is like monitoring an active volcano.”
–The New York Times
One of the few women to have headlined at New York’s famed Village Vanguard, Marilyn Crispell is a contemporary piano genius of many moods. As a decade-long member of Anthony Braxton’s incendiary quartet, she became known for coruscating, percussive solos, full of dense, ringing chords and lightning glissandos. At the same time that Braxton’s band was recording prolifically, Crispell was making her own albums for a succession of indie labels like Leo, FMP and Music & Arts. While her projects often documented her high-energy improvisational flights, they also captured her exploring pieces by Bill Evans, Duke Ellington and John Coltrane that displayed her gift for honing in on a melody with searing intensity.
In recent years, however, Crispell’s recordings for ECM have become increasingly introspective. Starting with 1997’s stunning Nothing Ever Was, Anyway, an album devoted to the ethereal compositions of Annette Peacock, she collaborated with drum legend Paul Motian on a series of contemplative, melodically rich trio sessions. It’s as if her explosive energy has been channeled into sustained lyricism. No less passionate or brave, her music now plumbs the depths of inner space. Her latest ECM release, Vignettes, is a ravishing solo album marked by her deep musical intuition and uncanny sense of narrative flow.






