from Paul Motian: A Selection on ECM
Nothing Ever Was Anyway (ECM 1997) was universally hailed as one of very best records in the ECM catalogue, and then Amaryllis comes along and threatens to dislodge it. One reason for this is that this record contains music written by the trio rather than by another, albeit a superb, composer - Annette Peacock. A second is that this Marilyn Crispell, this romantic, flowing, singing Marilyn Crispell is now understood and accepted unreservedly. Her touch, her pedalling, taken aside from what she plays, bespeaks the classically trained pianist she is. But for the third, and most important, reason, Crispell can speak for herself, from the liner notes:

... But for me, the revelation of the session came when Manfred suggested that we play some slow free pieces. What emerged was, possibly, some of the most beautiful music on this album. These pieces, now entitled Amaryllis, Voices, M.E. and Avatar, were not "composed", but sound as though they were. There's a great depth of communication, a rare delicacy. It's a very "inner space".

The revelation of this music somehow was that freedom is not a concept that can be reserved for any one particular style of improvised music. For me, it is both an extension of the past and a new beginning. ...

In the second paragraph, Crispell is talking about her performance history as someone in "Cecil Taylor" free jazz mold, breathing fire technically and emotionally. The other side of Crispell that was exposed in Nothing is fully fleshed out here.

Peacock, as he always seems to be, is extremely powerful, and uses his almost patented technique of maintaining two voices, one being mostly a pedal point to great effect. Two of his compositions, though, "Requiem" and "December Greenwings", have a distinctly lighter, almost playful feel that jars a bit with their surroundings.

The trio brings Motian's "Conception Vessel" (from his 1973 ECM debut album of the same name) back, and a comparison between Crispell and Jarrett can be rewarding. Motian's treatment of rhythm is rather clear here. The unit of time is very small and not grouped, hence there is no accent to produce a pulse most of the time. The lack of grouping means there can be no syncopation because there is no expectation. In between the times when this is clear, he blurs the placement of the rhythmic unit, allowing Crispell and Peacock to play a straight without sounding like it, and to rubato without it being obvious. The result is a floating feeling, that nevertheless is anchored, or better, teathered, that nevertheless feels firm.

Marvelous, stunning and totally engrossing, Amaryllis will reveal endless layers of many plays.