Reincarnation

The opening notes of Reincarnation are arresting without smacking us senseless. Rather, we are are enticed in, a invitation for a voyage that we are helpless to decline. Nor would we want to. The music is steeped in the tradition of the jazz piano trio, yet one feels a subtle push forward, something hitherto unheard in a terrain that is seemingly familiar. This is the very stuff that makes Akira Tateishi's trio so irresistible. The instrumental interplay recalls the most elusive yet persistent of daydreams driven on by ethereal rhythms that find their host in the tapping foot - again, we are powerless to resist. Tateishi's vision, steeped in a myriad of jazz and classical influence, finds perfect expression in his compositional deftness and brilliant arranging, vehicles through which he brings his glimmering improvisations to life with a clarity of intention and a humble uniqueness that eschews ostentation. Ron McClure's performance is a delicate but stern balance of rhythmic and melodic playing. Not only has he perfected the role of the jazz bassist, he transcends its. Peter Zimmer's drumming lures us further in while propelling us forward at the same time, again we return to the tapping foot that has now nearly become the dancing body. Ostensibly serene and tender, this trio is all about motion, a motion quiet yet unstoppable from whence we derive the subtle push forward. This album before you now is a true work of art in a way that few other recordings are. Repeated listenings can attest to this far better that I can put into words. Yet, I shall try.
The opening track, an arrangement of Modest Mussorgsky's "Il Vecchio Castello," draws us in with its crisp upbeat swing. More than that, however, this selection from Pictures at an Exhibition introduces the idea of tableaux into the album. Indeed, we are about to take a journey of reincarnation laden with visual imagery that very well may have come from the remnants of past lives. "Sun and Snow in Winter" develops the visual imagery that the trio is painting in sound. Beginning with McClure's melancholic solo, the piece gives way to lush textures emitting from the interaction of the trio. As the title suggests, one can nearly see the snow swirling in a dazzling and fleeting winter sun. Next, we come upon the curiously titled "Desalination Factory," which grooves with a slowly building momentum that mimics the rhythms of a factory setting. Further, there is the touch of human labor that one sees in this tableau of contemporary life.
"A Kind of Hurry But Not Quite" recalls the push and pull of urban life. As the tune progresses, we are reminded of our struggle to slow down despite the unrelenting rush of city life. The piece never sways completely to one side or the other, holding the tension throughout. "Silently Loud" develops the ongoing theme of paradox that is interwoven into the musical fabric of the album. True to the title, the piece is enveloped in a whisper, and, like the the previous track, holds the tension without swaying totally one way or the other.
An edge of restlessness introduces "At the Bottom," which glides into a more languid Latinesque groove. And yet, the initial restlessness is not relinquished, the sense of unease is faintly detected throughout. Again, we are hovering between the opposites, never giving into on impulse over the other. By contrast, we have "Forty-Four," which lilts us into a ballad of delicate nostalgia. The sentiment is developed in McClure's bass solo, which in turn is developed by Tateishi and Zimmer forming a dense interplay that is at once ecstatic and agitated, reminiscent of Spring budding.
A quirky and subtly maniacal bounce underrides "Aftershocks." The theme gives way to a piano solo that keeps pushing the inner logic of the theme, which is then passed, sports-like, to the bass solo. Never once does the momentum let up when the theme is reintroduced. "Circumfreedom" literally compels one to dance in circles. The trio interplay is notable here, particularly during Tateishi's solo, which expands the dizzying circular motion of the song. Noteworthy, too, is Zimmer's drum solo, which halts the spinning momentarily, only to reestablish it with added intensity.
"Peaceful War" imbues the listener with some of the paradox that the title implies. It is yet another fine example of the balancing of opposites that the Tateishi Trio so masterfully achieve with each piece. The listener is turned inward, reminded of the inner struggle necessary in the pursuit of peace, the necessary motion in search of stillness.The question of motion is explicitly brought to the discussion in "Perpetual Motion,' which seems almost ironic with the rhythmic feel of the tune implying the title's opposite: entropy. Yet, beneath this lies a determined, throbbing drive that pushes the song to its dramatic but understated climax.
In "Rebirth," we return to the album's theme of reincarnation. Somewhat surprisingly, the overall mood of the piece is relaxed and apparently lackadaisical, thus giving some underhanded commentary on the traditional conception of rebirth as traumatic. In this way, the piece offers a kind of musical equivalent to philosophical skepticism. However, we find ourselves refreshed, a distant cry from sinking in the mire of brooding introvertedness. This piece, in some ways, holds the key to understanding the entire album, and, as such, it is appropriately nuanced. Following rebirth comes the development of mental faculties, such as thought. "Thinking of Something," of course, begs the question: what are you thinking about? And, of course, the tunes refuses to give an answer. Instead we have hints that bespeak the secrets of this interior mystery without fully disclosing them.
"Dark Prince" concludes the album's journey. However, rather than giving total closure, the piece suggests that the journey continues onward into eternity. As the final chord rings out and then decays, we are left contemplating the mysterious beauty we have just heard and our voyage along the way. As the album finishes and the ambiance of one's environment return to the listener's perception, we feel as though we have returned home. But home is not the same. A crisp newness infuses things once familiar, evidence of the transformative power of Reincarnation.

-Sean Ali
New York City, 2017