Pianos: The Four Hands of Yves Leveille and Eri Yamamoto

It is a small world, but evidently Arthur’s Tavern is at the center of it. Japanese pianist-composer Eri Yamamoto has a regular Thursday-Friday-Saturday night feature spot there, where the Quebecois Yves Léveillé once subbed for her during one of her many tours. When Léveillé invited Yamamoto back up to Montreal to play with his working group, the two pianists found they clicked together, even in unorthodox combos, including a two-piano trio with multi-reed virtuoso Paul McCandless. Yet their first recording together is an intimate piano duet, simply titled Pianos, now available from finer Canadian music retailers.

Although two piano sessions are not unprecedented, they offer a distinct challenge to both players. However, Léveillé and Yamamoto prove to be quite stylistically compatible and amenable to the give-and-take of four-handed playing. Rather than showy one-upmanship, they segue into each other quite pleasingly, as with the cascading runs of Léveillé’s darkly lyrical “Pour Ainsi Dire” that opens the set.

Inspired by nature, Yamamoto’s “Redwoods,” has a transcendent elegance that perfectly suits the cooperative spirit of the project. As it is technically Léveillé’s session, he supplies the majority (five out of eight) of the compositions. Yet, the intriguing melody and evolving dynamics of his “Zone Indigéne,” the longest track on Pianos, are not unlike those of Yamamoto’s compositions.

The two shortest selections of the session are solo improvisations from each pianist. Yamamoto’s swinging “Montreal Dance” delivers the most muscular bluesy playing to be heard on Pianos, whereas Léveillé’s “Recontre” might be its most delicate, deepest dip into the Bill Evans bag.

While there is indeed a moody pensive quality to much of the music they create, there is still a strong rhythmic component, driving it all along quite effectively, as Léveillé’s “Pantomime” nicely illustrates. It dramatically concludes with the striking beauty of Yamamoto’s composition “Color,” which was first recorded on her album of nearly the same name, Colors.

There is quite an eloquent conversation going on in Pianos, filled with warm and witty phrases. I’ve come to know Eri Yamamoto, writing profiles of her and her richly rewarding music and hearing her live at Arthur’s. While I have not met Léveillé yet, I suppose that’s why you have to keep coming to that West Village landmark—you never know who might turn up. While Pianos might take some searching for here in the lower forty-eight, it is definitely worth importing. It is a great example of the creative rapport between two passionate yet disciplined artists.

Eri Yamamoto Finds the Good Everyday

Patrons weaving their way around us at Arthur’s Tavern would hardly be surprised to hear Eri Yamamoto and her trio discussing music. The occasional Italian might have thrown them. Following her Sunday night “Thank You 2009” performance at Cornelia Street Café (a two year tradition for hip New Yorkers ringing out the old), I was able to catch the busy pianist-composer after her usual Saturday night set at Arthur’s Tavern to discuss her new CD, In Each Day, Something Good, which releases today. Her longtime drummer Ikuo Takeuchi and frequent bassist Arthur Kell sat-in to provide their typical rock-solid support (or perhaps to mock my skills as interviewer) and also add a few words of their own (usually in English for my benefit).

On and off the bandstand, the rapport between Yamamoto and the regular members of her trio is immediately evident. She and Takeuchi have been playing together for fourteen years and the much in-demand bassist Dave Ambrosio has been recording and touring with Yamamoto’s trio for the last five years (Kevin Tkacz completes the battery of bassists that regularly join her at Arthur’s three nights a week, when she is not touring). “We don’t have to say anything,” Yamamoto said, describing her relationship with Takeuchi and Ambrosio. “It is like we share the same musical mind.”

As a result, Yamamoto’s trio has an instantly recognizable sound all their own, yet certainly reflective of her own aesthetic sensibilities. As she explains: “In music or any art-form, I prefer work that uses space—things that are not 100% complete, but have something identifiably missing. That makes them more interesting.”

In their time together, Yamamoto’s trio has toured extensively, racking up many war stories on the road. One telling anecdote occurred when Yamamoto returned to her native Japan. As she recalled: “To make our next gig, we had to transfer from the bullet train to a local train that only left every two hours. The problem was the platforms were very far apart and Ikuo was loaded down with his drums. I ran ahead to ask the conductor to hold the train for us, but instead he came out and carried Ikuo’s drum cases by himself. We could still hear he was short of breath when he announced the next two station stops.”

No matter how friendly Japanese train conductors might generally be, I cannot imagine anyone but Eri Yamamoto convincing one to disregard his timetables in order to lug a bunch of drums on-board. She has that ability to win people over wherever she goes, including the often rambunctious crowd at Arthur’s. In particular, she seems to have forged a special relationship with Italian audiences, which is why she has been learning Italian (evidently Takeuchi has picked up a fair amount as well).

“In the last three years, I went to Italy over ten times, she explained. “I’ve been seriously studying the language for the last two months because I want to be able to show my appreciation. Often people will come not necessarily knowing who we are, yet they come anyway. That means a lot, so it is nice to be able to thank them in their language.”

