RUST: A Homage to the Crescent City by Pianist/Composer Amaury Faye and his NOLA Quartet

 

Amaury Faye and his NOLA Quartet-RUST

The French pianist Amaury Faye is new to me. His latest music, the album released November 15, 2025 RUST, is a robust revelation. I have to thank the persistence and good taste of his publicist Matt Merewitz, for turning me onto this one. When I saw drum master Herlin Riley on the credits, that was one more positive indication to me that Faye's music might offer some welcome surprises and I was not disappointed. 

This thirty-five year old pianist comes out of Paris. Faye has a long list of achievements in the European musical world. He has been a member of the Vogue Trio where he lent his pianistic skills to the group led by Belgian double bassist Giuseppe Millaci from 2016 through 2023. The group is known for modern jazz that incorporates a European elegance and rhythmic variation. Faye has also played with the well-respected twelve-member French collective Iniative H led by saxophonist David Haudrechy.

Faye's history as a potent sideman has not stopped the pianist from finding his own voice as a pianist/leader. In  2010, he released My Big Toe with Louis Navarro on bass and Pierre Ardré,  which was a live recording based on music inspired by pianists Kenny Barron, Oscar Peterson and Hank Jones. In 2016, Faye came to the US to study at Berklee, in Boston, with Joanne Brackeen, and in March 2015, he was awarded Berklee's Jazz Performance Award for best jazz pianist of that year. In 2019, Faye released his first solo album Buran, a grand and introspective eight-piece suite that was inspired by his parent's work in the space industry. Bursan means snowstorm in Russian. It is inspired by Faye's respect for Russian music, culture and the beauty of Siberia's vast expanse and incorporates elements that combine classical, cinema, pop and jazz music.

(left to right clock wise) Amaury Faye, Herlin Riley, Julian Lee and Amina Scott  

With so many diverse influences, Amaury is never one whose musical offerings can be pigeonholed into a particular genre. On his latest release RUST,  Faye is joined by a dynamic group of musicians who add to the possibilities in the pianist's color palette. Besides Faye's facile piano work , he creates catchy, cinematic compositions which lend to creative, lively improvisation by his bandmates. Bassist Amina Scott offers plucky, booming lines that swell the beat organically and with vitality. Tenor saxophonist Julian Lee plays with a searing confidence. A fiery player whose  sax elevates this music. Trap master Herlin Riley adds  that secret sauce factor to the album. The soul and Afro-Caribbean rhythm variations that breathe New Orleans life into this offering.

The opener, "Sirens of the Crescent City," finds Lee's saxophone recreating the urgency of a siren-like plea over Faye's ostinato piano lines. Besides the images created by the music, there is a jagged line here that is punctuated by Scott's booming bass and Riley's simmering drum and cymbal work. Lee's saxophone builds the urgency like an overflowing pot of boiling water. The music aurally captures the frenetic energy of an unexpected emergency mode that a visitor to any big city might experience.

"Walkin' Down the Levee" captures a funky, sauntering musical strut down to New Orleans famous Levee. The Levee, over one hundred feet long and at times finding embankments of over sixteen feet in height, offer New Orleans a lifeline. It allows this unique city to exist below sea level. But the Levee is also a liability. The dual personality of the structure showed its dangerous side when in 2005 Hurricane Katrina ran havoc, overflowing the levees and yielding massive destruction. That being said, Faye's take on walking down at the Levee is more of a soulful, funky ode to the vitality and spirit that he has experienced there. Faye sets the tone with a slinky, captivating shuffle that opens with a syncopated drum entre by Riley and  features Lee's husky tenor stating the repeating lines of the melody, supported by Scott's pulsing bass and Faye's supportive descending piano lines. Lee's tenor work builds tension and excitement with an aplomb that  remind me a bit of Michael Brecker. Faye's piano solo is inventive with a graceful elegance that carries you along. You find yourself rocking your head back and forth to the infectious beat he, along with Scott and Riley, create. If you're like me, this one is on your repeat play list for a while.

"The Railyard," part of Faye's cinematic-like portrait of New Orleans, finds the pianist using the propulsive rhythm of the team of Scott and Riley to create an aural image of constant motion. The team play brilliantly, all four locked into a repeating syncopated synchrony. The music offers solos- first by Faye whose playing hovers in a soup of sounds that have elements of pop, classical and jazz, similarly to the way Brad Mehldau amalgamates and blurs these styles. Lee's tenor follows with his own clarion bursts and the song ends with Riley's roiling drum work finishing with authority to the coda.

