Cinema Soloriens’ spiritual sound and vision

Sun Ra saxophonist Marshall Allen and filmmaker James Harrar embrace the unknown

James Harrar remembers the first time he spoke with Marshall Allen. It was Christmas Eve 1993. The Sun Ra Arkestra was on break in the midst of a double-header playing a night of swinging hard bop and free jazz at the original Knitting Factory on Manhattan’s Lower East Side. The band’s leader and founding member, Sun Ra (born Herman Blount), had died in May of that year at age 79. Tenor sax player John Gilmore had since taken lead over the group.

Allen, the Arkestra’s alto sax player, was sitting at the bar between sets. “I remember saying to him, ‘I would offer to buy you a drink, but the bar probably covers your tab,’” Harrar says. “I’ll never forget, he laughed and said to me, ‘The bar don’t cover shit!’”

Harrar, who lives in Douglasville, Ga., and is a lifelong admirer of Sun Ra’s cosmic philosophies and musical spirit, struck up a conversation with Allen when he simply asked, “What do you do?” The answer, however, wasn’t so simple. Harrar, 44, has spent much of his life honing a distinct style of “visual poems,” as he describes them; intimate though completely abstract silent films and videos that build around themes of spirituality, nature, perception, ritual, and sensuality. Following Sun Ra’s death in ‘93, Harrar created a 16-millimeter film as an homage, titled For Sun Ra. When he told Allen about it that night at the Knitting Factory, he was invited to come visit the house in Philadelphia’s Germantown neighborhood where the Sun Ra Arkestra has lived since in 1968.

Weeks later, Harrar traveled to Germantown to screen some of his films for Allen in the Arkestra’s rehearsal space. Once the film reels started rolling, the chemistry in the room was undeniable. Marshall began singing spontaneous melodies that went along with the structures of the films. Percussionist James Jackson joined them and scatted along, commenting on how much Harrar’s homage to Sun Ra reminded him of the group’s song “Sleeping Beauty.”

Later, Allen began composing material to go accompany Harrar’s films; one of these pieces became the Arkestra’s late-era standard, “Better Music (Will Create a Better World).”

Their meeting that day was the beginning of a 22-year-and-counting partnership that culminated with the group Cinema Soloriens. Together, Harrar and Allen share musical ideas and learn from each other while exploring the imagery that unfolds throughout Harrar’s films.

With titles such as Prasad at the Mandir, Triad, and The Invisible College, Harrar crafts short, visual journeys bound together by thematic sequences of colors, swirling shapes, and seemingly random images. Allen’s spontaneous musical accompaniment reveals layers of hidden and unintended narratives resonating within each film.

“These films are extremely personal to me, and it can be like a surgical procedure when someone starts exploring them,” Harrar says. “But when Marshall started watching them, I knew immediately that he was someone I could trust creatively with my films. The music was already embedded in the films — he had to reveal it.”

Over the last two decades, Cinema Soloriens has played sporadic shows around the world, inviting various collaborators to join in during performances. Daevid Allen of pioneering prog rock bands Soft Machine and Gong joined the group for a 2013 tour. Other participants have included percussionist Chris Cutler (Art Bears, Henry Cow, Pere Ubu), guitarist Michael Gibbons (Bardo Pond), and percussionist Ed Wilcox (Temple of Bon Matin).

Scattered recordings have been released, with titles such as Dyad (Toztizok Zoundz), and Cinema Soloriens & the Cosmo-Drama’s Japan Tour (Soloriens Media). Live is how the group’s energy truly coalesces. Every show is a singular experience, and when Cinema Soloriens makes its Atlanta debut at the Mammal Gallery on April 25, Allen (alto sax, Crumar EVI, flute, Casiotone keyboard) and Harrar (tenor sax, various ethnic wind instruments, EVI, synth, and vocals) will share the stage with guitarist Mitch Esparza, and percussionist Klimchak.

Musical improvisation seems like the fundamental element driving the group’s performances. But for Allen the experience is about embracing the living spirit of music. “We play the sounds because of the vibrations of the day,” he says. “Each day is different and that creates the music. It’s alive. We can feel each other, and we have ideas, but it’s not like TV music, or Hollywood movies. It’s the spirit you’re dealing with. It’s not what you know. With the spirits sometimes it’s what you don’t know that’s important.”

Allen, who turns 91 in May, and is the current leader of the Sun Ra Arkestra, will also lead a workshop on April 26 at the Mammal Gallery, where he will expand upon these practices — disciplines handed down by Sun Ra himself. “When I started playing with Sun Ra, I’d just come out of the conservatory, and I had learned,” Allen says. “I had everything down, but Sun Ra would say ‘That’s nice, but it’s not what I want.’ He wanted me to play by the spirit and not by the book. That’s when I learned that you just do what the spirit suggests you do,” he adds. “It’s not something that you can think about, you just do it. And the spirit will guide you through what you don’t know.”

Harrar and Allen’s relationship has flourished since their first meeting on Christmas Eve, almost 22 years ago. At best guess, it’s been about a year-and-a-half since their last time playing together, and Cinema Soloriens’ Atlanta debut may be the group’s final show, at least around these parts. “Marshall is in good health, but he has other projects that he wants to pursue with the time he has left on earth, including the Arkestra,” Harrar says. “We may play some more shows down the road, but this will certainly be the only time this happens in Atlanta.”