Der Titel dieses Albums lässt ein Feuerwerk karibischer
Rhythmen erwarten, vielleicht à la Gonzalo
Rubalcaba. Fast schon düster hingegen wirken
die ersten Töne zu ”L’étudiant noir”. Die sich
dahinter verbergende Spannung erinnert an ”Légitime
Défense” – so der Name einer Zeitschrift
aus den Dreissigerjahren, welche die Négritude
zum Thema hatte –, ein Begriff, der hier als Titel
des dritten Tracks auf der CD vorkommt. Im weiteren
Verlauf der Setlist werden die düsteren
Klänge dann allerdings zunehmend aufgelöst,
z. B. im bedeutenden ”We Belong to Those Who
Say No to Darkness”. Ortiz ist ein begnadeter
Techniker, der mit den Avantgarden des Jazz und
der zeitgenössischen bzw. Neuen Musik ebenso
vertraut ist wie mit den karibischen Traditionen
aus der eigenen Biographie. Die Titel seiner
”Creole Renaissance” sind eine Art ideologischer
Überbau, mit dem er sich ebenso auseinandersetzt
wie mit der Jazztradition, etwa in Form einer
Anspielung auf ”Sophisticated Lady” oder
kubanischen Traditionen, mit Anleihen bei Chan
Chan, das der Buena Vista Social Club in die
ganze Welt getragen hat. Eben, die ganze Welt ist
hier einbezogen in dieser eklektischen und gleichzeitig
kompakten, bewusst inszenierten Musik
von Aruán Ortiz. Wie der Titel des Songs ”From
the Distance of My Freedom” verrät, geht es um
eine Reflexion auf zwei Ebenen, der musikalischen
und der existenziellen.

"Two absorbing solo piano albums that in different ways reject the artistic imperative of a signature style. That is, they can't immediately be recognised from their opening notes. The work of Norwegian pianist Christian Wallumrød falls imprecisely between contemporary composition, jazz and improv. His Ensemble has recorded on ECM, and he's released the solo albums Pianokammer (2014) and Speaksome (2021). To describe Wallumrød as an unflashy player is an understatement.

The pieces on Percolation are rather less minimal, and less electronic, than on Speaksome. But the album opens with the halting, spare ""Marrowing"" and the nervous, fugitive ""Noble Fir"". Both pieces reflect Wallumrød's intense, narrow-focus interiority. Nordic church music's lilting plangency pervades ""Ny Gitar"", ""Deer Naylla"" and ""The Sing"". There are occasional electronic sounds, most notably on ""You Didn't"", which features echoey autoharp against an almost infrasonic doom-laden beat. On ""Higher Than Your Gluteus"" a looping, spongy acid house beat is gradually submerged by dark, minimal boogie-woogie.

Aruán Ortiz's album is less ingratiating, more uncompromising - though it generally projects a more conventional piano style. Créole Renaissance celebrates the racial self-consciousness of négritude, a concept developed by the Paris based journal L'Étudiant Noir (1935). The exploratory opening track, with the same title, seems to be constantly trying to evolve a groove, but failing. Generally, in fact, rather than grooves as such, the album features their residues. Figures gesture at montuno riffs before dissolving.

Ortiz always begins de novo, rejecting a signature style. But he's a personal artist nonetheless, his stylistic continuity developing a groundbreaking synthesis of Western modernism and Afro-Cuban roots music. ""Seven Aprils In Paris (And A Sophisticated Lady)"" is funereal and macabre while the lugubrious ""The Great Camouflage"" moves at a glacial pace - there's nothing uptempo here. Ortiz exploits occasional extended techniques, notably on ""We Belong To Those Who Say No To Darkness"" where strings are dampened to nasal thuds and metallic strums. The result is a sombre meditation by a modern master.

"Expat American drummer-composer Jim Black has exerted a huge impact on the Eu-ropean jazz scene over the years, but Better You Don't (Intakt; ★★★12 44:53), the second album from his band of young EU disciples The Schrimps, focuses on his pop-informed melodies. In fact, although all 10 tunes are instrumental, the liner notes include lyrics he penned once the band left the studio. The toe-tapping grooves and sleek tunefulness could inspire singalongs, but the way Dutch alto saxophonist Asger Nissen and German tenor saxophonist Julius Gawlik dig into the hooky themes, transplanting and heating up cool jazz verities in deftly braided multilinear improvisations, confirms the band's deep tra-ditional roots. Black and bassist Felix Henkel-hausen simultaneously maintain and dissect strutting rhythms, lighting a fire under the frontline's eloquent expressionism.

Aruán Ortiz
Créole Renaissance
Intakt CD441 (CD, DL) ★★★★☆ Editor’s Choice
Aruán Ortiz (p).

Despite the malign efforts of a hostile US state department and, some would say, its own government, the small nation of Cuba continues to produce a steady stream of world-class athletes, artists and musicians – outstanding pianists in particular. Aruán Ortiz is one such: native to Santiago De Cuba but now resident in Brooklyn, he’s established a formidable reputation as a performer and composer equally at home with the diverse traditions of jazz, Afro-Cuban music, and the European avant-garde.

This, his second solo recording (released on 28 August), evokes the spirits of Schoenberg, Messiaen, and Ligeti as much as Bebo Valdés, Don Pullen, or Cecil Taylor. It’s a stimulating rather than an easy listen: eschewing regular tempo, conventional harmony and easily digestible melody, Ortiz deploys his formidable technique across every part of the piano, alternating deep bass thumps with frantic tone clusters on ‘L’Etudiant Noir’, strumming and plucking the strings on ‘We Belong Too Those Who Say No To Darkness’, dropping plangent dissonances into a well of silence on the Morton Feldman-esque ‘The Great Camouflage’.

Only on ‘Lo Que Yo Quiero Es Chan Chan’, written in tribute to the famous tune by Compay Segundo, is there any overt reference to the Afro-Cuban tradition. Instead, as both the title and the spoken word interlude of ‘From The Distance Of My Freedom’ suggest, Ortiz is inspired by the tradition of black diasporic experimentation exemplified by the mid-20th century Négritude movement. A challenging, intellectually rigorous but rewarding listen from a major artist.

