Emilio Solla: Uncovering Music Already There

In the '40s, the jazz scene was dominated by bebop with its roots in swing music, formerly the purview of the big band era. Trios and quartets became the combo of choice for players such as Charlie Parker and Thelonious Monk, who took the harmonies of the old jazz and superimposed them on chord substitutions, resulting in complicated improvisations.

Gradually as the 21st century unfolded, a new generation of big band proponents have brought back the tradition and exhilaration of this music. Making that mighty sound is no longer found only on aged, scratchy vinyl LPs made by bandleaders from pre-war years and lingering on dusty shelves. Big bands have made a comeback, led by artists such as Christian McBride, Danilo Perez & The Bohusian Big Band, Michael Dease and Darcy James Argue's Secret Society. From Sweden comes Mats Gustafsson leading the Fire! Orchestra while Gary Crosby's Jazz Jamaica cooks up a potent ska stew from the island.

The Argentinian bandleader and composer Emilio Solla has become a fixture in big band music, bringing the festive, sensual Latin sounds to the world via his 17-piece Tango Jazz Orchestra. And his reach has only expanded after moving from Barcelona to New York. "I started to have large ensemble arrangements of my music commissioned by other big bands such as Arturo O'Farrill & The Afro Latin Jazz Orchestra, fusing the classical jazz orchestra line-up but making it sound South American in every possible way." Solla is presently working on a follow-up to Second Half, the scintillating 2014 album from his 9-piece La Inestable de Brooklyn Orchestra, which consists of an unusual combination of instruments: two reed players, one trumpet, one trombone, accordion, violin, piano, double-bass and drums. He created this music after undergoing a midlife crisis where he became uncomfortably aware of the passage of time and the finitude of life. He emerged with his spirit for living fully intact and a renewed vigor for composing and playing.

His 2021 collaboration with the ADDA Simfònica conducted by Josep Vicent produced Ritmo: The Chick Corea Symphony Tribute (Warner Classics), arranged for an 80-piece orchestra with piano jazz trio and featuring saxophonist Paquito D'Rivera and flamenco singer and saxophonist Antonio Lizana. Of his experience with Solla, d'Rivera said in an email: "I was very happy when they called me to participate on that wonderful Ritmo live recording, an ambitious symphonic project recreating the music of Chick Corea (one of my idols). I must tell you that I always knew that Emilio was a good writer—but not that good! I dare to say that Chick would have loved how magnificently Emilio arranged his music for the large format, that is, of course, a totally different animal (big one too)."

Solla harnesses the power of music not only to represent but also to enhance the world we live in. He accomplishes this by bridging cultural influences from around the world in places such as New York, Spain, Uruguay, Chile, Cuba, New Orleans and, naturally, Argentina. His music challenges the listener's perception of time and identity, weaving together myth, religion and history into a complex tapestry that defies conventional composition and blurs the line between the real and the imagined. His songs are complex and multi-layered explorations of nature and identity, offering an immersive and thought-provoking auditory experience.

The Argentinian author, Julio Cortázar, wrote in his novel Hopscotch, "Jazz is like a bird who migrates or emigrates or immigrates or transmigrates, roadblock jumper, smuggler, something that runs and mixes in the ordinary with the extraordinary." The protagonist said that in the second half of the novel after his lover, La Maga, disappeared and he returned to Buenos Aires. You sense he could easily have been listening to Solla's "Buenos Aires Blues" from Puertos: Music From International Waters (Avantango Records, 2019), the second Tango Jazz Orchestra album, a work that is rooted in the tango tradition with a modern pattern established by Astor Piazzolla.

Consider listening to the beautiful "La Novena" featuring Julien Labro on bandoneon while reading what this expressive artist has to say about his role as a sculptor of music and as a messenger of something that we strive to decipher.

The possibility of improvising was like jumping into the unknown.

Emilio Solla: Good morning from New York. I was at the jazz conference in Atlanta, and then I went to Barcelona. We have a small apartment which I lived in for ten years with my wife before moving to New York. I was also working a little bit on a commission to write a quartet for a client. I'm writing other pieces for him, for piano and clarinet. Nor performing so much while I am working.

All About Jazz: All About Jazz intends to run a series on big bands this year, so some of the focus will be on that. You've recorded 13 studio albums and been a sideman on 40 or more. To encompass an entire career with a jazz artist can be a massive task. But first some background. You were born and raised in Argentina?

