Review: Andrei Matorin - Opus

Andrei Matorin - Opus
2009, Armored Records

Andrei Matorin appears to have been born (or at least raised) to be a jazz musician. Studying in such vaunted institutions as the Boston Center for the Arts, the Conservatoire de Geneve and the Berklee College Of Music, its likely Matorin has never experienced the starving artist phenomenon first hand, but his passion for jazz shines through every note and run on his debut album, Opus. The Brazilian-born Matorin was exposed to jazz at a young age by bassist and friend Josef Deas, who introduced Matorin to John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Oscar Peterson, Herbie Hancock and Ray Brown, among others. Matorin has never slowed down since, completing a dual program at Berklee in jazz composition and jazz performance as well as continuing to study and perfect his classical technique.

Opus opens with “Smile”, a friendly discussion between violin, piano, bass and percussion that grows into a near duet between the violin and piano; similar to two Broadway divas taking over the stage from lesser players in a finale. Offered in a wide-open arrangement with tremendous highs and lows; these peaks and valleys are measured more in intensity than volume. “Smile” is highly lyric in both the violin and piano, with Dan Pugach’s polyrhythmic drum part punctuating their conversation like a color commentator while Luques Curtis glues together with a vital-yet-unassuming bass line. “Then And Now” finds Matorin’s violin taking on a slightly darker tone. Melodically reminiscent of some of Sting’s more esoteric forays into Jazz (or at least his band’s), there is a great deal of conflict and loss woven between the lines of the song; a current than runs deep beneath the surface but touches every note even if you never quite see it.

“Coming Home” is full of reverie; joyous moments are recalled in a musical line where echoes of times past weep from Matorin’s bow like a melancholy catharsis. Brighter thoughts ensue and interweave as the listener is turned to and fro by the juxtaposition of past and present in the song. Matorin and his band introduce a slinky, sneaky feel on “Silver Blue”, sounding like a score element from an old mystery film. This is great music for skulking by a pulp-fiction private eye; not dark or ominous but almost with a comic air at times. “Trancoso” is a vibrant dance with Matorin’s violin as the main voice, but Takeshi Ohbayashi steals the show in a supporting role on piano. Chaotic subtexts feed into a classic parlor jazz feel throughout the song. Matorin underscores the chaos in the final moments of "Trancoso" before ascending to sublime ending that marks release.

“One Last Song” is a wonderful change of pace; a daydream in song that inspires images of summer days with lots of sunlight and high fluffy clouds where you can simply drift and let your mind wander where it will. Matorin is the prime mover here, waxing and waning like the breeze, but always present. The only offering on Opus that seems out of place is “Hymn No. 1”. Little about the song would suggest the contemplative or reverent nature of a hymn, and the composition fails any sort of coherency test. The focus here is on numbers: speed and how many notes Matorin can fit into a measure or line. Compared to everything else on Opus, “Hymn No. 1” sounds messy and incoherent. Matorin rights the ship however with the moody violin/bass duet “Sunday Blues”. “Sunday Blues” sounds like pure creation; it wouldn’t be at all surprising to learn that this recording was a one-off live improve between Matorin and Curtis. Curtis’ bass solo in the middle is pure chaos; something of a “huh?” moment but resolves back into the structure of the duet to close out.

Andrei Matorin is well-schooled in the art of Jazz, and his schooling shows throughout Opus, but there’s a quality that shines through here that simply cannot be taught. Matorin has a love of the music he plays that’s unparalleled, and displays flashes of genius born of love and intensity with the violin in his hand. Opus is highly creative, sticking primarily to a classic sense of jazz improvisation, digressing only when Matorin deems appropriate. Opus is an album that fans of modern jazz will be happy with, and even the stodgiest of jazz purists will gladly offer a space in their collection to.

Rating: 4 Stars (Out of 5)

Learn more about Andrei Matorin at http://www.andreimatorin.com/ or www.myspace.com/amatorin. You can purchase Opus as a CD or Download from Amazon.com.

