leon todd johnson
For many, the ECM- and Windham Hill-influenced, neo-classically inflected jazz of airport people’s from nine mornings became an essential part of their morning ritual. On his latest CD wa kei sei jaku, Johnson takes that morning tea ritual in a more intentional and explicit direction. In addition to a limited-edition tea collaboration with Cincinnati-based Wendigo Tea, wa kei sei jaku reflects on the four core principles of the Japanese tea ceremony:
Wa (和): Harmony or unity
Kei (敬): Respect or reverence
Sei (清): Purity or cleanliness
Jaku (寂): Tranquility or silence
Johnson weaves these principles into the music, incorporating samples from his own morning tea ceremonies as textural sound beds and percussive elements. wa kei sei jaku is a beautiful album. Fans of Ryuichi Sakamoto and Keith Jarrett should find a lot to love here. Same with fans of slow mornings on the back porch.
Leon Johnson has spent his share of time in airports. Growing up in a veritable Civil Rights dynasty, the now Indianapolis-based multi-instrumentalist and composer traveled frequently as a child, accompanying his family all over the U.S. and Africa where his grandfather organized against apartheid. Being so often on the move, Johnson took solace in sitting and people-watching at airports where, as Johnson puts it, “we’re in between where we’re going and where we were and we don’t have much to say.”On From Nine Mornings, his debut full-length as Airport People, Johnson conjures a sense of ease and order, a kind of effortless harmonic precision that sounds, perhaps, like a reaction to the disjointedness of being dragged along from place to place.Like Eno’s Music for Aiports or Satie’s musique d'ameublement, From Nine Mornings seems to invite projection and interpretation. It is music which can be used this way or that; generous music. There is a spaciousness that recalls Keith Jarrett’s The Köln Concert but also a deeply memorable, hummable character, like William Tyler or Paul Bley’s “Ida Lupino.” From Nine Mornings is sparse but supportive; melodies don’t drift, they ride, if ever so gently.Each of the tracks on From Nine Mornings proceeds from a melody that, in fact, emerged each on a respective morning in 2020. Johnson had recently lost his job, recently moved, and was once again seeking to exploit the more freeing aspects of the liminal. What is there to hear when we’re in between where we were and where we’re going and we don’t have much to say?
After that period of emergent morning melodies, Johnson reviewed and culled. By chance, nine stood out––and so we have nine (and a prelude), each from its own morning. Piano, essentially, but also violin, upright bass, guitar, drums, field recordings, and manipulated orchestral samples bolster these melodies, careful but buoyant. Fans of John Carroll Kirby and Nils Frahm and H. Takahashi will undoubtedly find much to love in these pieces, but Johnson’s love of The Bad Plus and Pat Metheny are here too, just beneath the surface, as is Johnson’s classical training. The songs are simple but sophisticated just the same, cinematic or perhaps televisionistic, a kind of gentle drama fit for the subliminal, the periphery––this is a mode not entirely unlike the Rachel’s Selenography.
Much of what happens on From Nine Mornings is precise, but none of it is proscriptive. The title, and the spirit implied, ensures an openness. These are nine pieces of music from nine mornings. But as for what they are for or where they are going, this is left to the listener.
leon johnson.
indianapolis, in based.
ambient, neoclassical, quasi-jazz.
multi-instrumentalist and composer.
Indianapolis-based Leon Todd Johnson has been recording under the moniker Airport People since 2020. Under that name, Johnson’s engaging neoclassical work flirted with Windham Hill/ECM jazz inflections while incorporating a deep melodic sensibility that serves as a throughline across his recorded work. As the name reflects, Airport People’s work harnessed Johnson’s memories of traveling around the world with his family, supporting his civil rights leader grandfather’s work in Africa—a state he described as being “in between where we’re going and where we were, and we don’t have much to say.”
Johnson’s second record for Whited Sepulchre Records finds him once again inspired by travel, but as the name change suggests, his work is no longer defined by the space between one place and another. Instead, it focuses on traveling outward and finding home within oneself—both philosophically and musically.
Johnson has long been drawn to Ryuichi Sakamoto’s work. While writing songs for this record, he returned to several late-era Sakamoto pieces like Andata and various soundtracks for films, especially Minamata. With this music in mind and having begun a practice of Zen meditation, Johnson traveled to Japan for a long-awaited trip. Upon returning home, he began compiling these four songs when he heard an interview with Mine Somi Kubose about the traditional Japanese tea ceremony. The interview was recorded in 1977 at the Buddhist Temple of Chicago by Chungmoo Choi and preserved in the Library of Congress; it was exactly what the album needed.
Mornings have always featured prominently in Johnson’s work. From Nine Mornings—his previous record for Whited Sepulchre Records—compiled his morning musical sketches into fully fleshed-out songs. Many listeners have described his work as quintessential morning music, accompanying their first cup of coffee or tea. For this most recent record, Johnson reflected on the four principles of the Japanese tea ceremony
Wa (和): Harmony or unity
Kei (敬): Respect or reverence
Sei (清): Purity or cleanliness
Jaku (寂): Tranquility or silence
In these principles, Johnson found an analog to the tracks he was recording. Each seemed to embody a principle as he listened back, weaving samples from the interview throughout.
The four tracks on wa kei sei jaku build on the lushness of From Nine Mornings. The peaceful piano melody of “wa” is met with some of the most expressive bass work Johnson has recorded—muted runs blend with strings to explore harmony. “Kei” builds into a serene crescendo with arpeggiated piano and violin counter-melodies, while “jaku”, as the name suggests, lets piano melodies hang in the air with just enough time to land.
Connecting to the theme more personally, Johnson incorporated field recordings of various tea house gardens from his trip to Japan, as well as sounds from his own morning tea ritual into the compositions. Percussive elements, roomy scrapes, and the tinkling of metal against china all capture his daily practice—one shared by fans who use his music to ease into their days. The album will be celebrated with a collaborative release from Cincinnati-based Wendigo Tea, who will offer a limited-edition blend inspired by the record.
Since recording wa kei sei jaku, Johnson has become a father. It’s not lost on him that amid the world-upending experience of first-time parenthood, he’s stepping away from a moniker and confidently imbuing these songs with his full self—as much as the self can ever be fully known.