In fact, many of the compositions on In Each Day were inspired by her frequent travels, like “Sheep Song,” the product of a tour through Wales, and “Blue in Tunisia,” whose origin is self-explanatory. However, the new CD includes something new for her, a suite of compositions constituting an original soundtrack to the classic 1932Yasujiro Ozu silent film, I Was Born, But… According to Yamamoto, it started with a casual observation:

“A friend of mine happened to mention that some of my music reminded him of a movie soundtrack and suggested I compose my own. I didn’t want to write something for a film that already had a score, so I started considering silent movies . . . When I thought of Ozu’s I Was Born, it seemed perfect. I liked the fact that it was Japanese and the story appealed to me. I don’t really like special effect movies. I prefer films about ordinary people.” Indeed, Ozu’s blend of slapstick comedy and shrewd social commentary would be perfectly complimented by Yamamoto’s music, which is both playful and contemplative in equal measure. (And just for the record, her favorite film is Cinema Paradiso—another Italian connection.)

In Each Day also marks a milestone: her fifteenth year performing in New York. “Of course,” she readily conceded, “being a musician here can be challenging, but you have to remember to look for the good in every day.” Like her previous trio CD, it was released on the Brooklyn-based Aum Fidelity label and features a cover painting by her nephew, Leo Yamamoto (“I still owe him a trip to the Japanese barbeque,” she confessed.).

While she would like to tour less this year in order to “focus, think, and write,” Yamamoto still has plenty of international gigs already booked, including an unusual trio concert in Montreal with fellow pianist Yves Léveillé and oboe player Paul McCandless on March 4th. A duo CD with Léveillé is also forthcoming sometime in the future.

In Each Day is another fresh and intriguing musical statement from one of the busiest and most original jazz composers and improvisers on the scene today. As always, you can always hear the compositions that will eventually comprise her next CD as she hones them in live performance at Arthur’s every Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights—at least when she is in town. To check her busy schedule or for more information about her CDs go to Yamamoto’s website at: http://www.eriyamamoto.com/.

(CD Cover art: Leo Yamamoto
Eri Yamoto photo: Rita Cigolini
Trio photo: Agnieszka Kubeczko)

Hiromi Kasuga Callin’

New York Callin’
By Hiromi Kasuga

It is quite a sight to watch Hiromi Kasuga play on KumGangSan’s mountainous stage precariously cantilevered in mid-air, at their fashionable Korean Town location. Of course, she also plays on more traditional bandstands at well-known New York jazz venues, including the Blue Note and the Kitano. One of the top Japanese jazz pianists currently performing in The City, Kasuga has recently released a new CD appropriately titled New York Callin.’

Kasuga kicks things off with Charlie Parker’s burner “Relaxin’ At Camarillo,” augmenting her trio with trumpeter Joe Magnarelli, establishing the group’s bebop chops right from the start. However, her interpretive gifts are really showcased on the following “Loss of Love,” a Henry Mancini theme from Vittorio De Sica's 1970 film, The Sunflower. Typically performed in a maudlin vein, Kasuga gives it a fittingly meditative intro, before quickening the tempo and adding a Latin-ish flavor, truly transforming the tune with her stylish alchemy.

Kasuga’s originals have a crisp Hardbop vibe, that sound partially rooted in the classic Blue Note era, but have a freshness distinctly her own. “Raindrops” is a trio feature that effectively represents the pitter-patter of precipitation, serving as a launching pad for effervescent solos from Kasuga and bassist Marco Panascia. The similarly aquatically titled “Ripple,” features an augmented front line of Mike DiRubbo on soprano saxophone and Magnarelli on flugelhorn, perfectly in-synch on Kasuga’s lovely melody. Marked by subtle shifts in dynamics, it is a compelling composition that inspires striking solos from DiRubbo and the leader.

It is followed by two original trio tributes, which differ in tone dramatically. While “Ms. Butterfly,” an elegant ballad inspired by the tragic Puccini heroine and “Monk’s Dance” is a sprightly homage to the innovative pianist composer (possibly referencing the little dance Monk sometimes performed to show his enthusiasm for a sideman’s solo), both show the flexibility and swinging musicianship of Kasuga and her rhythm section.

Throughout Callin,’ Kasuga changes up the mood and tempos nicely. Midway through, she digs back into the bebop bag for Bud Powell’s “Cleopatra’s Dream,” arranged as a fiery Latinized jolt of energy. She concludes with a “Honoka’s Lullaby,” a beautifully tranquil solo piano performance dedicated to Kasuga’s niece.

Both as a composer and a soloist, Kasuga has an appealing vitality that really comes through on Callin.’ It is a highly recommended release that rewards repeated listening with its style and verve. She plays KumGangSan weekend evenings this month, before leaving on a Japanese tour in August (check her website for her performance schedule).

2 X Eri Yamamoto

Redwoods & Duologue
By Eri Yamamoto
AUM Fidelity

It is quite an accomplishment for a jazz artist these days to record on a legitimate label, be they even the smallest of independents, as opposed to essentially self-producing. To have two label releases within the span of about three months time is really getting someplace. That is the enviable position Eri Yamamoto is in, following up the early summer release of Duologue, with her new trio release, Redwoods.

Yamamoto has a regular Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night gig with her trio at Arthur’s Tavern in New York, when she is not touring (which she probably does at least one week out of the month). However, she seems to take inspiration from the road, frequently returning to home base with new compositions. Dropping by Arthur’s is a great way to hear her abundant new material taking shape.

