Stefano travaglini - Monk (2020)

A classic jazz album from the 1950s was titled “The Unique Thelonious Monk”. Rarely has an adjective been more apt, for Monk’s remarkable body of compositions took jazz through a prism rarely approached before. Monk’s cryptic instructions to his musicians—“use the melody”; “don’t play bebop on my tunes”—only scared away generations of jazz musicians from exploring his music. Monk’s percussive approach to the keyboard was initially dismissed as faulty technique, but it eventually influenced every pianist who tried to perform his work. If that sounds like a grand overstatement, just compare virtually every other jazz recording of a Monk composition to the distinctive approach heard on the enclosed CD. Now to be sure, there’s nothing artistically wrong with performing Monk in a forceful manner—obviously, both the composer and the jazz musicians who followed him prefer it that way—but what if we took away that percussive element and examined Monk’s music as pure music? After all, surprising and enlightening results have come when taking music out of its traditional element (think of the Swingle Singers’ recordings of Bach). The music of Thelonious Monk deserves—and could well benefit—from this kind of artistic scrutiny.