Rose Dos Ventos
Rose Dos Ventos (“Wind Rose,” or weather vane) continues Anat’s kindred-spirit collaboration with Trio Brasileiro, with the album’s title hinting at the way fresh inspirations pass into their music like a breeze.
They previously paired up for the 2015 Anzic album Alegria da Casa. In the liner essay to that first album, Brazilian pianist Jovino Santos Neto wrote about how the sound of these musicians playing together transports him not to a concert hall but “to a happy gathering of friends in botequim, or corner bar in a small Brazilian town, where everyone takes part in the roda, or circle of musicians.”
Formed in 2011, Trio Brasileiro is dedicated to performing traditional choro music as well as their own compositions that put a contemporary spin on choro. The group comprises percussionist Alexandra Lora (whose array includes the pitched “hand pan”), Douglas Lora (a member of the award-winning Brasil Guitar Duo) and Duda Maia, one of Brazil’s finest mandolinists (who plays a special 10-string bandolim on Rose Dos Ventos.
The word translates as “cry” – developed in late 19th-century Rio much like its cousin jazz in New Orleans, with Brazilian musicians combining such traditional European dance forms as the polka, waltz and mazurka with African and South American rhythms. Again, like jazz, choro became a vehicle for improvisers.
For the Rose Dos Ventos sessions, the foursome lived together for a week in Brasilia, inventing freely and recording at Maia’s home studio. They built on the more traditional choro sounds of Alegria da Casa, re-imagining the music with original compositions by Anat and each member of the trio that incorporate far-flung influences, including from Spain (“Flamenco”) and India (“O Ocidente Que Se Oriente”) as well as the worlds of salsa (“Das Neves”) and even rock (the dramatic “Rosa Dos Ventos”).
There is plenty of effervescence (“Baião Da Esperança,” “Ijexá”) and bitter sweetness (“Teimosa,” “Pra Você, Uma Flor”), as well as lively virtuosity (“Choro Pesado,” “Valsa Do Sul”).
The arrangements are textured throughout, with Anat’s lyricism a key voice whether adding beguiling touches to “Lulubia” (“Lullaby”) or improvising “Sambalelê” as a virtual solo over a spare backdrop of percussion.