White keys, with François and Louis Moutin
Tracklisting
Click on the titles to listen to a 30sec. excerpt.- White keys (Rocheman)
- Round Midnight (Monk-Williams)
- Not that late (F. Moutin)
- Le Ravin (Rocheman)
- Fast memories (Rocheman)
- Caravan (Tizol-Ellington)
- You and the night and the music (Schwartz-Dietz)
- Intuition (Rocheman)
- Bluesette (Thielemans)
Introduction
"Manuel Rocheman or making a statement"
This disc from Manuel Rocheman makes a statement. The formula is clear
enough. It is not risk-free. Piano, bass and drums: it is one of the
magic triangles, one of the keys of jazz. It combines the art of
conversation, the taste of the chase and a very subtle sense of
initiative. The pianist occupies the centre spot, but is nothing without
the other two.
It is the cohesion of Manuel Rocheman’s trio that is striking. Meaning,
then, that the music is forceful. But it is only afterwards that this is
known. Twins François and Louis Moutin seem to simplify matters; it’s
not so sure they do.
The experimental marker, in this case, is the familiar immersed in the
unknown (the very solution of jazz): the interpretation of Round
Midnight, for example (Monk), or that particularly light, recognisable
and unexpected interpretation of You and the night and the music (by
Schwartz and Dietz, standard) or yet again Toots Thielemans’ Bluesette,
played with spirit and a sort of nervous gracefulness, as if not to be
caught out and to try to exhaust the air, as the urge sometimes arises
when dancing.
The keystone of the construction is indeed Caravan, both overplayed and
shown as a working sketch (the pianist plays solo), in a manifesto of
intentions of manners. The attack, the treatment, the detached, cutting
side of the interpretation, the shelving of sentimentalism, everything
is clearly exposed; a word to the wise is enough.
The whole is a construction of original compositions against a background of repertory pieces or markers. One listens to it as one reads a collection of short stories; with the curiosity of the secret thread running beneath the themes and the pleasure of their separateness. That thread could well be the desire to replay, to play and to outplay which is the mark of musicians who have recently come to the Jazz stage. Some are limited because unable to learn. Others are weighed down by what they know. Manuel Rocheman is one of the third type: those with the strength to step outside their technique and their memory (going beyond them is no longer distinctive), to square up to jazz which, without word play, may be called improvised jazz.
From Francis Marmande (Le Monde)