We introduced Greek pianist Tania Giannouli to our readers in 2020 with the release of her unusual trio album, In Fading Light. In that review, we talked about Giannouli's creative path, her attraction to unusual sound combinations in her bands, about the fact that she released all her albums on the New Zealand label Rattle Records. Perhaps only fidelity to the logo of this company unites her new recording with previous releases, as this project has a short and comprehensive name: Solo, and Tania has only one partner here: her instrument.
An album of solo piano music can be challenging. Firstly, it's a challenge for the author and performer. But Giannuli is ready for it: "Playing solo is the most liberating thing in the world for me. Being alone with the instrument, you experience an incredible sense of freedom. But at the same time, there is nothing more binding than a solo performance. Staying on stage alone, you are forced to be sincere, not to keep silent or imitate anything, and to allow yourself to be vulnerable. And if a person is honest, it gives them strength. Solo is a very personal project, it's stories that you tell frankly, and I hope that the audience will accept and appreciate it, with their minds and hearts."
Well, beautifully said - and beautifully and powerfully played. The album has a very voluminous program: 24 tracks and 72 minutes of sound. At the same time, the compositions themselves are often small, some a little over a minute, sometimes less. The longest, Novelette, lasts for seven minutes. I have already used this literary comparison, but it is appropriate to repeat in relation to this work: Solo resembles a collection of talented stories, like Chekhov or Borges, each with its own plot, mood, and colours. The mysterious Metal Snake gives way to the romantic Black Sea; the bizarre plot of Out Of contrasts with the swiftness of Spiral and the fatal predestination of Folegandros. My favourite composition, Intone, is reminiscent of a mini-suite in sober movements with a touching, slightly oriental introduction, a rigidly anxious middle part, and catharsis in the finale.
I haven't said anything about the style of this work so far. To be honest, analysing Tania's music is the last thing you think about. Only then, in hindsight, do you realize that the academic and jazz components in this music are merged in such a way that it is impossible to separate them from each other. This is a synthesis here that many dream of, but few realise. Tania Giannouli has done it!