Piano and Reed in Conversation
Melford and Ehrlich circle each other across these pieces like two voices discovering what they can build together.
Myra Melford and Marty Ehrlich recorded Yet Can Spring (2001) as a duo, two musicians working in close quarters with nowhere to hide. That intimacy defines everything on the record. With only piano and reeds in the room, there's no rhythm section to anchor the conversation, no drums to keep time. Instead, Melford and Ehrlich had to listen harder to each other, respond faster, trust the other person's instinct about where a phrase should go or when silence mattered more than sound.
Melford had already established herself as a pianist unafraid to fracture traditional jazz language—approaching the keyboard as a toolkit for sounds rather than a vehicle for bebop vocabulary. Ehrlich brought his own restless energy across multiple woodwinds, moving between soprano saxophone, alto, and clarinet depending on what each piece demanded. The best tracks here feel genuinely conversational: Ehrlich will state something angular and severe, Melford responds with dissonant clusters or fragmented arpeggios, and the two of them build a small architecture together before stepping back to let it breathe.
This is not a piano-and-saxophone record in any traditional sense. There's no swinging groove, no head-and-solos structure. Instead these pieces unspool as explorations, sometimes lyrical, sometimes abrasive, always alert to what the other musician is offering. For listeners already invested in Melford's approach to the piano, this is essential—a chance to hear her move without accompaniment, without arrangement. For those new to her work, it's a harder entry point than a trio record would be, but it rewards the attention.
Who's playing
Myra Melfordpiano
Marty Ehrlichreeds
