Thierry Maillard Trio with Prague Philharmonic Orchestra, Jan Kucera conducting.
Label: Naïve Records
Scheduled Release Date: September 25, 2015

The Trio: Thierry Maillard : Piano, composition, arrangement and orchestration
Yoann Schmidt : Drums
Dominique Di Piazza : Bass

The Soloists: Didier Malherbe: Duduk, Flutes Minino Garay : Percussions
Olivia Gay : Cello
Nguyên Lê : Guitar
Neil Gerstenberg: Whistle
Taylan Arikan: Bağlama
Marta Kloučková: Vocals

All tracks composed by Thierry Maillard.
Mixing at the Studios de Meudon by Julien Bassères. Mastering by Mark Haliday.

After 2014’s critically acclaimed and hugely successful album “The Alchemist,” Thierry Maillard and his trio have recorded “The Kingdom of Arwen” on the Naïve Label. In addition to the trio is the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra under the baton of Jan Kucera. The scheduled release date is September 25, 2015.

The trio is Maillard on piano with Dominique Di Piazza on bass and Yoann Schmidt returning on drums. With such a centered and powerful core trio, the orchestra provides the lush and expansive backdrop to the intimate work of Maillard, Di Piazza and Schmidt.

Thierry Maillard is a flawless composer and arranger with 12 albums as a leader and many more as contributor and sideman. He studied at the Ecole Normale de Musique where he was instructed in piano and accordion and also learned music theory and analysis. His heart was drawn to composition and orchestration and, at the age of 17, discovered his love of Jazz. Later, he traveled to New York City to learn from the best.

Strings have been important to him from the beginning and, after forming a trio, added a string quartet to form 2000’s septet. This launched Maillard into a new direction of combining Jazz and Classical forms and instruments into a new expression. He has performed with such greats as John Patitucci, Dennis Chambers, Bireli La-grene, Chris Minh Doky, Bobby Shew, Débora Seffer, Michel Portal, Bernard Lubat, Didier Lockwood, Dominique Di Piazza, Matthew Garrison, and more. His performances are stellar and his bandmates are always top of the tier with “The Kingdom of Arwen” being no exception.

The album opens with “Ethnic Song.” The orchestra plays the role of the large Jazz ensemble. The lyrical chase between Jazzy styles rapidly crosses over cultural and natural barriers from Gershwin-like to Shostakovich-like with all brought into unity by Maillard’s gorgeous piano textures. The trio takes center stage with bassist Dominique DiPiazza and drummer Yoann Schmidt standing far in front of the orchestra and then engulfed by the waves of the orchestral arrangement.

“The World of the Elves” follows after. I’ve always imagined Tolkien elves as Jazz fans. Maillard paints elven landscapes with orchestral oils that do not wither or wear away. There is life, dignity and the slightest hint of melancholy. There is also a loving playfulness at work here. Maillard also sets forth a determination and resolve that is produced—late in the song—by fascinating chord changes. With that is a sylvan theme that carries the song away to conclusion. A sweet duo of piano and piccolo.

“The Kingdom of Arwen” is the title track and embodies an almost Middle Eastern feel to introduce the track. The double-reeds overtake the theme followed by dominant piano and strings who introduce the theme that carries the piece to the end. The orchestration is intriguing and imaginative. The piccolo, horns and strings with the trio assume the theme together that speaks of a delicate, fragile beauty.

The piece has an enigmatic charm that is enhanced by the staggered rhythms of Schmidt’s drums. Maillard’s own syncopated, percussive piano attack conjures images of a light-hearted Arwen, now in Lorien, now in Rivendel, and then as the regal Queen of the West while never forgetting her legacy as Elrond’s daughter and descendant of Luthien Tinuviel. In the end it speaks of Arwen’s long years alone after the passing of the King Elessar with an unspeakable effect on the listener.

“Heiroglyphs” follows with distinct Egyptian tonal motifs as captivating as Maillard’s own scorching piano work which surges ahead of all else. The Prague Philharmonic Orchestra is exquisite in their rich, lush, chimera-like accompaniment of the trio’s masterful treatment of the melody and rhythm. The orchestral dissonance in the trio’s break is invigorating. It is another fine example of Maillard’s dedication to Jazz insertions into classical forms.

