MASABUMI KIKUCHI - Black Orpheus
ECM 473 2215
Masabumi Kikuchi: piano
Recorded October 26, 2012
“Black Orpheus” culled from a solo recital on October 26, 2012 in Tokyo, Japan was the late pianist Masabumi Kikuchi’s final concert. The recording is a powerful and emotionally stirring snapshot of his playing alternately dense yet conscious of space that marked the final portion of his career. The July 6th, 2015 passing of Kikuchi following complications after a stroke has left a huge void that continues to reverberate; he was one of the most individual improvisers in jazz.
“Sunrise”, a trio date with bassist Thomas Morgan, and the late drummer Paul Motian, was the only ECM recording the pianist made during his lifetime, a shining example of the complete freedom that lead to a style uniquely his own. The fascinating 2010 mini documentary “Out of Bounds” was an incredibly rich look into Kikuchi’s process as a musician, improviser as well as human being. He quite candidly remarked at one point that the music he made at that juncture in his career was the best he ever made because he was free of the constraints of the past and that he was not quite sure of the end goal in playing his own work, that any little progress he made was a tiny piece of the end result. “Black Orpheus” certainly supports that claim, and the assertion made at the end of the documentary that he was looking to create a perfect solo concert from start to finish. Kikuchi had not played in his native Tokyo for many years, instead the hustle and bustle of New York City served as his base since the 1970’s. His album “Poo-sun” (Philips, 1970) was a milestone and he made many excellent recordings with Gil Evans, an as yet unreleased 1978 session with Miles Davis, and the trio Tethered Moon featuring Gary Peacock on bass and Paul Motian. He had retired from public performances but kept recording at home, with the full blessing of ECM, and “Sunrise” presented the pianist with the opportunity to play a solo concert in Japan, made all the more poignant because it was his last. “Black Orpheus” is also a testament to the profound originality found on solo piano releases on ECM by the likes of Chick Corea, Paul Bley and Keith Jarrett, and it also strikes a balance between melodicism and atonal excursions that make Kikuchi’s late period so fascinating.
In the confines of one piece, the pianist goes between these extremes and also finds middle ground. Take for example the stream of consciousness probings of “Part I”, Part III” and “Part IV” where the common denominator is meditative carefully calculated melodic lines interspersed with whirlwinds of intense, frenetic tightly packed clusters of melody and harmony. The shift in ideas is as if the pianist is struggling with inner conflict or his own mortality. The joys and beauty of life next to contemplations of the natural world and ruminations on death can all be found in one musical space, neatly resolving themselves so that the next set of ideas unhurriedly spring forth from his fingers. Through all the volativity comes tranquility as well, nowhere better stated on the set than through the relaxed reading of “Manha De Carnaval” where time slows down as Kikuchi gently and quietly caresses the beautiful melody, thoughtfully adding ornamentation. Some of the musical ideas expressed in “Part IV” hint at the classic Brazilian melody, and he effortlessly glides into the full song a short time later. The jagged angularity of “Part VI” seems to erase that previous tenderness, but as is revealed throughout the album Kikuchi was a master of shapes and shading, letting earlier improvised ideas develop further, and always returning to a place of considered reflection. “Part X” sounds like Tokyo at dusk in a rare moment of quiet as if someone is observing the beauty of the sky from a rooftop. Once again the pianist showcases his melodic gift on the encore “Little Abi” for his daughter, a piece first recorded in the early 70’s with bassist Gene Perla and drummer Elvin Jones. The tender melody is almost impressionistic and musically communicates the love of a parent for a child and the joy shared together.
“Black Orpheus” is a posthumous release and one that is so wonderfully crafted. It captures an improviser and one of jazz’s most singular talents at his absolute peak, and further ECM releases drawn from his large recorded backlog will be most welcome.
Reviewed by CJ Shearn
ECM 473 2215
Masabumi Kikuchi: piano
Recorded October 26, 2012
“Black Orpheus” culled from a solo recital on October 26, 2012 in Tokyo, Japan was the late pianist Masabumi Kikuchi’s final concert. The recording is a powerful and emotionally stirring snapshot of his playing alternately dense yet conscious of space that marked the final portion of his career. The July 6th, 2015 passing of Kikuchi following complications after a stroke has left a huge void that continues to reverberate; he was one of the most individual improvisers in jazz.
“Sunrise”, a trio date with bassist Thomas Morgan, and the late drummer Paul Motian, was the only ECM recording the pianist made during his lifetime, a shining example of the complete freedom that lead to a style uniquely his own. The fascinating 2010 mini documentary “Out of Bounds” was an incredibly rich look into Kikuchi’s process as a musician, improviser as well as human being. He quite candidly remarked at one point that the music he made at that juncture in his career was the best he ever made because he was free of the constraints of the past and that he was not quite sure of the end goal in playing his own work, that any little progress he made was a tiny piece of the end result. “Black Orpheus” certainly supports that claim, and the assertion made at the end of the documentary that he was looking to create a perfect solo concert from start to finish. Kikuchi had not played in his native Tokyo for many years, instead the hustle and bustle of New York City served as his base since the 1970’s. His album “Poo-sun” (Philips, 1970) was a milestone and he made many excellent recordings with Gil Evans, an as yet unreleased 1978 session with Miles Davis, and the trio Tethered Moon featuring Gary Peacock on bass and Paul Motian. He had retired from public performances but kept recording at home, with the full blessing of ECM, and “Sunrise” presented the pianist with the opportunity to play a solo concert in Japan, made all the more poignant because it was his last. “Black Orpheus” is also a testament to the profound originality found on solo piano releases on ECM by the likes of Chick Corea, Paul Bley and Keith Jarrett, and it also strikes a balance between melodicism and atonal excursions that make Kikuchi’s late period so fascinating.
In the confines of one piece, the pianist goes between these extremes and also finds middle ground. Take for example the stream of consciousness probings of “Part I”, Part III” and “Part IV” where the common denominator is meditative carefully calculated melodic lines interspersed with whirlwinds of intense, frenetic tightly packed clusters of melody and harmony. The shift in ideas is as if the pianist is struggling with inner conflict or his own mortality. The joys and beauty of life next to contemplations of the natural world and ruminations on death can all be found in one musical space, neatly resolving themselves so that the next set of ideas unhurriedly spring forth from his fingers. Through all the volativity comes tranquility as well, nowhere better stated on the set than through the relaxed reading of “Manha De Carnaval” where time slows down as Kikuchi gently and quietly caresses the beautiful melody, thoughtfully adding ornamentation. Some of the musical ideas expressed in “Part IV” hint at the classic Brazilian melody, and he effortlessly glides into the full song a short time later. The jagged angularity of “Part VI” seems to erase that previous tenderness, but as is revealed throughout the album Kikuchi was a master of shapes and shading, letting earlier improvised ideas develop further, and always returning to a place of considered reflection. “Part X” sounds like Tokyo at dusk in a rare moment of quiet as if someone is observing the beauty of the sky from a rooftop. Once again the pianist showcases his melodic gift on the encore “Little Abi” for his daughter, a piece first recorded in the early 70’s with bassist Gene Perla and drummer Elvin Jones. The tender melody is almost impressionistic and musically communicates the love of a parent for a child and the joy shared together.
“Black Orpheus” is a posthumous release and one that is so wonderfully crafted. It captures an improviser and one of jazz’s most singular talents at his absolute peak, and further ECM releases drawn from his large recorded backlog will be most welcome.
Reviewed by CJ Shearn
