Miguel Castro & Pieternel Van Oers – East Of The Moon

There are two ways of entering into music: adding knowledge to knowledge, developing one’s knowledge to the point of increasing the pleasure felt when listening to a referenced work; or abandoning, forgetting, omitting references to the skills deployed to better appreciate the sensitivity of the artists, as a child would.

Pieternel Van Oers and Miguel Castro‘s new project is unquestionably in this latter vein, where it is necessary to recover a certain innocence of becoming in order to better let oneself be carried away by the flow of melodic ideas ginned up by the two musicians.

It would no doubt be a little too obvious to gloss over the Dutch origins of the pianist or the Chilean roots of the guitarist, but the heart of this music lies rather in the particular sensibility of the two instrumentalists, and in this respect, the duo offers something for every listener.

The real epitome of the recorded work lies in its resolutely acoustic character, and in its classical influences, which a track like “Echi”, by pianist Enrico Pieranunzi, illustrates quite well through the nostalgia it is imbued with, against a backdrop of minor chords that combine broken and diminished scales, with a contribution by Miguel Castro that takes the composition to the lands of Charlie Haden and Pat Metheny’s “Beyond The Missouri Sky”.

Richie Beirach’s “Elm” evokes Bill Evans, of course, but also the world of John Abercrombie and Ralph Towner.

As for Brooks Bowman’s “East Of The Sun”, it clearly encapsulates the essence of the standard that gave rise to the album’s name, “East Of The Sun and West Of The Moon”, with its close ties to Chet Baker’s vocal repertoire and suave jazz (the record’s eponymous first track is called “East Of The Moon”).

The first thing that strikes you, listening to all the tracks on the album, is Pieternel Van Oers‘s particularly sensitive touch, with a precision fueled by solid musical rigor and a perfectly integrated freedom of form and figure that only jazz and improvised music can guarantee music lovers.

Miguel Castro, for his part, doesn’t use too many easily identifiable references, even if he does draw inspiration from the career of musicians such as Julian Lage or Peter Bernstein, in favor of a musician’s universe with an artistic vision, which may also bring to mind Bill Frisell.

The melodic talent of the two performers brings us closer to Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett or Fred Hersh, given the intimate atmosphere that surrounds the compositions, most of which come from the pen of Pieternel Van Oers, which in no way prevents each of the two musicians from questioning the discourse of the other, allowing him to access the full exercise of his expression and sensitivity.

In this sense, one of the most apt comparisons seems to be the collaboration between Gary Burton and Chick Corea on the “Duet” album.

There’s as much strength as sensitivity here, miniatures brought to their subtlest point of completion, affirming the passage from vulnerability to sublimation, from movement to happy metamorphosis, devoid of any seductive intent.

This is positive music, with a few stormy nuances, which the duet introduces no doubt to underline the blossoming of an authentic, sincere moment of grace.