“Sphynx (Part 1)” is a female voice (Marta Kloučková) intoning the introduction that is joined by Maillard’s solo piano. The Saharan landscape is imagined with the shifting wind of her voice and the mirage from the heat of the sand being captured in Maillard’s piano. The trio and orchestra leap into the music on “Sphynx (Part 2).”

On “Part 2” the melody is more pronounced, even strident. Piano, bass and drums anchor that melody and then assume it completely. The returning orchestra become the background for Maillard, Di Piazza and Schmidt. The nobility, the energy, the beauty and the legacy of the Sphynx are splashed across the imagination until the Sphynx is delicately obscured by the sands of the Sahara. It may be the most exciting piece on the album.

“The Highlands” is marked by the rhythm section creating a march as the pizzicato strings offer a chant as Maillard’s piano cries a woeful remembrance. The march to nowhere speaks of human failure without allowing for futility.

“Zappa” is extraordinary. You may think you know what to expect in a song with this title but you’re still not prepared. If Frank Zappa was anything, he was exacting and precise. Playing music by Frank Zappa is one of the most difficult things for any musician. Writing a tribute to Zappa with Zappa’s own craftiness is next to impossible. Thierry Maillard, however, has done it with splendid directness and daring.

Throughout the 10-minute piece, glimpses of Zappa’s motifs are caught while Maillard creates the emotional impact of our great loss from Zappa’s passing. Zappa was especially demanding for drummers. Maillard is merciless. Schmidt breaks away to different chronometrics than the orchestra and Maillard’s arpeggios. The guitar spot-on. If there is a life to come and if they who are there can hear us, then somewhere Frank Zappa is smiling with that wonderful smirk on his face.

“The Legend of Sparta’s King” comes next. There are few of Sparta’s kings that would inspire a song: Homer’s Menelaus, perhaps; Leonidas of Thermopylae, certainly, and two or three more. No matter which king, they all bore similar characteristics. Mostly farmers but all warriors. Their lives were anything but idyllic—they labored intensely in war and in peace.

The trio and orchestra weave a tapestry of love for home and dedication to country. With the lovely, even pastoral, melody there is a stamp and marching of soldiery until a horn blast calls to war. It is a lament of losing life and love in service of others.

“Between the Silence” is one of the most lyrically moving pieces of the album. It is an enchanting work of trio with orchestra as the trio never loses cohesion. In one or two quick moments, you hear Millard’s plosive vocalizations of rhythm and understated words spoken to himself.

The orchestra is vivid and creates a wide-eyed vision of the world while Maillard’s piano is penetrating and direct. It is an inspiring and invigorating work. The drama and pathos of life are expressed in the depths and rhythms and changes of the music.

“Trait d’Union” features Maillard’s piano that dominates from start to finish. He is a powerful player who can shift from aggression to passivity, from rawness to refined delicacy, in the space of a heartbeat. All of that is on full display here. Whether he is playing like Zeus’ thunderbolt or like Aphrodite’s whispers of love, Maillard is master over all. “Trait d’Union” is a Jazz triumph.

Thierry Maillard and his trio created an album of ineffable beauty with “The Alchemist.” Now with the Prague Philharmonic Orchestra under Jan Kucera on “The Kingdom of Arwen” they have coupled beauty with a vast tonal spectrum that allows Maillard to paint his compositions with wider hues and finer brushes. It indeed takes a full orchestra to offer him a full palette of colors. He uses those colors to perfection. In the end, the orchestra supports but never supplants the trio. In the end, it is Maillard’s superb compositions and arrangements that capture the attention and imagination.

Maillard the master pianist is also Maillard the inexorable leader and incomparable composer. “The Kingdom of Arwen” is a stunning work of Jazz emotion and Maillard is one of the most disciplined and romantic Jazz composers ever. I was not sure that Thierry Maillard could ever surpass the sheer beauty of "The Alchemist." It seems that Maillard knows no boundaries, even those that he himself sets.



~Travis Rogers, Jr. is The Jazz Owl







Visit his website at: http://www.thierrymaillard.com/
"Like" him on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Thierry‐Maillard/
Purchase "The Kingdom of Arwen" on MP3 at the Amazon link below.
If you missed "The Alchemist" it is also available on the appropriate Amazon link below.
 

