Pipe Dream
Hank Roberts cello and vocals
Filippo Vignato trombone
Pasquale Mirra vibraphone
Giorgio Pacorig piano and fender rhodes
Zeno De Rossi drums
"Sometimes unconventional jazz recordings, different from all the others, happen to be released: you instantly realize you are being thrown into another dimension. Convinced you are facing a little door like many others, you open it almost absent-mindedly and find yourself on a road full of hidden corners, sudden turns, unexpected views, so different from one another that you forget where you were just a moment earlier. This is Pipe Dream.”
Worldwide release: September 7, 2018
Sometimes unconventional jazz recordings, different from all the others, happen to be released: you instantly realize you are being thrown into another dimension. Convinced you are facing a little door like many others, you open it almost absent-mindedly and find yourself on a road full of hidden corners, sudden turns, unexpected views, so different from one another that you forget where you were just a moment earlier. And you just want to explore, venture into that mysterious, mystic cloud called Summer Prayer, a mood that turns dream-like and magical with Looking For Home. But you don’t really have the time to get enchanted before you find yourself among playful, somewhat clownish characters, whose names are Vibraphone, Trombone, Piano, Cello and Drums joking around with one another and interacting in They Were Years. But then you leave them behind because you fall in love with Pictures, a short, tender, moony tune. And so, with your head a bit in the clouds, you move on to listen to an almost, not quite blues track, for it is multifaceted and called Pipe Dream, Pipe Dream being a name, not a title. From that dream to the spacey country music in Sam (for Sam Amidon), is a short step, just a little, but crucial turning point. By going forward, farther, you find yourself deep into the solemn, slow pace of First, a necessary oasis to withstand the following impact with the (seemingly) wild confusion in Fermati. The graceful, fascinating, bright melancholy in White Giant carries you away from that brief, beneficial chaos and so, flying, clinging to an ethereal white rhino, you land on Cayuga, a beach that is lazy, calm but blazing with all the colors of the sunset. But wasn’t it just a little door that you opened just an hour ago?
