Imagine an unknown question with no discernible answer. Musicians quietly emerged in groups from the basement of a room that looked like a basement, except with a gorgeous piano as its centerpiece. Duos, trios, quartets, culminating in an all-in massive improvisational blowout. Piano, bass, cello, percussion, drums, guitar, laptop, various horns. Different combinations, different improvisations. Different. It was a who's who of the NYC avant-garde jazz scene, but they couldn't introduce themselves if they even tried. And they did try. "I don't know all your last names" was the answer. Here's a peek into the madness:
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