Indeed, Redwoods had its genesis in the Muir Woods of Northern California. The title track is an elegant meditation on nature, featuring the sensitive brush work of Arthur’s stalwart Ikuo Takeuchi. Reverence for natural beauty is a theme for the session, also inspiring the stately but sensitive “Magnolia.”

The opening “This is an Apple,” referring to her initial English lessons (she is now picking up Italian too), nicely illustrates her talent for composing strong melodic hooks, as well as her mastery of dynamics though her powerful attack on the keys. It is followed by a spritely groover, “Wonder Land,” that nicely captures her strong rhythmic drive and sense of humor. It is the sort of tune jazz D.J.’s used to choose as their theme songs, back in the day when there were such creatures.

Of her now six CDs, Duologue is the first to break from the trio format, featuring two duo performances a piece with guest artists reedman Daniel Carter, percussionists Federico Ughi and Hamid Drake, as well as bassist William Parker, with whom Yamamoto has worked as a sideman. Starting with the beauty and graceful simplicity of “Thank You” and concluding with the wit and verve of “You are Welcome,” Duologue is a series of friendly, but eloquent conversations between the leader and her guests.

With the rock solid support of Parker, she brings a certain Monkish charm to “Subway Song,” whereas “Violet Street,” featuring Carter on tenor, is both simultaneously soothing and searching. Throughout Duologue Yamamoto takes us through a variety of moods, but the most dramatic might be the trance-inducing “Circular Motion,” featuring Drake’s gently hypnotic frame drum.

Both are thoroughly entertaining releases, but if you want to start with just one, Redwoods probably gets the nod, capturing the highly tuned empathy of Yamamoto’s working trio. There are plenty of talented jazz pianists in the City, but while they sound quite nice, I could never recognize them blindfolded. However, I am pretty confident I would know Eri Yamamoto’s playing by ear. She really has honed an individual sound all her own, which is why I have recommended her recordings here before, and do so again with Redwoods and Duologue.

Across the Crystal Sea

Across the Crystal Sea
By Danilo Perez, Arranged and Conducted by Claus Ogerman
Emarcy Records

Some top arrangers in jazz have had enough prestige to lead their own sessions, without ever picking up an instrument, aside from their pens. Gil Evans would be the classic example, but Claus Ogerman can also lay claim to that distinction. Recording an entire session of such an arranger’s charts is often a career highlight, which is why jazz pianist Danilo Perez’s Across the Crystal Sea, arranged by Ogerman, is sure to receive quite a bit of attention in the jazz press.

The fitting cover, John Marin’s Maine, 1914, comes courtesy of producer Tommy LiPuma’s art collection. While certainly representational, but with a dreamy abstract (dare say impressionistic) quality, depicting the wooden coast and tranquil sea beyond, it makes quite an appropriate image for the music stored within. Likewise, Ogerman’s charts, consisting of six of his originals (five of which are based on classical themes) and two standards, also have an ethereal, leisurely quality that can be either a blessing or a too-much-of-a-good-thing curse.

Probably the disk’s strongest selection is the opening title track, based on a theme from German choral composer Hugo Distler. The prominence of Luis Quintero’s percussion really helps propel the track, keeping it from being overwhelmed by the strings. Perez’s also takes an extended solo that shows true improvisational fire. Likewise, Lewis Nash on drums sets a solid groove for “Rays and Shadows” (after Jean Sibelius) that preserves a sense of momentum. Again, Perez takes a legit solo, as the rhythm section locks in beneath him.

The two standards are feature spots for guest vocalist Cassandra Wilson. Both are moodily gorgeous, but from a programming perspective, might be a bit similar in terms of tone and vibe. Of the two, “Lazy Afternoon” is probably superior to “My Heart Sings,” with Wilson’s hauntingly expressive vocals perfectly suiting the lyrics on the former, whereas the strings and chimes are more prominent on the latter.

“Purple Condor” (after Manuel de Falla) also gets the balance about right between piano, percussion, and strings. However, sometimes Crystal can sound a bit over-arranged, with the strings soaring too highly, or just conversely sounding just a little too sedate, as with “If I Forget You” (a la Rachmaninoff) or “Another Autumn,” the original Ogerman original.

There are some quite lovely moments on Crystal, even for hardened jazz ears, but it is certainly a quiet, late-night kind of spin. It is actually the kind of thin-edge-of-the-wedge release that might conceivably bring in new listeners for Perez, and jazz in general by extension, because it is truly accessible for all audiences.

Currents from Holland

Currents
By the Wolfert Brederode Quartet
ECM Records 2004

Manfred Eicher’s ECM Records and vintage Alfred Lion-era Blue Note often seem poles apart stylistically, but arguably they shared philosophical similarities. Both labels were developed by strong founding producers whose distinctive aesthetic sense even shaped the signature look of their albums. Each also built reputations for respecting their artists, often signing sidemen who had distinguished themselves on previous sessions to their own contracts. Wolfert Brederode is the latest example of this practice. After contributing to the distinctive sounds of vocalist Susanne Abbuehl’s CDs, the Dutch pianist has just released Currents, his first session as a leader for the label.

