Crispell and Schweizer have collaborated in many contexts—this must be one of the most powerful.
The centerpiece of Double Trouble Two (1998) is the collision between Irène Schweizer and Marilyn Crispell, two of jazz's most formidable pianists, deployed not as soloists trading turns but as a dual force within Barry Guy's sprawling 47-minute composition. This is not two pianists taking solos; they occupy the same harmonic and rhythmic space, sometimes locked in agreement, sometimes in productive conflict. What makes it work is that neither defers to the other. Schweizer brings a grounded, blues-inflected vocabulary honed through decades of free improvisation in Europe. Crispell arrives with harmonic density and classical training. In a conventional ensemble setting, that might create confusion. Here, under Guy's architectural vision, it creates texture and depth.
The London Jazz Composers Orchestra surrounds them with strings and winds that respond to rather than lead the pianists' choices. Pierre Favre on drums provides a moving target—never settling into a groove, always alert to what the ensemble is doing. The Penguin Guide gave it four stars and called it a culminating moment for the group, and that assessment holds weight. This is not a record for casual listening. The piece unfolds deliberately, and the ensemble's discipline serves Guy's compositional ambition rather than conventional song structure or solos.
Recorded in Zürich in December 1995 and released three years later on Intakt, Double Trouble Two sits comfortably with the LJCO's strongest work—not a debut statement but a refinement of what the orchestra had learned to do. AllMusic reviewer Steve Loewy noted the performances were filled with remarkable moments and the ensemble work bordered on the spectacular. For listeners comfortable with through-composed large-scale jazz and patient enough to let the piece breathe, this is essential. For everyone else, it remains a committed ensemble's most ambitious statement.