"Huckabuck Garden" opens with Faye, Scott and Riley having a rollicking conversation. This has a low down, Honky-tonk, NOLA feel to it. The title refers to a sweet, fruit or sugar flavored homemade frozen desert -a huckabuck-popular in New Orleans and parts of the Louisiana and Georgia. 

The album continues with a ragtime inspired tune "Public Belt Rag." As the pianist Jelly Roll Morton was one of the first to incorporate ragtime time with improvisation, this one could easily be a homage to this inventive style. Faye once again proves just how diverse his musical education and abilities are. Pure fun.

The boogie-woogie blues is on display on "The Barges Blues." Faye's piano work  follows in the steps of early innovators of this style like James Booker, Meade Lux Lewis and Albert Ammons. Faye's pianistic style here, like mush of what he does, always has a certain elegance to it. The quartet all have fun with this one and it has a spirit that puts a smile on your face.

The title cut "Rust" opens with an repeating rhythmic phrase that creates a signature, a theme to the song. Faye's piano lines set the scene, Scott and Riley add the rhythmic counterpoint and Lee's saxophone play a serpentine line over the riff. Rust is a pervading, often a never-ceasing deterioration that is usually associated with aging metal. For old cities like New Orleans, infrastructure like bridges and railroad tracks have their share of rusting. As the cover photo of the album reveals, Faye seems to have witnessed this ongoing fight to keep valuable structures from rusting away and ultimately failing. As an artist, Faye's music is raising awareness of these issues, as well as celebrating the area's celebratory musical feel and I applaud that effort. 

"The Old Empress in the Gloaming" is a very telling title to this haunting ballad. Faye has a poetic flair here. While its hard to know his intention, the title refers to the fading grandeur of an old royal lady. "In the gloaming" refers to in the twilight or in the dusk. The music evokes mystery, a little melancholy and reflection. The music seems to have been based on Faye's experience in New Orleans. One might project that this song is the pianist finding the Crescent City, presumably the old empress, to have been through a lot (like Katrina), with its rusting infrastructure, and its once grandeur is rapidly in decline. Listen for yourself and see if that reading feels true to you.

The closing composition, "Sweet, Chaotic And Vibrant"  is a moving, classically  inspired solo piano ode, probably  to the Crescent City. Faye ends with this emotive piece and he impresses with his astute observations of what his experience has meant to him. If ever an artist revealed his love of a place, with all its warts, Amaury Faye's RUST  is a fitting and deep felt homage to New Orleans.

  

Saxophonist Dayna Stephens: Knowing the Meaning of "Gratitude"

Gratitude is a state of mind. A sense of seeing all the benefits that life has bestowed on one and demonstrating a true appreciation for having received them. Sometimes gratitude takes the form of a prayer of thanks to one’s creator. Sometimes it is a simple expression of showing those around you that you care and have not taken their kindness or love for granted. Sometimes it is a simple moment of acknowledgment that briefly crosses past one’s consciousness amongst all the daily clutter. For saxophonist/composer Dayna Stephens Gratitude is a musical expression of joy, appreciation and a celebration of life.

The thirty-nine-year-old Brooklyn born saxophonist grew up in the San Francisco Bay area before attending school at the prestigious Berklee College of Music in Boston on scholarship. He has studied with piano legend Kenny Baron, pianist Ed Kelley, trumpeter Terrence Blanchard and the iconic Wayne Shorter among others and was on his way to establishing himself as one of the top young voices of a new generation of saxophonists when he was diagnosed with Focal Segmental Glomerulosclerosis, a rare kidney disease, in 2009. After struggling with the limitations of the disease, awaiting a suitable transplant that somehow often seemed just out of, and with the challenge of finding the funds necessary to get the expensive anti-rejection drug treatment needed for the transplant, Stephens finally received a transplant from his Aunt Lauren Bullock in October of 2015. All during the process Stephens maintained his music as his own personal lifeline. Meanwhile the musical community, both friends and fans, rallied for him, planning benefit concerts, outreaching to the public for donations to help the young musician defray some of the costs of his operation and treatments.Stephens sees this new lease on life as a gift that he cannot take for granted and thus this heartfelt album Gratitude is his musical expression to all those that helped, encouraged and stood by him in his time of need.