Brederode kicks off with “Common Fields,” one of the more melodic and rhythmic selections in an elegantly subtle set. Brederode lays down a hypnotic groove on piano over which clarinetist Claudio Puntin soars, egged on by Samuel Rohrer’s insistent cymbals. It is a compelling track—an attention-getting introduction for a set of often ruminative music entirely composed, or in one case co-composed by the leader. It is followed by the exquisitely delicate “Empty Room,” a track that can easily get overwhelmed by outside distractions if you are listening to it around town on your ipod.

“High & Low,” essentially a trio performance, has a lighter, airier feel, nicely demonstrating the musicians’ facility for using space and rests, before Puntin returns to the fore introducing the mournful pastoral “With Them.” Throughout Currents, his clarinet sounds far removed from the shrill old-timey licorice stick, bringing forth a deep resonance from the instrument.

The aptly titled “Frost Flower” has a similar dark trance-like vibe as “Fields,” but is taken at a somewhat slower tempo. “Scarabee” is another thoughtful piece that also allows for some eloquent statements from Brederode and Puntin. Brederode’s group consistently shows a particular facility for subtle dynamic shifts, as on “Desiderata,” which steadily builds in intensity from the leader’s spare introduction.

As is the case with many ECM sessions, Currents resembles an EU summit conference, with the Norwegian bassist Mats Eilertsen and the Swiss Puntin and Rohrer joining the Dutch leader to form a remarkably cohesive unit. Like Mathias Eick’s recent release, it is quite rewarding to hear a relatively new artist afforded the opportunity to pursue their own musical conceptions as leaders. Brederode’s music has a fluid vibe that expresses much with great economy, making Currents a rich listen for those willing to spend the time to let it properly incubate in their ears.

DB’s Heroes

Heroes
By David Benoit
Peak Records

Paying tribute to those who came before you is jazz tradition worthy of continued observance. It preserves the sense of ancestral veneration and apostolic succession unique to jazz. David Benoit’s Heroes is the second so-titled piano tribute CD I have heard in recent years, the first coming from Roger Kellaway. While Benoit’s is sure to receive more attention because of the oftentimes smoothish artist’s greater commercial stature, it is also more likely to face a more grudging critical reception form the same reason, even though both Heroes essentially come from the same place with the same motivation.

Benoit starts with Dave Grusin’s “Mountain Dance,” arguably a classic of contemporary-crossover jazz, wisely hewing close to the sparkling original melody. There are a few of those chime-like smooth jazz flourishes throughout Heroes, but they do not sound out of place here. Benoit’s interpretation of “Human Nature,” made famous by Michael Jackson is also reasonably credible, but the smooth jazz sweetenings are distracting and R&B backbeat gets obtrusive.

The pop covers continue with Elton John’s “Your Song.” The leader turns in an elegant solo, but the rendition still falls short of Pietro Tonolo’s recent version with Gil Goldstein and Steve Swallow. The Doors’ “Light My Fire” is probably the most successful pop song of the outing, benefiting from some Latin percussion and a solo from the leader that digs down into the funk bag.

In his liner notes, Benoit identifies Horace Silver’s “Song for My Father” as “the first jazz tune I learned by ear,’ and his affection for it is still apparent in an arrangement faithful to the original. When Benoit has periodically taken breaks from more commercial work for straighter jazz projects, Bill Evans has usually somehow been an inspiration, and that is true on Heroes as well. A lithe but sensitive swinger, “Waltz for Debbie” might be his finest keyboard work of the session.

The sole original of the set is “A Twisted Little Etude,” a tribute to Dave Brubeck that serves as a prelude to “Blue Rondo a la Turk.” It swings pretty hard, featuring a groovy guest spot for Andy Suzuki on alto and brief echoes of Joe Morello’s classic “Take Five” solo from drummer Jamey Tate. Suzuki stays for “Rondo,” giving it an edgier sound than typically heard.

While Heroes is somewhat uneven, there is a certain logic to its inconsistency, with the jazz tunes sounding jazzy and the pop tunes poppish (to varying degrees). The second half is clearly the strongest, with Benoit showing legit jazz chops while paying homage to the likes of Silver, Evans, and Brubeck, for which he deserves some credit, particularly if he can bring more ears to these artists.

Leipzig Live

Life in Leipzig
By Ketil Bjørnstad and Terje Rypdal
ECM Records 2052

With thirty published books and novels to his credit, Ketil Bjørnstad is certainly a literate jazz artist. While his only volume currently available in English is a biography of Edvard Munch, the influence of his fellow Norwegian artist is not readily apparent on Life in Leipzig, his new live duet release with frequent collaborator Terje Rypdal. However, the pianist and guitarist do create music of a vivid, darkly-hued nature, not totally foreign the spirit of some of the painter’s work.

Bjørnstad immediately serves notice of the dramatic program to come through the deep resonance of the Bösendorfer’s added low-end, as “The Sea V” rumbles to life with the sound of ominous foreboding. Bjørnstad slowly releases the tension and lightens the tone while Rypdal simply adds starkly atmospheric distortion effects, until entering in well past the track’s halfway mark, swooping and soaring over Bjørnstad’s piano, until they seamlessly segue into the next tune, “The Pleasure is Mine.”