Check out the final track and you'll hear why Toronto's Rich Brown is hailed as one of the finest electric bassists on the planet. His new solo album, Nyaeba, is filled with over-the-moon technique and electronic wizardry. English bassist Neil Charles' debut, Dark Days , is fueled by the words of James Baldwin, while guitarist Gregg Belisle-Chi continues to explore his fascination with the compositions of Tim Berne. Another solo exploration comes from pianist Aruán Ortiz, continuing to dig deep into the heart of Afro-Cuban music. Argentinians Fabio Rodríguez Piñas. Lucas Albarracín & Matías Formica blaze through their first-meeting free jazz session while Dave Sewelson, bearded master of the baritone sax, is in familiar company on the new Muscle Memory. I think you'll find something you will like in this edition of One Man's Jazz.

Playlist

Linda May Han Oh "Living Proof" from Strange Heavens (Biophilia) 00:00
host speaks 04:12
Dave Sewelson "Muscle Memory" from Muscle Memory (Mahakala Music) 06:25
Smooth Elevator "Slow Mover" from Moving Target (Losen) 23:19
host speaks 31:00
Neil Charles "They Do Not See" from Dark Days (Jazz Now) 32:47
Satoko Fujii Quartet "Low" from Dog Days Of Summer (Libra) 39:43
Tim Berne "Yikes" from Yikes Too (Out Of Your Head) 46:22
host speaks 53:00
Gregg Belisle-Chi "Yikes" from Slow Crawl—Performing The Music Of Tim Berne (Intakt) 54:47
Olie Brice Quartet "And We Dance On The Firm Earth" from All It Was (Westhill) 1:00:28
Irreversible Entanglements "Fireworks" from Irreversible Entanglements (International Anthem) 1:06:39
host speaks 1:15:51
Sifter "Chant" from Flake/Fracture (Queen Bee) 1:17:36
Felix Henkelhausen Quintet "Particle One: For Emac" from Deranged Particles (Enja) 1:25:30
Juán Chiavassa "To Michael Brecker" from Fourth Generation (Whirlwind) 1:31:32
host speaks 1:39:49
Aruan Ortiz "From The Distance Of My Freedom" from Creole Renaiisance—Piano Solo (Intakt) 1:42:48
Lily Finnegan's Heat On "RSJ" from Heat On (Cuneiform) 1:50:26
Miguel Angelo Trio "God And Einstein" from Distopia (+Records) 1:56:06
host speaks 2:01:17
Fabio Rodríguez Piñas.: Lucas Albarracín & Matías Formica "Mandala Del Guerrero" from Esfera (dForma Discos) 2:03:29
Dan Rosenboom "Coordinate 1: Many Worlds, Many Dances" from Coordinates (Orenda) 2:11:20
host speaks 2:15:44
Rich Brown "Heart Of A Lonely Woman" from Nyaeba (Whirlwind) 2:17:55

https://www.allaboutjazz.com/dave-sewelson-aruan-ortiz-neil-charles-and-rich-brown

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QMy7-UfOGdzVUI_wRVdH_AKRwCyj04GB/view?usp=drive_link

Review: Aruán Ortiz’s ‘Créole Renaissance’
August 25, 2025by Jim Hynes
The well-decorated Cuban-born, Brooklyn-based pianist Aruán Ortiz has developed his reputation in the avant-garde or free jazz world. Typically, when thinking of a free jazz pianist, Cecil Taylor, or more recently, Matthew Shipp, comes to most people’s minds. Ortiz only barely resembles either, rarely taking free-form rollicking excursions on this album. He is far more minimalist in conveying his messages. Nonetheless, he leaves a stunning impact. Each note and chord on his second solo album, Créole Renaissance (Intakt, 2025), is deliberate and carefully considered, but in furtherance of a creativity that is limitless. To these ears, he sublimates his renowned prodigious technique to shape the story while at the same time drawing from avant-garde influences, as well as Schoenberg, Messiaen, and Bebo Valdez. Listen carefully, though, to find him quoting Ellington or the Cuban artist, Company Segundo. But the album is also not an easy listen. It is meant to be provocative and is mostly somber and meditative. It demands attention and closed eyes.

It’s also gratifying when writing reviews of this type to learn something new about history. Ortiz focuses on Negritude, the cultural, political, and literary movement that awakened racial consciousness and emerged from French intellectuals in the 1930s, as an element of the African diaspora. He was inspired by poets such as Aimé and Suzanne Cesaire, as well as René Menil’s new kind of narrative of Afrodisaporic life and history in the Caribbean. These are the deep roots of Black experimentation. His writing assails the legacy of colonialism and the European power that once dominated the world. As such, half of the track titles are in French, the other half in English.

On the opening, “L’Etudiant noir,” Ortiz begins somberly in the lower register, eventually encompassing the entire keyboard in an effort to delineate the huge gaps between those in power and the powerless, as gleaned from poet Edouard Glissant’s “the determining gaps.” The piece ends with an emphatic bass chord. Arguably, the most evocative track is “Seven Aprils in Paris (And a Sophisticated Lady).” The piece unfolds gently as if he’s painting a lazy spring day in Paris, brightening the palette slightly when the classy lady comes into view. All is quiet as he observes from a distance. He is likely contrasting the peace of “that world” with the unrest felt by those of color. The brief “Legitime Defense” is angular and disjointed, one of the few free jazz excursions, put to an abrupt finale.

Maybe the most personal track is “From the Distance of my Freedom,” where Ortiz delivers spoken word posing questions about the place of the colonized, skin color, African identity, and what it feels like to be excluded. Some call it the feeling of being invisible. Ortiz calls it “silent exclusion.” Following the words, he moves into varying tempos and dynamics, moving ever so unpredictably, sometimes with a mere swipe of a key. The brief title track is aptly stormy, infused with repetitive motifs. “The Great Camouflage” takes the opposite tack, a dramatic series of dark chords with glimpses of treble and ample space between each. “Deuxième Miniature (Dancing)” becomes more animated, but Ortiz manages to insert dark chords and notes, giving the piece a mix of joy and angst; a tone of anxiety.

Those three pieces seem to serve as a preamble to the culminating one, “We Belong to Those Who Say No to Darkness.” Here, Ortiz uses a variety of techniques, i including dampening the strings to produce thuds and metallic strums. The piano sounds like a different instrument – a zither, oud, or possibly an electric guitar. Like “The Great Camouflage,” the piece unfolds very deliberately. The title is drawn from Cesaire’s defiant preface to the first issue of Tropiques, where he writes that although “the shadow” of imperialism seems to be encroaching in many aspects of life, still “we belong to those who say no to the shadow. We know that the salvation of the world depends on us, too.” These are writings from practically a century ago. Consider that this week alone in the States, we had a President comment that the Smithsonian museum focused too much on slavery, and that the Texas House of Representatives passed a redistricting plan to curtail the voting rights of people of color. Colonialism has again reared its ugly head.

