DONY FELIX, Chosen Solitude

There’s a beautiful contradiction at the heart of Dony Felix’s Chosen Solitude: an album conceived in solitude that comes alive through community. The Miami-based Haitian bassist, composer and educator may have shaped these melodies during periods of intentional withdrawal, but once the music begins, solitude gives way to conversation—between bass and piano, jazz and Caribbean rhythm, acoustic and electronic colors, and an exceptional collection of musicians who bring their own personalities and cultural languages into Felix’s vision.  

That tension makes Chosen Solitude an especially intriguing debut. Felix’s bass is frequently the low-slung undercurrent around which these pieces evolve, but he never treats the instrument merely as rhythmic infrastructure. On “Nanie’s Tune,” his resonant midrange melody immediately establishes a moody, immersive center as elegant piano flourishes, tropical synth colors and a shimmering percussive palette gradually widen the sonic horizon. Leo Quintero’s guitar, Jean Caze’s trumpet and Matais Oxidine’s woodwinds help turn the piece into a prismatic world-jazz journey, with silky saxophone, higher-register guitar and a simmering horn improvisation continually changing the landscape. The effect is both urban and island-inflected, as though contemporary jazz were being viewed through a sunlit Caribbean canopy.

“Toi Qui Dispose” moves with a similarly seductive elasticity, pairing Felix’s supple bass with sparkling piano, percussion and flute before giving Godwin Louis room to unfurl a thoughtful saxophone feature. The music shifts effortlessly from intimate and dreamy to bustling and rhythmically charged, with Felix eventually stepping forward for an adventurous low-toned bass passage before Louis brings the piece home with increasingly forceful saxophone.

“Your Smile” introduces an entirely different kind of community – and offers a charming glimpse of Felix’s life and commitment as an educator. A teacher speaking to children at the opening counts them into a playful “la la la” chorus, complete with laughter and handclaps, before Felix launches into a island-inflected bass groove surrounded by Aaron Lebos’ winding guitar. What follows is one of the album’s most shape-shifting performances: piano, percussion, guitar and bass continually exchange roles, with Lebos moving from airy, whimsical lines into a more aggressive electric-guitar attack as the piece edges toward jazz-rock fusion. The children’s voices eventually return, transforming the finale into a celebration rather than simply another instrumental climax.

The concise “Fight for Peace” strips things back, placing Felix’s resonant bass and sparse piano in an almost meditative dialogue before jungle-like percussion and an eerie, echoing “call” create a fascinating contrast between earthy sensuality and searching mystery. On “Amazona,” meanwhile, the palette takes a more exploratory turn. Ominous chanting and dense ambience give way to a hypnotic piano-and-percussion groove, with LaVie’s wordless vocals floating between sensual and ethereal. Felix remains the deep current beneath the performance as piano, percussion, guitar and synth textures accumulate into a colorful, increasingly combustible fusion passage.

Then comes “Onomatopoeia,” the album’s most unabashedly freewheeling statement. Frisky percussion, rambunctious piano and Felix’s remarkably agile bass propel the track into electric-jazz territory, with spacey synthesizers, soaring textures and a vibrant electric-piano solo recalling the anything-goes spirit of classic ’70s fusion. Felix often plays the bass almost like a guitar, and the resulting interplay between low-register authority and nimble melodic invention is one of the record’s most impressive signatures. The reprise pushes the atmosphere further into a bubbling jungle of percussion, distant voices and swirling ambience.

Felix’s background makes this musical openness feel entirely natural. His career grew from a church foundation into decades of performance, education and collaboration within Miami’s jazz and Caribbean communities, including work with Haitian and international artists. His dedication to teaching elementary-school students adds another dimension to an album driven by musical exchange and shared discovery.  

Ultimately, Chosen Solitude suggests that solitude does not have to mean isolation. Felix’s private creative retreat becomes the starting point for an unusually generous sharing of musical voices—one where Haitian heritage, Caribbean rhythm, contemporary jazz, fusion virtuosity and the distinctive voices of his collaborators continually intersect. For a debut, it is a remarkably assured and ambitious statement, not because Felix attempts to dominate every moment, but because he understands exactly when to let the music become bigger than himself.