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.