Kris Davis Trio: Lost In Geneva

On Lost In Geneva, pianist Kris Davis extends the compositional and improvisational inquiry of Run The Gauntlet (Pyroclastic, 2024), deepening her interplay with bassist Robert Hurst and drummer Johnathan Blake. While the trio does not attempt to reinvent the format—bass and drums adroitly take care of business—it nonetheless subtly flexes the language. As well as tonal improvisations, the group also buys into Davis' singular writing, integrating nagging diversions and passages of minimalist patterning alongside the melodic invention and driving beat.

Artists are often advised to program a CD as they would two sides of vinyl. That approach certainly provides one lens through which to view the eleven studio selections here. Five Davis originals make up the first "side." Standout among them is the opening "The Subtext," which passes in a welter of riffs and angular figures, one close on the heels of another, but still embraces spots for Hurst's nimble pizzicato and an explosive Blake feature that continually tests the limits, but always remains just within them. The tightness of the threesome evident here informs the whole album.

The romanticism and mystery of the title cut intimate that being lost in Geneva might be a magical experience, while the unresolved ending hints that homecoming might still be a way off. Sprung rhythms and an intoxicating flow, verging on the atonal at times, distinguish "Where Does That Tunnel Go?," while "The Ballerina" teeters en pointe, before being given wings by the propulsive lift of bass and drums.

Collective explorations of timbre bookend the second "side." Davis' piano preparations evoke gamelan on "Mourning Dove," before she settles on a repeated three- note phrase, which proves to be the foundational motif of the following track, Hurst's buoyant "The Bluesy Bird In Bob's Backyard." Continuing the environmental theme with an unexpected but inspired move, Davis gives Morton Feldman's "Nature Piece 5" a jerky hip-hop-inflected makeover, while on "The Deer Fly" the trio circles patiently before unleashing another craggy piano outburst. The final "Northern Flicker" (a type of woodpecker, for those residing outside North America) marries clangs, rustles and plucks, before finishing with a brief reprise of the three-note phrase first heard on "Mourning Dove."

That echo gives a satisfying suite-like coherence to the collection, binding its contrasting textures and rhythmic gambits into a carefully shaped whole. On Lost In Geneva Davis once again reconciles her avant-garde instincts with the thrust and élan of modern jazz for a thoroughly rewarding listen.