When, in Canto XXXII of “The Inferno” (The Divine Comedy, translated by John Ciardi), the medieval Italian poet Dante Alighieri requests that the Muses “assist my verse, / that the word may be the mirror of the thing” his desire is to find the precise language that reflects the perceivable reality – the inherent qualities and character – of his subject matter. This is quite the opposite of 20^th century author Gertrude Stein’s attitude, when (in Lectures in America) she says “I became more and more excited about how words which were the words that made whatever I looked at look like itself were not the words that had in them any quality of description.” Her idiosyncratic organization of language redesigns a personal expression of reality as did the Cubist painters visually; much of the poetry Stein developed over one hundred years ago remains controversial, and largely misunderstood, for its fragmented or repetitious syntax, ambiguous word combinations, collage-like juxtaposition of seemingly unrelated images, and puzzling, often enigmatic depictions of people, events, and things.

Yet these same unconventional and challenging procedures account for her work’s unique charm, unpredictability, and fascination. On the surface the words may appear to be chosen at random, intentionally ignoring rules of grammar, continuity, signification, or specific representation, however her frequent use of unexplained puns, homonyms (in XLVIII, is “polish” meant as in “polish the furniture” or “Polish” from Poland?), translations from and phonetically misspelled foreign words, transcribed conversations, and private associations suggests a playful, if radical approach to form as individual vision. One of her favorite ways to re-direct meaning and context is to divide words into syllabically-derived new phrases (such as “sew up” from “soap,” “won door” from “wonder,” “new sense” from “nuisance,” and “let us” from “lettuce”). Whether carefully constructed or spontaneously improvised, it’s apparent that she often plays it by ear, that is, her process allows the sound of words to echo their own relationships and combinations. From this derives a “sound poetry,” where the musical qualities of language take precedence over a singular meaning.

All of which explains the attraction of Stein’s poetry to the Swiss reedman/improviser/composer Christoph Gallio. With a lifelong broad-ranging interest in the arts, since obtaining a master’s degree in Transdisciplinarity from the Zurich University of the Arts he has for the last forty-plus years performed in collaborations with dancers, visual artists, and adventurous musicians from around the world (including the ongoing trio Day + Taxi, which he founded in 1988) with an emphasis on the nature of free improvisation. But a special affinity to the qualities of modern and contemporary poetry has led to his compositional settings of texts by such distinctive writers as the Austrian experimentalist Friederike Mayröcker and the French Fluxus artist Robert Filliou among others. Although familiar with Gertrude Stein’s work previously, it was a 1993 German language publication of selections from Stein’s posthumous collection Bee Time Vine that inspired him to begin corresponding his melodic impulses to the concise, abstract designs of her poetry. In 2010 and  then again later throughout the period of covid isolation he renewed his interest and worked on setting the long sequence “Yet Dish.” A new ensemble was established primarily to perform the intricate score, and this recording was the result.

Unpublished in her lifetime, “Yet Dish” is remarkable in its dense intensity and creative confidence. There are clues to Stein’s intent hidden throughout; Alice B. Toklas once told Virgil Thomson that “Yet Dish” was a transformation of “Yiddish” and thus could possibly be related to both Toklas and Stein coming from Jewish families. But Stein’s quote cited above confirms her lack of feeling for emotional description; words cannot substitute for the thing itself. By focusing on the sound of the language units (incorporating the familiar poetic techniques of alliteration, rhyme, assonance, and rhythmic phrasing in mercurial fashion) and the visual structures of the word patterns on the page (see especially the symmetry of XI and XXXVIII, and the brick wall repetition of XLIII), the individual sections of the poem become objects in themselves, rather than memory-triggered descriptions of an experience. Gallio’s music shrewdly reinforces the edges and angles of Stein’s abrupt rhythmic flow, gleefully renders the staggered wit and judicious humor (yes, humor) of her phrasing, and insinuates small jolts of instrumental color as interludes and introductions. Like Virgil Thomson’s famous operas on Stein’s texts, Gallio never overwhelms the words, but simplifies the melodic material with his own twisting contours, to underscore the brilliance of the poetry.

“To me there is no past or future in art. If a work cannot always live in the present it must not be considered at all,” as Picasso asserted in 1923. If it is therefore not necessary for Christoph Gallio’s concept to reclaim Gertrude Stein’s vision from the past, here they have met on an equal footing, and enhanced each the other.

Art Lange, Chicago, July 2025

Non è la prima volta che il sassofonista svizzero, contralto e soprano, si dedica all’opera di Gertrude Stein, poetessa e mecenate americana in Europa, si era nel lontano 1996, quella volta insieme ai musicisti americani, la cantante Ellen Christi e la ritmica di William Parker al contrabbasso e Rashied Ali alla batteria.

Questa volta ci sono, oltre al leader, Sonia Loenne alla voce, Vito Cadonau al contrabbasso e Flo Hufschmid alla batteria e alle percussioni, tutti insieme a seguire Yet Dish, una delle opere letterarie della Stein, qui recitata per intero, con intorno i commenti al sax di Gallio e della ritmica, un incontro ben riuscito.

È un feeling speciale a legare i musicisti intorno a questa opera letteraria, ai suoi tempi di avanguardia senza compromessi, fra assoli di rilievo ed il procedere in collettivo dei tre ad accompagnare in modo paritetico la recitazione di Sonia Loenne. Come sempre Gallio si fa notare per la bellezza dei suoi brevi assoli, ma è comunque tutto il contesto a non presentare sbavature, a seguire con precisione e coerenza un opera complessa di suo, tutto appare in sintonia, con le idee di Gallio e i versi di Gertrude Stein. Di una bellezza unica, fuori dai canoni, fra recitazione e assoli di un trio di jazzisti.

