Intakt's In Motion session documents the first performance of the trio consisting of Richard Poole, Marilyn Crispell and Gary Peacock. The fact that the three of them seek new means of interaction suggests their continuing restlessness for new improvisational opportunities. The three play with absolute authority and intuitive responsiveness, as if they have been performing for decades. No so, though. And thus, there's an edge of charmed discovery and edgy expectancy as they perform nine tracks of anything-can-happen improvisation. The sole exception is the inclusion of Peacock's scampering "Gary's Theme," which Crispell fractures into oblique bi-tonal offshoots of the percussive main theme, she veering in other harmonic directions to contrast with Peacock's restatement of the theme. When all three musicians engage, Crispell sweeps to the upper extreme of the keyboard and provides its contrast with its lowest notes before breaking into clusters as Peacock develops his own rippling thematic expansion. Peacock complements Crispell's thunderous force with longer tones, melodic segments and sometimes quarter notes. In return, Crispell provides intermittent single-note treble interjections during the bassist's masterful solo of occasional thematic allusions developing into quickly conceived and technically virtuosic free improvisation. An album of contrasts, In Motion begins, as if awakening, with Crispell's quiet expression of "Ahzân's" minor modal theme, grounded by Peacock's sustained notes, before Poole enters almost unobtrusively with occasional atmospheric colors of malleted rumbling and light cym- bal crashes. Poole announces his presence with undeniable force on the second track, "Backseat of the Galaxy," one of two pieces from Frank Parker's book of poems, Heart Shaped Blossoms. Crispell takes up the spirit of "Backseat of the Galaxy" with notes, associated with disjointed cohesion, that contrast in extremes of pitch and harmonic logic. Those contrasts create tension as she chooses notes not expected, thereby reinforcing individuality. On the next track, "Dichotomy," the name itself becomes a reference to the trio's style throughout In Motion. The singing vibrancy of Peacock's melodic solo introducing "Dichotomy" couldn't be more disarming before Crispell and Poole come crashing in with the fierceness of thunderous smashing chords and of rattling and rolling intensity. And then it stops. Peacock attains serenity again, as if he heard no dramatic interruption, and begins where he stopped. And so it goes, back and forth, free frenzy and structured song, one before and after another. The surprise. The control. The mutual understanding of concept. All is calm during "Blue Streets Up and Down," another line found in Parker's book. On that track, Peacock creates his own repeated bass line that suggests samba. Crispell abandons fortissimo surges for a medium-volume, even- tempered revelation of beauty contained within the piece's two chords and rhythms. "Serakunda" is similar in concept as Peacock presents a continuing vamp over which Crispell performs with sustained chords and upper-register melody. "Isle of Nowhere" seems to develop as Crispell sets up with single-note minimal sketching a haunting mood without pre-arrangement, Peacock and Poole following her slowly blossoming creation. Likewise, "And Yet" suggests that through immediate inspiration, Crispell examines tonal possibilities, tentatively enough for Peacock and Poole to follow her un-rehearsed lead. Crispell accompanies Peacock's resonating work on "Lucid Air" with her chiming treble chords, but the interesting component of the track is Poole's textural development at its start and through- out. Peacock is even more resonant on "In Motion." The title track finds Crispell much in the middle register with dense minor chords, as Peacock and Poole join with connected but individual statements, not as accompaniment but as conversation. This is a trio of seasoned professionals who respond spontaneously to one another and by doing so record a remarkable album.

Nominal leader Richard Poole, veteran multi- instrumentalist from New England, here on drums, may possess a slender discography, but it now contains a real gem. That's due to his collaborators on In Motion, fellow upstate New Yorkers pianist Marilyn Crispell and bassist Gary Peacock. The latter pair combined on a series of trio dates helmed by Crispell back in the late '90s, completed by Paul Motian; in spite of the homophone in the title there's no indication that this is an homage to the late drummer but it does share many of the characteristics of the previous trio's output in its empathetic interplay and melodic warmth.

What makes the similarity even more noteworthy is the fact that all but one of the ten cuts are spontaneous collectives, the only ringer being the sprightly "Gary's Theme" from Peacock. Even the improvisations sound like songs. Case in point is "Serakunda": after Poole sets up a gentle shuffle, Peacock introduces a motif with Caribbean lilt, which inspires Crispell to dig into a rich vein of harmonic imagination and extemporized tunefulness for a satisfying result. Elsewhere Peacock makes his instrument sing, quiver and lament with his upper-register plucking and wiry contrapuntal discourse with Crispell.