ES: I was, yes. born in Mendoza and then raised mostly in Buenos Aires, so I would say basically I'm a Buenos Aires guy. I studied music there, started the classical conservatory and took piano lessons for a few years for the sake of learning really how to play the piano. I think that if you really want to learn you have to do serious classical training. So, I went there when I was older just to refine my piano chops but with a different perspective, more as a composer and as an arranger. I was already a jazz player, which means the whole approach is different.

AAJ: With your classical background, why did you make the transition to jazz?

ES: Maybe the sound? I guess it was much more interesting when I heard Bill Evans and Oscar Peterson. I heard some jazz in the family. My father used to play the double bass, aficionado not professionally, but he was into it when he was young. My brother used to play drums, so there was jazz at home. At the conservatory, you could not improvise if you were trying to play anything that wasn't written on the page. It was like an offense back in the day in the classical environment. So, I said, this is not what I hear, and most importantly, the possibility of improvising was like jumping into the unknown. I couldn't go back. It was too tempting.

AAJ: Whose records did the family listen to in the home?

ES: Glenn Miller all the time. And I remember hearing Duke Ellington and Oscar Peterson. My brother was a big fan of Peterson. Also, I would say the big bands, the golden era of the big band—Count Basie—that kind of music. Then I started exploring by myself and discovered Bill Evans through some friends and Chick Corea. It was a revelation.

AAJ: Then you moved to Europe?

ES: I was just for a month in Denmark because my sister was living there That was just one stop. I moved to Barcelona, actually, and lived there for ten years.

AAJ: Did you know someone in Barcelona before moving?

ES: Not really. I went there for a gig, playing with a singer and actress, Cecilia Rossetto, very famous in Buenos Aires. In her show, I was playing the piano, and she got a gig in Barcelona for the summer festival. She had a one-woman show: comedian, actress, dancer and singer. She was incredible. That was the door. Then I met lots of friends and people, of course.

AAJ: Was her show like a cabaret?

ES: Yes, but on a very high level.

AAJ: It would be interesting if you could go into the folk music of Argentina. Your first album was called Folklore.

ES: That may have been my second album, but the first to be known in Europe. That's maybe one of the reasons for the name of the album. My music was always very related to the folk music of my country, much more in fact than to tango music. Tango music came later.

AAJ: Would you describe what the folk music of Argentina is like?

ES: I will say the folk music of Argentina is a mix of Indian songs and a lot of influence from Spain, basically. The music of the West Coast has a lot of six/eight and three/four rhythms. It comes actually more from the mountains area, and it has many similarities with the music of Peru and Colombia, which are to the Northwest of Argentina, I'm drawn to that because my parents were friends with some of those musicians from my country.

That's the music that was at my home as well for my father and mother, too. And I always listen to that music, so if you look for a definition, there's a lot of folk and a lot of tango going into my music. I draw from information and rhythms and groove and ways of expressing the music that are totally based on both the folk, which is the music of the countryside of Argentina, and the tango tradition, which is the music of Buenos Aires. They are distinctively a very different music and genre.

AAJ: While in school, who would you say were musicians that influenced you to study jazz?

ES: Bill "Beloved" Evans, as I say, and Chick Corea were probably were the two stronger ones in the beginning. And then one day I heard Keith Jarrett and that was it. To be honest with you, I doubt I can hardly listen to any other pianist.

AAJ: Jarrett has an unusual trait of making sounds with his voice as he is playing.

ES: For me it's such an organic thing of what's happening to him while he plays that I don't even hear it. It's like he's the music himself. Sometimes even critics say that he's kind of acting a character. I think they do not understand what's going on in the least. He is in connection with the music in a way that is probably impossible for any of us to understand. He's in a different space than any other musician, any other improviser that I've ever heard. So, for me it makes total sense. I mean, if he screams or he doesn't scream or his positions on the piano are not correct, everything he does physically and sonically is part of his sound on the piano. Besides the trio or quartet albums, if you're a fan, as I am, if you know well all his solo piano concerts where he just goes on stage and improvises, then who cares if he screams?

AAJ: Would you say there is a composition of yours that is similar to one of Keith Jarrett's?

ES: That's interesting. I don't think he influences me as a composer but definitely as a pianist. I think as a composer, he has probably nurtured me as many of the other good jazz composers from all times in the sense of how he's using harmony and melody and also in classical music. If you check my sound on the piano, my way of playing, I'm trying to steal as much as possible. But he's only one.

