Daniel Rotem: Solo II - Under Construction At Bluewhale

This album plays as a story of second comings, both for a beloved West Coast jazz spot and a compelling artist's solitary explorations. Back in the fall of 2024, bluewhale—one of L.A.'s most welcoming clubs, permanently shuttered at its original location during the pandemic—was in the midst of starting a new lease on life in a different space.  On November 10 of that year, venue proprietor Joon Lee held an open house to signal the shape of a scene to come.  He invited Daniel Rotem to play for the event, which drew a crowd intent on bringing positive energy into the atmosphere, and the saxophonist's thirty-minute solo performance was a hit. More than that, it led the reedist to reflect on his horn's sound in those confines.   A bare room with no acoustic treatment to speak of—a foundation ready for further development—the unadorned area offered a reverberant, enveloping warmth. In doing so, it called to Rotem. 

Having tested the waters, the saxophonist yearned to record there before things changed. And performing alone, which served him well on that November night—and on the fascinating, COVID-era Solo (Self Produced, 2021)—was the obvious way to go.  Luckily, time was on his side, with a long road ahead for the club's renovations. Subsequently, a video series—"under construction," documenting musicians working in the evolving, unfinished space—was developed, giving Lee an opportunity to promote both structural progress and musical ingress.  And Rotem's hopes were fulfilled within that project, allowing him to capture his tenor (and soprano)  in resonant recital mode.

Rotem's episode, recorded on August 21, 2025 and available for viewing on YouTube, features 16 minutes of riveting sound exploration.  But that's not the whole story or set. Solo II—under construction at bluewhale, elaborating on that offering, features six numbers—approximately 30 minutes of music, split evenly between originals and classics. Opening on his own "A Peace That Starts Within," Rotem is intent on moving inside, beyond and around an arresting motif.  His dual gift for melodic invocation and extrication is ever apparent throughout. What follows—an extemporized introduction to and performance off "God Bless the Child"—proves equally spellbinding.  The slow decay of a soulful melody hanging on air, the light click of sealing pads at play, the knowing embrace of history and mystery, and a stirring exit strategy come together as one.

Shifting gears, and presenting with somewhat desiccated sonics, Rotem visits Thelonious Monk's "Pannonica" on soprano. Unfurling the High Priest of Bop's portrait of the Jazz Baroness with appropriately puckish charm and class, he puts a noticeably different sound and spin on his solo work.  Only a brief departure with the small horn, he then returns to the more sonorous tenor and materials of his own making with the brief and thought-provoking "Starting From the Smallest Place." The haunting "B Team," holding the penultimate position, proves complementary, offering turns of the mind and musical spine.  Prime examples of the virtues of patient curiosity, those shortest of tracks leave the deepest of impressions.  Closing with dry sound and sincere sentiment(s), everything is front and center on "Till There Was You."  The longest yet somehow most direct statement of the bunch, it's a perfect nod to one's true love—person, concept...or room.