As a set, Leipzig has a seductive ebb and flow that matches Bjørnstad’s frequent water music motifs. While their concert repertoire drew largely from Bjørnstad’s The Sea, his thematically related Water Stories, and several of Rypdal’s releases, it sounds almost like an extended suite, so subtle are the transitions from piece to piece. Bjørnstad alternates his rhapsodic runs on the keys with Rypdal’s squealing and shredding guitar through “The Sea V,” “Pleasure,” and “The Sea II,” finally giving the audience space to applaud with the conclusion of “Flotations and Surroundings.”

While “Easy Now” is more restrained and delicate, it could have been a coda to the preceding suite-but-not-a-suite. Grieg’s “Notturno” is a palate cleaning feature for Bjørnstad, as is the lovely miniature “Alai’s Room,” which leads directly into majestic “By the Fjord,” an ode to Norway if ever there was one.

As one of the greatest hits of Scandinavian jazz, the first audible notes of Rypdal’s “The Return of Per Ulv” brings appreciative applause from the audience. It is actually a tribute to the Warner Brothers’ character Wile E. Coyote, known as Peter Wolf in Norway, as the “Wile E.” presumably would not translate. It is a catchy melody here performed with gusto by both Bjørnstad and the composer, closing out quite a concert.

Although Leipzig is a live recording in the East German city’s Opera House, it often sounds like a studio production. While Bjørnstad might in his words: “not always be the softest pianist,” it is still a real trick balancing piano and electric guitar, so neither sounds overwhelmed or muffled, but no such worries here.

The sound is indeed fantastic and the music is compelling. Having performed together as a duo and in The Sea Quartet, Bjørnstad and Rypdal show a remarkable level of musical empathy in a powerhouse concert, the sonic currents of which listeners can willingly lose themselves in, until the rousing finale breaks the spell.

The Master Taylor and His Apprentice

The infamous Embraced, Cecil Taylor’s stylistically mismatched live duet recording with fellow piano legend Mary Lou Williams, is considered a train wreck by her fans. (For Taylor’s fans it is just good subversive fun.) So when Yosuke Yamashita likens an upcoming piano duet concert with Taylor to painting with Picasso and boxing with Ali, they are reasonable metaphors. However, unlike Williams, Yamashita is a free-oriented player who repeatedly credits Taylor’s influence on his musical development. As a result, they prove to be quite compatible in the February 2007 concert captured in director Yasuhiko Shirai’s documentary, 4 Hands: Cecil Taylor and Yosuke Yamashita in Concert, which received its American premiere last night at the Lincoln Center. (In lieu of a trailer, here is a link to Burning Piano, a 1973 short film of Yamashita playing a piano in flames.)

My biggest complaint about music documentaries is that they rarely have the confidence in their subjects to show a complete performance from start to finish. No such griping here, since Shirai shows their entire improvised concert, without interruptions or voice-overs. He also shows edited footage from their rehearsals and press conferences, and interview sequences with Yamashita, to provide context for the main event.

Interviewing Taylor however, is a bit of a challenge in any language. He seems to have a tendency to answer reporters’ questions with cryptic koans, if they are lucky, which makes it difficult for them to get their sound bites. At one point, he facetiously asks: “what is this, twenty questions and no answers?” Evidently, that actually works as a sound-bite for me.

Yamashita often refers to Taylor as his “master” and remembers with pride the praise he received from the legend at a Montreux Jazz Festival. Indeed, they clearly speak the same musical language. Although Taylor’s early sessions are surprisingly accessible (and compelling), he would develop an uncompromising style over time that does not offer a lot hooks for neophyte ears to hold on to. However, the concert dialogue between the two imposes a certain structure on Taylor that makes this a good entry point into his music.

Clearly, Yamashita was delighted with the results of the concert and Taylor must have been okay with it too. He attended the first screening last night, and even gave a direct answer to a question from the audience. When asked where the music he and Yamashita created that night came from, he rattled off diverse sources including “Wade in the Water,” Ellington’s “Diminuendo and Crescendo in Blue” as well as the pulse of life on the streets of New York and Tokyo.

In Hands, Taylor is as passionate and percussive on the keys as ever. Though at times respectfully deferential to Taylor, Yamashita hangs with him quite well throughout. Painstakingly editing footage from eight cameras, Shirai crafted an excellent concert documentary. It deserves real distribution in the future, presenting Taylor and Yamashita’s music in a way that could actual stretch some ears not previously accustomed to the freer sounds of improvised music.

All-Star Duologue

Last night witnessed the final All-Star game to be played in Yankee Stadium, which made the full house that turned out for Eri Yamamoto at the Cornelia Street Café all the more impressive. As it turns out, even those of us who stayed for both thoroughly impressive sets were still able to be home in time to see more than enough baseball. Celebrating the release of her new CD Duologues, Yamamoto and her duo partners for the evening, Daniel Carter and William Parker, put on the better show, by far.

There are plenty of talented jazz pianists in the City, but while they might sound quite nice, I could never recognize them blindfolded. However, I am pretty certain I would know Eri Yamamoto’s playing by ear. She really has honed an individual sound all her own, which is why I frequently hear her with her regular trio at Arthur’s Tavern. While it is almost impossible to describe the intangibles of style, Eri’s strong rhythmic drive and shrewd sense of humor are certainly important elements of her distinctive sound.