Review: Dan Freedman - Art Attack

Dan Freedman - Art Attack
2008, Four Hearts Music

Prodigal Sons always return home. So it is with Dan Freedman, who returns to his roots as a jazz pianist after 20 years as a software entrepreneur. Showing how close a musician always stays to their music, it took nothing more than an early 2008 concert performance by Hiromi Uehara to throw Freedman a musical headwind that would turn his life once more to music. Born in London, England, Freedman has a weekly slot on BBC Brighton as "Dan The Piano Man" at eleven years of age. After moving to Canada with his family, Freedman majored in jazz piano performance on his way to completed both bachelors and masters degrees in computer science (hence the 20 year detour). Based now in Honolulu, HI, Freedman was so moved by the performance of Uehara that he began playing again the next day. By the end of 2008, he'd already recorded his debut album, Art Attack. Freedman has plans for two more albums in 2009, and I think it's safe to say that he's not looking back.

Freedman's press materials say his greatest influences are Oscar Peterson and Bill Evans. It's very evident on first listen to Art Attack that the jazz spirits of Peterson and Evans inform Freedman's musical consciousness. Freedman takes the impressionist style and runs with it on Art Attack. As with impressionist pianists this can be both a good and not so good thing at times. Freedman finds moment of musical glory embedded in the eight covers and two originals on Art Attack, but also finds moments where the impressions pile up too high upon one another and drown each other out. On balance, the passages and songs that work far outweigh what does not.

Art Attack opens with On Green Dolphin St., a classic played in trio form (piano, drums, bass). It's an egalitarian recording where no one instrument really is subservient to others, like a musical talk show where the instruments converse. There's an Bill Evans vibe that's evident in a relaxed reading of time signatures and the willingness to bend and shape melody lines into pretzels before returning them as they were, unharmed. Freedman pays tribute to Evans on Very Early, re-imagining the Chick Corea/Hiromi Uehara version in a style almost reminiscent of Vince Guaraldi.

Sweet Georgia Brown left me a little bit lost. The Maceo Pinkard classic is performed here as a piano duet, and ultimately that is just too much. The impressionist approach combined with a second piano in duet creates a bit of musical mayhem that was just too much for this listener. Chopsticks is a jaunty series of riffs on classic piano exercise that transforms into, among other things, Rhapsody In Blue along the way. This sounds like it was a lot of fun to play; the sort of divine inspiration that comes when a musician lets themselves have fun with the music.

The absolute highlight of the disc is Freedman's interpretation of Oscar Peterson's Wheatland for bass and piano. Freedman takes us through the gentle ebb and flow of Peterson's creation with a contrapuntal left hand and a minimalist bass line. Wheatland gets to breathe its own metaphysical melody in an inspired performance. Freedman gives an interesting turn next on The Beatles' Michelle, taking the Lennon/McCarthy classic off the pins of rock music and re-inventing it as classical/jazz hybrid. Freedman focuses on dynamic development throughout the song in moving from an almost Chopin presentation to Van Clyburn before falling back to the melodic heart of the song trailing the acoustic waters from whence it originally arose.

Laughing Child is a Dan Freedman original, and in some ways just doesn't belong on this album. Laughing Child is a pop song at heart with a vocal line that cries out of the piano for a singer and words. Laughing Child could migrate to either Adult Contemporary Pop or Broadway without much difficulty, and serves as a hint regarding the diversity and breadth of writing/performing talent that Freedman possesses. Art Attack closes with the surreal and rhythmic Marimba piece Lives At Stake. Lives At Stake sounds like something that might have shown up in session tapes for an early Pink Floyd album.

Dan Freedman comes home to music after twenty years in the corporate professional realm with an inspired debut album in Art Attack. While there are moments that don't work as well as other, the effort on the whole is very much worth your time. Mixing the influences of Oscar Peterson, Bill Evans, Brad Mehldau and others with unique and daring choices about structure, timing and harmony, Freedman takes chances that mostly work while giving us a hint of how broad a swath he might cut musically. With two more albums planned for 2009, this could just be the warm-up. A definite must for impressionist jazz fans, jazz piano fans, jazz-inflected pop fans, or people who enjoy an artist who can take you anywhere at any moment for any reason.

Rating: 4 Stars (Out of 5)

You can learn more about Dan Freedman or purchase a copy of Art Attack at http://www.dan88.com/. You can also pick up a copy at www.cdbaby.com/cd/danfreedman.