The Space Above:
The Space Above
The Space Above
The press text accompanying The Space Above's self-titled debut release pitches the recording as inhabiting “an undeniably unique musical space.” That's a bold claim, but it's supported by the music on this accomplished collection. A key reason why the Copenhagen acoustic chamber trio sounds so different from others has to do with instrumentation plus the shared sensibility of pianist Artur Tuznik, flutist Flavia Huarachi, and drummer Simon Olderskog Albertsen. Add to that a stylistic palette that encompasses jazz, classical, improv, and folk, and you've got a group sound that can't help but be distinctive.
Perhaps the greatest thing, however, about the outfit has to do with approach. Rather than function as a straightforward anchor for his free-flying partners, Albertsen adopts a wholly colouristic approach. Naturally Tuznik and Huarachi carry the melodic weight, but with Albertsen in a more percussive role, the three become equally responsible for the trio's identity. Though much of the music is credited to the pianist—the boldly explorative improv “Tales of Shamans” plus treatments of material by J. S. Bach (1685-1750) and Guillaume de Machaut (1300-77) are the only non-Tuznik pieces—the album plays like a collaborative effort in the truest sense, especially when the live-recorded performances are marked by spontaneity characteristic of jazz.
The members' backgrounds are also critical to the music created. The Bolivian Huarachi possesses classical training and orchestra experience, the Polish Tuznik is a well-known figure in the European jazz scene, and the Norwegian Albertsen adds distinguished playing to the contemporary jazz outfits WAKO and Espen Berg Trio. A graceful interpretation of “Aria” from The Goldberg Variations introduces the group's sound. Tuznik and Huarachi voice the familiar melodies in unison, leaving Albertsen to punctuate their expressions with a considered swirl of cymbal textures and brushed drums. Mystery and solemnity permeate the trio's rendering of “Puis qu'en oubli” (Since I am forgotten) by French composer Machaut, especially when glassy sonorities (bowed cymbals by Albertsen, perhaps) accompany the brooding expressions by the flutist and pianist.
Tuznik favours suites, as indicated by the presence of The Spring Suite and The Space Above Suite, each three-part conceptions. The playing's freer here, though again it's not uncommon for the flutist and pianist to unite for melodic statements, which in turn frees the drummer to liberally sprinkle the performance with impressionistic colourations and eruptive punctuations, depending on the rise and fall of the music.
All three typically play as a unit, though there are moments where a brief solo episode arises. Tuznik introduces “Spring,” for example, alone before the others join him to elaborate on its ponderous theme and support the ebullient piano solo that follows. After the near-tumult of the central movement, “After the Spring” brings the suite to a poetic, ruminative close. The oft-haunting second suite points the playing in a slightly more classical direction without losing the essence of the trio's sound. The writing is also slightly more through-composed, though the three nevertheless still manage to weave spontaneity into the performance. More than any other, the word fresh comes to mind as the trio's debut album plays. Innovative music of the kind featured here certainly deserves to be supported.August 2021