This is a fantastic surprise. Every year, it seems a 
                  piano recital of unusual material curated by the performer drifts 
                  into my shortlist for Recording of the Year, and Jocelyn Swigger’s 
                  Rhythms & Blues is no doubt the 2011 contender. Her 
                  lineup is a great deal of fun, and essential for lovers of contemporary 
                  piano music too: we range from short explorations of American 
                  folk rhythm by the great Samuel Barber to a series of living 
                  composers - Amy Rubin, Martin Scherzinger, John Adams, William 
                  Bolcom and four improvisations by Swigger herself. 
                    
                  The program’s theme, if it has one, is America as musical 
                  melting pot; we have here much that is jazzy and much that is 
                  altogether new. Amy Rubin’s American Progressions 
                  brings together blues tunes, agbadza drumming patterns 
                  from Ghana (in the stunning “Grace” movement), and 
                  a page in the last movement notated only with chord progressions 
                  and demanding the pianist improvise. South African Martin Scherzinger, 
                  now resident in New York, contributes a four-movement sonata, 
                  When One Has the Feet of Wind, in a single ten-minute 
                  arc, impressively built, with moments (like around 3:15) which 
                  do seem to take flight. Just as the sonata reaches perilously 
                  “easy-listening” territory near the end, it begins 
                  to speak a fascinating new language. The first three movements 
                  use only white keys; the finale introduces black keys and thrillingly 
                  colorful dissonances. 
                    
                  Book-ending these works are two by more established composers: 
                  Samuel Barber’s wartime Excursions, and John Adams’ 
                  China Gates. Barber explains his work as excursions “into 
                  regional American idioms,” and we do indeed get boogie 
                  and blues filtered through the sophisticated harmonies of Barber’s 
                  classical language. Although the score is carefully notated 
                  to mimic improvisation, you would never know it; Swigger excels 
                  here in making the carefully planned phrasing really work, 
                  really sound not like fake improv but the real thing. In China 
                  Gates, Adams’ repeated cells of material take on a 
                  wonderfully mystical quality; it’s surely one of the most 
                  instantly attractive of minimalist works, and Swigger projects 
                  it beautifully. 
                    
                  There are some good old-fashioned jazz numbers, too. William 
                  Bolcom contributes four rags, a suite called The Garden of 
                  Eden. “Old Adam” is a particularly glorious 
                  example of the ragtime art. “The Serpent’s Kiss” 
                  is indeed a devilish number, and among its array of ideas (one 
                  senses the serpent using every last trick in its book to seduce 
                  the hapless couple) are calls for finger-clacking, tongue-clicking, 
                  and whistling. Jocelyn Swigger is, I have to say, a tongue-clicking 
                  virtuoso. Jelly Roll Morton’s “Finger Buster” 
                  is an even more devilish jazz number - for the pianists getting 
                  their fingers busted, anyway. 
                    
                  The collection ends with its most daring conclusion of all: 
                  four tracks of Swigger herself improvising at the end of the 
                  recording sessions. The first improvisation gets off to an unpromising 
                  start, with a series of repeated notes that smack of trying 
                  to decide what to do next, but it takes off as a sort of upside-down 
                  rag: the left hand is there, in the grand old tradition we’ve 
                  heard earlier, but the right hand won’t go down without 
                  a fight, and plays dissonant, angular lines. A similar story 
                  recurs in the movement which sounds most ‘finished’: 
                  “Ragged,” the title presumably meant halfway between 
                  tired and done playing rags. 
                    
                  There’s really very little competition for this; the Bolcom 
                  rags have occasionally been recorded elsewhere, Adams’ 
                  China Gates has popped up on a few recital discs - though 
                  not as much as one might expect for such an appealing work - 
                  and the Barber has been recorded several times though the Naxos 
                  performance is more soft-focus than this. But Jocelyn Swigger’s 
                  lineup here meshes extremely well, and the pieces she has chosen 
                  both go naturally together and make a very satisfying program. 
                  She digs into the rags with relish - though, wisely, not too 
                  much relish; Scott Joplin warned that the only way to play a 
                  rag poorly was to play it fast. She projects the blues rhythms 
                  very well, and feels at home in the more abstract visions of 
                  Scherzinger and Adams, where the repetition never wears. The 
                  Jelly Roll “Finger Buster” does sound rather finger-busting; 
                  Jelly Roll himself dispatches it with jaw-dropping ease, but 
                  then, as Swigger herself admits in the booklet, the composer 
                  “had much larger hands than mine.” There’s 
                  also a YouTube clip of Dick Hyman absolutely demolishing the 
                  piece on a 1986 BBC appearance. But I can’t imagine better 
                  advocates for works like Scherzinger’s, and Amy Rubin’s 
                  own recording of her piano music is now very hard to find. 
                    
                  Jocelyn Swigger’s booklet essay is superb and does a terrific 
                  job explaining her musical choices; the engineering is mostly 
                  very good - nothing spectacular - but I was a little disconcerted 
                  by how closely-miked the tongue-clicking in “The Serpent’s 
                  Kiss” seemed to be. It’s a quirk well worth living 
                  with, because this back-roads tour of the lovely, unexplored 
                  bits of American classical and folk music is a one-of-a-kind 
                  journey. Rhythms & Blues is my most pleasant surprise 
                  of the year so far. 
                    
                  Brian Reinhart