It would seem Ortiz has made his major statement through the prior piece. “The Haberdasher” is more melodic and brighter. “Lo que you quiero es Chan Chan” is based on a song by Cuban artist Compay Segundo, perhaps a statement of his people finding joy in resistance, or simply an embrace of his Afro-Cuban roots. Yet, the piece just ends in a descending murmur, a statement in itself.

This is urgent music, a wakeup call that shuns the bombastic in favor of a quietly compelling peaceful protest.

Pianist Myra Melford returns to the classic piano trio format for the first time since The Guest House (Enja, 2011), her acclaimed outing with Trio M with Mark Dresser and Matt Wilson. This time, the lineup is no less formidable: bassist Michael Formanek and drummer/vibraphonist Ches Smith—both commanding improvisers and bandleaders—join her for a set that reaffirms the trio as a site for invention rather than formula.

As with her 2022 quintet project For the Love of Fire and Water (Rogue Art, 2020), Melford's compositional spark here comes from the art of Cy Twombly, whose work blends abstraction and symbolism in ways that find an analogue in her own methods. Across ten compositions, she frames clear thematic architecture while granting her co-conspirators ample freedom to roam within the conceptual boundary fence, an approach that favors interplay over display.

The opener, "Drift," immediately confirms, this is ensemble music. Formanek's pliant bass riff and Smith's buoyant pulse provide a launchpad for a piano theme tightly coiled yet porous enough for spontaneous detours. Melford builds from the material without severing melodic or rhythmic ties, while bass and drums free up in that amorphous realm between commentary and dialogue, before cresting in a muscular climax. Formanek answers with a pizzicato solo—staggered, lyrical, and buoyed by chiming piano and Smith's resonant vibes—until the percussionist transitions gradually back to the kit for a taut recapitulation.

Melford's openness is especially pronounced in the three "Interlude" tracks. On "Interlude I," Formanek's bowing rises and falls like an incantatory supplication, as piano and vibes entwine in a motif of crystalline clarity. "Interlude III" features Smith's metallic clank and shimmer over rippling bass and forceful piano fragments. As in his tenure with Tim Berne's Snakeoil, Smith's idiosyncratic mastery of the vibraphone serves as more than ornament—it extends the harmonic and textural range, something Melford exploits to the full, as it surfaces on almost every cut. A piano/vibes axis might summon thoughts of chamber intimacy, but while there are moments of bucolic gentleness, they are more than offset by unfettered eruptions.

That volatility explodes on "Wayward Time," where Melford's terse, declarative phrases meet a thorny weave of bass and percussion. The pianist's two-handed flurries slice through the thicket, riding the trio's shifting density rather than imposing over it. On "Dry Print for Twombly," she unfurls into a cascade of closely knotted figures, evoking a crammed minimalism, before spilling into sweeping glissandi—an assertion of the piano's percussive potential that complements her structural acuity.

Rather than treating the trio as a reduction from larger groups, Splash envisions it as an expansion inward, revealing how much space and drama can be conjured from three distinct yet deeply attuned voices. Melford's writing gives shape without constriction; Formanek and Smith respond with a shared vocabulary that makes each piece a sustained act of collective creation. It is a reminder that the piano trio, in the right hands, remains one of jazz's most elastic and exploratory vessels.

https://www.allaboutjazz.com/splash-myra-melford-intakt

"Jim Black ist kein körperbetonter Schlagwerker. Bei ihm steckt der Groove im Detail, in kleinen, blitzschnellen Breaks, dem unerwarteten Auslassen scheinbar lang zuvor geplanter Taktmuster und einem inneren, unwiderstehlichen Drang, die gesamte Musik nach vorn zu treiben. Seine rhythmischen Meriten sind das Ergebnis einer mehr introvertiert, aber anspruchsvollen Spontanität, was nicht bedeutet, sein Spiel hätte nur wenig Wirkung.
Zwischen fragmentarischer Disziplin und originärer Ekstase ist der in Seattle aufgewachsene Black sowohl ein beseelter Chronist des Jazz, als auch ein Erneuerer, ein Suchender – bis in die unterschiedlichsten ethnologischen Enklaven hinein.
Seine Band Schrimps, bestehend seit 2022, findet auch auf „Better You Don't“ eine Balance, zwischen dem Umsetzen von markant, expressiven Ideen, lyrischen Spannungen und einem treibenden, rhythmischen Drive. Der heute in New York lebende Black hat sich, wie eigentlich immer in seinen Bands, junge Musiker gesucht, die in ihrer Arbeit von seiner Erfahrung profitieren und gleichzeitig eine Frische und Unbedarftheit in die Musik bringen, wie sie für jedes kreative Unternehmen nur von Vorteil sind. Zu Schrimpf gehören der nicht einmal dreißigjährige Asgar Nissen aus Dänemark am Altsaxophon, der ebenso junge Julius Gawlik am Tenorsaxophon und Bassist Felix Henkelhausen – wie Gawlik aus Deutschland stammend. Sie widmen sich den Kompositionen des Leaders mit Hingabe, finden immer wieder Raum, um eigene, individuelle Beiträge detailreich einzupflechten. Wobei im Bereich der Avantgarde nirgends eine Form von Elitarismus zu spüren ist. Die Band bleibt zusammen, lässt sich von den Kompositionen und der antipathetischen Dynamik untereinander leiten. Instrumental- und Kollektivkunst auf höchstem Niveau.

https://www.kultkomplott.de/Artikel/Musik/"

Three of today's premier saxophonists share this edition's spotlight, as all have new releases—John O’Gallagher, Ivo Perelman & Jon Irabagon. O'Gallagher, now living in Portugal, reunites with guitarist Ben Monder on his new Ancestral and pulls off a first for master drummers Billy Hart who had never played together. Perelman, on the other hand, brings together musicians he knows well for his new A Modicum Of The Blues: Nate Wooley, Matt Moran, Mark Helias & Tom Rainey have all appeared on recent Perelman recordings. Irabagon too turns to old connections from the Chicago area where he now resides. Someone To Someone is an acoustic set compared to his earlier release. Tomas Fujiwara introduces a new percussion quartet on his new Dream-Up; Patricia Brennan is on board for this one. There's plenty of other great music, including the introduction of Russian transplant saxophonist Olga Amelchenko, a fervent quartet of vocalist Luisa Muhr, saxophonist Daniel Carter, bassist Kenneth Jimenez & drummer Alfred Vogel, music from the Taragot Sounds label out of Norway, and a closing set from the late singer Leon Thomas. Let's go down to Lucy's"!!!!

