Keith Jarrett
The Carnegie Hall Concert

Not satisfied with many successes, epoch-making records, research, and tensions, paid for even at the expense of his health, Keith Jarrett continues to travel in the sound universe of solo piano. Thus, while his magical notes still resonate in the minds of those who, enchanted, were present at the evening at the "La Fenice" theater in Venice, a testimony preceding that event now arrives in stores.

It's a performance that took place at the prestigious Carnegie Hall in New York in September 2005. A substantial and intense concert documented by two CDs, where we find every typical element of his music. From sharp dissonances like his character, to magical inventions and lyrical developments, in which the notes seem to mysteriously arise from nowhere to verge on perfection.

The album, in some ways, seems ideally connected to the concerts in Tokyo and Osaka in 2002 (Radiance - ECM 2005) and can be divided into two moments. In the first, Jarrett performs through a long suite divided into ten musical sections, showcasing his ability to improvise on the piano with free and precious patterns capable of surprising by alternating contrasts. In the second, he performs some unforgettable classics from his repertoire, like the marvelous "My Song" recorded some decades ago with Jan Garbarek (ECM - 1978).

The beginning is a strangled sob with the swift and rough progress of the piano chords that digress from sharp notes to low ones. It is not an objectively easy listen and structurally recalls some passages, indeed, of "Radiance". Later, the vibrant flickers of his hands on the keyboard manage to give a sense of instinctive energy that flows under the skin, naturally accompanied by his typical background hisses. Then, suddenly come those heart-wrenching melodies that made him famous. Particularly in Part III, which in just over four minutes manages to condense notes that sway like a specter at dawn, ultimately invoking a cloud of applause from the enchanted audience. Conversely, in other passages of the concert (Part IV and Part VI), there is the impression that the rain of notes generated by the piano is apparently disordered. They evoke chaos, disorder, oppressive claustrophobia of bitter dissonances. Notes tangled, crumpled, yet as time passes, they find a complete sense. In short, the logical thread is there, but it is not seen, rather it is perceived.

Moreover, we traverse dark, gloomy, and restless passages that sometimes slowly evolve to reach a floating melancholic and ethereal finale (Part V); other times, they insist on rhythmic tension reconnecting to the classic styles of blues (Part IX). However, these kinds of atmospheres always have their surprising counterpoint, thereby breaking any possibility of monotony for the listener. Thus, on one side, there is a whirlwind of chords, in which different incursions of Jarrett into the world of the generically understood classical piano seem to surface (Part VI); on the other side, those natural inventions of his take clear form, which have that complex simplicity, skillfully combining melody with energy and intimacy now (Part X), now with the blues in a carefree crescendo (Part VII).

And then there is the usual ineffable magic represented this time by Part VIII. And here it becomes difficult to describe. I listen and struggle in search of words that become synonyms for changing sensations. That note suspended in solitary air... what is it? Here I am, then, chewing notes sweet as the night, grasping glimmers of genius, living gnawed emotions, swallowing breath, suddenly freeing it, seeing a dream evaporate, revealing an ivory secret, guarding another of ebony, disemboweling the darkness, forgetting everything... words in the wind, just useless words in the wind searching for a description that is not there, because this music is made of the same stuff as dreams: we don't know what it is, we can't know it, but we cannot do without it.

The conclusion of the concert is entrusted to five pieces, only one of which does not bear Jarrett's signature. It is "Time On My Hands" by Harold Adamson, Mack Gordon & Vincent Youmans, which, for its nocturnal, subdued, and dreamy elegance, could reconnect to the delicate atmospheres of "The Melody At The Night, With You" (ECM - 1999). Among the other tracks, besides the already mentioned "My Song", stands out the reassuring melodic beauty of "The Good America", adding another breath of unexpected beauty to an already splendid album.

A concert certainly indispensable for all those who love Keith Jarrett's musical poetry, but capable of breaking through even to the hearts of those who do not know him. To fall in love with it, you just have to listen, and perhaps that would have been enough to say.