Derel Monteith: Connemara: Solo Piano Improvisations
Derel Monteith

Derel Monteith Trio: Quantity of Life
Derel Monteith

Though pianist Derel Monteith's playing is highly appreciated in the Central Illinois area, the Peoria resident's less well-known beyond his home base. With any luck these sets, one a trio date and the other solo improvisations, will change that. No iconoclastic modernist, Monteith embraces a melody-driven style that's accessible but not pandering or cloying, and it's easy to imagine fans of Keith Jarrett's My Song and Chick Corea's Now He Sings, Now He Sobs responding positively to both Monteith releases.

Born and raised in Charlotte, North Carolina, the pianist, who acquired a music degree from the University of Miami and a law degree from the University of North Carolina, began performing professionally around 1990 and played in piano trios before establishing himself as an intellectual property lawyer in the late-‘90s. His appreciation for jazz and improvised music began during high school when a record store job introduced him to Jarrett and Miles Davis; later, his college years saw his appetite expand to pianists Hancock, Tyner, Monk, Corea, Kelly, and Evans, and composers such as Shorter, Strayhorn, Ellington, and Mingus. Being a configuration with which he's long been familiar, Monteith's especially comfortable in a trio, and that comfort level is clearly felt in the nine pieces performed with bassist Andy Crawford and drummer Jason Brannon. While the trio, which formed in 2015, does play classic rock covers and jazz standards besides Monteith originals, it's the latter that are featured on Quantity of Life.

His gift for engaging writing declares itself in the greasy opener “Trash Talk,” for which he drew for inspiration from a soulful blues style associated with a Mississippi region known as Hill Country and the kind of funky, R&B-influenced grooves heard in TV show themes from the ‘70s. Emblematic of his approach, the pianist keeps the focus on the melody, even if embellishments give the playing a loose, irreverent quality. Much as they do throughout the recording, Crawford and Brannon are with the leader at every step, supporting the vibe without overstepping. The leader's the primary soloist throughout, but the bassist and drummer also share the spotlight, Crawford's lovely solo during “In My Humble Opinion” a memorable example.

True to its title, “Folk Song” exudes a timeless character in the introductory section before the trio exchanges stately formality for a freer brand of jazz exploration, parts of it blues-inflected and, during Monteith's extensive solo passages, daringly free. Lending shape to the performance, the tune ends with a reprise of the original folk theme. One of the album's most appealing aspects is its range of moods and styles. In contrast to the sometimes brooding tone of “Folk Song,” singing melodies and a warm, gospel feel lift “Spirit and Solidarity” and “Taste & See,” whereas Monteith's lyrical ballad side is well-accounted for in the hymnal treatment given “In My Humble Opinion” and the quiet grandeur of the stirring title track. Witness the poise with which he embroiders the melody in the latter with rising arpeggios to gain some appreciation for the artistry of his playing.

While the song-like “Innocence” exudes childlike joy, “Downtown Creep” surprises by working a drum'n'bass-influenced groove into its arrangement, though it's quickly supplanted by a double-time jazz pulse for the piano solo. As commendable as the trio's playing is, I suspect it's Monteith's melody-rich writing that'll appeal to listeners most. It's that more than anything that makes Quantity of Life register as strongly as it does.

A satisfying companion to it is Connemara, five pieces of pure solo improvisation. Described as a “happy accident,” the material came about when microphone positions at the piano were being tested out for the trio date, the result recordings Monteith deemed appealing enough to warrant a separate release. A lifetime of listening and training interests emerges in the playing, with echoes of modern classical, New Age, Jarrett, and folk surfacing. By his own admission starting from nothing, each piece develops out of a textural or motivic element that ultimately gives shape to the performance.

The thirty-six-minute release reminds us that the rich, resonant sound of solo piano never gets old. One observes the creative process as it happens, Monteith thinking on his feet and choosing directions in real-time, whether it be meditatively during the ruminative rubato setting “Dovecote” or aggressively in the title track, the latter advancing in rapid runs characteristic of a free jazz approach before morphing into a rolling river of thick chords. “Rise & Repeat” chimes brightly, its percussive figures suggesting ties to modern classical music and American minimalism in particular. A faint trace of “Shenandoah” lurks in the background of “Where Old Men Gather,” whose poignancy's intensified with the awareness that Monteith recorded this tender ode on the first anniversary of his father's passing. Material of such quiet grandeur shows Connemara to be a substantial recording in its own right and not merely a footnote to Quantity of Life.

January 2020