Sakoto Fujii has been creating stunning music in her various groups for almost 25 years with over 75 albums to her credit. She has fronted trios, quartets and five incarnations of her Satoko Fujii Orchestra.

With what began as a trio on a world tour, a development occurred in 2013-14 as trumpet virtuoso Natsuki Tamura would join them often as guest artist in various places. Fujii, fluid as ever, abandoned the name “New Trio” for the group and chose “Tobira.” Tobira is the Japanese word for door. The album is released on Libra Records (204-038).

“I wanted to open the door to bring some fresh air to the music and keep it from being closed,” she writes in the liner notes of Tobira’s album, “Yamiyo Ni Karusa.” which is a Japanese folktale translated as “A Crow in the Night.”

Tobira is comprised of Satoko Fujii pon piano, Natsuki Tamura on trumpet, Todd Nicholson on bass and Takashi Itani on drums and percussion. Amazing artists one and all.

As always, Fujii is supremely original and this album is no exception. There are pulse-pounding rhythms, vibrant tones and dark chords woven together into a multi-shaded tapestry of sound.

The first track is “Hanabi (Fireworks)” and is introduced by Tamura’s trumpet. His tight embouchure intonations—with no reliance on valves—creates a fascinating percussion. His sustained tone goes on and on until Itani’s drums roll in. The piano and bass join in full as the piano overtakes the trumpet.

The melodic lines are coupled by piano and Nicholson’s bass as the trumpet continues unabated with drums until the full, quick stop.

Itani solos on drums as a mirror for Fujii’s piano lines. He recreates with the cymbals the rhythmic notes of Fujii. Itani is simply unforgettable.

The piano and percussion trade with each other until Nicholson’s bass returns with Tamura close behind. The percussion creates the explosions of the fireworks as the scintillating lights are flashed by Tamura’s trumpet.

The piano motif is splendid and beautifully memorable. Nicholson’s solo is dance-like and warm.

There is a children’s sparkler in Japan called “senko-hanabi” which looks like an incense stick. They are lit as the last of the package. It is supposed to move the watcher to silence and instill a sense of “mono no aware,” a sense of empathy towards all things. At the very end, the last ember falls away, like a tear.

And so ends, “Hanabi”—on a tearful farewell.

“Run after a Shadow” starts with Nicholson’s bowing a vibrant bass with spiccato touches as Fujii’s piano draws near. It becomes increasingly clear that Fujii has chosen her artists well. They are astonishing in tone, technique and rhythm.

The piano begins to build until the bass and drums attend in full trio with a wonderfully dark line. Itani washes in and out with the piano. The fleeting, shadowy piano is pursued by the drums in an electrifying composition of pursuit and evasion.

“Fuki” begins with a ripping trumpet with percussion. The phrase “fuki” is sometimes rendered “to depart this life” or “to make an exit.” That is borne out with the dark construct and tone of the piece.

It is the virtuosity of Tamura and Itani, however, that breathes life into a piece about dying. Remarkable.

“Wind Dance” begins as a soft and lovely solo piano piece. The swirling piano lines are ruptured by the crashing cymbal and replaced by a drifting bass. The drums dive underneath for the duration of the bass solo.

The piano returns with what sounds like a nod and a wink to Led Zeppelin. But surely that cannot be.

Itani’s drums are rich and full, carving the space for the piano to fade away lightly to conclusion.

The fifth track is “Centrifugal Force.” Todd Nicholson bows the introduction in preparation for Fujii and Itani. Centrifugal force is outward force created by a spinning frame of reference; it is true of the physical force and equally true of this musical piece. There is a loss of balance for the listener in places and this is surely Fujii’s intent.

Fujii has a remarkable talent for creating the feeling she desires—not just emotion but vertigo or warmth or a quickened pulse. The trio is spot on and, with broken tempos and staggered phrasing, make this piece especially captivating.

“Potential Energy” begins with a beautiful trumpet introduction. For all his attacks and percussive playing, Tamura shows gorgeous tone and texture, as well.

