Satoko Fujii’s Hundredth Album as Leader

Back in 2018 my schedule was richly occupied with month-by-month releases in Satoko Fujii’s “Kanreki Cycle” conceived to honor the year of her 60th birthday. Completing that cycle near the end of the month of December left me with a refreshing sense of accomplishment. Yesterday, however, turned out to address another landmark in Fujii’s career as an adventurous jazz pianist. The release of Hyaku: One Hundred Dreams marked the 100th album in which she served as a leader.

She celebrated the making of this album in the good company of eight other musicians that contributed to this album. As expected, one of them was her husband and trumpeter Natsuki Tamura. However, a particularly outstanding member of her company for this occasion was another trumpeter, Wadada Leo Smith. I was also particularly impressed with the presence of bassoonist Sara Schoenbeck (whose name I cannot read without thinking of Sol Schoenbach, who served as Principal Bassoon for the Philadelphia Orchestra between 1937 and 1957). Schoenbeck’s improvisations explore landscapes of sonorities, which can be both lyrical and spooky, consistently making for any number of treats for the attentive listener.

The combo also includes two drummers, Tom Rainey and Chris Corsano, both of whom have highly inventive tastes in polyrhythms. Brandon Lopez fills out the rhythm section on bass, while the front line also includes saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock. The remaining member of the group is Ikue Mori. Readers may recall his imaginative work with electronics on Prickly Pear Cactus, a trio album in which he performed with both Fujii and Tamura. His presence on the new Hyaku album is as inventive in a large chamber ensemble as it is in filling out a trio.

The entire album consists of five tracks, each labeled simply from “Part One” to “Part Five.” The transitions between these parts, all of durations between ten and sixteen minutes, are smooth, most evident in shifts of instrumentation and free-wheeling solo takes. (To some extent, one can approach the “master plan” of this performance in the same way that one approaches John Coltrane’s Ascension recording.) The entire album was recorded on this past September 20 at the DiMenna Center for Classical Music, which is part of the Baryshnikov Arts Center complex in Manhattan.

What I find most memorable is how, on this celebration recording of a personal achievement, Fujii allocated much of the duration to extended solos by her colleagues. The result for the listener is an experience that explores both breadth and depth in equal measure. Furthermore, since the entire recording was made on a single day, it is likely that much, if not all, of the participants served up a virtual parade of spontaneities, lengthy enough that one is likely to capture the spirit of the music in full only after several listening experiences. Indeed, that was how members of my generation learned how to get their respective heads around Ascension!