Poole establishes himself as a sensitive accompanist who doesn't overwhelm even in the heaviest moments. Those come on "Dichotomy" where the ongoing alternation of pizzicato stories and tandem crashing ferocity from piano and drums suggests either premeditation or an unprecedented level of common feeling. Having made an impressive start with "Ahzân", in which ruminative piano engages with resonant bass in a dialogue of stunning emotional depth, ably supported by cymbal coloration, the album continues at the same level thereafter, producing an outing that stands out not only among the works of the drummer, but among those of his comrades as well.

Restons en compagnie de Marilyn Crispell mais traversons l’Atlantique pour entendre un autre trio, placé, apparemment, sous la direction du batteur Richard Poole, musicien peu connu et qui reste très en retrait par rapport à ses compagnons, le grand contrebassiste Gary Peacock en tête, qui retrouve ici une partenaire de longue date, tout en apparaissant, pour la première fois (comme Poole d’ailleurs) sur le label Intakt. La complicité, les acquis, les connaissances et l’expérience font que ces dix pièces improvisées, jouées avec conviction par des musiciens hors pair, sont fort délectables, même si l’on semble rester un peu dans l’exercice esthétique

https://www.culturejazz.fr/spip.php?article3004

A bit of a Woodstock improv summit here, ostensibly led by the relatively unknown Poole. As is the case with much of Crispell’s music over the last two decades, much of this playing is understated and lyrical (if unpredictably so). This subtlety is matched by Poole and Peacock, and the disc opens in a gorgeous and limpid space where all three gently probe simple intervallic figures. Poole stands out for his sensitivity and reserve, with his spare cymbal work on the deeply melancholy “Ahzan” keeping things in a kind of incandescent space. This is the method on the majority of these mostly improvised pieces: a slow, patient fanning of flames that eschews eruption in favor of resonant tensional space.

This isn’t to say that there’s no contrast or drive here, only that it’s contextualized smartly and elegantly. “Backseat of the Galaxy” seems to rumble forward with intent, but then backs off into a kind of stuttering, three-way staccato. “Dichotomy” fittingly swerves between Peacock’s ruminations and aggressive percussive playing from Crispell and Poole (who sounds marvelously like Baby Sommer here, setting up a really nice set of rolling patterns that contrasts with Crispell’s jabbing angles). And they even dip into an understated, abstracted South African groove on “Serakunda,” with some gloriously bright pianism at the end, unfurling in double-time. But while I dig these quicksilver moments, including Poole’s careful use of tuned toms on “Blue Streets Up and Down” or the lithe swing on “Gary’s Theme,” I have to say that I still fell most of all for the ballads. Whatever your preference, it’s a very strong date from Crispell and company.

https://www.pointofdeparture.org/PoD55/PoD55MoreMoments4.html

Sie haben gemeinsame Reminiszenzen, sind aber immer noch in Bewegung. Pianistin Marilyn Crispell und Bassist Gary Peacock sind langjährige Partner und treffen hier den Drummer Richard Poole aus Miami. Mit wechselnden Stilbezügen gestalten sie spontan kürzere Klangereignisse. Exemplarisch dialogisiert in <<

Au plus près de Richard Poole, Marilyn Crispell et Gary Peacock (merveilleuse prise de son de Chris Andersen: avions-nous déjà entendu si profondément la contrebasse de l'ancien partenaire du grand Albert ?), nous voici embarqués. Le début de cet enregistrement nous le fait imaginer méditatif. Méditatif et rien que méditatif. Il n'en est rien faire alterner soyeuse contrebasse solo et piano- batterie en frénésies intimes demeure réalisable. Tout comme est possible qu'un percutant impose- impulse un rythme délicat et que s'y nichent les subtiles harmonies du contrebassiste. La pianiste n'a, alors, d'autre choix que de se jeter avec délectation en des saveurs implicites, inspirées. La ballade ne sera pas oubliée, elle s'entichera ici de dissymétrie, ailleurs de consonances. On flirtera avec les tempos rapides (merveilleux Peacock ici encore !) et on retrouvera l'axe méditatif du début. Le disque vient de s'achever et l'envie d'appuyer sur la touche replay est grand. Que de riches palettes ici! Pas de hiérarchies, juste des harmonies contagieuses, enchantées, pénétrantes. Grand disque tout simplement.

