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Miki Yamanaka: Human Dust Suite It takes but a moment for the stylistic character of Miki Yamanaka's Human Dust Suite to assert itself when “Pre-School” positions itself firmly within a lithe, post-bop universe. The New York-based pianist and vibraphonist drew for inspiration for the opener from Lee Konitz, and truth be told there's a strong hint of the recently departed legend in Anthony Orji's smooth alto. The intricate tune could easily be mistaken for one by Lennie Tristano, which also finds Yamanaka branding the performance with a rousing, imposing solo. That extremely satisfying scene-setter paves the way for an equally satisfying collection that bookends the five-part title suite with six standalones, three on each side. A native of Kobe, Japan who's called New York home since 2012, Yamanaka holds residencies at the city's Smalls and Mezzrow clubs and plays piano in Philip Harper's, Roxy Coss's, and Antonio Hart's respective groups when not leading her own. Joining her on the date, recorded last January at a Brooklyn studio, are Orji, bassist Orlando le Fleming, and drummer Jochen Rueckert, the bassist the lone holdover from her 2018 debut album, Miki. Her expressive piano playing and elegant touch are all over “March,” a graceful tribute to Mulgrew Miller, whose playing profoundly affected Yamanaka. A subtle tinge of Jobim flavour then seeps into the sultry languor of “First Day of Spring,” the pianist tastefully laying back for thoughtful solos by le Fleming and Orji. Appearing after those three studies in contrast is the suite, whose title comes from a 1969 photograph by artist Agnes Denes depicting a small pyramid of human remains after cremation. Upon encountering the work at The Art Institute of Chicago, Yamanaka was struck by how issues of race, gender, worldly success, and so on all fall away when we die, and that, in the end, everyone's fate is the same. The epiphany inspired her to compose a work wherein each movement relates to a different part of the human anatomy. From the labyrinthine explorations of “Brain” and soothing, vibes-sweetened pulsations of “Tummy” to the seductively mellifluous “Feet Go Bad First” and rollicking “Party's Over,” the twenty-three-minute result constitutes a fine centrepiece. Elsewhere, Rueckert infuses the percolating impressionism of “After the Night” with a Latin-inflected attack and expansive drum solo, after which a delicious 5/4 treatment of Randy Weston's “Berkshire Blues” brings the recording to a buoyant close. Human Dust Suite doesn't push the envelope in any daringly experimental, future-thinking way but instead embraces its in-the-tradition post-bop sound with sincerity and humility. There's nevertheless much pleasure to be had when the quartet plays at such a consistently high level and the participants are so engaged and committed. Throughout this nearly hour-long release, Orji, with his nonabrasive, silky attack, proves himself a natural partner to the pianist, the two cozily cohabiting the front-line while le Fleming and Rueckert generate a breezy, ever-inventive backdrop.September 2020 |