Gabriele Di Franco: The Value Of Choices

Large-ensemble jazz is often called cinematic simply because it has plenty of colour and volume. On The Value Of Choices (Challenge Records, 2026), the word fits for a better reason. Here, the music keeps changing depending on where the listener stands. Across eight compositions, Italian-born, Brussels-based composer, guitarist and conductor Gabriele di Franco keeps every section in play for long. Brass and reeds may fill the foreground. In the next phrase, the ear settles on a voice, a piano figure or a low brass line. Big-band and chamber-like sounds coexist throughout the album, giving it a contemporary European aesthetic. The project is ambitious, but the writing remains precise, and the ensemble handles its changes of colour and density with equal control. In the vocal pieces, the lyrics introduce characters and carry part of the narrative. Di Franco also links decisions made in orchestration to those made in life. The thought is clearer in the score than in the accompanying texts, which occasionally make the point too bluntly. In "The Fly," François Vaiana's baritone turns the dreaming insect into a vivid presence before brass and reeds gather around him. Tenor saxophone and drums begin to pull at the written form, and when collective improvisation takes over, the fable continues without words. "Betsabea," inspired by an ancient Sardinian Tibi chant, approaches the story of King David through Bathsheba's eyes. Trumpet and piano come forward from within the piece rather than arriving as obligatory solo spots.

On "Bloemen," Vanesa Diaz Gil's alto sits close to double bass and trombone, and the quiet around them matters as much as the notes. The title track has a nervier edge, with Lieselot De Wilde singing of doubt and a saxophone answering the soprano. "Another Loss" begins with piano and guitar at the centre, while the other instruments join sparingly. Martin Gasser's saxophone solo is lyrical and unhurried. Afterwards, the flugelhorn picks up the melody as the ensemble returns, broadening the sound without crowding it. The printed line, "Unheard cries fall among wind and dust like bombs," presses the image harder than the playing does. By then, the ear needs no explanation.

"Slak" begins slowly before opening into collective improvisation. "Blues in F" has more bite, with Federico Pecoraro's electric bass giving the rhythm section a firmer pull. The joke behind the title, a blues that would like to be in F, also lightens the album's otherwise serious enough tone. Most of the pieces are set at similar tempos. This gives the album a coherent character, although the complete sequence can begin to feel too even. The stronger contrasts come from dynamics, register, and changes in instrumental density. "Inspira" closes with a succession of solos, bringing individual players back into focus. Maria Schneider comes to mind in the patient layering of instrumental colour. Elsewhere, collective improvisation and the smaller instrumental groupings pull the music away from a conventional big-band model. On The Value Of Choices, Di Franco's sense of proportion allows a single instrumental line to carry as much expressive weight as the full ensemble.