Fujii, Nicholson and Itani move in immediately and tone surrenders to rhythm. Don’t mistake—there is melody here.

Again, Itani is superb and deserves great attention. Nicholson follows with a grand bass solo and Fujii plays the piano strings to cool effect. The recapitulation of the opening Jazz motif is wonderful.

The album closes with the title track, “Yamiyo Ni Karasu.” The sound of crows in the night with shrieks and flutters are covered by the approaching darkness of the piano.

Fujii indeed paints dark hues with her piano as the bass groans against the skittering drums.

The entire album is a dance with darkness. Don’t mistake that for wickedness or wrong-doing. It is an understanding of life’s unknowing and mystery. There are moments of silence and of screams, pursuit and standing still, and it is coming to know the darker moments that opens our vision wider and deeper.

The compositions are wonderfully set for trio and quartet. The artists are intuitive and dedicated to Fujii’s vision of the drama she has imagined. And imagination is the core of her genius. Her artistry is spontaneous and specific, leaving no inclination unexplored.

What depth! What insight! What an absolute pleasure to listen to Satoko Fujji.



                                                                                        ~ Travis Rogers, Jr. is The Jazz Owl




Visit the website at: www.satokofujii.com/
Like Fujii on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/satokofujiipage
Purchase "Yamiyo Ni Karasu" by clicking on the Amazon link below.

Sakoto Fujii is a brilliant and inspiring Jazz genius. There is just no other way to say it. Her compositions are demanding for the performers and enlightening to the hearers. She knows how to generate and control creative tensions. The results are unimaginable. This album, “Ichigo Ichie (Libra Records 212-037),” is the result.

Sakoto Fujii Orchestra Berlin is the fifth incarnation of her orchestra, following New York, Tokyo, Nagoya and Kobe. The only expectations allowed, as she moves from location to location, is an anticipation of complete originality and imagination.

Trumpet virtuoso and longtime collaborator, Natsuki Tamura, in the liner notes described the process of recording “Ichigo Ichie.”

“We had a rehearsal on the 24th, a concert on the 25th and the recording on the 26th. There were some musicians in the band who never met before. Fujii had a rehearsal in this fresh and taut atmosphere.”

Still relatively unknown to each other, the orchestra held a concert and recorded the present album in an atmosphere of tense unfamiliarity that is part and parcel of the perceived concept of “Ichigo Ichie.” It was that freshness that contributed beautifully to the “wild” aspects of Fujii’s music.

The Berlin group was infused with Fujii’s Japanese players, including Natsuki Tamura on trumpet, Kazuhisa Uchihashi on guitar and Fujii herself on piano. The Europeans were Matthias Schubert and Gebhard Ullman on tenor saxophone, Paulina Owczarek on baritone saxophone, Richard Koch and Nikolaus Neuser join Tamura on trumpets, Matthias Müller on trombone, Jan Roder on bass and Michael Griener and Peter Orins on drums. Orins also mixed the recording, beautifully.

The title of the album, “Ichigo Ichie,” is so fitting for this album and its setting. In Japanese, “Ichigo Ichie” is similar to the English phrase “once in a lifetime.” More specifically, in Sa-do (the Way of Tea or the tea ceremony) we are to treat every single meeting as a unique opportunity, treasuring each moment so that we may live meaningfully.

So it is with this album. The meeting of these musicians, the encounter with Fujii’s music, our listening to the music and the treasuring of it all in one moment such as this, makes life meaningful.

“Ichigo Ichie” is virtually a Jazz symphony in four movements. The fifth track is entitled “ABCD.”

“Ichigo Ichie 1” begins with energetic attack from the drums. There is a depth in the recording of this album that gives a sense of depth, making one drum sound nearer and the other farther away. The snares, finger cymbals and full-bodied rolls are intoxicating. At 2:38, you hear someone shout support. With the crescendo of crashes and thunderous rolls from the drums, the orchestra joins in full,

There are moments in the entrance of the orchestra that is reminiscent of “Gagaku” which was ancient Japanese court music, often used for the entrance of the emperor. Instead of a divine emperor, this heralds the entrance of divine music.

Jan Roder on bass gets an extended solo until handing it over to an ever-encroaching trombone. The breathing of the trombone is riveting and Matthias Müller is fascinating in his interpretation and execution of the music.

