by Steph Cosme
Silvano Monasterios’ The River is a Latin jazz album created as a meditation on identity, culture, and the unbroken current of rhythm that ties one generation to another. Monasterious presents seven compositional structures for ensemble interplay. The result is The River vibrates with cultural resonance, textural storytelling, and the way its sound world invites musicians and listeners into an experience of flow. In this suite, the clave is the river itself, its pulse the current, its variations the shifting banks, its persistence the mark of life and continuity.
Every one of the suite’s seven movements carries with it the unmistakable imprint of Latin America, not in overt gestures or pastiche, but in the deeper architecture of rhythm. Monasterios writes and improvises in the language of jazz, with every phrase being cradled by the clave. It is a pulse that moves the music forward, steady as a tide, while leaving room for the ensemble to speak in multiple voices. The river here is not abstract as it is rooted in cultural memory, in the dance rhythms and folk cadences of Venezuela, reframed through modern jazz harmony. To hear The River is to recognize that jazz and Latin America are not separate tongues but dialects of the same conversation.
What makes this suite compelling is the ensemble’s rhythm and the way Monasterios orchestrates timbre. Néstor Torres’ flute rises like a bird in flight, especially luminous in “Carmen Elena” and “The River Between Us.” Jeff Lederer’s clarinet and bass clarinet ground the ensemble with woody resonance in “The River (Opening)” and “Against the Current,” anchoring the river’s depth. Alex Norris’ trumpet and flügelhorn break through with a burnished cry in “Against the Current.” Troy Roberts’ tenor saxophone speaks with emotional weight in “Ambar’s Courage” and surges with energy in “The River Between Us.” Juan Diego Villalobos’ vibraphone shimmers across moving water in “Carmen Elena” and adds glowing resonance to “Ambar’s Courage.” Ricky Rodriguez’s bass provides the deep current beneath, notably lyrical in “Dance on the Wire” and foundational in “The River (Opening).” Luisito Quintero’s percussion layers folkloric texture over the ensemble, especially vital in “Carmen Elena” and “Ambar’s Courage.” And finally, Jimmy MacBride’s drumming is an ever-present current of rhythm. His voice comes to the fore in the closing of “The River Between Us,” where his elegant, textural solo over a montuno figure crystallizes the album’s theme of flow and collective momentum.
The metaphor of the river is constant but never static. In Monasterios’ hands, it becomes the very energy that binds us. At times it flows gently, as in the solo piano meditation “Ambar,” a reflective pool of stillness. Elsewhere, it surges forward, as in “Ambar’s Courage,” where Roberts’ tenor saxophone rides the current with a voice that is flowing and stirring. Always, the clave remains: the invisible but essential flow guiding the listener. The river is natural and human, a reminder that rhythm itself is life, and that we move together within its current.
For those encountering Monasterios’ work for the first time, “The River (Opening)” is the gateway. Structured like a miniature suite, it introduces the ensemble’s personalities one by one, piano, reeds, trumpet, flute, percussion, while establishing the thematic river motif. It offers a model of how composition can balance thematic development, improvisation, and textural layering. The music is inviting, guiding listeners into the flow of the ensemble.
The clarity of the recording, engineered by Aaron Nevezie with assistance from Nolan Tries, shapes the listening experience too. Instruments are placed with precision in the stereo field, allowing listeners to follow each contrapuntal line. Solos emerge with presence but never at the expense of ensemble interplay. The rhythm section is supporting beneath, never submerged. This balance of clarity and space makes the album a joy in immersive listening. The River is a suite where culture, rhythm, and orchestration converge into a singular narrative. Silvano Monasterios has created a work that is rooted in Venezuelan identity and expansive in its embrace of jazz’s global language. It teaches, it moves, it paints, and it flows. That’s the short of it!