Qui ? Qui si ce n'est ces beaux enfoirés d'Intakt pour sortir un trio aussi excitant dans un silence assourdissant ? Parce que ce line up, avouons-le, ferait tressaillir n'importe quel dilettante moyen de jazz improvisé ; avec un petit moins pour l'Anglais Richard Poole à la batterie, un peu moins glorifié que les deux autres, sans que cela ne dise rien de son talent.
Présentation liminaire pour ceux qui ignoreraient encore qui sont ces gens-là. Journée de la femme (raaaaaah!) et galanterie obligent, débutons par Mrs Crispell. Du haut de ces quasi sept décennies, la pianiste américaine peut afficher sans rougir une discographie ponctuée de hauts faits – collaborations avec Tim Berne et Hamid Drake notamment, un beau duo avec Joseph Jarman il y a vingt ans déjà, et beaucoup de très bon en son nom seul: vraiment bien. Géomètre discrète et magistrale des musiques improvisées et free, Crispell n'en finit plus d'y apporter une voix singulière qui fait la part belle à un piano étonnamment mélodique, et de plus en plus lorsqu'on réécoute ses enregistrements plus proches de Cecil Taylor qui entamèrent sa carrière dans les années 80. Eloge de la lenteur et de la justesse, d'une déconstruction moins déstructurée peut-être (cela ne veut rien dire, oui), elle étale ici en confort une belle partition entièrement improvisée qui fait penser que même sans se renouveler moult, la pianiste reste une voix forte de ces scènes où elle fait figure depuis plusieurs années de figure tutélaire.

L'autre énormissime nom de ce trio, c'est bien sûr mister Peacock. Le paon qui ne fait jamais la roue mais étale quand même sa magnificence : dans cette roue indéchiffrable, des yeux qui sonnent comme une histoire du jazz depuis cinquante ans, le trio de Jarrett en tête mais surtout, à jamais, Albert Ayler. Et tant d'autres. Sur ce In Motion, Peacock continue son petit chemin de génie incandescent, en labourant sa basse d'attaques prodigieuses : ce son, mais ce son ! sur « Backseat of the Galaxy »... Et qu'est-ce que c'est que cette intro, là, en solo, pépère ? « Dichotomy » ? Ouais, je veux bien. Ce ne serait pas si beau... Ça dégoûterait... Sciant, le mec !

Concluons enfin le triptyque : Richard Poole, batteur de grande finesse, plus ''musiques improvisées'' que jazz quand même, mais pour la millième fois, on s'en bat l'oeil. Coupable de grâces féériques tout en touché (''Serakunda'', avec encore quelque chose comme de l'indicible de Peacock), le batteur semble parfois plus suspects de ronrons, comme d'ailleurs sa partenaire au piano, qui empêchent cet album d'atteindre l'éclat que promettait le line up, comme certains titres tout simplement géniaux. Une réserve aussi liée à des compositions parfois décevantes qui font alterner un lyrisme souvent un peu téléphoné avec des passages plus improvisés qui le sont également ; pour dévoiler au détour d'improvisations magistrales et de compositions à couper le souffle l'intérêt majeur d'un album qui eut mérité une finition meilleure pour rendre justice à la vérité, à l'être, à Dieu pour ceux que ça intéresse, à la beauté, à tout. D'où un constat de bourgeois : on se désole que ce très bel album ne soit pas magnifique. Et plus encore. Pour le plus encore, chacun décide. Moi, c'est illico Spiritual Unity, dont je ne comprends pas qu'on ait pas encore constitutionnellement obligé tout être humain à l'écouter une fois par mois.

http://www.djamlarevue.com/blog/2016/3/8/poole?rq=intakt

Richard Poole, Marilyn Crispell and Gary Peacock make for an uncommonly sympathetic trio. Crispell and Peacock have previously worked together as a duo and in a trio with Paul Motian, but Poole's spare drum style creates a different dynamic. On first listen, this seems to be very much a piano and bass record, with Poole's understated drumming bringing splashes of colour and subtle shading, but on closer attention, his contributions are revealed to be integral to the trio language, with his fluttering snare patterns and intricate hi-hat accents providing a multi-directional rhythmic drive.