Playlist

Matthieu Donarier Quartet "Ebb Tide" from Coastline (Yolk) 00:00
host speaks 05:54
Ivo Perelman "A Modicum Of The Blues Part 5" from A Modicum Of The Blues (Fundacja Slucaj) 07:35
Matthew Putman, Hill Greene & Francisco Mela "Renewal & Forward" from Believe That Was Me (577 Records) 17:32
Hot Heros "Eagle Mountain" from Days After The Rodeo (Eclipse Music) 23:05
host speaks 30:52
John O'Gallagher "Awakening" from Ancestral (Whirlwind) 33:19
Jakob Bro Large Ensemble "Black Is all The Colors At Once" from New Morning (Loveland) 39:48
Jim Black & The Schrimps "OK Yrself" from Better You Don't (Intakt) 45:29
host speaks 51:09
Tomas Fujiwara "You Don't Have To Try" from Dream-Up (Out Of Your Head) 53:08
Louis Sclavis Quintet "Une Theatre Sur Les Docks" from India (Yolk) 1:02:03
Terrence McManus & Billy Drewes "Love That Dance" from Normal Nightmares (Row House Music) 1:09:40
host speaks 1:14:12
Tellefs "Pa Akeren Ut" from Upstairs In A Tent (Taragot Sounds) 1:16:46
Knut Kvifte Nesheim "Give It Hands and Feet" from Deliverable (Taragot Sounds) 1:21:44
Fabian Arends/Fosterchild "Phullotaxis" from Order At Agan (Boomslang) 1:27:45
Fabian Arends/Fosterchild "First Episode" from Order At Agan (Boomslang) 1:36:20
host speaks 1:41:38
Jon Irabagon Plainspeak}} "At What Price Garlic" from Someone To Someone (Irrabagast) 1:44:05
Phil Haynes "Spectrum" from Return To Electric (Corner Store) 1:54:46
Jaleel Shaw "Contemplation" from Painter of the Invisible (Changu) 1:58:52
Luisa Muhr, Daniel Carter, Kenneth Jimenez & Alfred Vogel "Under Over World" from Under Over World (Boomslang) 2:06:05
host speaks 2:14:31
Miguel Angelo "Universe Inflation" from Distopia (+ Records) 2:16:53
Olga Amelchenko "Howling Silence" from Howling Silence (Edition) 2:23:55
host speaks 2:29:01
Leon Thomas "C.C. Rider" from Blues & The Soulful Truth (Flying Dutchman) 2:29:38
Leon Thomas "Let's Go Down To Lucy's" from Blues & The Soulful Truth (Flying Dutchman) 2:35:56
Leon Thomas "The Creator Has A Master Plan" from Spirits Known And Unknown (Flying Dutchman) 2:40:17

https://www.allaboutjazz.com/john-ogallagher-ivo-perelman-jon-irabagon-and-tomas-fujiwara

Guitarist Gregg Belisle-Chi’s longtime attachment to the singularly modern jazz of saxophonist Tim Berne led him to make a record of all Berne songs. Koi: Performing the Music of Tim Berne (2021) kicked off a mini-wave of overdue Berne tribute albums and Belisle-Chi himself had ended up playing in Berne-led ensembles, mostly as a duo or trio. But that close collaboration with his musical hero hadn’t quenched his thirst to cover Berne songs apart from Berne in his own voice.

Thus, the Brooklyn based-guitarist is offering a whole new set of Berne covers. Performed again solely on acoustic guitar, Slow Crawl: Performing the Music of Tim Berne, Vol. 2 (August 15, 2025) can be regarded as a straight continuation of the stunning Koi collection, and also like that earlier album, it’s loaded with Berne songs not previously heard anywhere else.

“Yikes” is one from the Berne-led trio that includes Belisle-Chi and drummer Tom Rainey. This rendition follows the blueprint Berne carried out for this band’s Yikes Too album that came out at the beginning of 2025, yet, Belisle-Chi makes it possible to untangle this tightly packed, seemingly polyharmonic composition. “Sorry” strips down the “Sorry Variations” (also from Yikes Too) down to its core pattern, revealing that when the improv parts are removed, Berne songs are often not nearly as knotted as they can seem to be.

Belisle-Chi could have easily drawn more tunes from that record, as he’s so familiar with them from regular club dates with the trio, but he wasn’t so interested in an ‘easy’ way out. “Cluster” is drawn from Berne’s only unaccompanied album Sacred Vowels (2020), so Belisle-Chi is able to portray the chords Berne could only imply, and does so at an unhurried pace as to allow the song to fully breathe and unfold.

As far as I can tell, the rest of the fare can’t be found on any Tim Berne recording, thus it’s assumed that Berne wrote them for this certain project, as indicated by Belisle-Chi’s own liner notes.

https://somethingelsereviews.com/2025/08/14/gregg-belisle-chi-slow-crawl-performing-the-music-of-tim-berne-vol-2-2025-aug-15/

The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis’ strongest statement on wax yet. He and his quartet power the music with passion, pur
pose and propulsion.

The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis’ “molecular systematic music” Quartet can threaten to smother creativity with its involved
thematics but on their latest record they sink into a slower register, playing through beautiful
ballads and downtempo, fractal melodies with a signature deftness of touch. A complex album
that is a joy to encounter.

Where on the first solo outing by British pianist Alexander Hawkins, Song Singular (Babel, 2014), his influences strode in plain sight, and the second, Iron Into Wind (Intakt, 2019), in its austerity, nodded toward Hawkins' classical schooling, Song Unconditional feels simultaneously more personal and more welcoming. It finds Hawkins not only consolidating the vocabulary of his earlier output but distilling it into something strikingly self- assured.

Since that initial unaccompanied foray, Hawkins has become one of the most in demand voices in modern improvised music. A valued colleague of Anthony Braxton, Joe McPhee, Nicole Mitchell, and Evan Parker, among others, he draws from an expansive range—both his encyclopedic command of the jazz canon and deep affinity for classical idioms inform a technique that is as rigorous as it is imaginative. The material stems from a lockdown-era correspondence with regular collaborator cellist {[Tomeka Reid}}, in which the pair challenged one another to compose a piece daily for 100 days. Hawkins' notebooks from that time hold the genesis of these 13 short cuts which retain the vim and vigor of the best extemporizations.