The over-extended higher-range sustained notes were rough on the brass players and Tamura says as much.

“To tell the truth,” he says, “ it is very tough for horn players to play the high half notes and whole notes in the slow tempo…In the recording session we sometimes record two or three takes. When the recording was over, all the horn players said, “Phew! We blew and blew! I will have swollen lips tomorrow!”

The closing of the first movement has a pacing that recalls “Kimigayo” or the Japanese National Anthem. The titles is usually translated as “His Imperial Majesty’s Reign” but there is no official translation. The words literally describe the years of the emperor’s reign as defining the age or generation.

Sadly, “Kimigayo” is not so often sung in Japan because of the ancient attribution of divinity to the emperor which was forcefully abandoned after World War II. It remains the National Anthem but its firm association with the emperor is severed. That “moment” is also over. The “wildness” of the end of the track becomes a lament to an unrecoverable moment.

“Ichigo Ichie 2” kicks off brilliantly. The runs are exciting. The lovely trumpet cadenza is mournful and the patient wail is joined by the other horns in chorus. Uchihashi’s guitar punctuates the trumpet’s intensity with guitar effects.

The saxes get into the scene with an attack to make Ornette Coleman smile. The rhythm section propels the saxophone forward and finishes with the hot motif that started the movement.

It is a seamless transition into “Ichigo Ichie 3.” The control of the trumpet is astounding. Forget phrases like “atonal,” the trumpet work here is percussive and so well-crafted. It is not at all intended to be melodic. It is, instead, narrative. The trumpet is the tragic hero and the orchestra is the Greek chorus.

Owczarek’s baritone sax becomes the antagonist with Roder’s bass bowing subtly underneath. The instruments literally become the voices of the drama. They remain in this delicious “moment” of unique interaction and end the moment in beautiful chorus.

“Ichigo Ichie 4” is the final movement of this Jazz symphony and it returns to the “Gagaku” theme of the first movement. Sax and bass interact after the reintroduction of the theme with the drums joining in for a trio of vivid interplay. The orchestra re-enters piecemeal for the final reintroduction of the theme. The drums lead the way out as they led the way in.

It is four movements of staggering brilliance. It is the musical equivalent of the Zen axiom, “You cannot enter the same river twice.” We are allowed to experience that one moment and no other moment is like it ever again.

Listen to the four tracks of “Ichigo Ichie” two, three, four times or more and it will never sound the same. You cannot hear the same “Ichigo Ichie” twice. Fujii has shown us the beauty and the wisdom of what “Ichigo Ichie” really means.

“ABCD” is the fifth and final track. Although it stands outside the “Ichigo Ichie” symphony or suite, it is a brilliant coda to the work and the album.

“ABCD” opens with a rhythmic “kissing” of the trumpet mouthpiece. The orchestra comes alongside with percussive depths, paving the way for the baritone saxophone inclusion. The drums are broad and far-reaching while the horns add texture to the baritone’s runs.

Finally, at almost the 6-minute mark of this final track, we get to hear Sakoto Fujii herself on piano. She is as brilliant and original in her performing as she is in her composing.

The trombone punctuates her piano touches and, together, they weave a fabric that is both delicate and aggressive. The interaction between the two is simultaneously immediate and familiar.

The full orchestra take a step into the interaction. The freshness of the orchestra’s acquaintances restate the whole theme and idea of Ichigo Ichie—each moment is a unique treasure and is unrepeatable.

The tension of unfamiliarity plus dedication to the music and the orchestra creates that unrepeatable moment. The album concludes with each member of the orchestra contributing their singular voice, not fearing dissonance or atonality or even arrhythmia. They are in complete trust of the music, the composer, each other and, especially, the moment.



                                                                                                ~ Travis Rogers, Jr. is The Jazz Owl





Visit the website at: www.satokofujii.com/
Like Fujii on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/satokofujiipage
Purchase "Ichigo Ichie" by clicking on the Amazon link below.

