textura

Kjetil Mulelid: Piano
Rune Grammofon

Having enjoyed his playing within the Norwegian group Wako and his own trio for a number of years now, my admiration for Kjetil Mulelid's playing has steadily grown. Hearing him perform solo, however, is like hearing him for the first time, and consequently Piano invites a renewed appreciation for his abilities. Throughout this exquisite recording, he demonstrates a remarkable command that makes one excited for what the future holds.

Like many a musician, the idea of a solo piano album grew on Mulelid when the pandemic hit and recording offered one of the few creative outlets available. With time at hand and other project plans tabled, he composed the bulk of the material during lockdown and then recorded the album over two days in June and September at Athletic Sound on the Halden studio's 1919 Bösendorfer grand piano. The detail's not incidental: a major part of the pleasure Piano affords comes from basking in the clear, expansive sound of the instrument.

Performing a set of eleven originals, Mulelid exemplifies considerable poise as both composer, performer, and improvisor. His gift for melody is apparent the moment “Beginning” introduces the album with a haunting figure that's then treated to a series of sensitively articulated variations. Exuding a graceful lilt, the music intensifies dramatically during some passages, retreats gently in others, with the pianist exercising masterful control of phrasing, dynamics, and tempo. Even more stirring is “Skjong,” whose character is derived from a descending figure that's extemporized upon with assurance.

A classical influence is audible in the refinement of the playing, but Mulelid's never restricted by the formally written aspects of a composition. There are moments when he moves inside the piano to augment the piece with added texture, but such treatments are never gratuitous. Where some settings are pensive, others are buoyant (“Dancers”) and romantic (“For You I'll Do Anything”). The ruminative quality of “Love Story” suggests the material is less about the joyous abandon of first encounters and more the myriad challenges a relationship undergoes as it works through its many stages. Capping the release memorably is “The Sun,” a particularly lovely and resonant evocation.

Hearing the confidence with which the album material's executed, one can't help but note the maturity shown by a pianist (twenty-nine at the time of its creation) still in the early years of his professional career. While it might be tempting to consider Mulelid's solo piano release in light of ones by Brad Mehldau and Keith Jarrett (drawing a connecting line to the latter, Mulelid sometimes vocalizes as he plays), Piano stands up splendidly on its own terms.

May 2021


	Kjetil Mulelid: Piano Rune Grammofon Having enjoyed his playing within the Norwegian group Wako and his own trio for a number of years now, my admiration for Kjetil Mulelid's playing has steadily grown. Hearing him perform solo, however, is like hearing him for the first time, and consequently Piano invites a renewed appreciation for his abilities. Throughout this exquisite recording, he demonstrates a remarkable command that makes one excited for what the future holds. Like many a musician, the idea of a solo piano album grew on Mulelid when the pandemic hit and recording offered one of the few creative outlets available. With time at hand and other project plans tabled, he composed the bulk of the material during lockdown and then recorded the album over two days in June and September at Athletic Sound on the Halden studio's 1919 Bösendorfer grand piano. The detail's not incidental: a major part of the pleasure Piano affords comes from basking in the clear, expansive sound of the instrument. Performing a set of eleven originals, Mulelid exemplifies considerable poise as both composer, performer, and improvisor. His gift for melody is apparent the moment “Beginning” introduces the album with a haunting figure that's then treated to a series of sensitively articulated variations. Exuding a graceful lilt, the music intensifies dramatically during some passages, retreats gently in others, with the pianist exercising masterful control of phrasing, dynamics, and tempo. Even more stirring is “Skjong,” whose character is derived from a descending figure that's extemporized upon with assurance. A classical influence is audible in the refinement of the playing, but Mulelid's never restricted by the formally written aspects of a composition. There are moments when he moves inside the piano to augment the piece with added texture, but such treatments are never gratuitous. Where some settings are pensive, others are buoyant (“Dancers”) and romantic (“For You I'll Do Anything”). The ruminative quality of “Love Story” suggests the material is less about the joyous abandon of first encounters and more the myriad challenges a relationship undergoes as it works through its many stages. Capping the release memorably is “The Sun,” a particularly lovely and resonant evocation. Hearing the confidence with which the album material's executed, one can't help but note the maturity shown by a pianist (twenty-nine at the time of its creation) still in the early years of his professional career. While it might be tempting to consider Mulelid's solo piano release in light of ones by Brad Mehldau and Keith Jarrett (drawing a connecting line to the latter, Mulelid sometimes vocalizes as he plays), Piano stands up splendidly on its own terms. May 2021