The music is a splendid offering by a deeply talented musician. His sound is warm and liquid, and conveys great emotional depth with an earnest but joyful intensity.  The band features a stellar cast of today’s most sort after musicians; Brad Mehldau on piano, Julian Lage on guitar, Larry Grenadier on bass and Eric Harland on drums. 

Stephens’ musical selections are marvelously diverse and uber contemporary. He has skillfully distilled the music of such diverse artists as the French composer/violinist Olivier Manchon, the poetic stylings of Rebbeca Martin, the electronica-jazz driven music of Michelle Amador, the Americana tinged work of guitarist Julian Lage, the durable music of guitar legend Pat Metheny and the perennially masterwork of Billy Strayhorn, into a modern interpretation of what this music means to him.

Starting with the beautifully rendered “Emilie,” we get a taste of Stephens deeply personal approach to sound. His tone is honey-throated, an authentic extension of his voice. Pianist Mehldau, exploratory as ever, responds to this sensitive piece with a probing solo that traverses the outskirts of the melody without ever losing its bearings. Grenadier and Harland offer turbulent, but somehow totally in sync backup, that redefines what it means to be provide rhythmic support. 

On the pianist Aaron Parks moving “In a Garden” Stephens sincerely states the melody and then bassist Grenadier takes an ambitious, plucky solo as Lage’s filigreed guitar work provides a delicate backdrop.

On Michelle Amador’s “Amber is Falling” Stephens is again the lead voice. The band swirls around him in a mist of sounds in the intro, until the song takes on a more forceful launch with Stephens again leading the way with his fluid tenor that brims with clarity and purposeful direction. The superb rhythm section builds the song into a flurry of tension that allows Stephens to soar above the roil. Mehldau spins his pianistic magic on a solo of inspired imagination, spurred along in part by the limitless percussive wellspring of ideas that Harland’s drum kit provides. Stephens ends the piece holding a contemplative note to silence.

On guitarist Julian Lage’s cinematic “Woodside Waltz” we are transported back to a time of wagon wheels and five-cent a beer saloon’s with a honk-tonk piano tucked off to the side of the bar. Mehldau employ the “tack” piano to produce the nostalgic sound. Stephens’ offers a plaintive sound on his tenor which is contrasted nicely by Lage’s nimble, Western-tinged guitar solo.  

On Pat Metheny’s ruminative composition “We Had a Sister,” Stephens uses his EWI/synthesizer to create an otherworldly sound. The electronics are nicely counterpointed against Mehldau’s, by comparison, stark acoustic piano sound. The composer originally played this song acoustically with his trio, but Metheny’s own subsequent electronic explorations could easily be the source of inspiration for Stephens version of this quiet gem.

Stephens’ sole composition on this album is “Timbre of Gratitude.” The song features Stephens’ and Lage playing synchronous lines. On his solo, Lage traverses the fretboard with a gossamer touch that flows like droplets of water running down the silken strands of a spider’s web.

Billy Strayhorn’s exotic “Isfahan” finds Stephens on the big baritone saxophone. His tone is rich with a lustrous vibrato that burrows its way into your chest cavity.  The interplay between him and Lage’s masterful guitarwork is especially noteworthy.

On Rebecca Martin’s beguiling “Don’t Mean a Thing at All,” Stephens’ tenor is warm and inviting and resonates into your soul. The marvelous melody is accentuated with a subtle synthesizer accompaniment by Stephens as Lage darts around the melody with his deft guitar accents.

The closing song is a medley of two songs titled “Clouds.” The first by Massimo Biocati is a synthesized series of vamps with Stephens’ sole tenor voice singing against a trap drum background. The second is by Louis Cole and has a more magisterial, orchestral sound, again with Stephens tenor and synthesizer. Both offer an interesting look at mixing electronics with acoustic instruments to create intriguing aural landscapes.

With Gratitude Stephens has returned from his brush with illness in renewed and inspired form. He has created a  distinctive suite of music, with intriguing contemporary melodies, that should satisfy even the most demanding of listeners.

