The first Suite comes 
                into direct competition with Bolling’s 
                own performance with Jean-Pierre Rampal, 
                the work’s dedicatee, on Sony. This 
                fusion of baroque and jazz influences 
                works well for a quartet, though Bolling’s 
                nomenclature seems to imply – or am 
                I reading too much into it – an aesthetic 
                divergence between the flute and the 
                accompanying trio. Indeed the flute 
                is very much primus inter pares as it 
                leads effortlessly from baroque procedure 
                to jazz inflection. The trio is more 
                explicitly rooted in jazz mechanisms, 
                with the piano writing following a vaguely 
                Teddy Wilson-Earl Hines axis with more 
                modern styling as well. In the delightful 
                Sentimentale second movement I was reminded 
                of the transmutation that the British 
                jazz pianist Fred Hunt used to do so 
                evocatively with the Alex Welsh band 
                in which he switched from roistering 
                boogie to impressionist delicacy in 
                a trice. Sounds bald on paper, sounds 
                magical to hear. There’s a witty fugue 
                in the fourth movement with block chording 
                piano and brushes on the drums and mildly 
                questioning leaps for the flute in the 
                sixth movement. The finale marked Véloce 
                sounds to these old ears like a paraphrase 
                of Sweet Georgia Brown. No, forget the 
                sounds like, it is a paraphrase 
                of Sweet Georgia Brown. 
              
 
              
The Second Trio is 
                a more compact affair, three movements 
                only and twenty-three minutes in length. 
                There’s Gallic grace in the opener, 
                though with a heavier backbeat, and 
                a long and fine cadenza for the flautist, 
                the splendid Giovanni Roselli. There 
                are hints in the piano writing of ragtime, 
                of which Bolling has long been so notable 
                an exponent though these are tinged 
                with his swing-bop excursions (if a 
                man wants to cover stylistic ground 
                he might as well do it as deftly as 
                Bolling does it here). The slow movement 
                is gentle and songful and the finale 
                ("Jazzy") is whimsical, funny 
                and frolicsome. 
              
 
              
This is an entertaining 
                addition to Naxos’ Light Classics line, 
                with excellent recorded sound and first-rate 
                performances. 
              
 
              
Jonathan Woolf 
                
              
Colin Touchin 
                has also listened to this recording
              
Once whilst a student 
                teacher I had a big argument with my 
                mentor - he complained that Jacques 
                Loussier's recordings were neither good 
                Bach nor good jazz. I countered that 
                it was something new, true to itself, 
                and worthy to be argued on its own merits, 
                and I rather liked it. He didn't! and 
                was very forceful in his rebuttal of 
                my claims for the style's validity, 
                not to say irate. I was reminded of 
                this exchange and my defence of hybrid 
                or crossover styles whilst listening 
                to this disc of Claude Bolling's epic 
                suites for Flute and Jazz Piano Trio, 
                because I really wanted to like the 
                music, but can't sympathise as easily 
                with this as with the Loussier. The 
                First Suite was written for the great 
                Rampal and, the sleeve-note informs, 
                performed by him and Bolling in Carnegie 
                Hall in 1975 to ecstatic acclaim. Their 
                recording was for 530 weeks in the US 
                popular charts (464 at no. 1). 
              
 
              
What's good: the recording 
                quality is excellent, the sleeve-notes 
                are helpful in placing these creations 
                in historical context, (and also point 
                out that almost all flute students at 
                the world's conservatoires study these 
                works), the performers are exceptionally 
                accomplished, accurate, precise and 
                neatly together always. The music is 
                full of varied models from the baroque 
                - in dance forms, counterpoint, decorations, 
                etc. There are many different jazz pulses 
                and rhythms at work, sometimes side 
                by side, but always clearly laid out. 
              
 
              
Roselli's tone is fluid, 
                warm, rich, extremely well focussed 
                in the extremes of register and dynamic 
                and beautifully consistent across the 
                full gamut; the piano playing is equally 
                refined and consistent in touch and 
                rhythm. The bass (one player for each 
                suite) is played with aplomb and discretion 
                (though I'd like to hear more of their 
                part - quite distant on some tracks), 
                and the drummer is an admirable support, 
                with superb brushes work in particular. 
                This lifts some of the sections above 
                the high standard of performance. The 
                sixth track, Versatile, of the First 
                Suite features some particularly fine 
                bass flute playing. The First Suite 
                contains seven movements including Javanaise 
                and Irlandaise indicating the range 
                of models called on to create the varied 
                pattern sans textures of the whole 35-minute 
                piece. 
              
