Best 10 Albums of the Year, Ken Weiss, Cadence. Best Jazz Album, New Release (tie) 2014
Two, Relative Pitch
Connie Crothers, piano
Jemeel Moondoc, alto saxophone
Derek Taylor
Dusted Magazine
January 23, 2013
Pianist Connie Crothers is well-versed in the art of the improvised duo. From pairings with fellow Tristano-leaning saxophonists Lenny Popkin and Richard Tabnik to more recent conclaves with bassist Michael Bisio and pianist David Arner, strong and fertile conversations form a good chunk of her discography past and present. Altoist Jemeel Moondoc is less accustomed to the format on record, although dialogues with bassist William Parker and dearly-departed drummer Denis Charles are cornerstones of his own catalog. The majority of his past records have dispensed with piano, as well. That last point is perhaps what makes Two most immediately appealing as an extended opportunity to hear him in close collaboration with a keyboardist of the caliber of Crothers. The cohesiveness of the music also points swiftly to another revelation: Moondoc and Crothers are good friends and have been playing together for many years, proof again that a musicians’ recorded output is usually simply the iceberg tip of their overall activity.
The bulk of the program finds the two players engaging in off-the-cuff improvisations, but they also find space for investigations of a piece apiece from their own songbooks. “You Let Me In to Your Life” is perhaps Moondoc’s crowning achievement as a composer, utterly disarming in its relative simplicity and captivating in its ability to balance and convey the mix of joy, awe and trepidation that attends nearly every nascent romance. In other words, ballads don’t get much more memorable or affecting. Crothers embraces the delicate, though highly resilient, theme with enthusiasm and the two spend nearly a dozen minutes devising a stream of lushly realized variations and detours that are by turns rhapsodic and romantic. Moondoc’s past versions of the piece (cf. Revolt of the Negro Lawn Jockeys and New World Pygmies, Vol. 2) are classics and this one very nearly hits par. Crothers’s “Deep Friendship” doesn’t carry quite the punch as a composition, but still yields comparably deep results, particularly in its closing minutes when Moondoc plays some his most unadorned alto lines of the session.
The six other improvised pieces vary in focus and demeanor, making the most of the acoustics of the loft studio space and the close mic’ing of the respective instruments. Crothers works the pedals rigorously, building bright effusive swells and barrages that ricochet off the walls and sometimes border on piercingly strident. Moondoc’s signature cry, a vernacular that ranges from dry, piquant squawks to soulful melodic runs with loamy roots in vintage Ornette, is on full display. Even on the various occasions when the duo breaks shared stride, the lulls in communication are only fleeting and the collective momentum quickly righted.
The chief takeaway from this intimate series of duets is that Crothers and Moondoc are kindred sentimental souls, though not the sort who traffic in cheap musical melodrama or surface sensitivity for the sake of personal aggrandizement. The emotional reach in their interactions is real and often raw, and made all the more so thanks to the absence of other instruments.
Mike Shanley
Jazz Times
August 8, 2013
Jemeel Moondoc (alto saxophone) and Connie Crothers (piano) have recorded prolifically enough to earn greater recognition, yet their work often falls below the radar. Moondoc began playing in the Loft-era New York, disappearing in the 9-to-5 world until reappearing in the 90‟s with a host of albums on the Eremite label. His tone and ideas have been compared to Ornette Coleman‟s, but he now sound like a kindred spirit of the late Jimmy Lyons, with a strong vocabulary delivered in a tone that doesn’t lose sight of bop. Crothers has been long associated with the legacy of her mentor Lennie Tristano, no holds barred freedom.
Two was recorded at the pianist loft and features six improvisations along with two compositions attributed to Moondoc and to Crothers individually. Jazz duets often get described as “conversations” between the two players, and this session clearly falls into this category. While a topic or two goes on a little too long, the overall discussion sharp points and empathetic support in a nod to his forebears, Moondoc enters on the first track with the three intro from Charlie Parker‟s “Parker‟s Mood”. For further elaboration, his standalone coda on that track almost sounds like a friendly explanation of what will come.
By “Improvisation 4”, the duo is turned into each other so well that the ballad sounds pre-composed. Throughout, the pianist uses various methods to develop the conversation: moving quickly with single-note lines or ascending dissonant chords, and low-end rumbling to boost the alto. When she offers some rubato thunder in the last track, it acts as a climatic finale to a fruitful heart to heart.
Kurt Gottschalk
The Squid's Ear
August 2, 2013
The pairing of pianist Connie Crothers and saxophonist Jemeel Moondoc holds many paths to possible intrigue. E ach of them is capable of East Village outré, ruminating improvisation and spontaneous swing. The one thing unlikely in their meeting is that it be uninteresting.
On TWO they mostly go for the softly introspective, gently following each other while luxuriating in the history of jazz. Six of the eight tracks are improvised and each player contributes a composition. Moondoc‟s “You Let Me Into Your Life” trades on a melody line that could sit aside a Cole Porter ballad without overextending itself. Crothers‟ “Deep Friendship” is a bit more jagged, allowing the pair to roam in peaks and valleys.
The other tracks are untitled, but those two titles are enough. The album is full of expressive playing and bluesy sentiment. It’s not an upbeat record, not often even mid tempo, but it’s a deeply felt one, and it stands as one of the better records in either of their catalogs.