Ingi Bjarni Trio: Fragile Magic
Ingi Bjarni Skúlason

The last two albums by Icelandic pianist Ingi Bjarni Skúlason were quintet (Farfuglar, 2023) and solo piano (Lessons, 2021) releases, and quartet and duo sets are currently being readied for future release. His sixth and latest, Fragile Magic, sees him returning to the piano trio format, one he delved into with 2018's Fundur and three years before that Skarkali. It's a format to which he and his bandmates, double bassist Bárður Reinert Poulsen and drummer Magnús Trygvason Eliassen, seem particularly well-suited, if the nine performances on the set are taken as representative of Skúlason's playing in a trio context. That the Ingi Bjarni Trio was nominated in 2018 for jazz performer of the year at the Icelandic Music Awards also testifies to the strong impression the group has made. (Two years later the 2019 quintet recording Tenging received five nominations, and Skúlason was awarded most promising Icelandic jazz artist.)

In certain respects, the trio's sound aligns itself comfortably to the Nordic jazz tradition, in the group's contemplative and spacious sides especially and in its inclusion of folk elements. But its attack is also very much emblematic of the jazz piano trio genre in general. The kind of empathetic dialogue enacted between the players perpetuates the approach Bill Evans developed in his own trios; in Skúlason's too the focus is less on a lead soloist receiving rhythmic support from his partners but instead a fluid, three-way conversation between equals—even if the pianist naturally carries the melodic load. Though one suspects that the leader is largely responsible for the writing, it's telling that the compositions and arrangements are credited to the trio, not Skúlason alone.

Recorded in October 2022 at Sundlaugin Studio in Iceland, the forty-six-minute recording sounds beautiful, with the instruments captured with clarity and the separation between them distinct. That's apparent the moment “Impulsive” opens the release with a prototypical example of responsive trio interplay. Words such as patience, deliberation, and thoughtfulness come to mind as the three ride the music's urgent wave and bring forth the darker hues of the composition. There's poetry as well as drama and even more in the title track that follows. An ominous theme and funereal tempo intensify its mysterious tone as Poulsen bows his solo and the leader sensitively drapes minimal phrases across a gradually intensifying backdrop.

With high-pitched, saw-like bowing by the bassist resembling a soft cry, “Visan” initially accentuates the trio's penchant for melancholy before an abrupt transition into a funkier attack reveals another dimension. “Úti á götu” likewise catches the ear for spotlighting the trio's improv side and the authority with which the three engage in this at times eruptive free expression. Perhaps the biggest surprise involves hearing the trio tear into a high-velocity rock groove during “Introduction”; the pensive, lyrical closer “Einn, tveir, þrír,” by comparison, is more indicative of the understatement the trio favours on the recording.

While the sophistication of Skúlason's voicings comes to him naturally, the Master's degree in composition and Bachelor's degree in Jazz Performance he earned from the University of Gothenburg and at Den Haag, The Netherlands, respectively, clearly played a significant part in the style he's developed too. Attentive listening between the participants is evident throughout, no matter the differences in tone from one piece to the next; improvisation is likewise present yet never spirals out of control. It goes without saying that the chemistry between the three—their “fragile magic,” as it were—is in abundant supply too.

April 2024