The Jazz Composer's Orchestra

The Jazz Composer's Orchestra is a sprawling chunk of prime sixties avant-garde jazz, masterminded by composer, theorist, and trumpeter Michael Mantler. Reissued by ECM in 1973, The Jazz Composer's Orchestra was born from the ethos of collaboration and experimentation that defined the late 1960s New York scene, and reflects Mantler’s vision of jazz as both a compositional and improvisational force. The album is a quasi-symphonic journey through the outer edges of free jazz, with Mantler’s arrangements being vast and orchestral, often bordering on chaos - yet they retain a sense of intentionality that grounds the work.

The core of the project is The Jazz Composer's Orchestra itself, an ensemble co-founded by Mantler and Carla Bley (the pair were married during this period), which brings together a who’s who of avant-garde giants: Don Cherry, Cecil Taylor, Roswell Rudd, Gato Barbieri, and Pharoah Sanders, to name just a few. Born in Vienna in 1943, Mantler emerged as one of the key theoreticians of free jazz. A classically trained trumpeter and composer, he moved to the United States in the early ’60s to study at the Berklee College of Music. Mantler quickly became immersed in the avant-garde scene, relocating to New York City, where he co-founded the Jazz Composer’s Orchestra Association with Bley. In a broad sense, Mantler took the Third Stream innovations of Gunther Schuller in the fifties (the cross-pollination of jazz with classical composition) a step further, loosening the orchestrations to be less straitjacketed by dots on the page.

From the outset, the album establishes a distinct tone: dark, brooding, and confrontational. Tracks like “Communications #8” exemplify Mantler’s ability to juxtapose lush, dissonant horn sections with frenetic, unrestrained soloing. The solos themselves are standout moments, particularly those by Gato Barbieri (before he softened his style and started actually shifting units), Cecil Taylor and Pharoah Sanders, whose contributions are extraordinarily visceral.

For this writer, Pharoah Sanders’s tenor saxophone solo on the short “Preview” is the album’s moment of peak madness, embodying the full range of spiritual and guttural qualities that defined his playing during his formative years. Sanders’s interplay with Mantler’s dense orchestration creates a tension that feels almost gothic in its sense of dread. A friend once compared the sound coming out of Sanders’s horn to an ostrich being strangled, which is a pretty accurate description of the terror it conveys, all the while being whisked along by Mantler’s barbaric orchestrations, which come crashing to a close after just three and a half minutes. Put simply, there’s never been anything quite as obnoxious or compelling as “Preview,” either before or since. You're relieved when it's over, yet ready for another ride ASAP.

The centrepiece is the 34-minute, two-part composition “Communications #11,” a monumental work that pitches Cecil Taylor’s piano against the full orchestra. It opens with an ominous brass fanfare before launching into a series of improvisations that range from introspective to anarchic. In a sense, it heralded the next phase of Taylor’s stylistic evolution, when his unique take on free jazz transforms into a universe entirely his own. At times it’s almost as if he’s channelling the grandeur of Rachmaninoff through those huge, clanging chords that he’s bashing out, but abstracted into something incredibly new and exciting.

While the album’s ambition is undeniable, its density can be overwhelming, so it’s certainly not an everyday listen. Mantler’s compositions demand close attention, and the lack of conventional structure or groove may alienate listeners accustomed to more traditional jazz forms. However, for those willing to engage with its chaos and complexity, The Jazz Composer's Orchestra offers a rewarding experience.