Caleb Wheeler Curtis and Laurent Nicoud: Substrate

The duo, in jazz or any musical form, is an intimate conversation that requires a large degree of artistic courage. The participants must be willing to expose themselves emotionally as well as musically. It is brutally honest, a practice in individuality within the context of mutual respect and humility. In the case of Swiss pianist Laurent Nicoud and Brooklyn based alto saxophonist Caleb Wheeler Curtis, it is a venture into the musical wilderness without being safely tethered to the efforts of a drummer somehow grounding the proceedings.

At first glance, this looks like an effort between a pianist moored in the European classical tradition conversing with a saxophonist deeply steeped in the jazz tradition created by Black Americans. A closer examination finds a classical player who discovered jazz as a teenager and moved to Brooklyn to study the genre with a wide open spirit. While Curtis has risen to the status of one of the true bright lights of modern jazz, and a prominent practitioner of the alto saxophone in particular, he, like his partner here, is by nature an adventurer, carrying with him the sound of his chosen resident city of New York, and the soul of his many mentors from Philadelphia, including the pianist Orrin Evans.

Most notably, within the twelve original compositions on Substrate, the tandem never imposes itself on the music. Whether operating within strict structural constraints, or those more leaning towards ostinato, the back and forth conversation is by nature free-verse poetry recited in the moment. "Conversation in Between" would be a perfect example of this, with Nicoud's right hand dispensing classically influenced lines anchored by a left hand conjuring up jazz based chord forms. Wheeler Curtis for his part offers bold, melodic playing, not only displaying a mastery of his instrument in the jazz tradition, but connecting with the firmament of all free forms in a state of spontaneous composition. On "Torrential," Nicoud takes on the bass line steering Wheeler Curtis' truly torrential runs and thick, long tones. It is a fascinating turn of sorts for the pianist, seemingly emerging from European formality, into a blues based, swinging release.

This is not to say that Substrate is some type of musical, cultural fusion. The effort is very organic, noticeably unforced and keenly expressive. For the listener, this is extremely satisfying and deeply inviting for one to step inside and go along for the ride. The playing and the compositions are equally subtle and intense. There is plainly a connection between the two that alludes to knowing each other for four years prior to the recording, and spending time together musically in an informal way before any sort of project came to mind. The ease and comfort between the two derived from this time together is what makes this not just another duo project, more than just an interesting and surprisingly satisfying moment in time.

"Substructure" is a read and react piece that serves as the opening salvo for the album. It seems the classical/jazz dichotomy is revealing what is to come with this piece, yet "Ostinato #3" quickly dispels any such notion. Nicoud's harmonic canvas grounds Wheeler Curtis' melodic bursts and free-spooling lines that peak above and beyond the orchestral embrace of the pianist. While emotionally somber at times, the tune mood-swings to more joyous heights, melodically fluttering in the harmonic breeze.

"C Minor in Brooklyn" sounds much like the common ground somehow found between two musicians arriving at a common location. It belies the fact at how far apart their points of origin are, both musically and geographically. Wheeler Curtis' playing is stunningly simple and straight to the point, revolving around a common center with Nicoud. Players of the altoist's sort are few and far between, and Wheeler Curtis has certainly earned the accolades he has received as one of his generation's best.

Substrate brings to mind duos that at first glance may have appeared as longshots. Ralph Towner/ Gary Burton comes to mind, or Joe Lovano/Gonzalo Rubalcaba. Tete Montoliu and George Coleman brought to light two colliding jazz cultures from Spanish flamenco roots within the Black music tradition. But this recording seems to avoid the challenge of differing musical roots, choosing to ignore them and simply play music on a certain day, at a certain time. Though recorded in Zurich, the music speaks to the growing diversity of jazz forms prolifically residing in Brooklyn in the here and now.

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