For this latest album from prolific pianist Espen Berg (he is amongst other things a member of A Tonic For The Troops, whose latest disc has not long been released), he has gathered together an ensemble of fellow Norwegian musicians with backgrounds in a wide variety of musical styles that gives this release an extraordinary breadth of vision.
Originally commissioned for Trondheim’s Jazzfest of 2020, the various pieces here are essentially chamber music, but with a kind of vivid imagination that has no real boundaries. The gathered string trio with piano, trumpet / flugelhorn and drums is able to great justice to the seven pieces here, embracing melancholy and mania in equal measure, but ever-evolving.
The piano that moves throughout the album is often melancholy and repetitive, leaving the violin to tug at the heartstrings, dreaming of another life. The trumpet sounds dazed, as if recovering from a shock and is readjusting; but as the rest of the players step in, they try to work around the malaise and inject something refreshing. The pieces tend to hang around the central piano motifs, which give them a momentum that is hard to resist and over which the other players move, changing the direction, tickling the tempo and edging form playful to thoughtful in the blink of an eye.There is an air of solitude to much of what is captured here, enlivened by smoky horn that gives a dreamlike ambience, taking the listener into the distance where mists of sound are propelled by the lightest of drum patterns. Suddenly a Bond theme sweeps around the corner and the group is swept up, tempting us one way and directing us another, the classical feel with solo cello deep and resonant leading us further into shadow. The tragic strings are inescapable and for a short time you have the feeling that all is lost.
The piano lines are almost obsessive in their initial structure and the gypsy violin and flickering percussion, with the assistance of firefly strings, attempt to divert us from that circling motif, adding counterpoints then drifting the piece into waltz time, the circus momentum temporarily lessening the tension. Espen has done well selecting this ensemble; they all know what is best for each piece and how best to evolve it. They favour propulsive melancholy with sinuous strings and tear-stained horn to press the feelings home, a distant swell of percussion ever-present, each detail flickering in its own light, intensely moving, but often any sense of introspection is pushed aside with a sudden flush of warmth. Towards the end, an Eastern gypsy twirls from nowhere, strings playing off one another but set against a stern, progressive tempo, slightly threatening with a low roll of thunderous piano stressing the point. It steals the show, stuttering and clamouring, awkward yet compulsive and leads the group into the finale, a twenty-minute piece filled with mood changes, lightening the pressure yet still keeping the sense of intrigue alive.They move through these different modes producing a fresh journey for each track on Water Fabric and by the time the hour is up, you have experienced the most fulfilling musical induction. Whether this sextet is a one-off or has more to come, this album is essential for anybody.
-Mr Olivetti-
