Wollny and Simcock wow Watermill Jazz
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
The last time German pianist Michael Wollny played here was just over a year ago with his trio.

The band had not long released their widely-applauded Weltentraum record, and their live account of it that night ripped the roof of this humble venue, leaving members of the audience breathless and overwhelmed as they queued in the corridor afterwards to get the said album signed.
Whether sweet, swinging, up-tempo or uptight, Wollny's music never fails to embrace his audience, and tonight's show, a rare duo piano performance with British great Gwilym Simcock, was no exception. To pin-drop silence from a packed house circling two full-size grands, Simcock began alone, laying down dark chords to suspend wild, dramatic runs over a sluggish and disjointed 'Every Time We Say Goodbye'. An untitled tribute to Chick Corea was born out of this, more spirited and samba-like with the young pianist now slamming two-octave riffs hard over a galloping left hand bass line.
Brushing with baroque through his own 'Renaissance Refrain', Simcock's ornate classical side also shone, intensifying when challenged or provoked by Wollny's more oblique, penetrative style. During the pair's first conversation of the evening, 'Spring Time', a cyclic, chugging bass part rotated between each pianist, leaving the other to either embellish the melody or add something more percussive. This see-saw-like dialogue between the two made for some riveting, edge-of-your-seat entertainment, particularly over sombre ballad 'A Joy Forever' or the brisk 'Barber Blues' – a tribute to American composer Samuel Barber – which found Simcock building violent crescendos inside a 16-bar blues progression, and Wollny inside the lid of his piano, dampening notes and vibrating pint glasses off the strings, throwing an eerie, tinny din around the room.
Following a brief interval, Wollny's solo set into the second half hung around seductive melodies often as crooked as his posture at the piano. Under a strip of dim lights, he established the theme of a creeping 'There Again' from notes left dangling from of a dotty improv he jokingly titled 'Dorking'. There were gasps from surrounding rows as this sudden flip from the frantic to serene momentarily left the pianist in a prolonged silence, save for the sound of some soft, tinkering notes, the persistent purr of the hall's heating and the faint clacking of snooker balls heard from the adjacent bar.
The ambiance in the hall soon altered as Simcock returned to the stage, swapping ends and instruments with his rock star-haired associate to hammer out a heavy 'Hexentanz' (Witch Dance). Long and often dissonant, Wollny's piece would test the endurance of those in the audience preferring to recline into the loose and lyrical reading of John Taylor's 'Ambleside Suite', a touching tribute to the late pianist, with whom both had studied under early in their careers. It was over Taylor's tune that each pianist really stretched their skills as swingers too, dancing excitedly atop fast -fingered boogie-woogie lines and soulful, swelling gospel chords with equal aplomb.
Having played for over two hours, this exclusive keys engagement would eventually end with two more Wollny tunes, subtle swinger 'Fatigue' and the infectious 'Weird Shoes', a Latin-riffed swinger with enough energy and conviction to licence some lightning-fast fours, two long dramatic solos and one hell of an applause from this audience, once again breathless and overwhelmed.
– Mark Youll
– Photos by Jon Frost