Just because Hawkins is alone in the studio does not mean that he has to abandon the layerings and juxtapositions which are a feature of so many of his ensembles. His prodigious hand independence keeps multiple plates spinning -as lines part company, run parallel or intersect, sometimes clashing, sometimes coalescing into unexpected structures. On "Two Trees Equal," this contrapuntal thinking takes center stage, a high-velocity exchange that teeters between dialogue and divergence. "Song of Interdependence" recalls the astringent lyricism of early Keith Jarrett filtered through the player piano works of Conlon Nancarrow, evoking a kinetic, breathless momentum.

Melodies here tend to be elusive and fragmentary, but Hawkins knows how to make them linger. "Satin Antiphonal" introduces one of the album's most arresting motifs: clipped upper-register figures sparring with a jabbing, low-end pulse, thickening in texture as it moves toward a richly sonorous close. Nonetheless, "Song of Balance" stands as the clearest homage to the lineage of Duke Ellington and Thelonious Monk.

Many numbers unfold into self-contained sound worlds. There is little conventional resolution in Song Unconditional, but Hawkins never aims for closure. Instead, he favors a modular approach, crafting miniatures that hover, suggesting more than they declare. The final track, "Song of a Quiet Ecstatic," gestures toward leave-taking, but with a provisional feel—an ending that doubles as an invitation.

In his most personal solo offering to date, Hawkins does not just straddle the line between improvisation and composition—he renders it moot. The result is a compelling suite that reveals itself with a sense of intricate, evolving possibility.

https://www.allaboutjazz.com/song-unconditional-alexander-hawkins-intakt__16280

The HOT Box , August 2025

Lewis delivers his abstractions with an erudite restraint and formality. Many early and mid-Col
trane modalities, some infused with restless passion but more with a relaxed, evenhanded
caution, allowing the listener to project any transcendence.

"Dieser Sommer ist gut gefüllt mit Piano Solo. Neben Sophie Agnel, Stephen Grew, Matt Mitchell und Amina Claudine Myers, um nur einige zu nennen, sticht vor allem der britischen Pianist Alexander Hawkins mit Herz-****. ..Song Unconditional"" ist seine dritte Soloaufnahme und spiegelt sowohl die Verfeinerung seiner Technik, als auch die Weiterentwicklung seiner Signatur. Hawkins fasziniert durch Reduktion auf das Wesentliche. Überwältigung interessiert ihn nicht, seine Musik ist Freiheit pur. Dennoch fesseln seine kompakten Kompositionen mittels einer Fülle von Emotionen. Hawkins nutzte alle Mittel seiner Kunst, um mit Polyfonie, Kakofonie, mit alter Stim mung und neuen Klangfarben das gute alte Piano zum Leuchten zu bringen. Wer das weite Spektrum seiner Interessen, von polyphon singenden Pygmäenstämmen Zentralafrikas, Gamelan aus Bali, über Klassik bis hin zur zeitgenössischen Musik kennt, ahnt womit seine Synapsen aufgeladen sind. Kein Wunder also, wenn er uns zunächst radikal Neues zwischen die Ohren knallt, um uns im nächsten Augenblick in rosa Zuckerwatte zu betten. Lieblingslied „Song Of Work Still To Do"" - too good to be true.

Slow Crawl: Performing the Music of Tim Berne (Intakt CD 443), das ist wieder GREGG BELISLE-CHI, allein an Gitarren – wie bei „Koi“ auf Relative Pitch. Als Ein­geweihter durch das Zusammenspiel mit Berne nicht nur bei „Mars“ (Intakt), „Zone One“ und „Yikes Too“ (mit noch Tom Rainey, beides auf Screwgun), sondern ständig in Brooklyn, wo Belisle-Chi ansonsten mit Chelsea Crabtree, Stomu Takeishi, Henry Threadgill oder Reid Andersons Slow Reactors performt. Hier nimmt er einen – auf der Akustischen (!) – mit in die edelfingrigsten Gefilde. Denkt an Al Di Meola, Ralph Towner, Wolfgang Muthspiel... Und dass da einer in das Berne'sche Fleisch sein Herzblut ergießt. Oder wie eine Biene an den Blüten zugleich nimmt und gibt. [BA 129 rbd]

ARUÁN ORTIZ setzt mit Créole Renaissance (Intakt CD 441) die bei „Cub(an)ism“ vollzo­gene Kreuzung seiner kubanischen Wurzeln mit modernistischer Kubistik fort. In durch Appropriation und Detournement selbstermächtigter Négritude und Hommage an die Har­lem Renaissance und die Pariser Zeitschriften 'L'Étudiant noir' und 'Tropiques'. Als sur­realer Mischmasch von Kolonialem und Kolonialisiertem, Low und High (bei der Tonset­zung des Auftakts ganz wörtlich), Sophistication und Feeling, Zeitlupe und Abruptheit, zu gemeiselter Arthouse-Klassik sublimiertem B-Jazz. Als Blackness, die sich Aimé Césaires „say no to the shadow“ zu eigen macht ('We Belong to Those Who Say No to Darkness', mit präpariertem Klavier) und verknüpft mit Abstraktionen von Duke Ellington ('Seven Aprils in Paris (and A Sophisticated Lady)') und Compay Segundo ('Lo que yo quiero es Chan Chan'). Mit programmatischen Worten bei 'From the Distance of My Freedom' und Episoden wie das dramatische 'Légitime Défense', das schläfrig tuende 'The Great Camouflage' und 'The Haberdasher', wo Rechte und Linke sich nur peu à peu so einig werden wie Herz und Verstand es schon sind. [BA 129 rbd]

Moody, contemplative and gorgeously expressive, Abstraction Is Deliverance is the work of a quartet that deserves its place in the front rank of contemporary creative music. With the exception of the title piece — the album’s most aggressive performance, featuring high-level interplay and an extremely powerful saxophone component — this is a dark hued work that’s both eloquent and emotive. Displaying roots that extend from modalism effortless to melodicism that echoes the impressionism of Debussy and Ravel, the band’s fifth outing stakes its place among the best recordings of this decade. The opening “Ware” illuminates the lineage from Newk and Trane to the titular David S. Ware with a fervid rhythmic underpinning and Lewis’ meditative lead, while “Remember Rosalind” layers a winsome melody over Chad Taylor’s slowly churning accompaniment. The oft-recorded “Left Alone” drifts on Taylor’s reiterative foundation and Brad Jones’ resonant toms, providing fertile ground for Lewis’ rich exposition of the Billie Holiday/Mal Waldron melody. Above all, this is a band that appreciates texture. “Multicellular Beings” and “Per 7” are both prime examples of how these four can shift their traditional roles to build performances that seem so purpose-built that listeners may mistake them for through-composed work. Over the course of its five recordings, Lewis’ quartet has grown into the one of the most eloquent improvising groups in recent history. They appear to be transforming their 41-year-old Swiss boutique label the way John Coltrane did for Impulse! in the ’60s.

