The Irish Times reviews a jazz concert in Dun Laoghaire

Bobo Stenson Trio

Pavilion, Dún Laoghaire

One of the excitements of jazz is in witnessing the evolution of a working group of the calibre of the Bobo Stenson Trio. The trio, with Stenson's long-time colleague, bassist Anders Jormin, and drummer Jon Fält, made its Irish debut at the John Field Room almost four years ago. The boyish Fält had just replaced Jon Christensen, the drummer in the pianist's first great trio, and was clearly feeling his way into the challenging musical intimacy already shared by Stenson and Jormin. Equally clearly, they expected great things of him.

They haven't been disappointed. A subsequent visit and, now, this memorable concert, show that he has become an integral element in the trio's interplay, bringing a range of colour to the group's work as well as the ability to drive it forcefully without upsetting its internal balance.

As Fält has settled, the trio itself has also become more adventurous - not that Stenson or Jormin were ever conservative musicians. The opening Seli revealed several facets of the trio's capacity, with its free rubato interaction, somewhat ascetic in feel, eventually resolved, via a haunting bass solo, into a warm, song-like piano solo in medium tempo.

An Ornette Coleman piece, A Fixed Goal, provided a reference point without the encumbrance of harmonic or rhythmic restrictions - from the freely improvised opening, the trio had much creative fun with the material. Another Coleman piece, Race Face, was used to close the set and showcase Fält's capabilities.

But the trio can also call on a deeply affecting lyricism, evident in the rubato build-up to Jormin's M, a beautiful piece, almost medieval in feel, which inspired superb piano and bass solos. And it was there, too, in an exploration of Purcell's Music For A While, which the trio managed to respect while drawing it into their own musical world.

That aspect of their lyricism was contrasted with the sheer exuberance and invention of El Mayorand Chiquilin De Bachin, and the controlled brio of the encore, Don's Kora Song. It was the kind of ebullient grooving so characteristic of jazz at its best, but in its subtle dynamics it was also somehow a very European take on the idiom.

RAY COMISKEY