Andrew Hill
Point Of Departure

One day, while searching for a Blue Note record that wasn't "Out To Lunch"—which I already owned—I stumbled upon "Point Of Departure" on the internet; seeing the musicians, I thought it might be a compilation or something like that.

But no.

Kenny Dorham, Eric Dolphy, Joe Henderson, Richard Davis, and Anthony Williams had actually played together, guided by the creativity of pianist Andrew Hill. At this point, unwrapping the record I had purchased, I wondered: what happens when you put some of the greatest musicians who ever lived in the same recording studio and let them play?

The answer was clear after the first listen. This is THE album, it is PERFECTION.

In '64, Alfred Lion gave Hill the chance to choose from the best musicians at Blue Note and showcase the originality of his compositions. The pianist repaid this trust with five extraordinary tracks where instrumental voices intertwine, argue, and whisper to each other.

The first impression is striking. The edgy theme of "Refuge" is followed by Hill's abstractly lyrical solo with an unconventional sense of rhythm; then comes Dolphy, and a new page unfolds: his way of playing is thrilling, engaging. Dorham's solo follows—deeply inspired—and a moment of "tension" where the bass continues its frenetic run, leading up to Henderson’s moment, who shapes his music in an asymmetrical and abrasive way. Meanwhile, Williams is given absolute freedom.

The second piece is "New Monastery." This time the tempo is slightly more relaxed; Dorham is the first to speak, followed by Dolphy with his proverbial explosiveness, then Hill, Henderson, the theme again, and in a moment the piece flies by, making way for the intricate "Spectrum" which changes face after Hill's solo. The three winds create a dense musical web that dissolves with Henderson, who weaves through it and passes the baton to Davis. Then another transformation; now the piece has turned into a heavenly ballad with the magnificent alto sax monologue; it doesn't end here: the piano introduces the muted trumpet and the flutes of Henderson and Dolphy, Dorham whispers his music creating a perfect atmosphere to stir Williams' imagination, who literally makes the drums sing. By the return of the theme, one is convinced of the incredible creativity of Andrew Hill, amply documented in this suite.

"Flight 19" is, instead, a collective improvisation based on an unusual structure. Hill uses this piece to introduce the other masterpiece of the album: "Dedication." "Dedication" is a melancholic funeral march. From Dolphy's bass clarinet emerge unique notes, of intense expressiveness; Hill matches this by swiftly caressing the piano with weeping notes like those of Henderson's tenor sax, who demonstrates, when needed, a very sweet sound. This composition offers unique sensations; the album notes mention that Dorham had tears in his eyes after playing his part.

It's hard to convey with common language the jubilation of emotions this music provides.

I conclude with the recommendation to obtain this album, which, in my opinion, is a must-have in an ideal discography.