Dieser Sommer ist gut gefüllt mit Piano Solo. Neben Sophie Agnel, Stephen Grew, Matt Mitchell und Amina Claudine Myers, um nur einige zu nennen, sticht vor allem der britischen Pianist Alexander Hawkins mit Herz-****. ..Song Unconditional" ist seine dritte Soloaufnahme und spiegelt sowohl die Verfeinerung seiner Technik, als auch die Weiterentwicklung seiner Signatur. Hawkins fasziniert durch Reduktion auf das Wesentliche. Überwältigung interessiert ihn nicht, seine Musik ist Freiheit pur. Dennoch fesseln seine kompakten Kompositionen mittels einer Fülle von Emotionen. Hawkins nutzte alle Mittel seiner Kunst, um mit Polyfonie, Kakofonie, mit alter Stim mung und neuen Klangfarben das gute alte Piano zum Leuchten zu bringen. Wer das weite Spektrum seiner Interessen, von polyphon singenden Pygmäenstämmen Zentralafrikas, Gamelan aus Bali, über Klassik bis hin zur zeitgenössischen Musik kennt, ahnt womit seine Synapsen aufgeladen sind. Kein Wunder also, wenn er uns zunächst radikal Neues zwischen die Ohren knallt, um uns im nächsten Augenblick in rosa Zuckerwatte zu betten. Lieblingslied „Song Of Work Still To Do" - too good to be true.

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1Y7HI-FC-LvJPozgrpZZVcmAvcKFj--9-/view?usp=drive_link

JIM BLACK & THE SCHRIMPS, das sind nach “Ain't No Saint” auch bei Better You Don't (Intakt CD 440) wieder die Saxer Asger Nissen und Julius Gawlik und der Kontrabassist Felix Henkelhausen an der Seite des großen Drummers, der seine Erfahrung mit Human Feel, Tiny Bell, Paradox, Pachora, AlasNoAxis, Carlos Bica & Azul und dem Trio mit Ste­meseder & Morgan mit nach Berlin gebracht hat. Die Instrumentierung ist die von Blood­count, und prompt wird Nissen, wie Gawlik noch Twen, aber schon mit dem Standing durch Nissen Mosh, ein Anklang an Tim Berne zugeschrieben. Black hat als Clou die zehn Instrumentals als Songs mit Lyrics im Kopf, mit Strophen wie and “don’t kill children” / so my elder did say / witnessing the endgame / indifference is / not a clever way for anyone to avoid blame und damage lasts for years and the / pain and sorrow sadness brings / and now I know what mothers meant / that things were better back / in the past('Backtracks'). Oder you’re a dog / bad dog / always chasing what won’t stay // oh my dog / broken dog / you don’t know where you belong... ('Cane di Male'). Die Saxophone 'singen' das ohne Worte in verschlungenen Dialogen und kontrapunktischen 'Selbstgesprächen', die den kri­tischen und selbstkritischen Tenor in Feeling andeuten. Mit Fingerspitzengefühl pointiert und kernig oder delikat rhythmisiert, dreht und wendet sich Tristesse in Vitalität, Dynamik in Melancholie, als untrennbare Siamesische Zwillinge bei 'OK Yrself' ähnlich wie bei 'It Waits For You'. Der Duktus ist durchwegs sehr dicht und beredt: ...who decides this mad­ness / as the way to be / i remain / the same old face / inside a different frame / but i / i long for something better than this time... (Only Sleep'). Ohne Leitfaden reimen The Schrimps 'Stone Placid' auf das gerüttelte und geklopfte 'Extra Acid', und die 'Message', dass das Leben halsbrecherisch ist und Singen gut tut, kommt an. [BA 129 rbd]

The “Que Jazz É Este?” festival has always shown a thoughtful commitment to presenting concerts tailored to more discerning audiences, often (though not exclusively) at Teatro Viriato. The young Swiss pianist Marie Krüttli returned to Portugal for the third time. After captivating listeners in Porto and Braga, it was Viseu’s turn to welcome this rising star of contemporary European jazz.

Her music dwells in a delicate space, suspended between serenity and tension. Krüttli shapes her compositions with an openness that invites the listener in, building from small, striking melodic and harmonic fragments — concise and refined — that serve as the music’s structural heart. Her writing is meticulous yet never rigid: it breathes, it listens, and it embraces improvisation. This openness is a hallmark of a certain stream within European jazz — one that distances itself from American rubato and familiar standards, favoring a more abstract path, unbound by tradition and rich in sonic texture.

Krüttli plays with remarkable grace — understated, yet intensely present. The double bass weaves its own melodic thread, not merely supporting the piano, but responding to it, expanding it. The drums do far more than keep time; they conjure an entire sonic landscape, rhythmic and textural, layered and alive. Together, the trio creates a compelling interplay where each instrument charts its own course, yet remains deeply connected to the others. The result is a sound architecture that’s intricate and alive — a thoroughly modern take on the classic jazz trio. One senses the unity of the group, but also the distinct voice of each musician, intertwining without ever overpowering one another. It’s music that demands attentive listening — and offers deep reward in return.

There are no dramatic emotional peaks; instead, the music burns with a quiet intensity. Restraint here does not mean absence — it means depth. Each piece unfolds in contrasting episodes, carefully crafted and connected with sensitivity. Krüttli performed compositions from her new album as well as some yet-to-be-recorded works. The transitions between pieces were so fluid, it was often hard to tell where one ended and the next began.

