Duet

We Say...

Review by Britt Robson

This double-disc-length performance of live piano duets by the virtuoso Chick Corea and the pyrotechnic Hiromi Uehara is perfectly programmed and, remarkably, surprisingly cohesive. Multiple pianists in action often compensate for their lack of tonal variation with prodigious technique, creating ivory towers that are more imposing edifice than inspirational architecture. Not so on Duet. Genuine mutual respect collapses the 38-year age gap, with Hiromi curbing her impetuous mien and Corea eschewing pat melodic riffs, as alert and kinetic as he was for his 2007 duets with banjo player Bela Fleck.

Starting with tunes by Bill Evans ("Very Early") and Jobim ("How Insensitive") allows players and listeners alike to wade into this sojourn carefully, with an emphasis on sinuous sophistication. Hiromi's "Déjá vu" ups the ante into florid playfulness, with the pair exchanging lead and rhythm duties with generous, stylish aplomb. A cover of the Beatles' "Fool On The Hill" is a highlight, a melodic tour de force that nods to funk, pop and rock without ever losing the improvisational essence of jazz. Hiromi's "Humpty Dumpty" features the set's first deconstruction into dissonant clusters and asides that range from delicate to torrential. And Monk's "Bolivar Blues" lets both players show off their rhythmic and harmonic depth while engaging in thrilling negotiation on the fly.

The second disc is only slightly less satisfying. Corea's "Windows" feels a little unfocused and impressionistic compared to the other songs, and a cover of "Summertime" seems needlessly inventive — a baroque arrangement of stilted phrases — although not to the audience, who responds with enthusiastic applause. As with "Fool On the Hill," both pianists make magnificent use of the sturdy melodic contours of Hiromi's "Old Castle, by the River, in the Middle of a Forest," which contains an anthemic grandeur while brimming with little twitchy surprises and turns of phrase. Corea's "Do Mo (Children's Song #12)" again features seamless baton-passing and shared sacrifice amid the playful gambols. The ivory tower effect is perhaps most in evidence on "Concierto de Aranjuez," but as it evolves into Corea's classic "Spain" it's apparent that this mini-suite is meant to be a crowd-pleasing finale, and succeeds on that basis.