Yaron Herman is never where you expect him to be. He’s recently made a remarkable return to the traditional acoustic trio format (Songs of Degrees in 2019) and rediscovered the joys of interplay through two albums (Everyday, Y) through which the pianist made a conscious effort to open up to other musical aesthetics. However, this new record presents him in the studio, alone at the piano with no safety net, no preparation and no predefined concept. He resolutely plunges into his music sixteen years after his first solo album (Variations, 2006), exploring an array of styles that his listeners won’t be accustomed to hearing him play. In this minimalistic context, Yaron Herman surprises with this deliberately understated music. It’s characterised by a certain gentleness, unfolding its ever-changing and nuanced moods according to his frequently renewing inspiration. Intuitively passing from spontaneous, free improvisations to the more standard (and here, masterfully deconstructed) ‘All the Things You Are’; from pieces borrowed from Israeli popular music (‘Yesh Li Sikuy’ by Eviatar Banar) to a very moving reading of Gabriel Fauré’s ‘Après un rêve’, Yaron Herman offers up a brand of impressionist music that is overtly melancholic but always lyrical, projecting an inexhaustible melodic imagination. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

Piano/bass/drums trios are like small islands which are deserted in spirit and highly populated in reality. And jazz pianists can’t help but keep coming back to visit! Some even live there all year round. For Yaron Herman, playing as a trio means "freedom with constraints": make something new out of something old, don't simply copy the big names (Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett, Ahmad Jamal...), bend the rules by staying within them and, most importantly, have something to say. The Franco-Israeli jazzman is fully aware of the difficulty and ambiguity of the task. "As a trio, it is not easy to find new things, to make a melody sing, to come up with something moving or illuminating, to place yourself in space, sound and improvisation."Nine years after Follow the White Rabbit, Herman decided to "go back to basics" with this trio album. Songs of the Degrees won’t leave you indifferent. With drummer Ziv Ravitz (who has been by his side on his four previous records) and the Iranian-American double bassist Sam Minaie (Charlie Haden's former student who has worked extensively with Tigran Hamasyan) he has found a rhythmic dream team who understand his compositions perfectly. They are compositions that are reinforced with melodies that you’ll be whistling all day long, the kind that remain imprinted in your brain. What’s more, Yaron Herman displays his flair for the exceptional use of space and silence. It’s in those moments that his playing reaches an organic simplicity that makes Songs of the Degrees one of his most engaging albums yet. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz

Yaron Herman is never where you expect him to be. He’s recently made a remarkable return to the traditional acoustic trio format (Songs of Degrees in 2019) and rediscovered the joys of interplay through two albums (Everyday, Y) through which the pianist made a conscious effort to open up to other musical aesthetics. However, this new record presents him in the studio, alone at the piano with no safety net, no preparation and no predefined concept. He resolutely plunges into his music sixteen years after his first solo album (Variations, 2006), exploring an array of styles that his listeners won’t be accustomed to hearing him play. In this minimalistic context, Yaron Herman surprises with this deliberately understated music. It’s characterised by a certain gentleness, unfolding its ever-changing and nuanced moods according to his frequently renewing inspiration. Intuitively passing from spontaneous, free improvisations to the more standard (and here, masterfully deconstructed) ‘All the Things You Are’; from pieces borrowed from Israeli popular music (‘Yesh Li Sikuy’ by Eviatar Banar) to a very moving reading of Gabriel Fauré’s ‘Après un rêve’, Yaron Herman offers up a brand of impressionist music that is overtly melancholic but always lyrical, projecting an inexhaustible melodic imagination. © Stéphane Ollivier/Qobuz

Yaron Herman blends elements of jazz, classical, and the music of his native Israel in this intriguing trio session with bassist Chris Tordini and drummer Tommy Crane. The trio's delicious opener is "Follow the White Rabbit," which makes deft use of repeated riffs and often seems inspired by Keith Jarrett's trio recordings. His tense "Saturn Returns" defies categorization, as it freely draws from many diverse styles. Herman's solo piano vehicle "Cadenza" is dramatic with classical overtones, yet it sounds as if it were improvised on the spot in the studio. While there are no standards, Herman's inspired choice and tender interpretation of the neglected gem "Baby Mine" -- written by Frank Churchill and Ned Washington for the Disney film Dumbo -- will likely provoke others to seek overlooked tunes from other Disney musicals. Like many musicians of his generation, Herman is open to exploring rock as well. He has some success interpreting Radiohead's lyrical "No Surprises," though the repetitious nature of the late Kurt Cobain's "Heart Shaped Box" keeps it from reaching a similar peak, in spite of the pianist's best efforts. Recommended.© Ken Dryden /TiVo