Her piano voice lies somewhere between the lyrical elegance of Paul Bley and the visceral density of Cecil Taylor, blended into a language that is uniquely her own. One moment in particular stood out — a duet between piano and drums, free, raw, and deeply musical — a moment of pure dialogue, where sound became conversation, and time seemed to suspend.

https://jazz.pt/reports/perguntar-nunca-e-demais

Her artistry 'stems from having grown up in two counties that defeated the West: Ethiopia and Vietnam'
CHRIS SEARLE speaks to Ethiopian vocalist SOFIA JERNBERG

PERHAPS it was her childhood experiences that have made the Ethiopian singer Sofia Jernberg such a powerful and audacious musical internationalist. Her new album, Musho, allied with the brilliant and empathetic Oxford-born pianist Alexander Hawkins, has songs from Ethiopia, Armenia, medieval Sweden and Shakespearian England. And she states with pride that her artistry “stems from having grown up in two counties that defeated the West: Ethiopia and Vietnam.”

“I was born in Addis Ababa in 1983 and grew up with a single mother who adopted me while she was working as a diplomat in the Swedish embassy. She worked in Ethiopia and Vietnam before we arrived in Sweden when I was 10, when she started work at the Swedish International Development Agency. We had an electric piano and record player at home and I listened to music from all over the world. The LP player became my best friend. I was constantly singing, but never thought it could be a profession until I was in my mid-teens.”

“I speak four European languages well, but understand many more. My mother spoke Amharic and loved Ethiopia, so it has always been a part of my life, but its culture for me was always connected to a deep sorrow and involuntary separation. Ethiopia went through a lot in the ’80s and ’90s, and we engaged closely with that.

“I didn't know what jazz was until my teenage years. Before that my interest was Western classical music. But I was always curious about all kinds of music, and as I looked at jazz shelves in libraries and record stores that curiosity deepened. I struggled to understand it, did all the listening to myself and never talked to anyone about it. I went to jazz concerts and avant-garde performances by myself, never talking to anyone about it. I never studied music at a higher level, but learned what I needed — how to read and write music and learned by doing, listening to and playing records of musicians I admired.

“I didn't become a full professional singer until I was 30, but had stood on a stage and sung regularly since I was 10, since I went to choir school.”

She developed a love of many art forms, including dance and visual performance. “I chose music because it’s a language in itself. It brings people together and unites us in a strange way. I sing with people who often have opposite views to myself, who are twice my age and who I would never meet otherwise. All the ugly social structures go away when we make music. I’m a musician rather than a singer, and I sing without words for a whole concert to achieve that. Words can sometimes get in the way, and singing without them means that everyone, regardless of language, can access what I sing.”

What about her partnership with the protean Hawkins?

“We met when the musical director of Bimhuis, the Netherlands jazz club, put us together. I love Alex’s ambition, dedication and creativity in his life of music and piano, constantly pushing himself, always evolving and surprising me with the most magical moments. His musical knowledge is very rich and we share a love for all kinds of music, which is why I so often learn something new or different, because of something he said.”

Why is the album called Musho?

“It means ‘sad song’ in Amharic, and it was clear from the start that we would play melancholic music. My favourite track on the album is Willow, Willow, Desdemona’s lament from Othello. I was so pleased that Alex wanted to play something English, for the English music tradition connects us and has given me so much.”

Musho exemplifies the gloriously syncretic power of jazz, and Hawkins’s always surprising pianism unites with Jernberg’s voice in a brotherly musical fellowship to her surging, saddening and always deeply moving voice. When she sings the traditional Ethiopian song, Adwa, remembering the victory of Ethiopian forces over the invading Italian army in 1896, there is both a defiance and soulfulnness in her voice that eclipses all genres.

In that sense her voice embodies the cosmopolitan spirit of Robeson, Makeba, Peggy Seeger, Woody Guthrie and Nina Simone, and has a global reach which sings for all humanity.

Musho is released by Intakt records

https://morningstaronline.co.uk/article/her-artistry-stems-having-grown-two-counties-defeated-west-ethiopia-and-vietnam

Quando Ware, prima traccia del nuovo lavoro di James Brandon Lewis, dedicata al compositore David S. Ware, comincia a “girare”, come spesso accade per i suoi dischi, sembra che il nuovo pezzo sia la prosecuzione di un pezzo ininterrotto che arriva dalle lontananze dei primi lavori del grande saxofonista statunitense. Invece Abstraction Is Deliverance, così si intitola il nuovo album uscito per l’etichetta Intakt Records, è il quinto lavoro dell’ormai consolidato James Brandon Lewis Quartet con Aruán Ortiz, al piano, Brad Jones al contrabbasso e Chad Taylor alla batteria. Accade lo stesso con Per 7, dove il sax di Brandon Lewis imperioso e possente porta a spasso il quartetto in atmosfere raffinate, calde e dai toni meditativi di un groove pacificato col mondo.

E la stessa cosa si può dire di Even the Sparrow, il nastro scorre e le liriche melodie, di quelle che lo stesso Brandon Lewis definisce ballate, si susseguono in infinite variazioni, ma con una continuità di fondo che, come già detto, viene da lontano. Del resto basta andare a riascoltare Molecular, Code of Being, MSM Molecular Systematic Music Live e Transfiguration, ed è facile ritrovare quel suono amico e confidenziale che fa di Brandon Lewis e del suo quartetto una delle formazioni più raffinate del jazz contemporaneo (e certamente una di quelle che incontrano il mio favore). Non si pensi però che questa continuità, si possa confondere con il concetto di monotonia (nel senso letterale del termine, beninteso). No, i toni non sono sempre uguali e nemmeno i ritmi che, per esempio, in Abstraction is Deliverance, subiscono una impetuosa impennata, mentre il seguente Multicellular Beings è un brano pacato e meditativo, dove l’avvolgente contrabbasso di Brandon Lewis dialoga in maniera serrata col piano di Aruán Ortiz, ma soprattutto con il rullante titillato dalle spazzole di Chad Taylor. Più libero (free?) e aleatorio è certamente Mr Crick e sulla stessa linea anche Left Alone. Ma questo splendido lavoro del quartetto di James Brandon Lewis, paradossalmente, non è fatto solo di musica, ad accompagnare il cd (o la sua versione digitale) c’è anche un testo di Teju Cole, scrittore afro americano che qualche anno fa ebbe una certa celebrità in Italia grazie a Città aperta, edito da Einaudi. La scrittura di Cole, che è anche fotografo e storico dell’arte, è visionaria e deve indubbiamente molto ad alcuni testi della Beat Generation, ma ha comunque una sua propria originalità e mi piace immaginare che Polaris, ultimo brano del disco, possa essere la più adatta colonna sonora per lo strampalato viaggio dei due protagonisti del racconto di Teju Cole, in compagnia di un CD che erutta suoni primordiali, muovendosi tra canyon urbani, montagne, boschi, deserti e spazi immaginari o siderali.