There is one song that I recorded in an album called Sentido (Fresh Sound New Talent, 2004), which is called "Las últimas pipas." I think that has something of the European Quartet of Jarrett that might be related. I can relate much more to Astor Piazzolla or to the folk composers of Argentina because the groove and atmosphere comes from them. In my bands, when I have a bandoneon player, I tell him to listen to how Piazzolla phrases while playing the music and try to have that spirit.

AAJ: Ultimately, what brought you to New York City?

ES: The music. It was not the food, for sure, nor the style or quality of life. Personally, I'm always looking for challenges. When I was in Argentina, I was already doing well, Then I needed to go to Europe because the situation in Argentina was not good. So, for me it was a challenge to move one step higher. I was there for ten years and started playing in Spain, and then I put out this album, The Suite Piazzoliana (Fresh Sounds World Jazz 2001). That opened the doors of Europe for me in Germany and Scandinavia. I started playing around and, okay, so I'm doing fine here. What's next? Where is the place that I will be small and nobody?

AAJ: You were still in the first half of your lifetime when change is possible more easily?

ES: Yes, exactly. And I was into the challenge of change. Okay, let's go to a place where I get my ass kicked, where everybody's better than me so I don't get lazy. I've seen it happen to many guys around me. They get a teaching position and they are playing and are good; they're doing fine. But I felt this was not for me. I wanted to see if I could make it with the big guys to see how far I can go and how good I can get. And for me, if I have the difficulty to overcome, then I get better. Then I study, then I go. I always get myself into trouble by saying I can do things that I really cannot do.

But then in the meantime, I learned how to do them. That's the way in which I work, which is a little bit of a hard face in a way. (This in Spanish would translate roughly to "tener un poco de cara dura," meaning to be serious and not so approachable.) At the same time, this is what keeps me moving. And obviously at this point I can say I'm a good musician and I know a number of things, but at the same time it is so much more what I don't know, especially as a pianist. I'm really very mediocre. As a composer, I think I'm stronger. I think New York gives me that. New York puts you in your place all the time, very clearly. One day you are on the Lincoln Center main stage with Paquito d'Rivera and Arturo O'Farrill and Wynton Marsalis, and the next day you're home and the phone is not ringing. And you go to do your restaurant gig because you have to pay the bills. So that situation keeps you very awakened, very aware of what it means to be playing at the top.

AAJ: Who did you meet first in New York that you became either friends or played with? Who was your first real contact there that was helpful to you?

ES: Pablo Aslan, the great bassist from Argentina, had been living in New York for many years. He opened many doors for me. I had worked with him as an arranger for his sextet before I moved. Brooklyn is the place I actually moved to because many musicians are here, a lot of arts going on and the rent is more affordable than in Manhattan. There is a train here and I get into Midtown in 20, 25 minutes. I'm teaching at The New School, which is in Manhattan, so I go there twice a week and it's easy. And at the same time, I live in front of Prospect Park, which I can see from my window. My neighborhood is cool.

AAJ: In such a pleasant setting, is there a particular time of day that you like to compose?

ES: That's difficult to say. For me, I work when I have to work, so I don't really have a preference. I'm definitely not a morning guy. I'm more of a night guy. So sometimes when I have serious work that I have to deliver, I might be working till late at night. Other than that, I don't really have a routine. I'm very disorganized as a composer. It creates a lot of anxiety and anguish when I'm composing, so I'm very unstable. I go out, I make my coffee, sit at the piano to work, then go do emails, get distracted, go to the park, come back. But I know at the same time that the music is working in me. But I'm not a German or an Austrian guy in the sense that I'm going to compose from 12 to 5. That's definitely not me. It freaks me out. It's like I need to get up and go do things, lose the time.

AAJ: You say disorganized, and so you compose a piece for La Inestable de Brooklyn. It translates as "instability." It is a nine-piece orchestra I read on your website that you made nine phone calls to the musicians and everybody accepted the first time. That was pretty fortunate.

ES: No, no, it means unstable. The Brooklyn Unstable Orchestra. That's a joke from Argentina music because it doesn't translate that well, but I'm fine with it. It is like when you have an orchestra that performs always in a theater. For example, in Latin America, you would call it La orquesta estable del teatro or the stable orchestra of the theater, maybe for Cologne. For me, it's the unstable orchestra because this is New York, so I never know who I'm going to get. I try to work with the same people, but it's unstable. So, that's why I baptized it like that. Actually, my first large ensemble album was the one I mentioned before, Suite Piazzollana that features Chris Cheek, Jorge Rossy and Omer Avital. Those are some great cats there. And Second Half (Self-Produced, 2014) is actually the continuation of that project.

