Stefano Travaglini: Monk
Notami Jazz

Much about Stefano Travaglini's Monk homage impresses. There's the inspired approach he adopted for the project, first of all. In Paris's Studio Sequenza on May 5th, 2019, the Italian pianist sat before a Concert Fazioli F278 and recorded fifteen improvisations on Monk originals, with none subsequently subjected to cuts or edits. Admittedly, Travaglini had spent months preparing for the session, but no arrangements were written out before the recording date. An even better thing about the performances is that no aping of Monk's playing style emerges, Travaglini instead concentrating on the composer rather than pianist. As a result, the album offers an hour-long take on the legend's songbook that's wholly original and contemporary. Those beloved melodies sound reborn in Travaglini's hands, especially when their originator's percussive attack is forgone for performances informed by classical training. And as Thomas Cunniffe contends in his liner notes, Travaglini's command of motivic development is another reason why these performances are compelling.

Monk's melodies have become so familiar, it's almost impossible not to hear echoes of his own renditions in the background, but they largely fade as Travaglini's versions develop and the listener's drawn into the new extemporizations. In some cases, the original's melody is central to the treatment, whereas in others it lurks in the shadows, its presence alluded to subtly. Regardless of the approach adopted, his transformations are fascinating.

The opening “Trinkle Tinkle” captures the kind of radical reinventions Travaglini presents on the release. Dazzling clusters form a dense backdrop to an oblique treatment of the thematic material, the result light years removed from conventional Monk terrain. “Well, You Needn't” is rendered as prismatically, the pianist in this instance glancing sideways at the original's melody and otherwise pursuing elaborate variations. By comparison, the sing-song figures in “Children's Song” place themselves front and centre, though the interpretation thereafter individuates itself by the lyrical classicism of Travaglini's playing. In such cases, the versions appear to have as much in common with twentieth-century classical music as anything jazz-related.

Each piece casts Monk's music in a new light. A subtle allusion to stride surfaces in the impish, bass-line counterpoint the pianist brings to “Ruby, My Dear.” A Debussy-esque quality emerges in a flowing, quasi-Impressionistic handling of “Criss-Cross,” a move that transforms the original into a spiderweb-like reverie. “Introspection” presents a suitably inward-looking meditation whose shadowy corners are revealed through Travaglini's re-harmonization. In coupling elegant thematic statements with detours into darker chromatic territory, his handling of “Ugly Beauty” enacts a literal realization of its oxymoronic title. However familiar “Round Midnight” has become, Travaglini wipes away the dust to re-present it as an elegant chamber piece perfectly tailored for the classical concert hall. Whereas some tunes are executed at a ruminative tempo, “Straight, No Chaser” takes flight instantly, buoyed as it is by a high-velocity ostinato.

These reinventions startle—in the best way. Rather than replicating Monk's idiosyncratic execution, the Italian pianist achieves memorable results in imposing his own personality on the music. In doing so, he does Monk the greatest possible service in showing how effectively his material holds up to any number of possible interpretative approaches, including Travaglini's. It's significant that the album's full title is Monk—Fifteen Piano Reflections, the latter key in accentuating the critical part the interpreter plays in the project.

May 2020