On Friday, Nov. 16, the Holland-based ICP Jazz Orchestra passed through the Twin Cities as part of its North American tour, stopping at the Walker’s Northrop Auditorium for two evening sets. The first set offered an odd mixture of blues-infused swing and lyrical melody, cacophonous atonality, as well as musical and theatrical humor. It was a night to remember, both for the audience members on their feet at the end of the first set lobbying for an encore, and for the fifteen or so people audacious enough to get up and walk out mid-concert. The reactions varied wildly; the music varied wildly. In short, there was some of everything.

The ICP Orchestra was founded in 1967 by pianist Misha Mengelberg, saxophonist Willem Breuker, and the free-spirited drummer and veteran of the ECM label, Han Bennink. It was the first European collective for improvised music, and has been evolving steadily since its inception, spawning a new vein of jazz and gaining somewhat of a cult following throughout the states. Though Willem Breuker was busy with his own group, The Willem Breuker Kollektief, both Mengelberg and Bennink were alive and kicking on Friday night, the fearless Bennink more so than the subdued Mengelberg.

The nine-piece band featured some unusual instrumentation, utilizing the lushness of the cello and violin to complement the four horns and rhythm section. The selections ranged from an Ellington slow blues to up-tempo free-jazz romps, the former more successful than the latter. The tremendous energy and spirit that the band brought to the stage can be attributed to Bennink, whose personality was as noticeable as his virtuosic chops and impeccable timekeeping. His stage antics ranged from enthusiastic yelling during energetic solos to bizarre gibberish in the quieter moments.

Bennink also made use of several props: a paper bag, a match, and a shovel. The paper bag and the shovel appeared separately, and at various times throughout the evening. He walked around with the paper bag on his foot at one point, later decorating his drum set with it. The snow shovel functioned as both a drum stick (yes, that’s right; I don’t know how his drum set survived) and as a percussive object, on which he banged his normal drum sticks. About two-thirds of the way through the set, the three objects came together in one great moment of creative wackiness. Bennink set the paper bag on his ride cymbal, lit it on fire with the match, walked away while it was burning, and then returned with the shovel to put it out, slamming his ride cymbal and then the paper bag as it fell to the floor, still slightly burning.

All things considered, it was a very enjoyable concert. Though the extended sections of free-form jazz became slightly excessive, the ICP more than made up for it with their humor and lack of pretension. If this type of experimentalism is up your alley, then aim to see them next time they pass through the Cities. And please write the arts section of your local college newspaper and tell the editor she rules for getting me free tickets to live jazz.