What I hear and what the other person hears is probably very different. That's where the magic is.

AAJ: Is there a central theme to Suite Piazzollana?

ES: Not really. The Argentinian sound is very Argentinian, I would say, and at the same time, very many other things. There is a lot of jazz harmony and improvisation, a lot of chamber approach to the writing, developing the pieces into longer form. There is something I like from the western classical music tradition. I don't compose within the jazz parameters, those kinds of structures that are more related to the big band. My writing is more related really to classical composing. So, I think even when I work in smaller settings, like my quintets, everything has to do with my pleasure for writing. I don't like to write just in the jazz world, in that you have the tune and the musicians improvise and then you hear the tune again. My music is almost never like that.

We take side walks into the scenery, into the landscape, and get lost in the woods and then, oh, we are back on the highway somehow. Let's take that road without knowing where it's leading. But a central theme? Sometimes I try to find something because producers like that for marketing, but to be honest with you, for me it's just my music. I'm not trying to say anything and hopefully at the same time, I'm saying some things. But what you hear and what I hear and what the other person hears is probably very different. That's where the magic is. And I don't want to be in control of that. Normally, I don't write for the sake of provoking a certain emotion. It resonates in me and hopefully my wish is that it will resonate at the same time in somebody else. That's all that interests me.

AAJ: Second Half is an intriguing album. Listening for the second time last night, there are these diversions, "side paths" you say. It became a little clearer but will require another listen to better understand.

ES: Yes, you must listen to it three or four times. Then you'll probably start finding relations and other things. Some things may sound like, why are we here? But I can't explain more.

AAJ: By naming the album Second Half, it gives me the impression you're intending to portray the second half of a lifespan.

ES: Definitely. You see, I had a big crisis back in 2012, like a personal breakdown. When I recovered, one of the first things I started on was putting together this nine-piece again and this album. That's why I called it a second half. Like, okay, we are in good shape now for the second half.

AAJ: Do you have a particular technique for songwriting that is personal to you? For example, if you start a song in a minor key, do you go to a major chord? Do you use modulation much in your compositions? Things like that.

ES: I never know. I have a technique, but I don't have plans. My technique is to try to listen to where the music is going and try to honor and respect and understand what the music is telling me, which might sound a little bit abstract. But if you go deeper into what I think is the real composition, the real way in which you can create something is where you are not so much in charge. Your job is more to make the music apparent and clear to your audience, to the listener as opposed to the more egocentric approach that has to do more with the vanity of the composer. More and more, I believe that we are just messengers of something that is much bigger—which doesn't have any kind of religious connotation for me because I'm not religious—something that we are just trying to decipher. We are here and the real job of the composer for me is to put into notes and sound a score that is already there somehow. I think it was Michelangelo who was saying about sculpting. The form is already there. What I do is take out the rest. I take out what is covering the piece of art, but the piece of art is already there. I am not creating it, just uncovering it.

And that's exactly the way I see the music. So, I don't have a plan. I'm trying to listen to the plan that the music might have for itself and trying to write it. And the same goes for everything, for harmony, for melody. I start with an idea, of course, a small idea, maybe a melody or a rhythm or anything. Of course, I have a technique to put that idea through the lens of counterpoint and harmony and orchestration and form and many questions. But in asking all those questions, my attitude is always to be honest and truthful to what the music wants as opposed to what I want. I try to put as little as possible of myself in the process, if that makes any sense, even if sometimes I do not agree with what the music is saying. I have cases where I'm unsure whether specific parts of a piece should be there, and I tried to take it out but feel that the form just falls down and breaks apart. Well, maybe this is here for a reason that I do not understand and so be it. Who am I? Who am I to tell the music what the music has to be?

It is an interesting paradox because at the same time, of course, it sounds like that because I am involved in the process. If it's another colleague, the music will sound different with the same idea. So, it's not true. I am involved, but I'm involved as a catalyst. I'm involved as much as possible to, okay, what do you need? And the music will not talk to you, so what you do is write tons of options and play blind letting the music speak.

AAJ: That is a lot to take in. Could you provide an example of a song that went someplace you weren't expecting it to go?

ES: Oh yes. Many, many, many. For example, I have this nice piece that is called "La Novena" in my big band album.

AAJ: That would be on your Puertos: Music from International Waters (Avantango Records, 2019) album with the Tango Jazz Orchestra. You mentioned that you're not religious. The Novena in Catholicism is a nine-day period of prayer between Ascension and Pentecost.