Acoustic pianist Yaron Herman's introspective music has its moments of outspoken brilliance, energy bursts, and classical or Jewish heritage spilling into each other, although for the most part he keeps things relatively segregated in parsed segments. Each piece has its own identity, which makes it difficult for the category choosers to give him an overall sound print. Three selections do border on the chamber side of jazz with the complementary Quatuor Ébène string quartet, while the trio sides range from harder edged and jumpy lines to more beautiful, reverential elements. Drummer Gerald Cleaver is the perfect person to navigate all of these styles, while bassist Matt Brewer is always there, underneath the covers of this music, probing and prodding the note clusters or sage musings of the pianist, and contributes two compositions of his own. Not quite as thorny as the Bad Plus, but rivaling the stylistic carvings of Fahir Atakoglu, Aaron Parks, or even Keith Jarrett at times, Herman speaks firmly of his experience through music, perhaps in many instances parenthetically or paradoxically. The pianist is quite capable of frenetic activity, as heard during the imaginative "Vertigo" or heavily accented "Twins," where he approaches the intellectual pyrotechnics of Eldar Djangirov or Vijay Iyer. Then there's a lighter side via the waltz take of Dizzy Gillespie's famous "Con Alma," the slower, dark, and deliberate ballad of Brewer's "Joya," or the solo "Lu Yehi" which sounds like a Jewish prayer. The rambling "Lamidbar" is propelled by Cleaver's rolling drumming, a two-note bass ostinato, and Herman's free piano discourse, while "Perpetua" is quite similar to a Mahavishnu Orchestra signature stair step, circular line that never ends, ascends, nor descends in its mystery and intrigue. The string ensemble is used with utmost taste and elegance, especially on the title track, in a pretty but solemn emotion, while a version of Björk's "Isobel" contrasts tromping beats with delicate piano similar to the late Esbjörn Svensson's trio. You hear contemporary music to sing praises of, and sounds that spark curiosity as to the whys and wherefores of its being. Herman's liner notes try to explain that the music speaks for itself, then attempts to justify why. Perhaps it is that ethereal, elusive, inexplicable quality that transfers the aural plane into art without qualifiers. It's just a suggestion that this recording should be listened to completely in silence, sans outside distractions and chatter, for the music indeed has a language all its own, and stands up proudly.© Michael G. Nastos /TiVo

With Everyday, Yaron Herman links up with the prestigious Blue Note label. On this album, the pianist forms a duo with percussionist and drummer Ziv Ravitz, with whom he has already frequently collaborated (most notably on the Alter Ego album, released in 2012). The disc is an opus on which Herman’s two major concerns - writing and improvisation - are used as part of a perfect dialogue with his sparring partner. Despite his evident thematic understanding and strength in improvisation, Herman came to the piano late. Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett, and Bud Powell feed this album, but Herman has also never stopped revisiting classic songs by Björk, The Police, Jeff Buckley, and Britney Spears. On Everyday, day and night are signalled by the twin totems of Alexander Scriabin and James Blake, who represent opposite, eclectic, furious passions. Passions that have rarely been as well served as on this album.

Piano/bass/drums trios are like small islands which are deserted in spirit and highly populated in reality. And jazz pianists can’t help but keep coming back to visit! Some even live there all year round. For Yaron Herman, playing as a trio means "freedom with constraints": make something new out of something old, don't simply copy the big names (Bill Evans, Keith Jarrett, Ahmad Jamal...), bend the rules by staying within them and, most importantly, have something to say. The Franco-Israeli jazzman is fully aware of the difficulty and ambiguity of the task. "As a trio, it is not easy to find new things, to make a melody sing, to come up with something moving or illuminating, to place yourself in space, sound and improvisation."Nine years after Follow the White Rabbit, Herman decided to "go back to basics" with this trio album. Songs of the Degrees won’t leave you indifferent. With drummer Ziv Ravitz (who has been by his side on his four previous records) and the Iranian-American double bassist Sam Minaie (Charlie Haden's former student who has worked extensively with Tigran Hamasyan) he has found a rhythmic dream team who understand his compositions perfectly. They are compositions that are reinforced with melodies that you’ll be whistling all day long, the kind that remain imprinted in your brain. What’s more, Yaron Herman displays his flair for the exceptional use of space and silence. It’s in those moments that his playing reaches an organic simplicity that makes Songs of the Degrees one of his most engaging albums yet. © Marc Zisman/Qobuz