Warren Wolf's "Convergence" : Converging on Excellence

Warren Wolf

The title of vibraphonist/multi-instrumentalist Warren Wolf is “Convergence,” a coordinated coming together of forces toward a single goal. In this case the forces are the formidable musicians that have come to take part in Wolf’s vision of music.  The core band is made up of Wolf on vibes, marimba and piano on one cut; Christian McBride on bass; Jeff “Tain” Watts on drums and pianist Brad Mehldau along with two songs that feature John Scofield’s soulful guitar work. Co-producer McBride wanted to bring the young lion of vibraphone into the spotlight and test his mettle by pairing him with this group of no nonsense talent. Wolf more than rose to the occasion, with the result a recording that combines grit, funk, swing, soul and outright beauty into one of the most satisfying albums of the year.

Warren Wolf's Convergence MAC 1105

The fun begins right from the opening bars of Wolf’s funky cha-cha shuffle “Soul Sister,” the perfect vehicle for Scofield’s twisted electric blues guitar as McBride and Watts drive the groove. Wolf’s melodic vibes have a sensuous smoothness to them, that cover you like silky lotion. 

On his “Four Stars from Heaven” the interplay with Mehldau is particularly insightful. The pianists signature angular sound darts perfectly with the intuitive rhythm section of McBride and Watts. Mehldau is a master of building tension in his solo. Wolf feeds off the inspiration and juxtaposes his own solo with a marvelously relaxed approach, building tension in a series of cascading arpeggios that get increasingly faster.  He brings the band back together for another Mehldau solo that rollicks as Watts creates a tumult of sounds on his toms, snare and cymbals before the band fades into the dreamy sounds of Wolf’s vibes at the coda.

Wolf reduces the band to a duo for” King of Two Fives” where he a McBride play off each other in a delightfully swinging conversation. McBride is a master of his instrument and hearing him play with such seemingly effortless facility is a pure joy. Wolf’s unobtrusive vibes are the perfect accompaniment during the bassist’s forays, lending beautiful sustained harmonies to the music.

Dave Samuel’s “New Beginning” utilizes another duo, this time Wolf and Mehldau. The beautiful sensitivity both players reveal recalls Bill Evan’s “Blue in Green” in part. Mehldau’s solo is Evanesque in his approach enhancing the connection to the old standard. These two have a great chemistry and the conversational quality and utter beauty of their musical dialogue is quite moving, reminiscent of the work of Corea and Burton did on their famed “Crystal Silence.”

The pulsing “Cell Phone” features the quartet again, with McBride’s relentless bass line and Watts polyrhythmic drum work surging the piece forward. Wolf’s blurred vibe tones and Mehldau’s staccato piano jabs all make for a frenetic frenzy of a piece, emblematic of Wolf’s aversion to cell phones that ring constantly.

“Montana” is a Bobby Hutcherson composition that is the epitome of a “chill” tune. Wolf employs the trio on this one, a subtle bass line and traps. The vibraphonist creates the dreamy landscape by overdubbing his own vibe accompaniment to his single note solo work on Marimba over the top with the effect being quite enchanting. Lay back on your lounge chair and enjoy this one with a tall one and you sure to relax.

The full ensemble is back for “Havoc,” a fusion tune written by Wolf but inspired by guitarist’s Scofield’s “Trim.” The group hard charges as Wolf and Scofield trade licks in a test of spontaneous creativity. The ensemble is tight as they whirl through some complex, serpentine passages at both the beginning and the end. Like oil and vinegar go together, Scofield’s guitar ekes out his nasty pungent sound and Wolf replies with his own tasty viscous flow of notes.

One of my favorite song’s of the early seventies was bassist Gene Perla’s “Transgiversation” that I first heard on Elvin Jones’ classic Merry Go Round from 1971. The title according to that album’s liner notes means “…something like the act of changing one’s mind continually, of being a renegade.” On it two monster Fender Rhodes players Chick Corea and Jan Hammer played opposite each other trading licks to this wonderful fast paced melody as Perla’s bass held the beat and Elvin played exquisite brushes. Here Wolf, McBride and Watts play this swinger to perfection. Wolf’s vibes mimic the Rhodes sound perfectly. McBride takes an auspicious solo that wasn’t present in the Jones/ Perla original, but is fabulously swinging and Watts keeps the pace pushing in true Jones-style. Wolf doesn’t have another lead foil to do battle with, but no matter, his endless creativity is amply up to the task of making this an awe inspiring rendition that put a smile on my face. See for yourself.