Starting with the beauty and elegant simplicity of “Thank You” and concluding with the wit and verve of “You are Welcome,” Duologue is an eloquent series of friendly conversations between the leader, Carter, Parker, and percussionists Hamid Drake and Federico Ughi. In between, she takes us through a variety of moods, with the hypnotic “Circular Motion,” the sensitive meditation “Muse,” and the rambunctious, slightly Monkish “Subway Song,” which she and Parker reprised at Cornelia Street.

Duologue is an excellent new release, showcasing both Yamamoto’s continually inventive playing and her intriguing compositions. It seems like she writes constantly, often inspired by her international tours, with new songs frequently making their debut at Arthur’s.

I recommend picking-up Duologue and when in the City, checking out Eri Yamamoto in her usual trio format at Arthur’s, every Thursday through Saturday, when she is in town. Also note, for those bold enough to venture into BKLN, her regular bassist Kevin Tkacz will lead his own group at Barbès on July 29th to mark the release of his own forthcoming CD.

Let It Come

Let It Come to You
By Taylor Eigsti
Concord Jazz

One of jazz’s post-Marsalis prodigies, Taylor Eigsti, now twenty-three, first recorded as a leader as a youthful sixteen year-old, which is plenty annoying to contemplate. Eigsti seems to have avoided the kind of jealousy and criticism that goes with the prodigy territory (particularly for the so-called “Young Lions”), garnering strong reviews and Grammy nominations for past CDs. With the release of Let It Come to You, Eigsti deserves credit again, for a strong, well thought-out mix of originals and standards.

Eigsti does have an interesting way with standards. At first he seems to attack the opener, Cole Porter’s “I Love You,” elliptically, giving the well-worn melody an almost minimalist treatment, before stepping on the gas at the halfway mark. The old chestnut “Fever” gets a similar treatment, before becoming a vehicle for Eigsti’s fleet chops.

His less obvious choices give the session a nice dimension too, like the Michael Brecker tribute, Pat Metheny’s “Timeline,” which Brecker recorded with the guitarist on his album Time is of the Essence. Here special guest Joshua Redman steps into the tenor role for some hot, soulful blowing. Another unusual choice is “Not Ready Yet” by the pop-quirk band the Eels. Eigsti’s arrangement is sensitive, giving some solo space to bassist Reuben Rogers.

The originals are all sequenced at the end of Let It, but they account for some of the strongest music of the session. The title track is an elegant ballad, which is nice, if not exceptionally memorable. However, though probably misnamed (one hopes), the three-part "Fallback Plan Suite," is a rousing musical statement, with strong melodic hooks and some great ensemble playing from flutist Evan Francis, and tenors Dayna Stephens and Ben Wendel. “Part One: Less Free Will” starts in a graceful hard-bop vein, segueing into more reflective passages, then rising and cresting again. “Part Two: Not Lost Yet” has more of a pop sensibility, with a prominent back beat and Eigsti’s Rhodes more discernable in the mix. It concludes with “Part Three: Brick Steps” which is much more insistent in tone, but boasts some sparkling ensemble horn passages and tenor solo from Wendel.

Let It is quite a satisfying musical statement from Eigsti as musician and composer. He should not have to worry about fallback plans. What he is doing now seems to be working out for him just fine.

Crispell’s Vignettes

Vignettes
By Marilyn Crispell
ECM Records 2027

ECM has always been known as an audiophile’s label, but the audio quality of Marilyn Crispell’s new solo release, Vignettes, sounds particularly gorgeous. Fortunately, the careful production values (recorded in the Auditorio RSI in Lugano, Switzerland, for those keeping score at home) are not misplaced in a surprisingly accessible session marked by its austere beauty.

As the title implies, Vignettes consists of several short improvisations, most under three minutes, mixed together with longer, more formal compositions. The brief, minimalist “Vignette 1” starts the program, establishing the spare elegance of the music to come. Though known for her associations with fire-breathing avant-garde artists, Crispell displays a delicate lyricism on “Cuida Tu Espíritu,” one of only two compositions here not composed in some fashion by the pianist. Likewise, the following “Gathering Light” is elegantly melodic in a way that approaches the revelatory.

Of course, the Cecil Taylor influences still come through. “Vignettes” 3 and 6 have that distinctive percussive playfulness that has long been a hallmark of Taylor’s music. Crispell has also been greatly influenced by Scandinavian jazz artists, many of whom have also recorded for ECM, so the thoughtful composition “Sweden” makes a fitting homage to her colleagues and labelmates.

From the graceful “Stilleweg” to the foreboding “Axis,” Vignettes is a rich study in ostensible contradictions, which Crispell nicely reconciles into a unified musical statement. The disk culminates with the relatively brief “Little Song for My Father,” a tune sharing little beyond the sentiment of the similarly named Horace Silver tune. It is a performance striking for its open spaces and emotional purity—a perfect summation for Vignettes.

Stark one moment, sweeping the next, yet never jarring or disjointed, Vignettes is a richly crafted record. As impressive as Vignettes’ engineering might be, nothing beats live. She performs in New York at Birdland tonight, live and solo, as part of a tour that will also take her to Baltimore, San Francisco, and Seattle over the coming year.