Berta Rojas has proven over and over that she can play any guitar style with any group or musical partner she chooses. Whether it is a Jazz interpretation of Paraguayan music with Pacquito Di Rivera or solo classical guitar or with a young people’s orchestra called the Landfill Orchestra or, now, with an Argentine Chamber Orchestra performing the music of tango, Berta Rojas commands albeit with a gentle hand.

She does not need to be praised with a qualifying remark about her gender. Quite simply, she is a brilliant guitarist.

Now she turns her magnificent skills and imagination on the tango. The album, entitled “History of the Tango,” is a cosmic convergence of the best possible variables. The tango is the centerpiece of the album. Stunning compositions from the likes of Astor Piazzolla, Carlos Gardel and more have provided a corpus of tango music that allows Berta Rojas to choose the very best, most appropriate, pieces in the genre. This is one of the hallmarks of a Berta Rojas recording; she focuses on the music and lets her own artistry enhance the music.

Her artistry is the second subject of the convergence. Her talents and skills are fueled by her own indescribable warmth and emotion. That was proven by her two previous albums which both gathered Latin Grammy nominations.

With those are the arranging brilliance of Carlos Franzetti who has taken the various pieces of tango music and has shaped them into something wonderful for the guitar and orchestra. That orchestra, the Camerata Bariloche, is a well-known Argentine orchestra who have enjoyed amazing success since their formation in 1967. Under the direction of Popi Spatocco, Camerata Bariloche, is suitably equipped for the task at hand.

It should be noted that not all of the selections are strictly tangos. Two of the pieces are milongas. The milonga is suitable for dancebut does not employ the same repetitive rhythm of the tango. There is also a sample of the vals criollo, a South American waltz, as well as a tango-flavored film piece.

It is one of those milongas that lead off the album. “Taquito Militar” (Military Heels) by Mariano Mores shows the beautiful interaction of Berta’s guitar and the Camerata Bariloche. While Berta gets highlights and solos, the guitar is treated more like a voice of the orchestra than a solo instrument. It is a lively and utterly enjoyable piece.

It opens with a solo guitar the stamp of heels before being joined by Camerata Bariloche. While the guitar is the featured instrument, the bandoneon makes a pronounced appearance. The piece is strident and penetrating. Berta’s expressive, vivace intonations stand out brightly and give wide-eyed life to the performance.

“Sur” (South) is a 1948 tango by Homero Manzi. It is piece reflective of one of the southern neighborhoods of Buenos Aires. It is more of a vocal tango with the orchestra setting a lovely backdrop for the guitar and the lovely bandoneon played by Néstor Marconi. Marconi is one of the most famous bandoneon players in the world and he lends his remarkable talents to the album.

It is a beautiful partnership of guitar and bandoneon. A vocal tango, the interaction of the two principal instruments is convivial and even touching. It is lilting and reflective and sweetly memorable.

“History of Tango” was a great work of Astor Piazzolla from 1980. It is practically a concerto in four movements with the guitar as the principal instrument and the flute often in duet. The four movements are conceptually chronological with each movement represented four of the phases of the tango’s historical epochs.

The first epoch/movement is “Bordello, 1900” and is set in the risqué atmosphere of the bordello where it was danced. It is what Piazzolla himself thought of as Old Guard tango.

The dance nature of this era is exemplified with the firm stepping in the beginning. Guitar and oboe interact effortlessly in this arrangement. The “sauciness” required is pronounced perfectly by Berta’s guitar, with oboe and orchestra.

Berta strikes smartly against the fluid oboe with the steps coming through energetically and passionately.

The second movement/epoch is “Café, 1930.” By this time, the tango was no longer danced by was considered music to be listened to, according to the liner notes. This period was the time of rapt attention to the music itself.

While it does not compel dancing, there remains the slow movement of bodies in motion in a romantic but melancholy affection. Lovers sitting and listening together is envisioned in the hearing of the music is portrayed so well in the guitar and oboe interplay. The second phase of the song rises above the melancholy into a sweeter and brighter display of what the lovers enjoy in the music together.

The third movement/epoch is “Nightclub, 1960.” It represents the “New Tango” that was universally recognized. It was Astor Piazzolla himself who had shaped and developed this new tango. This piece is truly Piazzolla with all of its quirky movements and times.

