When South African pianist Abdullah Ibrahim plays solo, the effect is not unlike the blast of an entire big band. His style is riotous and colourful, thick with sprawling chordal textures and jubilantly stated themes. Hearing him actually play with a band feels doubly exciting, particularly when that band are his old collaborators, the 18-piece German NDR Big Band.
In Manchester the NDR joined Ibrahim in a romp through his back catalogue, bringing old tunes to life and drawing us all a little bit closer to the sounds and spirit of Africa. Ibrahim dedicated the first number to Cape Town, "the birthplace that runs through my veins". The band surged forth with some unearthly dissonance before breaking out into a sunny roar of melody. The busy arrangement evoked the bustle and colour of an African marketplace, a babble of sound in which Ibrahim's piano was rather lost.
Redressing the balance, he began the second piece alone. The piano melted under his fingers, oozing pure sensuality and the clearest tone imaginable. A stealthy conga rhythm reintroduced the band, who prowled ominously around the central melody and for the next 10 minutes created the distinct impression that something awful was about to happen.
Ibrahim's tunes don't sound composed, they just seem to exist as naturally as the birds and the trees. The members of the NDR lived up to their reputation by turning in some exquisite solos. Flutes twittered like birds, drums rolled like thunder. As a whole, it was the musicians' sheer versatility that impressed the most. Perfectly at home with Ibrahim's undulating African rhythms, they sounded American to the bone on the blaring Duke Ellington tribute Duke 88, while elsewhere they offered textures and dynamics that would have added lustre to any European orchestral score.
But Ibrahim could not resist an opportunity to show us that he could do it all by himself. He opened the second half with a dazzling solo that melded blues ostinatos and complex rhythms with an almost Chopin-like elegance. Filled with epic drama, the piece sounded not so much like a history of piano playing as a history of the world.