New Crystal Silence

New Crystal Silence
By Chick Corea & Gary Burton
Concord Records 2-CD set

Those who prefer the fusion side of Chick Corea have reason to rejoice with the long-awaited news Return to Forever will reunite later this year to tour and possibly record. Those more partial to the acoustic Corea have new opportunities to savor his duets with vibist Gary Burton, one of the preferred contexts in which to hear the pianist. After touring together in 2007 to celebrate their thirty-five year periodic association (with more dates to come in March), the two have revisited tunes from their original recording Crystal Silence as well as succeeding collaborations in the appropriately titled double live set, New Crystal Silence, on-sale today.

The two disks represent two very distinct live sets, starting with the sweeping romanticism of their concert with the Sydney Symphony Orchestra and concluding with the camaraderie of a duet concert. The Sydney concert often has an understandably pronounced third stream feel. The opening “Duende” in particular, also brings to mind some of Gil Evans charts for Miles Davis, in its balance of impressionistic orchestral passages with delicate solos. Tim Garland’s arrangements have a weightier feel than the vibe of the original CS on ECM, which is not at all a bad thing, as it puts Corea’s standards in a new context.

“Love Castle” features a stirring introduction, showing how adept Corea and Burton blend together and with the Symphony. Burton’s playing here is beautiful, sounding quite at home with the orchestra. It would be rewarding to hear in such settings more often, as I would argue his 1973 Seven Songs for Quartet and Chamber Orchestra is an overlooked gem in his discography.

New CS also serves as a reminder of Corea’s success composing enduring standards. “Brasilia” proves particularly hospitable to Garland’s arrangements. Of course, it could not be New Crystal Silence without “Crystal Silence.” It unfolds slowly, with much implied, before morphing into a sparkling rendition of the classic theme, with some dazzling interplay between the co-leaders.

Both disks end with Corea’s classic standard “Fiesta.” The first version features darker hues and grand cascading sounds, concluding a dramatic set, whereas the duo version is a rousing set closer, with Corea and Burton sounding audibly inspired. Indeed, the second concert is often an unabashed swinger, with a set list that could have been written by fans, including a briskly boppish “Bud Powell” and the elegantly lilting performance of “Waltz for Debby.”

Along with “La Fiesta,” most short lists of favorite Corea tunes would also include “No Mystery” (sorry no “Spain” this time). Here Corea’s fleet piano runs give it an appropriately exotic flavor. The only tune from the original CS making the second set is “Señor Mouse,” featuring some consistently inventive playing from both musicians.

It is clear throughout New CS that Corea and Burton’s highly attuned musical rapport remains undiminished. Listening to them play off each other and follow each other seamlessly is a pleasure. For acoustic Corea fans, this may well be the release you have been waiting for from the prolific pianist since his marathon live sessions at the Blue Note. It will not disappoint.

(Corea plays NJPAC with Béla Fleck on February 15th and in NY State at Poughkeepsie with Burton on March 7th.)

25 Years of Jarrett Standards

My Foolish Heart: Live at Montreux 2-CD
Setting Standards: New York Sessions 3-CD
Keith Jarrett, Gary Peacock, Jack DeJohnette
ECM Records

As celebrated as Keith Jarrett’s solo work (like the bestselling Köln Concert) has been, the so-called Standards Trio is probably his admirers’ preferred format to hear his piano artistry. It was twenty-five years ago roughly that Jarrett went into a Manhattan studio with bassist Gary Peacock and drummer Jack DeJohnette for ECM’s Manfred Eicher. It worked out well for all involved. Recently, My Foolish Heart, a live set documenting the trio at the 2001 Montreux Jazz Festival was issued, and this month sees the release of Setting Standards, a special anniversary collection of the three albums worth of music recorded at that fateful 1983 session. Together these five disks make quite an impact, artistically and as indication of Jarrett’s esteem as a recording artist, so it seems fitting to address them together in one big value-sized review.

The Montreux disks kick off with a brisk take on the Miles Davis standard “Four.” Jarrett’s playing is particularly fluid and his trademark vocalizations are audible throughout. The title standard starts with an appropriately sensitive interpretation by Jarrett, until he briefly kicks up the tempo about halfway through, with Peacock and DeJohnette following totally in-synch. Peacock solos tastefully and DeJohnette’s drumming is supportive and complimentary.

“What’s New” is a nice example of the democratic nature of the trio, with Peacock getting ample room to solo, as Jarrett comps underneath him. From there they take “The Song is You” as a bebop burner propelled along by DeJohnette’s roiling percussion.

Heart’s first disk ends with one of three tunes Jarrett describes as “ragtime” numbers, designed to stun an under-appreciative Montreux audience. Actually, they are well within in the jazz idiom, but the tunes have a stride-like feel, and are indeed surprisingly jaunty. Jarrett has stirred controversy for laying beat-downs on inattentive audiences and distracting photographers (for which I refuse to fault him). However, his “ragtime” gambit completely won over any wavering listeners judging by the roar of applause ending disk one.