It is extraordinarily arranged by Carlos Franzetti. It is sultry and passionate and unpredictable in its shifts. Berta moves from presto to andante to adagio and back again with fluid ease. The piece in in complete counterpoint to the melancholy that came before.

Berta is phenomenal in her execution. If one were to ever need reminding of why Berta Rojas is a guitarist without peer, this track alone is sufficient to remind.

The fourth movement is “Concert d’aujourd’hui, 1980” (Modern Day Concert, 1980) and is an exposition on the future of the tango. With a glance over the shoulder to the past, Piazzolla sets his sights on what is to come and creates a map of how to get there. Piazzolla himself said that it recalls Bartok and Stravinsky.

The dissonance is delicious and the odd movement of this tango is fascinating. Berta’s guitar cuts against the orchestra precisely and, at times, almost surreally. It is Dali’s answer to Picasso.

The first of the two Carlos Gardel pieces is “El dia que me quieras” (The Day You Love Me). It was composed in 1934 as a film piece for a movie of the same name. While not strictly a tango, it contains elements easily recognizable in tango. It may be Gardel’s most famous work.

Languidly romantic, it is easily imagined as a movie soundtrack. The soft majors are warm and expressive and Berta plays above the orchestra lightly and brightly. The oboe of Andrés Spiller is full of longing and life.

“Naranjo en flor” (Orange Tree in Bloom) is by Virgilio Expósito and is a 1944 work based on a poem written by Virgilio’s brother, Homero. It is stunning in its sheer musicality.

Expósito’s craftsmanship is exact and purposeful. Berta and Camerata Bariloche are spot-on in their execution of the work. It is meditative and reflective and speaks of how love is lost. Not at all depressing but certainly heart-breaking.

“Nocturna” by Julián Plaza is the second milonga piece on the album. Again, it lends itself uniquely to the dance. It is nothing like a Chopin nocturne in any sense. It is a nightlife of festivity and fun. Berta’s vivace is equally fun and portrays energy and joy.

“Oblivion” is also by Astor Piazzolla, written in Rome in 1983 for Belocchio’s movie, Henry IV. It is probably my favorite piece on the album. Berta’s tonality and phrasing are exquisite. The orchestra is lush.

A contemplative work, it is self-examining and demanding. It is Like Nietzsche’s warning that “if you stare into the abyss, be aware that the abyss is staring back.”

“Por una cabeza” (By a Head) the second piece by Carlos Gardel was also written for the movies, specifically for the 1935 film “Tango Bar,” although it gained huge acclaim as the piece to which Al Pacino danced in “The Scent of a Woman” from 1992.

There is a delightful pairing of Berta’s and Marconi’s bandoneon. The violins add an extra dimension, creating a fourth axis for the brilliant piece.

 “Palomita blanca” (White Dove) is the single example of vals criollo and was composed by Anselmo Aietain in 1929. Although called Argentina’s answer to the waltz, it is not really a dance piece but more of a song.

There is a lilt and a swing in the movement here that puts one in mind of a waltz. The bandoneon is gorgeous against the orchestra here. Berta, however, works in and around the orchestra in a partnership of delicacy.

Berta Rojas is the principal soloist but with these splendid arrangement of Franzetti’s, she is one of the voices of the orchestra. Popi Spatocco is the masterful conductor of Camerata Bariloche and coaxes the very best from them.

Berta worked closely with Franzetti in partnership to take the finest examples of tango and tango-influenced works to create a fantastic panoply of the far reaches of Argentine musical influence.

Berta has taken Piazzolla’s work of genius—The History of Tango—as the fulcrum of her album of the same name but she has gone far beyond the narrow bounds of Piazzolla’s suite. She incorporated music that was not only tango but tango-esque and even tango-ish to reveal the depths and breadth of tango’s influence.

Berta Rojas has a unique approach and passion for the music of Latin America. She infuses it with Classical and Jazz stylings and offers it to a much wider audience that ever imagined by the composers. She is not only an ambassador for Paraguayan culture, Berta Rojas is an ambassador for music.

Follow Berta on Twitter at: @BertaRojas
Like Berta on Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/bertarojas.guitarist
Visit Berta's website at: www.bertarojas.com
Purchase "History of Tango" on MP3 or CD at Amazon.