Tilman Günther, Dominik Schürmann: Poems

The worst of times is often a fertile moment for literature and the arts. Pablo Picasso, Francisco Goya, Dmitri Shostakovich and Saint Augustine lived through calamity. Their work was often an expression, if not a reflection, of enveloping chaos, not to say frank destruction. When things fall apart, artists often strive to rediscover meaning, or to express pure existential dread. It is a paradox to think we are enriched by suffering and misery, but, alas, sometimes that is so. This lovely recording, Poems, is just such an artefact, of a nasty time that nevertheless gives birth to beauty. This is, perhaps, one of music's greatest virtues.

Dominik Schürmann, a Swiss bassist, is not exactly a household name in the North American jazz world, but his profile there should be higher. His previous records (typically in a trio) include Moons Ago (2022) and Forever (2024) often featuring saxophonist Max Ionata. And like so many bassists, he has played with a lengthy list of bandmates including Hendrik Meurkens, Jorge Rossy and George Gruntz, just to name a few. Here he is joined on piano once more by Tilman Günther. If the idea of a bass and piano duet playing an atmospheric mix of standards and originals suggests roots in Kenny Barron and Charlie Haden, a listener would not be entirely wrong. But stylistically, Günther and Schürmann are quite distinct: less baroque, and in Schürmann's case, less emphasis on the upper register of the instrument and a considerably less booming, percussive attack than Haden's. These musicians are painters, or, perhaps, poets, and the tunes are gentle and beautifully crafted. Tasteful, however, does not mean anodyne. A listener comes away pleasantly relaxed, buoyed even, not ready for a nap. That is probably a tribute to Schürmann's skills as a composer and arranger who can swing at even moderate tempos. The excitement is in the exquisite sound and touch.

So what tunes precisely does one find on offer here? Schürmann himself wrote three of the tunes, including a heartfelt elegy to a canine companion, "Malia," something any pet-lover can understand. Ennio Morricone's "Cinema Paradiso" opens the proceedings, while Fred Hersch's "Endless Stars" closes them. In between, a listener gets to hear Johnny Mandel, Kenny Barron and Michel Legrand. Of all of them Mandel's "A Time for Love" is a personal favorite, although on a late winter's afternoon, all serve to polish off the rough edges of what has been another day of news that many rational people would rather do without. Above all, Schürmann reminds his listeners that "in the tradition" can mean different things, but that it can flow genuinely from talented Swiss players who are a pleasure to hear.