The Attic & Eve Risser: La Grande Crue

While it is always challenging to keep up with the prolific output of saxophonist Rodrigo Amado, one consistently sure bet is his Attic trio, which has been a working ensemble since at least 2017, with a series of stellar recordings that have helped stake Amado's claim as one of the premier free improvisers of his generation. Accompanied by drummer Onno Govaert and bassist Gonçalo Almeida, who joined the trio on its sophomore release, Summer Bummer (NoBusiness, 2019), Amado navigates his way through music that is both bracing and inviting, with a freedom that is never entirely without its connections to jazz and the blues. And La Grande Crue is another outstanding entry in the group's catalog, this time joined by the unique talents of pianist Eve Risser.

Amado has worked with idiosyncratic pianists before, most notably Alexander von Schlippenbach, who was part of a free-jazz supergroup of sorts with Amado, bassist Ingebrigt Håker Flaten and drummer Gerry Hemingway on Beyond the Margins (Trost, 2023). But this is the first recorded opportunity for the Attic to match wits with a keyboardist—and Risser is a terrific choice, with a unique vocabulary that she has honed on a range of projects, including memorable large-ensemble releases such as Les Deux Versants se Regardent (Clean Feed, 2016) and Eurythmia (Clean Feed, 2022). Risser is equally at home whether exploring abstract mystery or delighting in earthy abandon, so she is an ideal partner for the Attic, whose imaginative fluidity covers a wide range of emotional registers on these four substantial improvisations.

"Corps" starts the album with tentative engagement, as Risser explores the insides of the piano or offers occasional interjections in the upper register as the trio gets its bearings. But before long, Govaert and Almeida start to find a groove, at which point the intensity builds, and Risser and Amado become more garrulous. The rhythmic structure is always in flux, but it has palpable momentum nonetheless. Moreover, Risser and Amado move within it with remarkable dexterity, sometimes shadowing each other and at other moments holding back to allow the other to develop their ideas autonomously. Amado unleashes some of his most demonstrative playing toward the close of the track, and Risser helps to propel him forward with some pummeling chords. "Peau" has a similar trajectory, with a subtly lyrical temperament that takes on a driving energy as the eleven-minute piece unfolds with Almedia's bass taking the lead in generating the pulse. Risser's evolving dialogue with Amado helps give the piece its distinctive character, and Risser's own stunning technique emerges fully here, with thunderous rumblings and fleet excursions galore.

One of The Attic's distinctive traits is its ability to find structure amidst its freedom, and "Phrase" is a case in point. This twenty-minute extravaganza careens and lurches, but there is always an underlying logic to the madness, with the close rapport between Govaert and Almedia the crucial source of the cohesion. The two expertly hold everything together, keeping the piece on the rails even during its most tumultuous moments. And there are moments of reflection amidst the fury, with Amado venturing into a ruminative mode midway through the piece before Risser's jagged bursts catalyze yet more of the saxophonist's ferocity.

The album closes with "Pierre," another wide-ranging adventure that highlights Risser's use of the interior of the piano, with an ominous, brooding opening that eventually finds a path toward something much more visceral and fierier, fueled by Amado's yearning cries. It is a masterclass in free improvisation by some of the foremost practitioners of the genre.