Crispell opens proceedings by slowly unpicking a tight, pensive cluster on "Ahzan". Peacock comes in high up the neck, building momentum with passionate flamenco flourishes over Poole's tabla-like ripples. The trio head into more abstract territory with "Backseat Of The Galaxy", where Crispell's right hand negotiates odd intervals with a lucid calm. "Dichotomy" pivots between ruminative solo bass passages and violent eruptions of free piano and racing snares. What could be a potentially banal game of oppositions becomes an artful subversion of the trio format, with Crispell and Poole effectively becoming the rhythm section while Peacock takes on the melodic role, sketching blue Iberian moods. "In Motion” refines Crispell and Poole's rhythmic pairing into fast, sparring clusters and tightly coiled snare hits.

Elsewhere, the album finds Crispell and Peacock at their most lyrical. Taking her cues from Peacock's memorable vamps, Crispell invents some beautiful piano melodies, not least on "Blue Streets Up And Down", where a graceful Cuban theme blossoms from his oblique take on the "A Love Supreme" riff. "Isle Of Nowhere" is wistful and romantic, brushed drums rustling like autumn leaves beneath Crispell's delicate steps. Then there's the South African-tinged "Serakunda", where Peacock's syncopated bass line sets up graceful chordal work from Crispell. Rather than break into a solo, Crispell continues to comp, allowing the bassist to dance around the high notes. This trio is not afraid of thematic material, but by avoiding chord sequences or regular metre, their improvisations always sound beautifully open.

In Motion è un disco sorprendente, con cui la Marilyn Crispell oltrepassa il proprio orizzonte espressivo di riferimento. Sin dal brano iniziale, si ha la sensazione di ascoltare qualcosa di diverso rispetto ai suoi precedenti percorsi iconoclastici. Cambia l'aura, in continua oscillazione tra trame formali ed informali, tra fraseggio lirico e flusso ritmico fluttuante. Rimangono inalterati i procedimenti interpretativi, improntanti ad un sontuoso gioco di improvvisazione estemporanea.

Il CD lascia il segno per contenuti e modalità espressive, dove l'indeterminatezza regna comunque sovrana. In ogni brano proposto riluce una singola idea, nel segno della volatile progettualità. Emerge il fraseggio limpido e classico, seguito dall'andamento tempestoso e lo sviluppo fosco della cellula tematica.

C'è pure spazio per il tema reiterato di ascendenza monkiana e per il robusto swing di "Gary's Theme." Emerge una forza motoria tripartita, da cui fuoriesce un'essenza personale e geniale del fare musica. Una menzione merita Gary Peacock, della cui fantasia e ricchezza espressiva si rimane sempre ammirati.

Wie vertrauensvoll die Zusammenarbeit zwischen der Pianistin Marilyn Crispell und dem Bassisten Gary Peacock ist, zeigten die beiden Amerikaner ab 1997 auf drei Alben für ECM. Damals gehörte zweimal der Schlagzeuger Paul Motian dazu. Er verstarb vor fünf Jahren, und so heißt der neue dritte Mann Richard Poole. Der spielt zwar auch Piano, doch bei In Motion ist er ausschließlich am Schlagzeug zu hören. Bis auf Peacocks temperamentvoll groovender Komposition „Gary's Theme" widmet sich das Trio hier der frei improvisierten Musik. Deren Wesen ist es, dass nichts geplant ist, die Musiker zuvor nicht wissen, wohin ihre Reise geht. Allerdings können bestimmte Bezugspunkte bei so einem Projekt unterstützend wirken. Hier mag es der Aufnahmeort Woodstock, 200 Kilometer nördlich von New York, sein. In diesem kleinen Städtchen ist, trotz so mancher Touristen, die es auf den Spuren des einstigen Rockfestivals dorthin zieht, entspannte Ruhe angesagt. Darum verlegen Musiker gern ihre kreativen Arbeiten und Produktionszeiten in dieses Umfeld. So hielten es im November 2014 auch Crispell und Co., um sich in ihren improvisatorischen Interaktionen und Entdeckungsreisen nicht ablenken oder beeinflussen zu lassen. In neun, für Improvisationen eher kürzeren Stücken bis maximal sieben Minuten agieren die drei zwar wie langjährige Freunde, die alle Schliche und Geschichten der anderen kennen, verlassen sich aber nicht darauf, sondern wagen trotz der Vertrautheit auch die Kollision. Die muss hier nicht immer vordergründig dynamisch ausfallen. Doch wenn es in den überraschend melodiöseren Sequenzen auch mal spröder zugeht, dann stets voller gegenseitiger Neugierde.