Would you like to savor the magic and evocative power of solo piano, avoiding both mawkishness and cold mental lucubrations equally? Are you apprehensive about approaching the "sacred monster" Keith Jarrett, but at the same time feel ready for something more complex and profound (let's face it: a bit less banal) than Allevi and Einaudi? Not only is there a solution, but we have it right here at home, and her name is Rita Marcotulli.

The Roman pianist is unjustly little known, despite boasting a considerable number of collaborations in both jazz and pop music: Palle Daniellson, Peter Erskine, Dewey Redman, Enrico Rava, Andy Sheppard, Michel Petrucciani, Pat Metheny, Pino Daniele, Noa. A reserved yet sunny musician, with an uncommon humanity and generosity in live performances, she has developed over the years her own very personal synthesis between jazz and "other" music, resulting in the previous "Koinè" (excellently reviewed on debaser) and this "The Light Side Of The Moon," which moves along the same lines, but in complete solitude.

Solo piano, yet atypical, due to the variety and richness of the themes tackled, and the timid ventures into particular techniques: in the piece "Conversation With The Moon" Marcotulli "plays" the sculptures of artist Pinuccio Sciola...

The opening theme, "Waves And Wind" is perhaps the one with the greatest descriptive charge. Very well written and conceived, it's a seductive tide that envelops and carries along, embellished with delicate arpeggios that the pianist plays directly on the piano strings.

The recording and post-production techniques, entrusted to her husband Pasquale Minieri, are of no small importance, as demonstrated by the reinterpretation of the immortal "Us And Them" by Pink Floyd (a piece the pianist often performs live in duo with saxophonist Andy Sheppard): ethereal and almost metaphysical, slightly retouched in the studio by adding evocative reverbs, and suggesting the album title: it truly feels like being on the "light side of the moon."

Marcotulli then makes a beautiful display of one of her specialties, particularly suggestive in live concerts: the prepared piano. Simply, she places a necklace on the piano strings, altering their timbre, adding mysterious metallic resonances, sometimes reminiscent of the sitar, sometimes the Kora. In a piece with a strong ethnic flavor like "Koinè" the effect is almost psychedelic, and not easily forgotten.

Jazz, while being a component on the same level as many others, is well represented, as demonstrated by the beautiful pages of "Misteriosa", "Imaginary Rainbow", and the almost Monk-like "Tuareg".

The album closes with "Elettra's Magic Stick", a touching lullaby dedicated to her daughter Elettra and sung softly. It proves that you can speak directly to the heart without becoming unbearably sugary...

It may not be an album that writes an unforgettable page in music history, but you will listen to it a lot, guaranteed.

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