Stevie Wonder’s “Knocks Me Off My Feet” is a slow sensual ballad that features Wolf as the multi-instrumentalist. This time he overdubs a piano accompaniment and his marimba solo work on top of his vibes as McBride and Watts provide subtle rhythmic support.

The spiritually sound of Wolf’s warm marimba kicks off his “A Prayer For the Christian Man” with its deliberate back and forth sway accentuated by McBride’s plucky bass. The dirge-like song takes its inspiration from John Coltrane’s “Alabama” and Wolf’s deeply moving mallet work is as reflective as you’ll find. The Coltrane inspiration is carried on by a stirring Elvin Jones-like poly-rhythmic burst at the end by the formidable Jeff “Tain” Watts.

The finale is all solo Wolf, playing the delicate hollow sounding Marimba, first on sensitive rendition of Hoagy Carmichael’s “Stardust” joined in medley with a utterly fantastically whimsical version of the classical piece, Chopin’s Minute Waltz.

Warren Wolf’s music on this album ranges from the burning to the sublime and does it all with an easy aplomb. The excellence of Convergence marks Wolf as a major player on the contemporary music scene whose time has come.

Costumes Are Mandatory : Ethan Iverson with Lee Konitz, Larry Grenadier and Jorge Rossy

Ethan Iverson's Costumes Are Mandatory HCD 7249

With a shriveled and charred pumpkin face on the cover (photo by Julie Worden) one might find the cover art of Costumes Are Mandatory  holds a subliminal message. A worn out and used up octogenarian going through the paces of just another record gig. Ha! Dispel all such notions. This record  finds the eighty-five year old alto-saxophonist Lee Konitz playing in top form with his signature dry-ice tone and his measured economy of notes that somehow speaks volumes. The taciturn Mr. Konitz speaks with his horn only when necessary and when he does one should be inclined to sit up and listen or risk missing fleeting brilliance. Here, the hearty Konitz,  is joined by a stellar cast assembled by Ethan Iverson, of Bad Plus fame on piano.  Larry Grenadier on bass and Jorge Rossy on drums, the formidable original rhythm section of Brad Mehldau's trio, round out the bill.

The record was the brainchild of Mr. Iverson and includes two Konitz originals, some standards and some of Mr. Iverson's original compositions.The album is book ended by two versions of Mr. Iverson's "Blueberry Ice Cream."  Mr. Grenadier anchors this twelve bar blues with his full walking bass line over which, according to Mr. Iverson's liner notes, a reluctant Mr. Konitz plays his abstract, sparse blue lines to great effect and total enjoyment. On Mr. Konitz's "It's You,"  Mr. Iverson overdubs piano in an introductory nod to Lennie Tristano, Mr. Konitz's mentor. By his own admission, Iverson plays the piece in a Monk-like fashion. Konitz plays with a mute floating above a walking bass line by Grenadier and rambunctious interactive drum work by Rossy, something Tristano, who hated active drummers, would have undoubtedly scorned. Iverson and Konitz trace each others lines in a nice piece of synchronous interactive playing.  On Konitz "317 East 32nd Street,"  the Tristano-style is most evident in Iverson's playing. Iverson claims Konitz begrudgingly plays this one, albeit gracefully. After so many repeat performances over the years perhaps he has found it difficult to say anything more?

The highlights of the album are the ballads, played with such minimalism as to be beautiful in their unabashed, almost stark nakedness. On "Try a Little Tenderness" Mr. Iverson's piano is probing, ruminative and abstract while still retaining some thread to the melody. Mr. Konitz again uses a mute on his horn creating a nostalgically shrouded sound. On Bob Haggart's "What's New," Iverson creates an angular lead-in for Konitz to enter the song with his own oblique approach to the melody. His brut champagne-like notes linger over the deliciously languid lines of this superb rhythm section, creating a marvel of concise, liquid inventiveness. The piece de resistance is the beautifully imagined duet of "Body and Soul" with Larry Grenadier's full-bodied bass playing the perfect foil to Lee Konitz's meandering alto. Grenadier's work is simply superb; a warm and round display of virtuosity and precision tone. Mr. Konitz's roaming sound is at it's most delicate, allowing room for Mr. Grenadier's work to shine through. The last ballad is "My Old Flame" which features the eighty-five year old Mr. Konitz on a vocal scat that is quite unnerving. Following Mr. Grenadier's bass lines, Mr. Iverson's twangy piano string plucking and Mr. Rossy's  consortium of  muffled drum effects, in comes Mr. Konitz "do do do we"  high pitched scat. Gratefully he picks up his horn and renders a heartfelt solo that dances around the melody in his own inimitable way. Mr. Iverson and Mr. Grenadier both play sincere, poignant solos before Mr Konitz comes in again for a brief reprise.

