Lalo Schifrin: Piano Works

Album review

The first meeting between Mirian Conti and Lalo Schifrin dates back to 1985, when the virtuoso pianist performs, under the direction of the Master, the Piano Concerto No. 2: The Americas in Los Angeles. With this Piano Works, the sparks created by this concert transform, 32 years later, into a bonfire that celebrates first of all Argentina. The country of the bandoneon plays an important role in this album: not only are the two headliners two local icons, but furthermore, the program most often celebrates the traditions of this country, in particular the lively Danza de los montes, as well as the serenely melancholic Pampas. The first track is inspired by Chacarera folk dances from the North-East of the country, while the second one depicts the landscapes of the Atlantic Coast. The Argentinian flavor can be felt, of course, in the rewriting of the music from Tango, Carlos Saura’s movie released in 1998, and that the composer wrote at the time during a flight taking him from America to Europe. But this disc isn’t only looking inward, far from it, since Lalo Schifrin is a composer of international caliber, open to every style: other than his Parisian musical education with Olivier Messiaen (whose influence can be felt in the complete harmonies of the Jazz piano sonata, written in 1963), Schifrin is obviously known for his Hollywood movie scores (from Bullitt to Dirty Harry to Mannix to the famous Mission: Impossible, which incidentally is the opening track of this album). He also had his French era (Les Félins) and even his Hong-Kong one (Enter the Dragon). This jazzy sonata also gives Mirian Conti an opportunity to highlight his sense of rhythm, one of his strong points. Schifrin’s musical curiosity also expresses itself—strongly—in the Theme And 10 Variations On An Original Theme, which, in a half classical half jazz spirit, reminds of his crossover approach in his succession of albums Jazz Meets Symphony, released in the 1990s by Aleph Records. The variations from this suite that lasts more than eleven minutes notably paraphrase Beethoven, Mozart, Stravinsky and Chopin. Let’s finally cite the two quieter tracks that close the album, and which, even if less complex than the others, show the melodic and popular warmth of Schifrin’s style: first La calle y la luna, which gives the impression of having been composed in real time, as if it were an improvisation. Then Lullaby For Jack, a lullaby that the octogenarian wrote for his two-year old grandson. It’s a charming way for him to take his leave of the listener, in the perfectly serene spirit of a man in his twilight years. © NM/Qobuz