mitigating Factors," where the players get to test their extended techniques out even as they work from space and (relative) silence. Daisy, in particular, is a wonder at tuned percussion on this track.

Wrack should be taken seriously, not only as a thoroughly enjoyable album in its own right, but as a document of exciting new directions from some of Chicago's best players. Highly recommended. (Jason Bivins, Dusted magazine)

. . . Following his own sonic path, classically-trained double reedist Kyle Bruckmann seeks to express himself in a very personal way, exclaiming that, yes indeed, the oboe and English horn can be utilized in this seemingly incompatible environment. As Bruckmann himself states in the liners, his aim is "an attempt to create space for my voice and my instrument within an ever-evolving tradition that hovers at the crossroads of other traditions." Such interest in several traditions is firmly demonstrated through Bruckmann's playing experiences, including work with Scott Rosenberg's large ensemble, the punk band Lozenge, and the double reed trio Corvus. Such "illegitimate" music might shock the fuddy-duddies, but for those with open ears, Bruckmann's conception will prove to be a feast.

. . . Bruckmann's compositions are a carefully constructed balancing act between a written hybrid of jazz/classical motifs and improvised interplay. These seven compositions (with one non-original) emphasize a dark, reflective sound that thrives on dynamic variance . . . On Ornette Coleman's "Lonely Woman," the ensemble cuts to the core of the piece in perhaps the most breathtaking version of this song ever recorded (after Ornette, of course).

This is not your typical jazz or improvised music record and for the sheer adventure of it all, as well as the chance to enjoy some accomplished Chicagoans (and one now ex-Chicagoan, the leader), it is a worthy taste of several considerable talents. (Jay Collins, One Final Note)

EKG

EKG is Kyle Bruckmann on oboe and English horn and Ernst Karel on trumpet, each also contributing substantial work on "analog electronics". . . elements fall within range of the "standard" one hears in this area of music (not that there are all too many free oboists around): breath tones, harsh scrapes, key clicks and so on, but they're deployed quite well, serving as salient points affixed to electronic scrims that tend toward the bleak, wind-eroded and metallic. The pieces gradually grow in depth and interest; both 'Days' and 'Seconds' contain compelling passages with a strong cinematic feel to them, the contrast between reed/brass and electronics well balanced within the rough and tumble. Motors churn, heads knock, wires sizzle. Each track maintains interest in a slightly different manner, each repays repeated listenings with newly perceived angles of attack. (Brian Olewnick, bagatellen)

. . . EKG is capable of a langorous lyricism while in other cases this tendency is willfully crushed and ground down into a gritty landscape of fine-grained glass and silt. Open and inviting tones draw the listener in at the same time tenser noisy outbursts work to alienate. Tightly controlled grainy textures splutter to life and dissolve into hovering drones. The sequencing can be jarring (as when the largely open "Days" collides with the claustrophobic "Hours"), but the effect is of an irregular pendulum's swing - a fevered and woozy oscillation through tension and release. (Steve Rybicki, fakejazz)

. . . a set of six austere, slow moving soundscapes in keeping with the prevailing tendency in new improvised music to move away from rapid-fire interplay - improv's free jazz heritage - towards territory more traditionally associated with contemporary classical and electronic music. . . "Object 2" is as much a landmark of the genre as the highly acclaimed releases on Jon Abbey's Erstwhile label. Bruckmann has in recent times preferred to downplay his dazzling virtuosity on the double reed instruments in favour of patient exploration of the microtonal and micro-timbral inflections of long-held tones, which combine with Karel's plaintive trumpet and the grainy analog electronics, blasts of white noise and crackling static to create music of an extraordinary intensity which richly repays repeated listening. (Dan Warburton, Paris Transatlantic Magazine)

. . . Bruckmann and Karel mostly eschew the event-pause-event feel of much extended-technique improvisation, instead creating dense, static-heavy soundscapes that sound a bit like Keith Rowe's recent work, even though Object 2 features a greater number of dramatic changes than a new Rowe album probably would... EKG's music sounds something like a new sort of musique concrète: improv as the whirs and hums of everyday life. . . Bruckmann and Karel are offering new possibilities for improvisation that are far removed from the traditionally melodic, call-and-response moves of free jazz. (Charlie Wilmoth, Dusted magazine)

LOZENGE

“. . . one of the most criminally underrated outfits in alt.rock” (Dan Warburton, Signal to Noise)

Let's be clear: LOZENGE is not all cacophony and things falling apart. They're also capable of quiet and textured group improvisation, and they have a tendency to match crooked, jaunty beats to Kyle's extended melodies and wheezing chords in a way that makes you think you've discovered a rusty man-sized music box that plays the folk dances of slavic countries that don't exist. But cacophony is never far away. In the midst of quiet atmospheres and broken folk dances it's always peeking over somebody's shoulder or waiting impatiently backstage, and is never gone for very long. . .