Voto: 9/10

Unpublished in Stein's lifetime, "Yet Dish" is remarkable in its dense intensity and creative confidence. Gallio never overwhelms the words, but simplifies the melodic material with his own twisting contours, to underscore the brilliance of the poetry.

Inspired by Gertrude Stein's experimental poem Yet Dish, Swiss saxophonist Christoph Gallio leads an ensemble with vocalist Sonia Loenne, bassist Vito Cadonau, and percussionist Flo Hufschmid in a nuanced exploration of language and sound, transforming Stein's rhythmic abstractions into vivid musical dialogues where wit, structure, and spontaneity intertwine with poetic precision.
 

Christoph Gallio propose un recueil de délicieuses miniatures vocales et musicales sur les poèmes de Gertrude Stein.

Anyone approaching this album unawares needs to be warned that its playing time of 36' 34" is divided into sixty nine tracks ranging in length from six seconds to a minute and 41 seconds, and that the tracks are labelled as Roman numerals from one to 69 with 10 of the track titles being extended by dedications to unidentified individuals (for example, "XXXIV to Sisa Wandeler"). For anyone keen to know more, the track titles are printed on the rear sleeve. Given the album's release day, this is not an elaborate joke...

The clue to this mystery is in big blue letters on the front of this album sleeve—"Yet Dish" "Gertrude Stein." Born in Pennsylvania in 1874, Gertrude Stein was a renowned American novelist, poet and playwright who moved to Paris in 1903, and made France her home until her death in 1946. While in {jny: Paris}} she hosted a salon where leading figures of art and literature, such as Pablo Picasso, Henri Matisse, Ernest Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald, would meet. "Yet Dish" is the title of one of Stein's poems, which was unpublished during her lifetime; it has 69 verses. A copy of that poem in its entirety is included with this album. One of Stein's often repeated quotes, "Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose" is very similar to this album's title, "Stone Is A Rose Is A Stone Is a Stone."

The Swiss saxophonist, improviser and composer Christoph Gallio was apparently attracted to Stein's writing by her "sound poetry" in which the musical qualities of language are more important than their meaning; examples of this are her use of "new sense" instead of "nuisance," "sew up" instead of "soap" and "won door" instead of "wonder." This album presents Stein's poetry set to Gallio's music of unique and rare beauty. In 2010 and later through the period of covid isolation, Gallio worked on setting "Yet Dish" to music. He assembled a new ensemble primarily to perform his intricate score; it comprised Gallio himself on soprano and alto saxophones, Sonia Loenne's voice, Vito Cadonau on double bass and Flo Hufschmid on drums and percussion. The album was recorded on 12th and 13th May 2022 at Hardstudios in Winterthur. It is a measure of this quartet's success that they can make tracks lasting a few seconds sound beguiling again and again. Dating back to Stein herself and including everyone mentioned here, this album is a collective triumph for all concerned.

Gertrude Stein war eine Rose, war Stein, war eine Rose. Bis heute dafür bewundert (zumindest in Highbrow-Zirkeln), dass sie der Herrschaft des nationalen, völkischen, ideologischen Wir die kubistisch-tautologische Formalistik und privatsprachliche Kryptik ihrer 'Entities' denkbar konträr entgegenstellte. Bis heute bestaunt für ihre Humpty-Dumpty-ness: „Wenn ich ein Wort verwende, dann bedeutet es genau, was ich es bedeuten lasse, und nichts anderes.“ Die modrigen Pilze von Hofmannsthal als Steine. Als ein auf Rechtschreibung und Grammatik pfeifendes Neusprech, das jedoch Bedeutung nicht pervertiert, sondern aufhebt und 'musikalisiert'. Gallios Stoff sind die LXIX mit „Yet Dish“ [Yiddish] überschriebenen Einzeiler und halb gereimten, alliterativen Miniverse aus Steins Nachlass. Verse wie: (III) Never so round. / A is a guess and a piece. / A is a sweet cent sender. / A is a kiss slow cheese. / A is for age jet. Zeilen wie: (LXI) Catch as catch as coal up. (LXII) Necklaces, neck laces, necklaces, neck laces. (LXIII) Little in in in in. (LXIV) Next or Sunday, next or sunday check. (LXV) Wide in swim, wide in swim pansy. (LXVI) Next to hear next to hear old boat seak, old boat seak next to hear (LXVII) Ape pail ape pail to glow. Schon vor knapp 30 Jahren huldigte er ihr mit „À Gertrude Stein“, gefolgt von Vertonungen von Robert Filliou (mit Mösiöblö) oder Friederike Mayröcker (mit Day & Taxi). Nun erklingen, Anton Weberns karge Kürze noch kappend, kunstliederlich verjazzte Kobolde, extravagant intoniert mit Soprano- & Altosax, Kontrabass, Drums. Angestimmt von Sonia Loenne, die sich im Rainald Brederling Quintett, dem Duo Bureau Bureau und mit Aino Salto einen Namen gemacht hat. Mit der perfekten Zunge für Steins kuriosen, wortspielerischen Nonsense und Gallios kollegiale Whimsiness. Was macht sie da nur vor dem getragenen XVIII? Ohne quecksilbrige Intervallsprünge und kesse Kürzel geht bei dieser quicken Harlekinistik aus pointierten, spinnerten, sogar krawalligen Miniatürchen gar nichts. Wie Gallio da einmal mehr und mit Loenne besonders bezaubernd Sophistication auf das von Steve Lacy und Irene Aebi schwindelerregend gespannte Hochseil liftet, ist atemberaubend. [BA 131 rbd]