“Honeysuckle Rose” and “You Took Advantage of Me” kick off the second disk in the same spirit. “Advantage” is a particularly infectious swinger. Jarrett’s playing is marked by uncommon wit and verve here, aided by DeJohnette’s sly percussive accents. Again, Jarrett and company cover a wide range of standards, including Gerry Mulligan’s “Five Brothers,” which Jarrett opens up beautifully.

The trio can really lock-in on ballads, so not surprisingly that is what the two longest tracks of Heart are—namely the title song, and “Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out to Dry.” In-the-moment inspiration is what drives their live performances, and they truly conjure up a fragile and melancholy mood in “Tears.” They fittingly conclude with another ballad, “Only the Lonely,” a truly fine example of the trio’s interplay. DeJohnette’s shimmering cymbals combine with Jarrett’s piano for a delicate conclusion that takes one’s breath away, before the familiar voice of Claude Nobs signals the end of the set. It wouldn’t be a live Montreux recording without him.

Setting Standards collects Standards Vol. 1 and II with Changes. Together it is a great bundle of music. More than the Montreux set, it shows their predilection for recasting standards in different spirits. “God Bless the Child” for instance, on Volume I, is taken at a faster tempo than usual, but is extremely soulful, and surprisingly groovy. It would be a good blindfold tune if not for Jarrett’s vocal accompaniment. Jarrett sounds like he is singing along with joy on “The Masquerade is Over,” that has none of the bittersweet quality commonly associated with the standard. “Meaning of the Blues” begins as blue as the blues get, but evolves into something else entirely, richly completing a disk that started something that would hold up well.

Standards Volume II begins with an elegantly swinging “So Tender,” Jarrett’s own slightly Latin standard from collaborations with Airto Moreira, and a bit of a ringer in the session. Again, the Standards Trio sets unconventional moods, as in “If I Should Lose You” which has little of the maudlin sentimentality usually associated with the song. Instead, there is an audible sense of joy—even an exultation of “whee” from Jarrett. Clearly, sensitive ballads continued to inspire, as on the closer, “I Fall in Love Too Easily,” but they still manage to take it in unexpected directions.

The final disk serves as the exception to the rule. Though recorded during the same period, Changes consists of three long original composition/improvisations, which gives a complete picture of the trio’s collective power. All three tracks are in fact quite melodic—elastic in form, but far from unstructured. “Flying Part 1” is fascinating look at their developing cohesion, as the intensity rises and falls. Peacock gives “Part 2” a greater sense of pulse, providing a launching pad for Jarrett’s explorations. The concluding “Prism” is more contemplative fare which Jarrett built his reputation.

Separately the 1983 releases have turned on a lot of Jarrett fans. Having them packaged together in Setting Standards represents a great value. Along with Heart, they account for five disks of Jarrett’s Standards Trio hitting the shelves in recent months, making a heavy statement about Jarrett’s prestige with his label and in the marketplace. It called for some extreme reviewing. It’s intense, but recommended—go ahead kids, try this at home.

(Note: Jarrett, Peacock and DeJohnette will perform at NJPAC Fe. 2nd. They will return to NY for a Carnegie Hall concert Oct. 18th.)

A Long Story

A Long Story
By Anat Fort
ECM 1994

The title of Anat Fort’s ECM debut refers to the story behind A Long Story’s release, starting with Fort’s pursuit of the legendary Paul Motian to play on her session. At first reluctant, the drummer was so enthusiastic about what he heard, he championed her to ECM’s Manfred Eicher. Three years later: an overnight success story is born. Not to cut a good story short, but the important thing in the long run is the music, and Fort’s A Long Story is impressive.

Story starts with the first of three variations on Fort’s “Just Now” theme. The first is a pensive trio performance, in which Fort’s graceful melody unfolds patiently, as Motian’s supportive brushwork testifies to why Fort sought him out. It is followed by another beautiful original arranged for the trio, “Morning: Good.” Here Fort shows a delicate touch on the piano, giving ample solo space to Ed Schuller on bass, but maintaining the lines of the lovely melody.

Schuller’s bass introduces “Lullabye,” a quartet feature, adding Perry Robinson on clarinet, sounding bluesier than one might expect from his freer work in the past. As a free improvisation between Fort and Robinson, “Chapter Two” is probably closer to Robinson’s free jazz roots, but the mood is playful, not abrasive.

With the second variation of “Just Now,” a thoughtful piano solo for the leader, the hues of Story turn darker. The original “Not a Dream?” is an accessible, but unsettling melody. “Rehaired” has a nervous energy, given urgency by Motian’s cymbal accents. Story finishes with the third variation of “Just Now,” this one a brief, mournful quartet.

Born in Israel, one would expect to hear international influences in Fort’s work, and there is a certain exoticism in “As Two/Something ‘Bout Camels,” which starts as a piano/clarinet duet, segueing into a feature for Robinson on ocarina.

Fort’s compositions are consistently rewarding. In addition to the stand out “Morning: Good,” Fort’s “Not the Perfect Storm” is a fascinating composition that hints at a brewing storm and flirts with turbulence, before resolving peacefully.

Throughout Story, the interplay between the musicians is striking. Fort is a very talented musician and composer. One hopes Story is the start of a long major label career for her.

(Story releases today, and Fort will be celebrating with a special performance at Birdland March 13.)