Ingi Bjarni: Hope
Losen Records

It's fascinating to hear how dramatically a group's sound changes when a single personnel adjustment's made. While Icelandic pianist Ingi Bjarni tends to favour the piano trio format (last year's solid Fragile Magic a case in point), his latest reconfigures his sound when guitarist Hilmar Jensson makes Hope a quartet date. The move adjusts the balance significantly: in place of Bjarni shouldering the melodic load in the trio, the quartet distributes it more evenly between him and Jensson. Yet while the quartet configuration does make for an expanded timbral palette, the new recording retains the earmarks of Bjarni's earlier six albums in featuring elegant compositions executed with poise and taste. The album's issued on the Norwegian label Losen Records, but it wouldn't sound out of place on ECM.

A through-line of sorts runs from Fragile Magic to Hope when the Reykjavík-born pianist and drummer Magnús Trygvason Eliassen appear on both, but they're newly augmented by Jensson and double bassist Anders Jormin. Atmospheric, tasteful, and elegant, Bjarni's nine originals were composed with these specific players in mind. No one'll mistake the music as blistering free jazz; Hope instead favours a thoughtful, sometimes introspective style that lends itself well to balladry and small group interplay. Jensson's attack is indicative of the album: largely eschewing shredding and fury, he's a circumspect player who enhances the performances with textural shadings and atmospheric gestures—more Frisell than Sharrock, in other words. Just as he did on the 2024 trio set, Eliassen enlivens Hope with imaginative drumming and once again shows himself to be an effective complement to Bjarni.

If the music on Hope is generally reflective, there's a good reason: seven of the nine pieces were composed in 2021, the year the pianist's mother passed away. Yet while the experience of grieving informed his sensibility as the pieces were written, Hope, as its title implies, isn't despairing; in fact, the title originated from a poem his mother wrote that, translated from Icelandic, reads, “Is life always a gentle waltz, with a clear path and no troubles ahead? The winter of life may indeed be long and hard. But my dear friend, you can do better. With hope in your heart, you are capable of everything.” Bjarni honours her memory by infusing the music with optimism and resilience.

At the outset, the leader self-effacingly has Jormin introduce the evocative title composition with mournful bowing. Fleshing out the arrangement, the others delicately join him until the bassist retires the bow to pluck the resonant theme. Crystalline, tremolo-inflected gestures by Jensson and complementary playing by the leader and drummer add to the atmospheric quality of the explorative performance. After a strong solo statement by Jormin, Bjarni arrests with a probing one of his own dominated by chiming, bell-like chords and mounting intensity. Following that beautiful illustration of quartet expression, “Uplift” is introduced by Eliassen before its bright folk theme's delivered by the guitarist and bassist in unison. Aptly titled, “Chant” opts for sober brooding in its improvised piano intro before easing into its cantabile melodic framework. If “Eftir allt” exudes a stately quality, it might be explained, in part, by the fact that the pianist composed it at the historic Hólar Cathedral in Iceland during an artist's residency in the summer of 2021. The poetic ballad “Desember,” on the other hand, exudes a solemn, inward-looking tone in keeping with the melancholy many feel as a year's end approaches. Elsewhere, “Hægur dans” tickles the ear with rhythmic jazz-funk drive, Eliassen's invention, Jormin's aggressive pulse, and blues-tinged contributions from Jensson. Energy's high too in the closing “Escaped,” a robust track to offset the reflective tone of the penultimate setting “Desember.”

Every one of the nine settings boasts a strong and clearly defined melodic armature but is designed flexibly to allow the music to collectively breathe through the four players. Attentive listening between them enables the performances to blossom in real-time, with improvisations when they arise sounding focused rather than directionless. As earlier mentioned, the balance shifts radically when a trio becomes a quartet, but in this case it's even more dramatic when the music's fashioned to highlight all the players. Whereas the bassist might be relegated to a supporting role in another context, Jormin's featured as prominently here as the pianist and guitarist, and by his very nature Eliassen imposes himself forcefully on the music. As the leader and the composer, Bjarni's the one in charge, but Hope is a quartet statement in the truest sense.

February 2025