ES: Okay, but novena is also the transition of the ninth. The reason why it's called that is because the melody (he sings: da-do-dee-do-da-do-da-dee-da) is a minor scale in that case from step one to step nine, and the nine notes motif is permeating the whole composition all the time. So, it's called "La Novena" simply because of that scale in the composition. If you listen, you will find that before the melody starts with the baritone saxophone (singing: Oh-do-dee-do-da-da / oh-do-dee-do-dee). That's a very beautiful melody, and I can say it's beautiful because I am very little involved with it, because it's something that was given to me. I just wrote it down and it's beautiful. Thank you, whoever sends this to me. Thanks for that beautiful melody.

That takes us to the ego part, which is tricky because when I say these kinds of things sometimes in the master classes, I like to provoke thought. I will grab something on my computer and I would say, this is great, this is awesome, this is beautiful. Some people will react like, wow, you're talking about your own music. But then I say, it's not my music; it's just music that was given to me. I can hear some parts of my music that are fucking gorgeous. And I said, how lucky I am the guy that can hear this music because I do not feel so much responsibility for it.

AAJ: That's an interesting point. Anyway, before the melody starts, you hear an introduction. I think it's a 16-bar introduction with music that appear to be unrelated to the tune.

ES: It was in the process of composing; I thought an intro was needed for this piece. I didn't want to start the melody right away; I wanted to present the melody. And this showed up on the piano a few minutes later. Where is this coming from? Because then the composer takes over and it's like, okay, but this is not related. There it is. Who knows why that intro is there? And it's funny because I laugh when I talk about this with the students sometimes. Honestly, I cannot give an explanation. Who knows and who cares? As a composer, you don't have to be in control of everything. I've recorded that tune like three or four times already in different formats, with the 9-piece and the quintet. It always has that intro, and it sounds good.

AAJ: Julien Labro plays beautifully on the bandoneon in that piece. There are so many excellent musicians in New York City. How do you choose your players?

ES: Personal affinities and people I have played with before or people I have heard in some project that I like. I don't have a rule. With the rhythm section, of course, it's very important for me. I try to go with people that understand Latin American music. Otherwise, it becomes much like a North American version. So, in that, I am careful. I am more demanding, but saxophone players, trumpet players in New York. Yeah, it's ridiculous. Everybody's so good.

AAJ: It must be challenging to tour with a large band. How many dates have you played with this one?

ES: We have not really toured at all. We played in New York and twice out of town. That was it. Touring with a big band is crazy. It's very expensive for the festival or promoter to be able to pay for that. That's one of the reasons why this album that I'm recording, I went back to my nine-piece because it's easier to move and easier to play than with than a big band. Right?

AAJ: When do you expect we might see this album you are working on?

ES: I hope to have it ready for release in May. I won the grant from Chamber Music America last year to write this one. Just yesterday, no, Saturday, I found the name for the album. It's going to be called Handmade.

AAJ: Why are you calling the album that?

ES: I wanted to write something about these crazy times where AI is taking control. People just use computers and we don't. I'm writing with paper and pencil and my people are playing their asses off on their instruments. There are no electronics. It's just people playing acoustically, things that are made out of wood and strings, like handmade.

AAJ: Are you just in the practicing stage now?

ES: I have some recordings that we play. At the Jazz Gallery, we recorded two sets on video and audio, but it's a work in progress. Right now, I'm changing things. But yes, we're working actively playing gigs since last year in the city. We will play at Smalls Jazz Club. And then we get into the studio and I'm looking forward to that. I think it's going to be a good album.

AAJ: That would be fantastic if you would send me a song that you've completed.

ES: Yes, sure, as long as you don't publish them, I can send you a couple. There were two that I used on something I applied for that I needed to have really current. I think I chose the one I call "Joni Mitchell." The other one is the second part of a suite that I am writing about the pandemic that has three parts, but I don't have a name for it yet. It's a slow milonga. Very beautiful melody.

AAJ: What did you find interesting about Joni Mitchell?

ES: Everything! That album Hejira, also Mingus and what's that other one, Don Juan. I was introduced to her music by one of my brothers when I was very young, and I find it incredible. Blue. These I must have played a trillion times. In this song for some reason, I find that the harmony in the way I'm playing the piano felt like her a little bit. It wasn't meant to be for her, but then it sounds like some things that she would do on the guitar, some of the chords, I think, the way I'm playing.

AAJ: On the album Puertos, it's about ports with each song matched to a city. Cadiz is in Spain, right? That one has a beautiful flamenco sound.