Mr. Iverson and the trio, sans Mr. Konitz, are featured in much of the remainder of the album. On the Vincent Rose song "Blueberry Hill" a song made famous by Fats Domino in 1956, Mr. Iverson shows his creative juices are flowing, successfully deconstructing the rock and roll standby into a vehicle of musical abstraction and I might say surprising beauty.  The Lennie Tristano/Paul Bley influence shines through on Mr. Iverson's  "A Distant Bell"  which is a note filled semi-free piece that couldn't be further from Mr. Konitz's style. "Bats" is Mr. Iverson's metronomic homage to the abstract pianist Lennie Tristano. The style is walking piano bass lines with  floating drum rhythms by Mr. Rossy that seem to take the lead. "Mr. Bumi" is a homage to Japanese pianist Masabumi Kikuchi which has Mr. Grenadier, who plays arco here, trading lines with Mr. Iverson in an counter-intuitive exchange. "My New Lovers All Seem So Tame"  finds Mr. Iverson plucking the strings of his piano in harpsichord-like manner; a strange song originally intended to be an intro to the following song "My Old Flame" which seems oddly out of place.

All in all  Costumes Are Mandatory is a wonderful body of music that more than makes up for some of its rough spots by offering moments of unvarnished beauty from a marvelously supple group of musicians and magical playing by Mr. Konitz, a living legend of his craft.

I could only find the short snippet above of Mr. Konitz with Mr, Iverson, Mr. Grenadier and Mr. Rossy, but here is a classic version of Lee doing "Body and Sou"l: from  Another Shade of Blue with pianist Brad Mehldau and bassist Charlie Haden from 1999.

Brad Mehldau and Mark Guiliana at the Falcon, Marlboro, NY: An Unexpected Evening of Free Improvisation

Photo by Ralph A. Miriello

About 75 miles due north of New York City in the Ulster County Hamlet of Marlboro, New York is the Falcon. Perched adjacent to a wonderful waterfall, this lovechild of transplanted Staten Islander Tony Falco, is a barn-like two story music and art performance space that also just happens to be a pretty fine restaurant. Despite the venue being a one and one half hour drive from New York City, it is Tony's hospitality and his vision of creating an inviting environment for the musicians that makes it work. It has become a safe house of sorts, a place where musicians are able to try new ideas outside the expectations of their mainstream audiences. It can also act as a convenient place for musicians to warm-up in preparation, on their way to gigs  in  New York City. There is no cover charge for the music, only a donation box where patrons are expected, but not required, to make a donation to the performers. The entire proceeds go to the musicians. It is the vibe of the place, the good sound system and the sentiment of the owner that has allowed the Falcon to attract some top name artists without a guaranteed gate.

Falcon Owner Tony Falco photo by Ralph A. Miriello

With the ominous threat of hurricane Irene lingering in everyone's mind, the originally scheduled August 27 th show of drummer  Eric Harland's group with guitarist Julian Lage and pianist Taylor Eigsti  was cancelled because the train service from New York city was suspended and the musicians were unable to make the trek. Rather than disappoint, the Falcon deftly shifted Sunday's performance of  the duo of pianist
Brad Mehldau, who lives in nearby Newburgh, NY and the drummer Mark Guiliana to Saturday night and suspended Sunday's performances in anticipation of the storm.

It was a rare chance to see the eclectic pianist and the frenetic drummer in an intimate setting. In speaking to Mr. Mehldau shortly before his set, I asked him what music he had planned for his upcoming set. He indicated that it was to be an evening of pure improvisation without any prearranged play list. The stage was set with an acoustic grand and a Hammond B3, but Mr. Mehldau was having none of that on this evening.  It was a purely electronic set with an electric piano, two keyboards and a laptop computer providing the instruments Mr. Mehldau would be employing. The only acoustic instrument on the stage was Mr.Guiliana's drums set.

