Julia Hülsmann Quartet
Under The Surface

Julia Hülsmann piano
Uli Kempendorff tenor saxophone
Marc Muellbauer double bass
Heinrich Köbberling drums
with
Hildegunn Øiseth trumpet, goat horn
Recorded June 2024 at Rainbow Studio, Oslo
Engineer: Martin Abrahamsen
Cover photo: Thomas Wunsch
Produced by Thomas Herr
Release date: January 31, 2025

To the well-oiled machine that is the Julia Hülsmann Quartet is added a seamless recruit in the form of Norwegian trumpeter Hildegunn Øiseth, who joins pianist Hülsmann, saxophonist Uli Kempendorff, bassist Marc Muellbauer, and drummer Heinrich Köbberling for half of a fresh in-house setlist. After the trumpeter played with the quartet live in Berlin in 2023, the idea for an album was sparked, and so, Under The Surface was born.

But it’s the quartet under the banner of Hülsmann’s pen in “They Stumble, They Walk” that the album shows us just how much she and her bandmates can swing with their eyes closed. Her almost nonchalant colorations from the keyboard elicit atmospheric veracity from the start, setting the stage against a light-footed rhythm section for Kempendorff’s equally effortless freestyling. The result is a sound that is as hip as it is informed by the rudiments, paying homage to both melody and groove, and never letting go of either.

Most of the core band material is also composed by the pianist, including “Anti Fragile,” a geometrically inflected romp that recalls the work of Vijay Iyer, and “Trick,” an especially propulsive experience in which the composer turns up the heat without ever losing control. The same applies to Kempendorff, whose more fragile lines are no less fortified. His tenoring traces a robust mood throughout his “Milkweed Monarch,” yielding a solo highlight from Muellbauer before tapering off into an almost subliminal ending. The bassist’s own “Second Thoughts” is a master class in self-examination built on subtle drum work.

Muellbauer also contributes to the program portions with Øiseth, whose soloing in “Nevergreen” brings the wind to the proverbial earth and fire. Whether in “May Song” and “Bubbles” (both by Köbberling), one a tone poem and the other featuring a turn on goat horn for a dollop of farm-to-table lyricism, or in “The Earth Below,” a duet with Hülsmann, she understands how to abide by a melody while still being free and true to herself. Like a candle that must remain lit, she cups her hands around the flame to keep it lit. And in the concluding title track, she soars overhead newly invigorated, ready for the next adventure.

Of all the Hülsmann albums to grace the ECM catalog thus far, I’d say this one has the most variety. There is also a sense of camaraderie that only deepens with each new release, and in this instance, it practically leaps from the speakers and envelops you in a warm embrace.