Louis Moholo refused to meet the piano head-on, instead detailing its every move with propellent broken pulses.
What makes Remembrance distinct in Cecil Taylor's vast catalog is Louis Moholo's saxophone approach. Taylor's piano can overwhelm — it's relentless, torrential, a force that demands submission. Moholo chose differently. Instead of trading blows or matching intensity, he shadowed the piano, raced around its corners, embellished its colors. He moved perpendicular to power, which created something the discography had not quite heard before.
Recorded live in Berlin on July 3, 1988, this is not a typical Taylor session. The pianist's vision dominates most of his recordings, but here Moholo's restraint became the counterweight. He kept perpetual motion without stress — broken pulses that propelled rather than collided. The result is a conversation that feels less like argument and more like detail work, texture painted over architecture.
Both AllMusic and The Penguin Guide to Jazz Recordings recognized this with their highest marks. For listeners familiar with Taylor's solo work or his more confrontational ensembles, Remembrance offers proof that his music could breathe differently when paired with a player willing to listen rather than match his intensity. It's a late-career session, but one where restraint and response matter as much as the leader's relentless pursuit.