Giuseppe VERDI (1813-1901) 
          
    Otello "Ouverture" [9:31]
    Claudio MONTEVERDI (1567-1643)
    Sì dolce è 'l tormento [8:42]
    Alessandro PARISOTTI (1853-1913)
    Se tu m'ami [6:47]
    Giacomo PUCCINI (1858-1924)
    Turandot "Nessun dorma" [6:29]
    Pietro MASCAGNI (1863-1945)
    Cavalleria rusticana "Intermezzo" [5:24]
    Tommaso GIORDANI
    (c
    1730-33-1806)
    Caro mio ben [7:25]
    Giovanni PAISIELLO (1740-1816)
    La molinara "Nel cor più non mi sento" [6:00]
    Michel GODARD 
    Fruccia d’ali [4:18]
    If this disc is, as the notes aver, a case of ‘honouring the past in order
    to have a dialogue with the present’ then taking classical repertoire and
    transmuting it into a jazz context is a by no means unexplored route. Those
    words are those of the soprano flugelhorn player Dario Savino Doronzo who
    teams with pianist Pietro Gallo and on three of the eight tracks with
    Michel Godard, who plays an instrument that cannot ever have been heard on
    a jazz recording – though there have been a fair few instrumental oddities
    since 1917 – which is that antique beast, the serpent.
    It’s an album of Italian arias from Monteverdi to Mascagni with a strong
    element of arie antiche. Doronzo plays with tonal warmth and
    precision and Pietro Gallo supplies fine and diverse support whilst soloing
    with authority. They play the overture to Verdi’s Otello, one of
    the few non-vocal inspirations, with attention to detail and bring to the
    Monteverdi aria that follows a pensive, romantic quality. Michel Godard
    manages to bring a trombone-like quality to the serpent that both solos
    here and plays unison with the flugelhorn. I think I can hear an edit along
    the way as I can at 1:49 in the next track Parisotti’s Se tu m’ami
    which was for so long attributed to Pergolesi. It’s played relatively
    straight and then with a greater rhythmic flexibility. Doronzo, as a
    stylist, occasionally evokes Miles Davis – in his Gil Evans days – rather
    more than a flugelhorn player proper, such as Clark Terry.
For his solo number, Gallo alludes to Puccini’s evergreen    Nessun dorma in his introduction and plays around the theme before
    embracing lyricism laced with bop inspiration. Dornozo, meanwhile, plays
    the melody of Mascagni’s Intermezzo quite straight and without
    sentimentality. He is a mobile technician and here his quick-witted styling
    really does have something reminiscent of Clark Terry, even down to the
    tonal richness of his horn. Caro mio ben is another well-known
    example of arie antiche, and here the flugelhorn and serpent are
    sufficiently different timbrally. The Paisiello La molinara is
    youthful, skipping, lyrical and elegant. There’s a bonus track too, the
    serpent player Michel Godard’s Fruccia d’ali, an ingenious workout
    for the serpent and flugelhorn without piano.
    The arrangements were variously by Doronzo and Gallo with collaborators M
    Paternoster and G Giannatempo.
    There are a few studio noises and some edits, as noted; high end studio
    noise as well. These are small irritants but there’s a good booklet note
    from the flugel player and an attractive look to the programme. Whether
    opera is really reimagined here, I think best to leave to the listener, but
    it certainly provides strong themes for improvisation. It also supplies
    that amazing instrumental wild card. Whitney Balliett famously referred to
    jazz as The Sound of Surprise; here, it’s The Sound of the Serpent.
    Jonathan Woolf