. . . My best attempt is this: LOZENGE plays frenetic rock music (I know, they disagree) that's structured more like jazz, but which is built on melodies that bear more of a resemblence to Eastern European folk music than rock or jazz. All of this occurs thunderously loudly, then a little quieter - or perhaps almost silently - and then thunderously again. Rhythmically, they rarely have only one thing going on at once. The four instruments might converge on a jarring dance, dissolve into chaos, recombine into a different dance and then one or two might diverge again from the rest like a lazy eye, making you wonder who's going to start following whom. No other group I know of can simultaneously make you want to dance spastically and force you you to stand stock still in tense expectation. (Joe Cannon, Copper Press 13)

entymology

. . . Like German trumpeter Axel Dörner, Bruckmann skillfully manipulates a myriad of scrapes, squeaks, hisses, and multiphonic squiggles that his instruments weren't intended to make. And like British saxophonist Evan Parker, he uses circular breathing and scrupulously precise articulation to generate continuous double streams of high and low pitches, which spiral together like strands of DNA. But unlike many free improvisers, he's not allergic to melody: Entymology includes a couple pensive themes played in lovely, pure tones that betray his rigorous training. (Bill Meyer, Chicago Reader)

The variety of sounds Kyle Bruckmann gets out of his instruments is astonishing. . . What's most important is that, in his search for new sounds, [he] does not sacrifice musicality, which makes Entymology easily recommended to anyone who wants to start apprehending "free improvisation." (Alain Drouot, Jazz Institute of Chicago)

Entymology could have been only a curiosity, something exotic-sounding for the improv crowd, but it goes beyond that. It so happens Kyle Bruckmann is a seasoned improviser with impressive extended technique and peculiar artistic flair. These 13 untitled improvisations aren't exercises: in each one of them, the improviser uses many techniques, varies moods and captivates. . . Entymology is an enchanting experience that expands the possibilities (and the comprehension) of the double reed family. Strongly recommended. (François Couture, All Music Guide)

Kyle Bruckmann has incredible control over the musical vocabulary and a natural inclination towards microscopic analyses. . . Finally, a worthy voice that will go on to supplant those who have been 'improvising' the same old idea for too long. (Jacopo Andreini, All About Jazz/Italy, translation: Lou Mallozzi)

. . . Though much of entymology will have you wondering how the hell he gets those sounds, a couple of pieces are played "straight", i.e. with unabashed lyricism and evident respect for the instrument's venerable tradition. . . As always with impressive solo debuts, I'm led to speculate what the performer might do in the company of others. . . I have the feeling we'll be hearing more from Kyle Bruckmann in years to come. (Dan Warburton, Paris Transatlantic Magazine)

and

. . . In the light of recent developments in oboe technique called for by younger composers, it's clear the instrument is perfectly suited to the demands of today's improvised music. In the hands of a great player, it's as agile as any clarinet, and just as capable of multiphonics and extended techniques as the saxophone. On the strength of his second album, Chicago based Kyle Bruckmann is up to the task.

And is a collection of duets pitting his oboe, cor, suona (a Chinese double-reed instrument) and raita against the cream of Chicago improvisors. . . Where Bruckmann's first album showcased his virtuoso playing, And reveals he's just as capable of virtuoso listening. He can take on Zerang and Bishop in the outer reaches of instrumental technique; craft beautiful and coherent melodic lines with the clarinettists; hit multiphonics dead on as cleanly as John Butcher; and if need be blow the hell out of the upper register - quite a feat on a double-reed instrument - to produce a screaming high end. All this before going the distance with the ebullient Weasel Walter in a final round worthy of Peter Brötzmann. (Dan Warburton, The Wire)

Interviews

Read James Taylor's 11/06 interview following the release of Intents & Purposes at All About Jazz.

Read Tom Djll's 9/05 Signal to Noise article on Bruckmann (PDF file).

Read Peter Margasak's 10/03 Chicago Reader Post No Bills article on Bruckmann's Chicago swansong.

An old LOZENGE email interview is archived at FUBARM, and a more recent and comprehensive one is available in Issue No. 13 of Copper Press, available here as a PDF file.

EKG was given the opportunity to rant about some favorite records in Dusted Magazine's Listed feature.

Bruckmann and Kurt Johnson speak with Woody Sullender of Dead CEO about the gamut of their musical activities here.

For a PDF file of additional print media clippings, click here.

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