Jazz

Although the concept of relativity is overused, I’ll make use of it—following up on my last review of Peter Dobai’s album “Head in the Clouds,” in which I reflect on how our subjective perception of time changes. Hevhetia is a record label that left a deep mark on the musical and creative landscape of Central Europe. Since it sadly ceased operations, I’ve felt as though years have passed. That’s because Ján Sudzina’s extraordinary contribution to the Slovak music industry was so frequently and so emphatically highlighted on the pages of this website. On the other hand, it seems to me as if Miloš Železňák’s album “Untitled” (one of the last releases from this extraordinary Košice-based label) had only reached me yesterday...

Several legends attributed to Albert Einstein have been passed down as simple and vivid explanations of relativity. For me, however, my differing perception of the temporal distance between events—both of which are tied to the year 2024—is sufficient. In the summer of 2024, Miloš Železňák recorded an album at Studio 71 in Rusovce, which, as Hevhetie’s swan song, was even released on vinyl. Its understated aesthetic conceals a conceptual intent to set “uncertainty” to music. Železňák is known for his contemplative approach, which transcends the framework of a simple musical work. His creative restlessness has led him from more classical—yet musically particularly compelling—trios to the deconstruction of folk and paraliturgical songs, and from minimalism to the experimentation of improvised music.

The album “Untitled” embraces “untitledness” as its central theme. This is manifested not only in the title itself, but also in the exploration of the semantic boundaries of concepts that negate nameability, concreteness, identifiability, objectivity, belonging, and descriptiveness. Using the tried-and-true acoustic trio format favored by the artist, the individual tracks—from the eponymous Untitled, through Unnamed, Unidentified, Unspecified, Undescribed, and Unmarked, the acoustic trio—a format the author favors—seeks a harmony of instruments in melodic gestures, intimate echoes, resonant vibrato, lingering refrains, disrupted gradations, destabilized harmonies, and contrasting polychromatic textures. Double bassist Enea Bari and drummer Ján Oriško are just as determined as the bandleader and composer himself in their search for clues leading to an understanding of the essential qualities of music.

In recent years, as a society, we have become desensitized on many levels—from social polarization to political vulgarization, communicative divergence, and a defeatist attitude toward values. Calming down, slowing down, turning off our phones, not reacting to the flood of news, and filtering out the media smog are increasingly becoming luxuries. Yet this is precisely the key to ensuring that, amid the haste of our times and our dependence on the rapid exchange of information—regardless of its quality—we do not make or accumulate mistakes. Music has the miraculous power to slow down time—all the more so when its purpose is conscious and fully immersive concentration on every detail, every note, sound, and rustle, even the shimmering of the air in the room.

Miloš Železňák and his trio, without pathos, without pompous proclamations or empty phrases, sensitively address questions of emotion—even the most intimate, most personal impulses and expressions—which we often cannot name, which are unidentifiable, vague, impossible to describe simply or label unambiguously. I enjoy delving into the conceptual and sonic messages of the album “Untitled,” and that hasn’t changed even in the two years that, from one perspective, have flown by, but from another, have dragged on at a snail’s pace.