Silvano Monasterios, The River Review

The Architecture of Flow: Inside Silvano Monasterios’s The River

By Nolan DeBuke

Silvano Monasterios is a pianist, composer, and orchestrator whose work reflects deep cultural roots and an expansive musical imagination. Born in Venezuela and now firmly embedded in the North American jazz scene, Monasterios has carved a space for himself by blending Latin American traditions with the diverse texters of contemporary jazz. His latest suite, The River, released on April 4, 2025, is a creative and personal statement through a suite of his compositions. Commissioned by Chamber Music America and the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, this seven-part suite functions as a meditation on displacement, identity, and resilience.

At the heart of The River lies Monasterios’s personal response to the socio-political upheavals that have plagued Venezuela, particularly the crisis that intensified around 2017. Rather than addressing these events through overt messaging, he chooses the language of music to explore the emotional landscape beneath the headlines. His suite traces a current shaped by memory, mourning, resistance, and ultimately, hope, interweaving his own experiences with a broader narrative of national and cultural reckoning.

Monasterios has assembled a dream ensemble for The River, and their chemistry is evident throughout the recording. On tenor saxophone, Troy Roberts delivers improvisations of technical finesse and expressive depth, while Nestor Torres’s flute lends a lyrical air that often lifts the music into moments of pastels of beauty. Alex Norris brings fire and nuance on trumpet and flügelhorn, and Jeff Lederer adds a distinctive tonal palette with his bass clarinet and clarinet work. Ricky Rodriguez’s contrabass playing provides harmonic foundation and melodic commentary, perfectly in step with the ever-responsive percussion of Luisito Quintero and the dynamic drumming of Jimmy MacBride. Juan Diego Villalobos contributes warmth and dimension on vibraphone, enriching the ensemble’s timbral range. Together, these musicians bring the narrative of Monasterios’s compositions into something deeply expressive.

Structured as a seven-part suite, The River moves like its namesake: sometimes turbulent, sometimes serene, but always with direction. It opens with “The River (Opening),” a multi-sectional overture that layers the ensemble orchestrally, establishing the recurring thematic language and rhythmic foundation rooted in Venezuelan folk traditions. Expressive solos from Lederer on bass clarinet and Roberts on tenor saxophone flow naturally within the syncopated rhythmic design, evoking the river as a symbol and setting.

“Dance On The Wire” follows with a poised sense of tension and balance. Monasterios’s playful piano figure flirts with the clave while the ensemble layers contrapuntal lines. Rodriguez’s arco bass anchors the groove beneath subtle shifts in rhythm and texture. Roberts and Diego Villalobos add solo statements of energy.  Monasterios’s solo is fluid, melodic, and rhythmically expressive.

“Against The Current” begins with a graceful groove based Latin in feel enriched with contemporary colors. Its central rhythmic modulation becomes a metaphor for resistance, with the ensemble’s layered counterpoint portraying the clash and convergence of opposing forces. Horns, reeds, and rhythm section alike contribute to a moving portrait that is resolved through unity.

“Carmen Elena” is a vibrant, Afro-Cuban inflected homage. The writing is tightly woven, with counterpoint that is intricate and accessible. Villalobos’ and Torres’ solos are expressive, soaring with a lyrical immediacy, while the montuno section pulses with rhythmic vitality and the responsive figures from Quintero and MacBride.

The suite takes an introspective turn with “Ambar,” a solo piano piece that highlights Monasterios’s range as a composer and performer. Drawing from classical, jazz, and Venezuelan traditions, this romantic ballad offers a space for reflection, shaped with elegance and emotional performance. He returns with the ensemble in “Ambar’s Courage,” expanding the previous piece’s harmonic palette into a full-throated expression of resilience. Roberts’s tenor saxophone solo here is riveting, supported by written ensemble figures that build steadily toward a cathartic climax.

The concluding movement, “The River Between Us,” unites all previous elements in a statement of joyful affirmation. The groove blends sensual Latin rhythms with jazz color, while Monasterios, now on both piano and keyboard, supports a passionately shaped flute solo by Nestor Torres and a final, triumphant solo by Roberts. This is ensemble playing at its finest: intricate, expressive, and deeply connected.

The River is an accessible musical statement of culture. The listening experience affirming Monasterios’s place among today’s most vital jazz voices. With The River, Silvano Monasterios delivers a suite on place, memory, and the human condition, rendered through a blend of rhythm, melody, and form. It’s an album that speaks to the heart with a music steeped in cultural specificity but universally resonant. In Monasterios’s hands, the river does not divide; it connects.