We love Québec City a lot.

Apart from superb musician­ship, Halifax’s Gypsophilia has staked its tents on several musi­cal fault lines which are trou­bled from moment to moment by subterranean tremors of jazz-pop, gypsy jazz, Parisian cafe pop, klezmer and unpre­dictable raw creativity from all seven of them.

While every one of their en­thusiastic fans knows in their bones who and what they are, the band continues to resist definition eight years after it chose Django Reinhardt as its stylistic launching pad.

There is something unfin­ished about them which is quix­otically attention-grabbing.

They do display polish, espe­cially in this concert, but you never know what the next mo­ment will bring. They never lost Django since the started up in 2004, but now his style rubs along comfortably with all the others like pebbles in a cement­mixer.

All we can do by way of defi­nition is to identify the quark­like fields of musical atoms they breeze over. And admire them, of course, while their happiness­maddened fans, awash in bliss, writhe about as loosely as long grass in a high wind.

Friday night, in a Symphony Nova Scotia’s Maritime Pops concert, the band finally got a shot at the Cohn stage with ac­cess to the best back-up musi­cians in the nation. As a soft­seater, there was no chance in the Cohn of dancing to their tunes, except internally. De­prived of this outlet for their energies, the sold-out crowd discovered with ears alone what first-class players Gypsophilia are.

The concert began with SNS playing Bela Bartok’s Roumanian Dances, very romantically under resident conductor Shalom Bard’s direction, but also very brilliantly, very colourfully, and very precisely.

Bard hit his stride in this per­formance and continued for the rest of the evening to confidently capture the Gypsophilia spirit in arrangements of their original tunes by Chris Palmer, Rebecca Pellet and David Christensen, as well as Gypsophilia’s bass player Adam Fine, trumpeter Matt Myer and their formidable pianist Sageev Oore.

Oore applies classical tech­nique where it counts with Lisz­tian flourishes and top-speed rhythmic riffs as powerful as a full-fisted, 10-fingered Rach­maninoff finale. His contribution of an original premiere he called Happy Polka, arranged for piano, band and full orchestra, gave a full workout to SNS’s Christine Feierabend on piccolo and flutist Patricia Creighton.

Guitarist Ross Burns enter­tained as emcee and contributed a tribute to his 100-year-old grandmother, a sweet tune called Opa. Guitarist Nick Wilkinson gave us a craggy tune called Skirmish, and guitarist Alec Frith, one of the most naturally musical players in the band, played bluesy solos and wrote an engaging tune he called Super Bowl Party.

Matt Myer contributed a win­some ditty called Valse Povero and kept the band focused with wonderfully integrated trumpet solos and riffs and Hammond B3 fills from his Nord keyboard.

Bassist Adam Fine anchored the band with punchy bass-lines and a bowed solo in his original tune, Goncourt.

If Gypsophilia could be said to have a soul, it would be the easy jazzy musicality of violinist Gina Burgess who channeled Ste­phane Grapelli from tune to tune. She too has classical chops, which showed up in a subtle double-stop passage in Opa, straight out of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto.

Her original tune, Zachary’s Czardas, was as highly coloured by Gypsy violinistics as anyone could wish for. Her remarkably rich, smooth and polished sound, and her lively, inventive solos and fills even turned a few heads in the violin section of the orchestra, all of whom know her anyway since she subs-in from time to time on SNS concerts.

I had moved to Halifax for the second time in 2004 and had heard of these gypsy jazz shows that were happening in an old church. It felt like one of those secret underground happenings that I had always read about but had never had the chance to be a part of. In the dimly lit church, the music summoned another era of Django Reinhardt inspired string bands. Gypsophilia was the band and the crowd were dancing like they didn’t know how but didn’t care either. Musical prowess flew from every player of the group as they skipped and ran over scales and old european melodies. The music that bowed and picked it’s way over the audience had a power that compelled people to suddenly add gypsy-jazz to the list of music they liked.

Now, 7 years later, Constellation is their 3rd release and demonstrates giant steps. Recorded at Hotel2Tango studios in Montreal with the group’s 3 guitars, Double Bass, violin, and trumpet/piano as the instrumentation, the diversity of inspiration jukeboxes through the album while being held up by a mastery of musicianship. The busy swinging notes and jostling of solos makes this album undeniably jazz, however, the infusions of eastern european folk and klezmer elevate it beyond a lone category. The fuzzed guitar on tracks like “skirmish” and apocalyptic synths on “Valse Povero” show a subtle touch of experiment to the album while mournful french pop weeps from “Super Bowl party” and “Bercy” has a Curtis Mayfield flair.

The virtuosity of their live performance is captured in these live off the floor sessions in clarity and character, making Constellation one of the best Jazz albums of the year.

…What do you do to follow up an award-winning, chart-topping album? When you’re Gypsophilia, you just keep on plugging away. After the release of the 2009 album Sa-ba-da-OW!, Gypsophilia spent countless hours, days and months on tour, promoting the music, and reached new audiences with its distinctive sound. The cohesion that is present in Gypsophilia’s playing—due to years of touring together—is instinctive. The songs play like conversations and choruses, with everyone speaking the same language.

The result of those conversations is the new album Constellation.

It’s produced by Howard Bilerman, who has previously worked with a who’s-who of Canadian indie darlings, such as Arcade Fire, Stars, Basia Bulat and Bell Orchestre. It seems that Bilerman knows how to speak Gypsophilia’s musical shorthand and we—the Gypsophilia-loving public—are better for it. The production value Bilerman brings to the group is one of great intimacy, with strings at the forefront when needed, while horns declare their intentions when it is their turn to say what they feel. The album plays like a beautiful opera sung across musical genres, times and places.

After a recent, brief tour of Ontario and Quebec, the band has come home to celebrate the release of its new album. They will be playing two shows, including a masquerade ball at the Seahorse on Friday, and a release party at The Carleton on the November 1. We—the Gypsophilia-loving public —are ever grateful. –

Bien que le groupe soit ancré dans les traditions manouches et swing, Gypsophilia a enregistré cet album au studio montréalais hotel2tango avec Howard Bilerman (Arcade Fire, Lhasa). Cette présence permet de faire ressortir l’aspect rock de la musique du groupe avec un orgue ou des guitares amplifiées. Gypsophilia propose une arrière-pensée indé ce qui donne une saveur actuelle au groupe.

“Constellation” est un véritable tour de force; sans batteur, la section rythmique se démarque et elle fait preuve d’originalité. L’instrumentation et le contexte demeurent moderne et s’éloignent rarement du jazz manouche: contrebasse, piano, violon, guitares acoustiques. C’est ce qui fascine chez Gypsophilia, le couplet de morceaux comme “Bercy” possède son lot d’improvisation et ses rythmes caractéristiques, mais on y retrouve un refrain pop. “Skirmish” possède des caractéristiques rock tandis “Valse Povero” démontre une progression étonnante; on passe d’une valse légère et traditionnelle à un rock expérimental. L’enchaînement est tout naturel.

Par ailleurs, Gypsophilia n’excelle pas que dans l’originalité. “Montreal” démontre à quel point les sept membres sont talentueux et habile de leur dix doigts. Leur son est complet et entier. Chacune des chansons de “Constellation” est entraînante et marquante. Le groupe est si subtile dans sa façon d’expérimenter qu’on ne peut pas les accuser de parodier un style musical en particulier.