Matthew Shipp
One

There exists a group of pianist-composers who have much in common, beyond their jazz roots. Thelonious Monk, Herbie Nichols, Andrew Hill, Elmo Hope... Each of them has given voice to their own world, a world often impenetrable to their contemporaries, made of contrasts, edges, sandpaper, shards of notes, but also of great lyricism. What characterizes their writing is rhythmic virtuosity and the great originality of the pieces. Oblique and serpentine phrasing instead of linear, extensive use of dissonance, the use of an unorthodox piano technique; for example, consider Monk, who played with almost straight fingers instead of bent (with all that entails: an inimitable sound and style, and the presence of "extra" notes!). Their lives were marked by a certain amount of misfortune, a more or less involuntary withdrawal into themselves, a lack of critical and public success (or that which arrived very late, as in Monk's case), and therefore economic success. Only among their fellow musicians could these free spirits enjoy at least some esteem and respect, if not affection and understanding.

If today, fortunately, part of the music critique has learned the lesson that originality is an asset, and certainly not a flaw, the ignorance of the general public is unfortunately even more widespread, although it is being enriched by small niches of enthusiasts, happy oases that allow the survival of some recording and concert realities in need of support. This reality includes the small label "Thirsty Ear" (literally: thirsty ear, it says a lot) and the pianist-composer Matthew Shipp, who rightfully joins the group of musicians mentioned earlier for originality, musical affinity, and artistic maturity.

This beautiful "One", piano solo from 2005, contains 12 original compositions, with a duration of 40'. The leitmotif of the album is the universe, unity (one), space seen as matter and electromagnetic waves. The music begins, mysterious, unsettling. It feels like being in total darkness, until the appearance of strange luminous phenomena, inexplicable. Galaxies, nebulas, supernovae, black holes pass before our eyes... the universe reveals itself in its spectacular and violent nature, it is tremendous and wonderful at the same time; it instills fear, it's daunting. The entire album seems like the perfect soundtrack for the depiction of extraterrestrial, almost science fiction images. There are moments of total improvisation that give the idea of traveling at the speed of light, and passages with a free jazz flavor that seem to deconstruct the perspective from the infinitely large to the infinitely small, our spacecraft reduced to one of the electrons of a uranium atom. The seventh piece is a near-blues evocative and mysterious in its sounds and title: "The Encounter", the encounter (of the third kind?); "Gamma Ray" is a tense and obsessive piece, very syncopated, "Abyss Code" is massive and dark, "Patmos" is melodically insidious and insinuating, like "Module" which evokes subterfuge, a terrible secret to hide. After just a couple of listens, it is easy to get in tune with this strange music, abstract and melodic at the same time, full of sudden sparks and reflective pauses.

If then you happen to come across his solo concert nearby, RUN! I saw him play for free at the Ciampino Jazz Festival, in a small auditorium set up inside a middle school, and he played brilliantly for almost two hours. He also brought out a version of "Summertime" that I would describe as evil, a full 25'... spine-chilling, he seemed like Count Dracula at the piano!