Keep Going To Get There
by Wolfgang Sandner
Christof Lauer’s „Odyssea sonorum“
Jazz is unpredictable. More so than any other music genres. That is what makes it also so fascinating. No one can foresee what will happen during an improvisation. Technique alone does not guarantee real jazz artistry. For that reason, musicians often go to extraordinary lengths to break the cycle of creativity between adherence to the tried and tested and moving forward to the hitherto unheard. It is usually collective processes that bring exciting new things to light. But even the most sociable of jazz musicians occasionally need something completely different: self-imposed seclusion, artistic solitude, in order to literally come to their senses.
There are as many individual ways of doing this as there are jazz personalities. Occasionally one of them goes at night with his instrument to stand on Williamsburg Bridge between Brooklyn and Manhattan and plays to the accompaniment of the rolling syncopations of cars, subways and barges on the river. Between 1960 and 1961 Sonny Rollins often stood there in a corner with his saxophone, invisible to those crossing the gigantic suspension bridge in New York on foot, and his playing was as if the steel constructions of the bridge themselves were raising their robust voices. Williamsburg Bridge was Sonny‘s church, a mystical place where he came to terms with his music. Were they brilliant pieces of jazz or endlessly varying études? Only the wind knows, blowing stoically as ever across the East River.
The bass player Barre Phillips also experienced phases of soloistic purism. He once described what he felt in such a phase: When the curtain goes up or the equipment in the studio is switched on it is time to suspend all other mental activities and to become one big ear. Phillips was a master of listening inside himself. This is apparent on „Journal Violone“ from 1968, the first solo album by a bass player in the history of jazz, followed by half a dozen further solo recordings until the year 2020: works of art with articulatory nuances and tonal differentiation, undisturbed by any interference from other musicians.
Yes, and then there is also the sometimes seemingly autistic master pianist Keith Jarrett. Like Glenn Gould, he would have preferred to conduct interviews with himself, to prevent his words being wrongly interpreted. He played a great many of his concerts and recordings – certainly not the most unimportant ones – without a partner. Jarrett was a born soloist. Only thus – alone on the stage or in the studio – was it possible for him to pursue his ideal that he called “free playing”, an improvisation with tools, but without material, free solo piano playing, developed purely from the inspiration of the moment, completely without specifications, be it composition, chord progression, head arrangement or other a priori ideas that can be converted into sound.
„Odyssea sonorum“, Christof Lauer’s solo journey of sound into the mythical regions of his tenor and soprano saxophones can easily be associated with one of those unorthodox solo endeavours undertaken by jazz musicians.
Looking back on his career, it seems like a necessary aesthetic pendulum swing. From 1993 until 2018 Lauer belonged to the NDR Big Band in Hamburg where he also had the opportunity to play in what might be called chamber music groups, for example with the United Jazz and Rock Ensemble, the Jazz Ensemble of the Hessischer Rundfunk, the Albert Mangelsdorff quintet or trios and duets with other musicians. Nevertheless, it is not surprising that, when he returned to Frankfurt after such a long time in Hamburg, he exchanged the tightly laced corset of the Big Band for the freedom of a lone musical journey. Only the way he did it was extremely unusual and is reminiscent of the examples of Sonny Rollins, Barre Phillips and Keith Jarrett, not that we can speak of a direct influence.
The Alte Nikolaikirche on the Römerberg in Frankfurt now became for Christof Lauer something like the Williamsburg Bridge was for Sonny Rollins; incomparable in their specific functions, but clearly places where musicians could find themselves. To this end, Lauer has also chosen, like Keith Jarrett, to perform freely, without specific sound and form specifications, in order to listen deeply within himself as naturally as Barre Phillips and thereby become a great ear.
Out of the spontaneous here and now, he developed one tone from another into an intense monologue that always appealed to a circle of attentive listeners who, either deliberately or rather by chance, had found their way from the noisy public space of the Römerberg to the seclusion of the church interior. Free admission, usually on the first Monday of every month; always at 5:00 in the afternoon; announced as meditations, later simply as improvisations, since the year 2019; a fixed ritual; so natural over time, as if it belonged to all the other ceremonial acts and immutable characteristics of this historic place.
„Odyssea sonorum“, the title of his musical explorations, reminds us of the fact that one can very quickly get lost in the boundless soundscape of music and even in sounds and noises not yet been shaped into music if one commits oneself to absolute freedom, trusting only one’s instruments and dispenses with other control systems through all the depths and shallows of the realm of acoustic phenomena. Christof Lauer has released three musical documents of his explorations for this production. They come from three different performances in 2025: Odyssea sonorum“ with the tenor saxophone on June 2nd; „Pinus pinea“ with the soprano saxophone on October 6th and „This is for Heinz“ on August 11th, again with the tenor saxophone.
The examples from three independent exploratory sonic journeys should not necessarily be thought of retrospectively as a multi-movement solo concert. But a consistent creative intent is evident when, for example, the principle of thematic development based on harmonically broken motifs that are continually varied, enlarged, played around with and fanned out recurs as a formative element in all parts. Some melodic figures or sound gestures appear again and again, like chimeras, as if Christof Lauer suddenly remembers how he discovered them months ago and as if they now fondly pay him, an old acquaintance, their respect.
This unusual production also confirms that Christof Lauer is a phenomenal stylist, a sound artist without boundaries or limits, but still an aesthete who respects his instrument, never in danger of devouring, smothering, abusing it as an inhalation device or even – as seemed necessary to some radical expressionists in the historic destructive phase of jazz – smashing it to pieces. Even in the freest moments the will is apparent that he wants to bring something to a meaningful close, not to let anything unravel, to keep the balance. Another great saxophonist could confirm this: Heinz Sauer, Albert Mangelsdorff’s brilliant companion, was in the audience at Christof Lauer’s concert on October 6th 2025. „This is for Heinz“ is dedicated to him.