 
              
I have heard live performances 
                of these pieces which moved me more, 
                excited my listening, and intrigued 
                my appreciation of the success with 
                which the composer blends baroque, Faure, 
                Duruflé, and more, and several 
                varieties of jazz style side by side. 
                So why do I find this disc unconvincing? 
                Perhaps because the performers are so 
                precise, so careful to be accurate on 
                rhythmic units, so exact in copying 
                each other's inflexions and phrasings, 
                that there is a dearth of spontaneity 
                and creativity. We are listening to 
                recreations of someone's written notation, 
                rather than individuals alert and alive 
                to each other and to the potential within 
                the notes. Perhaps this clinical precision 
                is an acceptable and inevitable statement 
                of our times. However, without flexibility 
                and risk-taking, the raison d'etre - 
                the blending of two (or more) historically 
                disparate styles so something new arises 
                and each element seems essential to 
                this new style and retains authenticity 
                - is mostly absent. 
              
 
              
On the compositional 
                level, retaining the key and formal 
                structures more familiar to older music 
                is a hampering device to the freer-ranging 
                jazz modulations: this may be deliberately 
                or coincidentally to retain the listener's 
                involvement, i.e. not to frighten off 
                the non-jazz listener and perhaps beguile 
                him into taking on board something new 
                to him but after all not as frightening 
                or decadent as at first thought. If 
                so, this is an unfortunate compromise. 
                Real jazz doesn't inhabit these forms 
                and stick to these balanced key structures 
                in this way (other balances operate). 
                So this is a case of neither real jazz 
                nor real baroque. 
              
 
              
The Second Suite is 
                more naturally jazzy and freer of the 
                baroque constraints, yet the alternative 
                in terms of section and melodic extension 
                is the use of longer sequences requiring 
                more decorative variation, rather than 
                genuine development. Here, the first 
                movement, the longest in the pieces 
                at almost ten minutes, brings out, in 
                the latter pages, some genuine exuberance 
                and spontaneously generated and directed 
                sparkle in the rhythmic vitality and 
                energy. And, yes, the musicians do occasionally 
                not coincide perfectly on every note! 
                The slow movement of three is the film-theme-like 
                Amoureuse, a finely-spun aria. The last 
                movement, entitled Jazzy, is the most 
                successful on the disc for the freedom 
                of the playing, and the original notes 
                provide the most successful combination 
                of different jazz rhythms and effective 
                syncopations and tempo changes. From 
                this, it is possible to argue that the 
                disc moves progressively from strict 
                baroque to free jazz. This is a worthy 
                feature, whether planned or naturally 
                inevitable in these two works. 
              
 
              
I am hugely impressed 
                by the fluency and control of the players 
                and in particular the outstanding flautist 
                and pianist, who ensure every note is 
                clearly played and cleanly projected 
                - at all dynamic levels and whatever 
                the rhythmic intricacy. But it's a little 
                like seeing a cross between the front 
                end of a camel, say, with the rear end 
                of a lion - the colour's the same, but 
                nature just didn't intend it to happen. 
                So why do I still like and would I still 
                defend Loussier? He was inventing as 
                he was playing, using a Bach original 
                as a starting point, acknowledging its 
                essence and respecting it, yet simply 
                saying this is my springboard and off 
                I go on my imaginative wing. Bolling 
                provided great tracks with Ellington 
                and Armstrong and for many films, but 
                this hybrid is too formulaic for the 
                free spirit of creative imagination 
                to take wing. I have no doubt it would 
                be different were he playing in the 
                ensemble to provide his own creative 
                urge to the ensemble's invention. 
              
 
              
If you want a finely 
                attentive, precisely accurate performance 
                of these pieces, I can't imagine them 
                being more carefully and lovingly recreated; 
                if you like to hear musicians on the 
                edge risking themselves and surprising 
                their listeners, this will leave you 
                short-changed. 
              
Colin Touchin