1. Lunfardo 
          2. Muerte del Angel 
          3. Resurrección del Angel 
          4. Tristeza de un Doble A 
          5. Adiós Nonino 
          6. Chin Chin 
          7. Otoño Porteño 
            
          Astor Piazzolla – Bandoneón 
          Pablo Ziegler – Piano 
          Fernando Suárez Paz – Violin 
          Oscar López Ruiz – Electric guitar 
          
          Héctor Console – Double bass  
        
A few days ago I reviewed 
          the Sydney Symphony Orchestra's Kaleidoscope 
          performance, subtitled "Latin American 
          Nights" and including Piazzolla's Concerto 
          for Orchestra and Bandoneón. I felt 
          drawn in that review to refer to the performance 
          of the Latin genre as 'ferocious' and when 
          considering this particular review, I again 
          find myself back there, not only for its self-reflexive 
          sound (Say it out loud. Ferocious - 
          it sounds like the wind roaring!) but for 
          the way that it indicates not only a constant 
          passion, but also a biting impact. The same 
          passion an actor draws upon when shouting 
          'Mambo' in Bernstein's West Side Story. 
          The passion of bebop in a club, cranked to 
          a level where the beginnings of the notes 
          burn a little. Piazzolla's music hits you 
          hard, no matter which way you look at it. 
          This is one of the many reasons he is affectionately 
          referred to as The Great Astor in his 
          home country. He is the heart of the new tango, 
          especially from an outside/European perspective.  
        
To be slightly unorthodox, 
          I would like to start with the penultimate 
          piece, Chin Chin, and then move to 
          the piece right before that, Adios Nonino. 
          The reason behind this is because they are 
          the standout performances on this album. Not 
          purely for technical reasons, but because 
          of the way they encapsulate both the elements 
          of live improvised jazz and the tango traditions 
          Piazzolla comes from. The other tracks may 
          be perhaps seen as supporting members of a 
          cast of free-roaming beasts.  
        
Chin Chin illustrates 
          the idea of ferocity, especially in a small 
          ensemble sense, showing that it is not sheer 
          polyphony which draws me towards this adjective, 
          but that it is, instead, the nature of the 
          piece itself and how it fits into the genre. 
          The performance begins with a few bars of 
          the fragmentary bandoneón melody before 
          being joined by sporadic percussion, piano 
          glissandos, incensed electric guitar and atonal 
          violin slides. It plays itself out in true 
          jazz form, with the instruments given space 
          to solo amongst the seemingly haphazard accompaniment 
          and then brought back into the recapitulating 
          head. The ferocious nature of the piece that 
          I refer to is best reflected in the open piano 
          solo which drifts further and further away 
          from the ensemble, growing in intensity and 
          beautiful chaos. Pablo Ziegler’s performance 
          is inspiring and obviously inspired, his inventions 
          never seem old or retired, constantly shifting 
          and thickening into an intimidating cacophony. 
          Then suddenly, with ease, he brings back the 
          tango rhythms, precise and full of intention 
          to round out the piece. Piazzolla’s greatest 
          strength in this piece is his ability to showcase 
          another musician. The melody begins with a 
          bandoneón focus and grows from that, 
          but the chaos draws us towards the piano. 
          A brilliant performance and a nice departure 
          from the traditional quintet showcase.  
        
Adios Nonino is partly 
          well known for the history behind its composition. 
          The story goes that Piazzolla heard of his 
          father's passing and retreated to his room 
          in silence. After half an hour, from within 
          the room came the melancholy melody which 
          Adios Nonino begins with. But do not 
          mistake this story for one that leads to a 
          simple or pure nostalgia. This performance 
          in particular begins with an open piano solo 
          by Ziegler, which at times verges on the melancholy, 
          but it is far from simple. Rather, it draws 
          upon Piazzolla's melody, adding beautiful 
          and grandiose ornamentation. After almost 
          two and a half minutes, Piazzolla enters on 
          the bandoneón playing the opening line 
          to the melody, cleverly composed to finish 
          unresolved. As he holds the final note, the 
          suspense builds, holding steady and waiting 
          for the resolution. But where melancholy would 
          ordinarily take over to pour out the grief 
          Piazzolla must've felt after his father died, 
          the strings enter: heavy and raucous. A heavy 
          calculated stumbling that drives forward only 
          to hit you with yet another melancholy melody, 
          this time on solo violin. Perhaps this is 
          truly what Piazzolla wanted to hint at with 
          Adios Nonino, the manic nature of mourning 
          and the abrupt coming of death. But the melancholy 
          violin is not alone for long; it finds a communal 
          longing with the bandoneón. This solo 
          section is heart-wrenching; the shrill violin 
          draws you into a brittle grief that swirls 
          and lifts, uncertain but unmistakably emotionally 
          driven.  
        
The rest of this recording 
          contributes to a collection of Piazzolla’s 
          better known pieces, including Muerte del 
          Angel and Resurrección del Angel. 
          These two pieces act as a nod towards a more 
          traditional arrangement, most probably because 
          of the nature of their composition, as part 
          of Piazzolla’s ‘Angel Suite.’ Muerte del 
          Angel (Death of the Angel) takes on the 
          sound of a traditional tango and the heavy 
          rhythmic motifs that are associated with the 
          genre, while Resurrecion del Angel 
          (Resurrection of the Angel) allows for yet 
          another solo exploration, this time by Fernando 
          Suarez Paz on violin. Also, this is possibly 
          one of the few pieces on the album that explores 
          the smooth chordal possibilities of the bandoneón.  
        
This performance recording 
          is a wonderful introduction to the work of 
          Astor Piazzolla and the nuevo tango. 
          The recording itself is of an extremely high 
          quality, retains the atmosphere of a live 
          performance and the dynamic nuances that such 
          a situation brings forth. Not only was Piazzolla 
          in fine form, his quintet exceeds all expectations; 
          they are rhythmically and stylistically ‘in 
          tune’ with the genre and Piazzolla’s composition 
          from beginning to end. Live at the Montreal 
          Jazz Festival is a wonderful addition 
          to the record collection of both jazz and 
          classical fans.  
        
Sam Webster