Collab / Hamilton De Holanda and Gonzalo Rubalcaba

The first impression left by an album as unusual as Collab is a bit dichotomous: you feel either admiration or genuine bewilderment. And maybe both, because it contains something that every good artist should, at any risk, offer: versatility. Hamilton de Holanda and Gonzalo Rubalcaba worked together in Irmã de Leonfrom the album Samurai, released by the Brazilian in 2023, and this time they bring a repertoire of incredible elasticity that pays homage to both classic and contemporary themes. 

The instrumental version of Incompatibility of Gênios as operture is completely intentional and a preview of what we will hear next. In the almost eight minutes, Rubalcaba evokes his remote nights at Jazz Plaza in 1986 -when he recorded with the legend of the genre Dizzy Gillespie-, while De Holanda shines as a modern day chorõe. The song is an original by João Bosco and shows the talent of both for cover versions, which is the backbone of this album.

About Blues Lundvall (a tribute to the former president of Blue Note Records and Rubalcaba's "discoverer") and Mandalagh can be said to be sisters in sound. While the first one is the result of a duo that equals the big band in dexterity; the second is reflected more in the temperamental smoothness of the cool jazz. They have their differences, but both are the storm before the calm; they foretell the dialectic of Yolanda Anasthe iconic concert Rubalcaba. Rubalcaba has been causing sighs in the national repertoires for years, and the addition of the Brazilian to the equation is both a surprise and a complete success.

Back to the living room, Flying Chicken is heir to the distant bebop It takes off like a chase anthem, in the style of Chaplin's frenetic comedies. The most remarkable thing is that, although it drops a few tones, it doesn't slump. Not even to take a breath. We witness the epic of two masters who know how to maintain the tension and the movement based on punctual syncopations, creating the groove that we like so much. This is one of the most generous pieces in volume on the LP.

On the other hand, silence is the perfect antithesis; it falls like the disconsolate dialogue of an outsider who does not wish to attract attention. Rubalcaba's piano opens up, to couple with the ipso facto to the choro by De Holanda. They build a trepid saudade based on strings and perhaps, because of its virtuosic minimalism, it is one of the most distinguishable songs. Towards the middle of the track, Rubalcaba deploys a solo that is really an elongated shadow of the beginning, but still exerts its autonomy. 

Gonzalo Rubalcaba and Hamilton de Holanda. Photos by Dani Gurgel.

Jõao Gilberto's latent inspiration in De Holanda is shattering; it's like listening to the raw instrument before the Bossa Nova. This translates into Don't You Worry 'Bout a Thinga version of the original performed by Stevie Wonder on his 1973 album, Innervisions. It began with a dialogue and between its lines we heard: "Todo está bien chévere", which could be the general vision and concept of Collab. The version also features the harmonica of the young Brazilian master Gabriel Grossi.

Choro Fado is one of the constructions that materializes the innate ambition of the project. As if there were not enough subgenres and plots, Rubalcaba delights with a kind of jazz fussionmixing his traditional piano -from the lineage of Lecuona- in a back-and-forth with the choro by De Holanda. What begins as a ghostly enchantment, becomes a polyrhythmic pull. It is these challenges to stylistic barriers that showcase the musical vocabulary of both. 

The presence of João Bosco in his Incompatibility of Gênios is an excellent and timely inclusion of vocals on the album. We return to the Bossa Novathis time to a more popular one, which is bathed in the sonority of Copacabana and undeniably recalls the golden age of the genre and the legendary intonations of Astrud Gilberto in Drinking water.

Gonzalo Rubalcaba and Hamilton de Holanda. Photos by Dani Gurgel.

On the other hand, Transparence retains a truly moving undertone. With the company of the great Charlie Haden, the original version was recorded live at the Blue Note Jazz Club in Tokyo in March 2005. However, Rubalcaba was not able to release it until 2015, months after the death of his partner. It is a revisit to the albums Tokyo Adagio and Charlie (2015), both in tribute to the American bassist. Rubalcaba's hands, watched over by the carioca, look for a perfect legatocarrying wreaths to Haden's bedside.

The last ballad is masterful, along with Flying Chicken, silence and Choro Fadodeserves to be listened to meticulously and on several occasions. Saudade, Saudade version of the coda with which MARO represented Portugal at the Eurovision Song Contest 2022, where it finished in ninth place. The new interpretation walks counterclockwise. De Holanda retraces his steps, looking for where he left the keys; while in the background some castanets burst out, giving that unmistakable flamenco character to a charming and hurried closing.

Gonzalo Rubalcaba and Hamilton de Holanda. Photos by Dani Gurgel.

The album dips into the new wave, without risking its academic cut. For, above all the experimentation, there is a unifying style that makes each piece feel like a room in a house, with De Holanda's bandolín serving as a guide. Rubalcaba is the perfect match; he assists in the warmest possible way, leaving no doubt that the Island piano has invaded the world.