ES: Yes, Cadiz is the epicenter of flamenco music in the South of Spain. But that wasn't exactly how it went. The songs were already written. Talking with my producer, I was finding a meaning for the whole thing, and that was this idea about the ports. In Argentina, our music is so much a mix of things that were from there, that came from immigration. We started playing with this idea and said, "Okay, let's find one port that could relate to each of the songs."

AAJ: It seems you sometimes do things in a reverse or backward way.

ES: I would say so. It's funny, right? Because today I was teaching my course at The New School. We're discussing some Duke Ellington music with my students, and I was talking about some harmonization techniques. I told them exactly that you reharmonize going backwards. You put the target, say, I want to write with this score. So, you start seeing which course you can use in the bars that can be forced so that you create a cadence to that arrival point. Right? It makes sense with what you're saying now about working backwards and finding things later. Introductions should be the last part of the song that is written actually, because how are you going to introduce a song that you still don't know?

AAJ: You emailed me the link to Ritmo (Warner Classics, 2023), the orchestrated piece you arranged that was a celebration of Chick Corea's music and its fusion with Latin jazz. This was a full 80-piece orchestra. Very impressive.

ES: It is his music, of course, but I recomposed it and added interludes. We did it as an homage to him. I received a call in Spain from this orchestral conductor, Josep Vicent. He wanted me to do this, and of course I jumped in like crazy.

AAJ: You were able to recruit Paquito d'Rivera for the project. Did ADDA Sinfonica extend you the flexibility to choose your musicians?

ES: Paquito had three songs and Antonio Lizana I think one. It was my trio—piano, bass and drums—with the orchestra. I proposed that to them and said, look, if we're going to do Chick, we need a piano trio. We sometimes must jump into solos for that flavor, and then we need a main jazz guy, somebody, and that's when I thought of Paquito. I've done so many projects with him and I love him. We relate very well and he's a fantastic player. He was totally into it from minute one, so that was great to work with him. If you watch the video of the version of "Spain" that we did, it is really special.

AAJ: For me, that was Corea's finest composition after Return to Forever.

ES: I would agree with that. Probably in my top five for sure. "Spain" is a marvelous tune, and the arrangement is really powerful because I'm starting with Joaquin Rodrigo's guitar concerto because "Spain" is taken from that. When doing the orchestration, I overlapped those two pieces. I'm really proud of that.

AAJ: The other great song of Corea is "Crystal Silence," which I saw him play with Gary Burton once in Massachusetts in the '80s. You have that on the El Siempre Mar (Tiger Turn, 2023) album.

ES: They have an album of that name, I believe, two actually, one in the studio and the other is live in Europe somewhere. That is a phenomenal album. On "Spain," Antonio (Lizana) wrote some lyrics in Spanish and we featured him. He is a fantastic saxophonist and cantor, a flamenco singer.

AAJ: You wrote an inspired score for "Senor Mouse" from Return to Forever's Hymn of the Seventh Galaxy (Polydor, 1973).

ES: You must listen closely to that. The recording is good but the mix is not very good, in my opinion. It was complicated because it was recorded in the theater, so there's a lot of bleeding, what we call it when you have some music that gets into the other microphone. I'm not very happy with the mix. If you have the chance to hear it live or if you hear the videos that are on YouTube, I think it sounds much better.

AAJ: Will you continue to play Ritmo when possible?

ES: We played it in '23 and we played it this year (2024). It was in the summer in Alicante and then went to the festival in Slovenia. We played it with the whole orchestra and Paquito in Madrid. No, the project is still alive and there are some talks about bringing it to Jazz at Lincoln Center on the main stage.

In his unfinished "Pandemic Suite," Solla is going all the way.

AAJ: What would you say is your most technically innovative piece? For example, have you worked with the pitches in the chromatic scale to alter a rhythmic pattern?

ES: That's a coincidence you asked me that because I am going to do my first 12-tone in the next album. I know 12-tone. I teach it, understand it; I can write it, analyze it. But I haven't been a super fan. It doesn't talk to me that much. But ... I say "but" because I've used something that is in 12-tone music called the pitch set class, which is like, just grab a group of notes and produce everything out of that, even the harmony, which is a contemporary way of writing that Bartok and those guys like Stravinsky would use. I've used that in the past in my Suite Piazzollana. There's some of that in "Four for Miles" in Puertos. But in the new suite for the first time, I'm going all the way, like 12-tone in the first part of the "Pandemic Suite." It's called "Milonga Ante." It is not a hundred percent 12-tone, but in many parts it is.

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