Triio: Triio
Furniture Music Records

Every jazz recording individuates itself through the interactions of the musicians involved, and this eponymous release by Triio, a Toronto-based sextet led by double bassist Alex Fournier, is no exception. That's even more true when the material fashioned for the participants includes as much room for individual expression as does this one. The leader's fortunate that those appearing with him on the hour-long release—alto saxist/flutist Bea Labikova, trombonist Aidan Sibley, guitarist Tom Fleming, pianist Ashley Urquhart, and drummer Mark0—are capable of navigating the sometimes intricate pathways Fournier's written for them. The six settings demand much from the contributors, but they respond in kind, the result, recorded by the outfit over two days last September, a solid set of rigorously executed contemporary jazz thoughtfully balanced between free improv and through-composition.

Urquhart initiates the opener “ESD” with spirited free playing that gradually settles into a swinging, low-register pattern that cues the ensemble to dig in with a web of polyphonic expressions, trombone acting as countermelody to a unison sax-piano statement; in an adventurous piece that's indicative of the album's general approach, the drummer and alto saxist take freewheeling turns while filigrees of electronic sounds sparkle alongside them. Fournier introduces “Giant-Dad” with a slow, semi-walking line that lays the ground for a unison flute-trombone voicing punctuated by disruptive splashes of percussion and piano. The bluesy tune's as close to straight swing as Triio gets, even if Fleming nudges it towards an avant-garde zone with spidery figures. Dense polyphony and counterpoint are also the order of the day in “Fourhundred Dollars,” though the musicians are quick to leave the stability of the intro behind for less restricted territory. Aggressively animated by drums, the piece grows increasingly agitated, culminating in an extended series of upper-register sax squeals and a swelling electronic roar.

Interestingly sequenced, the album's first three pieces, all under ten minutes apiece, are warm-ups of sorts for the three longest, “Noisemaker” almost seventeen and the closing “Permanently Hiccups” slightly less. The former advances quickly from an opening thematic statement into a series of contrasting parts, from a relaxed solo Sibley delivers against a loosely swinging (if unusually metred) backdrop to a mysterious, nachtmusik-styled sequence of flute and bowed bass. Extended sequences of explorative improv emerge during these longer performances, the extra time affording the players an even greater opportunity to interact spontaneously. The penultimate “Dusk” settles things down with a moody, slow-motion study in small-group atmospherics and textures, Sibley and Labikova distinguishing themselves again with strong solos and electronic shudders bringing an eerie quality to the dirge.

Certainly one of things that marks this particular assemblage of players is balance. No one player dominates (even if the voices of Labikova and Sibley are prominent), each musician establishing a distinctive persona without overplaying or treading on others' toes. In many a setting, an individual player inaugurates the performance, others then materialize, a thematic statement's made, and freer exploration ensues. As the leader, Fournier's an authoritative presence throughout, a bassist as comfortable soloing as providing a connecting thread tying the various strands together; it's his assured playing in particular that keeps the music from losing definition during the improvs. Triio comes with endorsements from Michael Formanek, under whom Fournier studied performance and composition (his other teachers include Andrew Downing, Phil Nimmons, and Paul Johnson), and guitarist Mary Halvorson, whose observation that the album winds “through many worlds, while still keeping a thoughtful and grounded center” proves to be an accurate distillation of the recording's character.

July 2019