Ryan Blotnick: The Woods
Fishkill Records

Having titled his fifth album The Woods, it's only natural that the music Maine-based guitarist Ryan Blotnick crafted for it would invite associations with the American outdoors of Walden and Robert Frost as opposed to, say, the contemporary jazz one might encounter at a NYC club. Eschewing furious bop-styled playing for performances of a contemplative nature, Blotnick augments his guitar with the contributions of bassist Adam Chilenski, drummer Otto Hauser, and keyboardist Tyler G Wood. Helping to distinguish the project is the warmth of his organ, which gives The Woods a character unlike other guitar-fronted quartet releases on the market.

For the record, the album title derives from the name of the Woodstock recording studio where it was laid down in April 2024, though the surname of the keyboardist might have been a factor too. The woods also hold personal resonance for Blotnick in being a place where he immersed himself growing up and developed an appreciation for forest connections that might not be apparent on the surface but very definitely exist below. Such interconnectedness is a natural metaphor for the interactions that occur between musicians at a conscious level but also for the alchemical connections that accrue subconsciously when a state of deep immersion is collectively entered.

Stylistically, The Woods is far removed from present-day jazz or any of the strands emanating from it. A strong acoustic dimension informs the music, but emerging too, if subtly, are dashes of psychedelia, folk, and rock. Blotnick cites Bill Frisell, Kurt Rosenwinkel, Marc Ribot, Neil Young, Wes Montgomery, and Grant Green as influences on certain tracks, but had he included The Grateful Dead, Pat Metheny, and Van Morrison it wouldn't have at all surprised. The vibe nurtured throughout—mellow, receptive, and spontaneous—accords with the feel of the music those artists produce too. In this AI age, material generated live with the players in a shared space has never been more welcome.

As the opening “The Magic” illustrates, Blotnick favours a playing style that has more in common with Frisell than, say, Sonny Sharrock. Lyrical, textural, and tremulous, Blotnick's approach is painterly, and it's a sensibility clearly shared by his partners when Hauser's cymbal accented-groove animates Chilenski's acoustic bass and Wood's piano. “The Magic” is a fine enough scene-setter, but it's bettered by “Pecao,” which beguiles with a lilting, Mexican-flavoured swing and is elevated by a singing theme the leader voices with sensitivity to timbre and touch. Wood's percolating organ first provides a pleasing counterpoint and then arrests the ear during his freewheeling solo turn. It's not the only time the four hit that sweet spot.

The relaxed tempo at which “Cuyo” is delivered coaxes from Blotnick some lovely playing, Montgomery's influence audible in the smoothness of the guitarist's articulation. Inhabiting a similarly intimate jazz quartet mode is the Green-influenced “Smokey Corners,” which the four execute with calm authority. The radiant title cut sparkles in a manner reminiscent of Metheny, especially when the guitar tone and piano accompaniment call to mind the guitarist's wonderful days with Lyle Mays, Steve Rodby, and Paul Wertico. Rare for this release, the Ribot-influenced “Snowfields” kicks up dust with an aggressive, blues-rock-tinged attack that shows Blotnick can play with a harder edge when the mood strikes. Of lesser impact is the improv “Neptuno 2000” for lacking the melodic armature of the formally composed settings; the other improv, the meditative “Subnivean,” isn't without appeal, however.

May 2026