Nebbia/Banner/Andrzejewski: Presencia

Argentine tenor saxophonist Camila Nebbia has emerged as a notable presence in the contemporary jazz landscape since relocating to Berlin in 2020. Her collaborations with Marilyn Crispell, Angelica Sanchez and Patrick Shiroishi reflect her adaptability, while solo releases such as Una Ofrenda a la Ausencia and Rastro O Vacío (Relative Pitch, 2023) underscore her introspective bent. On Presencia, she joins British bassist James Banner and German drummer Max Andrzejewski, documenting music forged on European tours in a single live-in-studio session at Bonello Studio—a setting that favors immediacy over polish.

The record opens with "Choco," a compact piece that teeters on the brink of chaos, held together by the trio's alert interplay. Nebbia threads fragmented lines through Banner's grounding pulses while Andrzejewski supplies muscular propulsion. "Arid" follows with sparse harmonics that gradually build toward a tense release, showcasing Nebbia's command of extended techniques, though its escalation occasionally feels more methodical than inevitable. Brief interludes like "Sediment I" function as abstract breathers, emphasizing texture over development and resisting any tidy sense of arrival.

"Lugar" shifts into funk-leaning terrain, evolving from bowed bass murmurs into a more urgent groove. The trio's balance between structure and freedom proves engaging, if not entirely unfamiliar within the broader European improvised scene. "Lattice" explores a blues- inflected deconstruction, Andrzejewski's steady yet jagged rhythms creating space for Banner and Nebbia to probe the tune's framework without tearing it apart. The closing "Sad Song #1" offers a slow-burning meditation, its spectral atmosphere sustained through long tones, arco drones and brushed cymbals. Its restraint is admirable, though listeners waiting for a cathartic crest may find the horizon deliberately out of reach.

Throughout, Presencia captures a band attentive to collective dynamics and sonic nuance. It does not attempt to reinvent the trio format, nor does it need to. Instead, it presents a thoughtful, occasionally gripping document of musicians refining a shared language in real time. The result feels less like a breakthrough than a quietly confident step forward—and sometimes that's enough.