Mehmet Ali Sanlikol, featuring Ingrid Jensen: 7 Shades of Melancholia

Although he was born and raised in Turkey, pianist, composer and educator Mehmet Ali Sanlikol says he was not a student of Turkish musical traditions until after he arrived in the United States more than thirty years ago. By the late '90s, however, Sanlikol, by then a successful working jazz musician, had reconnected with his Turkish roots, studied its grammar and played hundreds of concerts focused on the music of his homeland, blended with elements of American jazz and other musical genres.

7 Shades of Melancholia is for the most part a trio date, with Sanlikol accompanied by bassist James Heazlewood-Dale and drummer George Lernis. Trumpeter Ingrid Jensen sits in on three numbers, soprano saxophonist Lihi Haruvi-Means on one (or two; it is really hard to tell). In spite of the album's title, the music is far from depressing, even though there are moments of minor-key sorrow along the way.

Sanlikol introduces his self-designed Renaissance 17 keyboard on a pair of the album's seven tracks (all of which he composed and arranged), and sings (or chants) on three. The trio opens with Sanlikol's bright and lyrical "Children's Song," then welcomes Jensen on board for "One Melancholic Montuno," which, like "Children's Song," is more jazz-than Turkish-flavored. Jensen plays along, even though her improvisational skills are largely wasted.

Sanlikol inserts voice and Renaissance 17 on the more Middle-eastern grounded "Sedd-I Araban Sarkl" and traverses essentially the same path (singing, presumably in Tukish) on "Huseyni Jam" and "Nikriz Semal," which follow. After opening in a similar vein, the gossamer "Buselik" changes course midstream when Jensen (and perhaps Haruvi-Means) enter the fray, descending toward the coda into sonic chaos. The jazz component makes a welcome comeback on "My Blues," wherein everyone regains his or her customary footing, thus closing the session on a fairly luminous and pleasurable note.

Appraised as pure jazz, 7 Shades of Melancholia does not have much to offer aside from some respectable keyboard work by Sanlikol, even when considering the presence of Jensen and Haruvi-Means (whose support, it should be noted, is minimal). If, however, jazz is seen as part of a broader canvas, one whose music is more culturally centered, Sanlikol and his mates fare somewhat better; that is to say, the themes are well-written and capably performed. Nice music, but borderline jazz at best.