Robert Jukič 4 + Bram De Looze: Congregation

How about approaching this one through visuals rather than sound for a change? Album covers alone do a remarkable job of transporting us into a particular state of mind, and Robert Jukic's catalog testifies to a consistently compelling visual identity. Izza's (ZKPRTVS, 2022) forsaken armchair beside a crooked telegraph pole or the disintegrating Ford Cortina in the woods on We All Bleed (Real Over Junk, 2026) are every bit as persuasive as the music itself—because of the atmosphere they evoke. Congregation's artwork depicts a pond taken over by white swans, among which swims a solitary Eurasian coot. Birds of a feather are perhaps the very opposite of what Congregation is about: a gathering of distinct musical personalities negotiating their shared space across the 68 minutes of uninterrupted composition—as documented on the ZKP RTVS release.

A graduate of the University of Music and Performing Arts in Graz, Jukič is a seasoned and versatile double bassist whose every new project manages to avoid repeating the same pattern. Active since the 1990s, this is already the fifth release he has appeared on in 2026 alone. The Slovenian entourage of Kristijan Krajnčan (drums), Bostjan Simon (saxophone), and Tomaž Gajšt (trumpet)—who, together with Jukič, make up the Jukič 4—is joined here by Belgian pianist Bram De Looze. Neither is it their debut, nor is this the group's first live document. Res Publica (Jazz Cerkno Records, 2023) captured their performance at the 27th Jazz Cerkno Festival, while the quartet's 2022 studio release explored more conceptual terrain, balancing unrestrained collective improvisation with politically charged track titles.

Since forming in 2018, the quartet has also released two studio albums: Caminos de Gloria (ZKPRTVS, 2021) and Izza (ZKPRTVS, 2022). The former—whether intentionally or by coincidence—shares its title with Stanley Kubrick's anti-war masterpiece Paths of Glory (1957), with its sequence of track titles adding up to a poem that echoes the film's pacifist lament (pardon my loose translation): "Again, Leaves Are Falling / Deafened By Silence / Snow Again Will Be Red / Just Look Away."

Hardly ever looking away, the interactions on Congregation cling to the present moment. This collection of entirely new material was recorded live on November 11, 2025, at Klub Cankarjevega Doma in Ljubljana. Reflected in the stark black-and-white tension of the cover artwork, the late-modernist cultural centre provides an appropriately monumental backdrop for one of its homely jazz clubs. Yet the audience remains remarkably discreet—except for an occasional "whoah!" in the aftermath of a fiery improvisation. This allows the performance to unfold without interruption—from the mournful "There Is A Sin" (past the eponymous prelude) to the frisky "Sure...But Then Again." Even without words, it stands as a compelling statement on careful musical layering and gradual development; just listen to the unhurried way the melody in "There Is A Sin" slowly emerges through the ebb and flow of each instrument, consecutively claiming its place.

De Looze's playing can sound tentative, almost anxious ("Twelve Three Halves"), only to become fierce and expansive moments later on "Odd Light Blue." "Falling Apart in Front of Our Eyes" begins almost as a piano solo, gently unsettled by brushed percussion, the uneven pulse of the double bass, and ascending trumpet lines. Then, almost imperceptibly, it sheds its stumbling disposition, leaving only the bass-and-drums foundation before unfolding into—not merely "a" but the—"Pointless Conversation." Here, Simon's saxophone assumes centre stage. Some pieces exist primarily as breathing spaces ("Left There"), lay-bys before the next sharp turn. The centrepiece, "Like a Tortoise Without a Shell," introduced by Jukič's tiptoeing bass and punctuated by an ongoing dispute between trumpet and saxophone, restores equilibrium while giving each member of Jukič 4—and De Looze—room, before the anthemic trumpet call, after its entry—at 1 minute 35 seconds in—returns to resolve the tension.

The swinging piano on "A Very Tall Tree with Very Deep Roots—And the Waves and the Wind" is continually buffeted by the breathing of the reeds. The effortless transition from one composition to another—whether through the subtle entrance of the tenor saxophone in "Mrs. Wilson" or the bass-and-drums pattern introducing "Pointless Conversation"—binds the individual pieces into a persuasive musical argument. Towards the latter half, compositions border on deliberate clutter ("Portrait of St. John"). Transitive pieces ("Intersections," "Transitions") tie the neurasthenic duo of up-tempo ride cymbal quarter notes and legatissimo piano passages of "Odd Light Blue" to its penultimate spot on the record, setting the stage for that track's more clamorous twin, "Sure..." What a way to end the evening, by whipping up a fever and disappearing into the night.

The newly established Real Over Junk label perfectly encapsulates Jukič's artistic philosophy: "A refusal of disposability, overproduction, and aesthetic inflation. Real sound over content. Real labour over spectacle. Real bodies over profit." In that spirit, Congregation sounds like the meeting of five musicians, each fully invested in the outcome. With 22 albums already behind him, arguing for quality over quantity might appear a risky proposition. Yet Jukič somehow continues to achieve both, consistently pairing adventurous music with equally evocative visual worlds.