Disco bello e originale, con sorpresa letteraria raffinata che sembra volerci indicare quella direzione pluridisciplinare che, non solo nel jazz, sembra profilarsi sempre più chiaramente, dopo tanti sconfinamenti di stili e ibridazioni di varia natura.

https://offtopicmagazine.net/2025/07/02/james-brandon-lewis-quartet-abstraction-is-deliverance/

Ein Saxophon-Koloss

Mit gleich mehreren neuen Veröffentlichungen beweist James Brandon Lewis, warum er bereits jetzt zu den ganz Großen des Jazz gezählt werden darf.

Ornette Coleman entwickelte ein schier unverständliches musiktheoretisches System mit Namen „Harmolodics", das eine Art Befreiung von den akkordischen Einschränkungen des Jazz beschreiben und weit über das modale Spiel eines Miles Davis hinausgehen sollte. Henry Threadgill entwarf eine „intervallic language", eine serielle Sprache, in der sich von Takt zu Takt Intervallreihen verändern und verschieben. Anthony Braxton veröffentlichte ein dreibändiges musik-philosophisches Werk mit dem Titel „Tri-Axium Writings"; seine Kompositionen sind oft in grafischen Modellen notiert, die eher mathematischen Gleichungen und Diagrammen ähneln. Es scheint bei den avantgardistischen Vertretern des Jazz insbesondere bei Saxophonisten einen Hang zum theoretischen Überbau zu geben. Beim vermutlich versiertesten und interessantesten Saxophonisten und Komponisten seiner Generation, James Brandon Lewis, darf das ebenfalls konzediert werden: „Molecular Systematic Music" nennt er sein Modell. Die dahinterstehende Idee sei es, so erklärte er mal, wissenschaftliche Theorien als Methode zur Konstruktion von Musik zu verwenden. Improvisationen werden da in komplexe Systeme wie eine Doppelhelix übersetzt (und umgekehrt), es geht um Intervalle als Informationsstränge und um die vier grundlegenden harmonischen Umgebungen, die Adenin, Guanin, Cytosin und Thymin entsprächen, den Basen eines DNA-Moleküls.

Das Tolle an diesen Versuchen, dem genialischen Moment des Spiels eine wissenschaftliche Beschreibungsebene unterzujubeln: Sie mögen den kreativen Prozess erklären oder sogar vorantreiben, beim Hören von Lewis' Alben verwandelt sich der akademische Ballast aber sofort in schwerelose Schönheit, die mehr als an Coleman, Threadgill oder Braxton an die spirituelle Energie John Coltranes, Pharoah Sanders' oder Albert Aylers denken lässt und an die Power eines Sonny Rollins, von dem Lewis auch einen Sinn für affizierende Melodielinien geerbt zu haben scheint. Mit all diesen Namen tut sich nicht nur eine Ahnenreihe auf. Sondern mit ihnen ist auch ein Anspruch verbunden, den der 1983 in Buffalo, New York, geborene James Brandon Lewis mehr und mehr einlöst. Sein Ton, rau und kräftig, zuweilen von der rauchigen Wärme Coleman Hawkins' und des späten Bluesman Archie Shepp durchdrungen, sucht seinesgleichen. Und seine vielseitige Produktivität ebenfalls: Allein in den letzten Monaten sind vier Alben erschienen, die den Traditionshorizont und die Zeitgenossenschaft von Lewis aufzeigen können.

Mit seinem wunderbar eingespielten Quartett Aruán Ortiz am Piano, Brad Jones am Bass und Chad Taylor am Schlagzeug - hat er gerade beim Schweizer Avantgarde-Label Intakt ein raumöffnendes, soghaftes Album veröffentlicht: „Abstraction Is Deliverance" erscheint, im Vergleich zu Vorgängeraufnahmen, geradezu balladesk angelegt, das Hymnische von Lewis' Spiel ist absolut präsent, aber verhaltener und auf subtilere Weise expressiv. Das erste Stück „Ware" ist dem Free-Jazz-Saxophonisten David S. Ware aus dem Umfeld Cecil Taylors gewidmet, den man als Bindeglied zwischen Ayler und Lewis betrachten könnte.

James Brandon Lewis mag es, mit seinen Alben Geschichten zu erzählen, immer neue, in unterschiedlichen Klangfarben, Grooves, Tonalitäten. Früher in diesem Jahr ist die von Hip-Hop-Rhythmen und Funk bestimmte Platte „Apple Cores" herausgekommen, wieder mit dem langjährigen Wegbegleiter und umtriebigen Schlagzeuger Chad Taylor und mit Josh Werner an E-Bass und Gitarre. Es ist eine pulsierende Improvisation, eine wilde Jamsession, die sich zum einen auf Schriften des afroamerikanischen Poeten und Aktivisten Amiri Baraka bezieht und zum anderen im Dialog mit Don Cherrys Werk steht und dessen „musikalische Neugier kommentiert" (Lewis).

Diese musikalische Neugier muss man auch dem neuen Saxophone Colossus attestieren: Nicht lange her, da hat Lewis mit der aus der Hardcore-Szene heraus entstandenen Band The Messthetics bei Impulse! ein Album eingespielt. Die Gruppe besteht aus Joe Lally am Bass und Brendan Canty an den Drums, ehemaligen Mitgliedern der Punk-Band Fugazi, sowie dem Gitarristen Anthony Pirog. Deren energiegeladener Instrumental-Rock ist so direkt und roh, dass er so manches Fusion-Projekt der Vergangenheit wie laue Fahrstuhlmucke erscheinen lässt. Er möge eben Tenor-Sounds, die ein bisschen Fleisch haben, sagte Lewis mal.

Aber es geht noch mal ganz anders: Bei Manfred Eicher hat er vor Kurzem sein ECM-Debüt vorgelegt, im Quartett mit Giovanni Guidi (Piano), Thomas Morgan (Bass) und João Lobo (Schlagzeug). Auf „A New Day" ist eine kammermusikalische Zurückgenommenheit zu entdecken, eine ausdifferenzierte Form von Spiritualität, die wenig mit der Intensität eines Albert Ayler zu tun hat, mehr mit der nordischnüchternen Eso-terik klassischer ECM-Aufnahmen.

Apropos Ayler – mit dem teilt Lewis d...