Kris Davis and the Lutoslawski Quartet: The Solastalgia Suite

Kris Davis, the Vancouver-born, Brooklyn-based pianist and composer, stands as one of contemporary jazz’ most visionary figures. A master improviser and bandleader, she has earned multiple DownBeat Critics Poll Pianist of the Year honors, received a Doris Duke Artist Award and co-led the 2023 Grammy-winning album New Standards Vol. 1 (Candid, 2023) for Best Jazz Instrumental Album. These accolades merely confirm what her body of work has long suggested: Davis operates well ahead of the curve.

Known for her fearless explorations across avant-garde, modern creative and chamber-music contexts, Davis also founded Pyroclastic Records to champion boundary-pushing artists working beyond easy categorization. Her latest release, The Solastalgia Suite, marks her first major composition for piano and string quartet. Commissioned by Poland’s Jazztopad Festival, the work premiered there before later appearing at Dizzy’s Club at Jazz at Lincoln Center. Its title borrows from philosopher Glenn Albrecht’s term describing the distress caused by environmental change experienced while still at home, and the eight-movement suite confronts that condition with unsparing resolve.

From the outset, Davis refuses to offer easy comfort, a signature stance that proves both bracing and necessary. The suite opens with “Interlude,” which drops listeners directly into the fray rather than offering a polite preamble. Taut string unisons merge with blunt, Bartók-like piano chords, establishing a somber and unsettled tone. The Lutosławski Quartet—Roksana Kwaśnikowska on first violin, Marcin Markowicz on second violin, Artur Rozmysłowicz on viola and Maciej Młodawski on cello—demonstrates remarkable versatility, shifting seamlessly between melodic focus and percussive propulsion. Against this, Davis favors widely spaced, almost reluctant piano figures that hang in the air like thoughts withheld until the last possible moment.

The emotional arc unfolds with careful, cumulative tension. “An Invitation to Disappear” offers one of the suite’s most openly lyrical passages, beginning with a solitary violin line that gradually invites its partner and eventually the full ensemble. The resulting beauty feels fragile rather than consoling, always shadowed by unease. Titles such as “Ghost Reefs,” “The Known End” and “Towards No Earthly Pole” gesture toward vanishing ecosystems and existential thresholds, themes echoed in music shaped by fraying motifs, suspended silences and abrasive climaxes that dissolve before reaching resolution.

Throughout the suite, the interplay feels orchestral yet intimate. At times, the strings threaten to overwhelm the piano, only for Davis to reassert her presence through stark, weighty gestures or finely etched abstractions. Momentum arises not from grand statements but from the way textures accumulate, fracture and reform, trusting small gestures and uneasy timbres to carry significant emotional weight. In an era defined by ecological solastalgia, this music listens closely to a world in flux and reports back without embellishment or false reassurance.

Davis has long established herself as a composer who expands jazz’s expressive horizons, and The Solastalgia Suite further secures that legacy. Ambitious, unsettling and ultimately vital, it stands as an unflinching sonic document of a shared predicament, one that lingers well after the final note fades.

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