The “Que Jazz É Este?” festival has always shown a thoughtful commitment to presenting concerts tailored to more discerning audiences, often (though not exclusively) at Teatro Viriato. The young Swiss pianist Marie Krüttli returned to Portugal for the third time. After captivating listeners in Porto and Braga, it was Viseu’s turn to welcome this rising star of contemporary European jazz.
Her music dwells in a delicate space, suspended between serenity and tension. Krüttli shapes her compositions with an openness that invites the listener in, building from small, striking melodic and harmonic fragments — concise and refined — that serve as the music’s structural heart. Her writing is meticulous yet never rigid: it breathes, it listens, and it embraces improvisation. This openness is a hallmark of a certain stream within European jazz — one that distances itself from American rubato and familiar standards, favoring a more abstract path, unbound by tradition and rich in sonic texture.
Krüttli plays with remarkable grace — understated, yet intensely present. The double bass weaves its own melodic thread, not merely supporting the piano, but responding to it, expanding it. The drums do far more than keep time; they conjure an entire sonic landscape, rhythmic and textural, layered and alive. Together, the trio creates a compelling interplay where each instrument charts its own course, yet remains deeply connected to the others. The result is a sound architecture that’s intricate and alive — a thoroughly modern take on the classic jazz trio. One senses the unity of the group, but also the distinct voice of each musician, intertwining without ever overpowering one another. It’s music that demands attentive listening — and offers deep reward in return.
There are no dramatic emotional peaks; instead, the music burns with a quiet intensity. Restraint here does not mean absence — it means depth. Each piece unfolds in contrasting episodes, carefully crafted and connected with sensitivity. Krüttli performed compositions from her new album as well as some yet-to-be-recorded works. The transitions between pieces were so fluid, it was often hard to tell where one ended and the next began.
Her piano voice lies somewhere between the lyrical elegance of Paul Bley and the visceral density of Cecil Taylor, blended into a language that is uniquely her own. One moment in particular stood out — a duet between piano and drums, free, raw, and deeply musical — a moment of pure dialogue, where sound became conversation, and time seemed to suspend.
https://jazz.pt/reports/perguntar-nunca-e-demais
