What comes to mind when you think of education?
An institution of learning? A place where you discover, practice, study and discern subjects and skills, cast upon you from teachers, lectures and textbooks? Are you considering the concept literally, or from a deeper, more practical place of reverence? A world you create to understand the one that surrounds you, as much as it lives deep within your inner being. A place to expand, to create, to cherish and to be still. Forever evolving, shaping and transpiring.
Music is a language derived from this evolution, and one that is championed in the affluent mind of Sydney artist Jacques Emery. Born into this magical sonic landscape, Emery has allowed his curiosity to guide him unto his deep resonance with sound. Having graduated from the Sydney Conservatorium with a Bachelor of (Jazz) Performance, he has made the double bass an extension of himself, carving his name as one of the most astonishing instrumentalists and composers in Sydney.
Yet, despite the formalities of aforementioned studies, Emery nomadically teaches us the art of unlearning, whilst staying true to himself and his craft. Pulling his instrument away from assumption, compositions and improvisations are led with undenying intuitive force, with moments captured in an array of significant recordings; both under his own name and within the lineups of many projects, splintered all over our city.
Whether he’s pulling together seven year old forgotten iPhone recordings from the past (his EP 2014), or releasing the music of peers (Hinano Fujisaki, SOFT SPOT, Jack Stoneham amongst others) under his People Sound portal, or enchanting audiences with a myriad of collaborative, improvised sessions, Jacques Emery is consistently shaping the magic of sound to shift the stark nature of reality.
Connecting with the impeccable force that is Sydney Improvised Music Association (SIMA) for the fifth instalment of their Jazz: NOW series last week, he restructured the ensemble for his project The Wellspring. It’s an incredibly human and vulnerable body of work that offers a cyclical theme to the everyday person. An album to be released in coming months, its candid generosity in idiosyncratic moments allow not only each instrument its own individual character, but the application of a string plucked or a key pressed its own small, sweet, sentient role. An offering so personal, Jacques says, “It puts the listener right in the place that it's happening.”
“There’s bits that are a little bit out of tune or where the tone of the instruments are breaking down or cracking. There’s lots of these raw moments where they're not super polished and don’t conform to a certain type of aesthetic where, maybe you’d think, “No, that’s a mistake that should be corrected”. In a different style of music you’d do that, but I’ve always liked those little details.”
Words by Hannah Galvin