Joe Lovano / Marilyn Crispell / Carmen Casaldi: Garden of Expression

Artists inspire art. Provide a contented place. So let your mind (sans the hoopla it entertains itself with) go where it may (lest it lean towards insurrection) and take Trio Tapestry—Joe Lovano, Marilyn Crispell, and Carmen Castaldi—in the with you. And don't forget to bring their second gorgeous, justly titled Garden of Expression along for the ride.

Heralding throughout, Lovano rises not above Crispell and Castaldi, but along with them, like three tough-muscled hawks in flight. Smudging the margins. Coaxing, teasing, probing, praying. Ideas floating, flitting high. Like pollen, milkweed, dust. The dust of open fields, and values. Old churches and the ancient towns upon which they still cast a shadow. Men and women. Old and new.

Lovano may not have a knack for the coolest, noir abstract titles, but he's an honest guy who can help in the conjuring of visions and the hearing of marvelous intonations. "Chapel Song," "Night Creatures," "West of the Moon." Each it's own unknown, each with its own knowing. Its own absolution. Tenuously akin but parent to "Treasured Moments" and "Sacred Chant." How many of those can you count on these days?

So go create and conquer our great malaise as Castaldi whispers spirit-like and draws your attention inward, outward, tribal. Crispell peaks at her late day, pugnacious, meditative best, and Lovano is Lovano is Lovano. An honest guy with a big heart, a deep warm horn, and a questing soul never afraid to walk the path alone or with present company accepted.