The evenings entertainment started off with a slam poet from Galway, Ireland named  Stephen Murray. The comedian read aloud several of his humor drenched poems to the gathering crowd. He was well received especially when he requested Mr. Mehldau to accompany him on piano to the reading of one of his poems.

Mark Guiliana photo by Ralph A. Miriello

The music began with Mr. Mehldau sampling a droning electronic organ-like sound from his left hand on one of his keyboards creating an eerie space-like overlay. Mr. Guiliana waited in concentration as he appeared to be  channeling what to expect from Mr. Mehldau's explorations. Guiliana started out with a syncopated beat pattern that seems to perfectly flow with what Mr. Mehldau is playing. Mehldau in turn is inspired to create his own syncopated and funky left hand ostinato, while his right hand starts to play an almost otherworldly synthesized sound that is loaded with echo and reminds me of
Lonnie Liston Smith's dablings from back in the seventies.

Brad Mehldau Photo by Ralph A. Miriello

 The two musicians feed off each other with Mehldau setting the table and Guiliana adding the garnishments in a sympathetic interchange of ideas. Guiliana is an intense drummer whose every action seems to be charged with electricity. His energy level is so high that I found myself shaking my leg wildly trying to follow the syncopated beats he was producing. He is like a Van Der Graaf generator that you may have witnessed in physics lab, electrifying everything that is within its vicinity-making your hair stand on end. Mehldau, by contrast, is a player whose outer countenance is calm and mellow no matter how kinetic his playing may become. He gets enveloped by what he is playing and flows along with the music in a way that is very organic, meditative and expressive. The contrast between the two was stark but made for some interesting music.

The second number was started by Guiliana who played an odd, beat while a recording of what sounded like a political speech was played over an amplifier. Mehldau started off with a repeating line on electric piano while Guiliana maintained his multilayer-ed beat. The pianist expanded his right hand playing to include some dashing runs up and down the keyboard, that included some creative changes in the electronic sounds of his keyboard. Mehldau has a complete and masterful independent control of his two hands that allows him the ability to produce some wonderfully creative juxtaposed sounds.

Brad Mehldau and Mark Guiliana  photo by Ralph A. Miriello

 
On the third song Mr. Mehldau starts off adjusting his computer to preset designations of the electronic sounds he wishes to use. Mr. Guiliana creates a frenzied beat pattern that lays the carpet out for Mr. Mehldau's combination of eerie organ-like sounds, mixed with runs on the electric piano and even a hint of harpsichord thrown in for good measure. This could easily be the soundtrack to a horror film. There are swells and lulls in the intensity of the music that add greatly to the experience. The recorded speech is re-introduced into the piece as Mehldau and Guiliana change tempo and start slowly building a dynamic that is hypnotic in its sway. The two musicians build the e tension back up into a frenzied well spring of ideas that overflow with spontaneity.  Guiliana is especially intriguing to watch. The drummer seems to have internal battles within himself as his motion is both frantic and precisely controlled. Very intriguing stuff.

There were a total of six separate musical pieces punctuated by pauses and applause during the one hour and twenty-six minute set. The evening was an almost continuous experiment in free improvisation and interactivity.  Despite the appreciative audience, this was not, for the most part, music that one would necessarily put on their cd player. It is, however, music that needs to be experienced to be fully appreciated. My words do little to convey the true effect that experimental music like this has on one who witnesses it first hand. It is to be present for the conception of an idea, to by privy to the creative process of a musician during moments of true spontaneity. It is a rare and powerful experience. As creative artists Mr. Mehldau and Mr.Guiliana leave themselves naked to their audience, as nothing is apparently rehearsed. They are like trapeze artists who are working without a net, fraught with danger, but open to limitless possibilities. It is precisely why such venues like the Falcon need to be supported and encouraged, so they can provide the forums that allow for such wonderful trips into the unknown.

It is hard to say what may become of this evening's musical explorations between Mr. Mehldau and Mr. Guiliana, but suffice it say that we are all enriched by them tinkering with the possibilities.

After hurricane Irene hit the next day, the Falcon experienced a washout of their lower level parking area as the adjacent waterfall reached flood levels. Fortunately the performance space was unscathed but the damage to the retaining walls and parking area will need to be repaired. A trip to the Falcon is sure to be a wonderful experience and will help support the "live" music we all love.