Matthew Shipp / William Parker: Re-Union

Some thirty years after they first recorded together as part of saxophonist David S. Ware's celebrated Quartet, pianist Matthew Shipp and bassist William Parker convened once more in a Paris studio for Re-Union. And though their signature styles have become familiar in the interim thanks to sizeable discographies and frequent collaborations, the pair's ultra-refined chemistry remains as potent as ever. Their intimate dialogue both entices and enthralls on the four snatched-from-the-air inventions here, engendering a smile of recognition and a nod of the head in approbation.

Music pours out of them, as if turning on a tap. Shipp surges on currents of imagination which might move from vibrantly reiterated motifs, to thunderous rumblings, birdlike pecking or jitterbugging swing as the moment dictates. For his part Parker's driving pizzicato and careening arco straddle the line separating counterpoint and co-authorship, as he breaks up time with a few bars in one tempo, then switches to another, before a mood-changing strum or a series of eloquent slurs.

The palpable connection between them manifests in a myriad minor adjustments as they recalibrate trajectories, all the while keeping just enough tension and dissonance to body swerve expectation. Both demonstrate a malleable approach in pieces which pass in a welter of mercurial quick changing episodes, punctuated by emphatic passages when simultaneous incantatory figures snap together in a gut punch congruence.

Of particular note is "The New Zo," which harks back to the title of their first duo outing Zo (Rise Records, 1993), where Parker unsheathes his bow, conjuring an almost vocal quality to his wavering smears and growling bottom end, to converse with Shipp as the pianist's dark clusters give way to a lilting minor key refrain, only to veer from prettiness to wailing despair. While almost the entire program is paced out in tandem, Parker does get a solo spot he fills with urgent clef- spanning phrases towards the end of "Further DNA." But they rein in the wilder flights of fancy on "Song Of Two" as stately chords vie with desolate twangs finished off by resonant bent notes for a melancholic climax, a final twist to a fertile partnership which shows no sign of running dry.