Uli Datler - Dancing Shape

'Whereof one cannot speak, thereof one must be silent.' What Ludwig Wittgenstein has formulated so superbly - granted, in a different context - could also be said of pianist Uli Datler. He is not one of those musicians who heap on blathering, prettified cascades of notes. Quite the contrary: each one of his notes has it's place, and he knows the significance of the silences between them. A Dancing Shape, his debut album, is the impressive proof of his artistry. Uli Datler crafts his compositions with a strong sense of form. The frequently contrapuntal treatments of his themes are interrupted by rapid runs, as if Datler were compelled to throw in an aside. In his solo passages, the Viennese pianist proves to be a shrewd elocutionist. He gently unleashes his initial 'words' and 'phrases' into the room, then condenses them, digs deep, and expounds on them until he reaches a meaningful statement. In short, Uli Datler is a musician who has something to say and who also knows how to say it: sometimes hesitantly, sometimes with gentle insistence, with irascible passion, or with restrained lyricism. In collaboration with Alexander Lackner (bass) and Christian Grobauer (drums), the pianist is revealing fresh, original facets of the piano trio, a form that is often reputed to be dead.