Antonio Flinta: Anger, Commitment and Love

Chilean-born pianist Antonio Flinta, based now in Italy, catches the ear with his solo piano presentations. His alone-at-the-keyboard albums include Secret Of A Kiri Tree (2022) and 2023's marvelous Peripheral Songs's—both self-produced discs that make a great argument for self-production; they can sit on a serious listening shelf with Keith Jarrett, Kenny Werner or Marc Copland. He expands his vision for a quartet outing on a fourth album with his longstanding trio featuring bassist Roberto Bucci and drummer Claudio Gioannini, joined by saxophonist Luciano Orologi for Anger, Commitment and Love. One spin reveals a classic take on the jazz quartet sound.

Flinta is a distinctive pianist, with a crisp, assertive touch and slightly quirky articulation. Bassist Bucci and drummer Gioannini, have recorded three trio outings with the pianist/leader, and the familiarity and simpatico on display here are the keys to the success of the outing. The music has the depth and one-of-a-kind character of John Coltrane's classic group with drummer Elvin Jones, bassist Jimmy Garrison and pianist and McCoy Tyner. Flinta's sound is percussive and muscular; drummer Gioannini is fearless, and bassist Bucci holds down the middle with a powerful determination. Saxophonist Orologi fits into the mix well, on his sometimes-raw tenor and his pristine-toned soprano sax.

Of the five tunes here—four from Flinta's pen and one from bassist Bucci—three are extended workouts, between twelve and fourteen minutes long, giving the group much room to roam. They make the most of it, with the leader writing stories full of surprises and moments of mysterious beauty.

"Yudhisthira's Song," falling under the CD title's commitment component, opens the set by taking inspiration from the Indian epic Mahabharata's main character (Yudhishthira), who makes his final journey up the mountain with his four-legged companion to achieve heaven, to be told that paradise is not open to dogs. "In that case, I don't seek heaven," says the protagonist. The eleven-minute journey to the mountaintop sounds arduous, full of obstacles, before it slips into a karmic reverie, Flinta playing with a fetching delicacy and saxophonist Orologi weaving ardent cosmological threads into an increasing truculence that tapers into a shimmering acceptance before reaching again toward that heaven that becomes, ultimately, unattainable.

"Yone y Elena," composed for Flinta's young nieces, falls under "love," expressing the composer's familial fondness for his family with an acknowledgment that in the grand scheme of things, we are small, and nothing matters quite so much as the human connection of love does, while 'anger is addressed by "Yo Hombre del Mundo (Migrant)," the only non-Flinta original—composed by bassist Bucci —is a nod to migrants everywhere, those who are making arduous journeys to escape hunger and the chaos of crumbling societies, people suffering degradation and at times dumb, undisguised cruelty dished out by a crass cohort of the more fortunate among us. Clocking in at fourteen minutes—and serving as the recording's closer. The tune wanders, exploring sadness and despair. Clocking in at fourteen minutes, it is a stunning epic of a tune, felt and expressed deeply by Antonio Flinta and his inspired quartet.

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