Umberto Petrin
Particles

As a jazz musician and therefore an “insider” of this world—especially when it comes to Italy—I've always found it difficult to talk about the work of colleagues, friends, teachers. Surely, part of it is out of modesty, but also because criticism within Italian jazz always seems somewhat superfluous, an exercise in style, as if to say, “yeah, well, there are some nice things in Italy, but the truly great stuff, the real stuff, is made by others.” The others who, once upon a time, were the Americans, then the French, then the Germans, now the Scandinavians; in short, it almost seems like our turn never comes.

However, it’s about time we acknowledged that it has been our turn as well, for several decades now, and that beautiful, genuine, important things have been done in Italy for quite some time. Maybe all that’s needed is to give them the recognition they deserve.

The sense of modesty I feel in writing about this album has tripled, considering its author and performer is, for me, the perfect fusion of colleague, friend, and former teacher: Umberto Petrin, one of those Italian jazz musicians who, as a matter of fact, has been doing great things for many decades now. But in spite of my modesty, someone will have to speak about this album sooner or later.

Of his extensive production of solo piano works, this Particles is without doubt his most successful, most balanced, and richest album. There is truly space for everything here: there’s room, of course, for original compositions, for the inevitable Monk, for Cecil Taylor, even for a forgotten and wonderful Tom Waits tune (I’m Still Here), and finally for the great Stefano Benni, absolute genius of Italian narrative and poetry, who lends his voice and words in a truly original version of Monk’s Misterioso (the two, in those years, created together the theatrical play and DVD Misterioso, viaggio nel silenzio di Thelonious Monk, which I highly recommend).

Within this vast and varied imaginary world, Petrin always navigates with great determination, with deep respect toward the composers, yet always leaving his unmistakable signature. This certainly isn’t an easy or particularly accessible record—this is true “art music,” which requires a certain type of listening and connection; but when that connection is sought out and activated, Particles can truly transport the listener into a bubble, a musical space where no rules apply except those dictated by its performer. That’s a truly rare sensation, very hard to evoke, and it makes this album a true gem of contemporary Italian jazz.