LISA RICH, I Still Rise

One of jazz’s greatest gifts is its ability to transform life’s hardest-earned wisdom into something graceful, spontaneous and quietly uplifting. That spirit resonates throughout I Still Rise, Lisa Rich’s deeply satisfying second act—a beautiful, intricately crafted collection that continues her remarkable return to trademark form. The unveiling she began with Long As You’re Living now  reveals an artist whose interpretive depth has only deepened and continues to evolve with time.

Joined once again by pianist Marc Copland, bassist Drew Gress and trumpeter Dave Ballou, Rich embraces the unusual openness of a drumless ensemble, allowing every phrase to breathe naturally. Her wonderfully adaptable voice shifts effortlessly from darkly soulful introspection to playful exuberance, while her imaginative scatting often functions less like vocal embellishment than an additional improvising instrument. At times, she mirrors Ballou’s trumpet lines with astonishing precision, reinforcing the conversational intimacy that defines and drives the album.

The wholly improvised opening duet “No Moon at All” immediately showcases that chemistry, with Rich’s husky, lived-in vocals weaving around Gress’ rolling bass line in a performance filled with sly humor and irresistible swing. “The Two Lonely People” follows with haunting restraint, its sparse piano accompaniment framing a wistful meditation on love remembered. A medley of her late friend and master teacher Jay Clayton’s “Beginner” and Rich’s original “How Can We Sing About Freedom?” broadens the emotional landscape considerably, opening with buoyant scat before evolving into a thoughtful, emotionally riveting reflection on contemporary uncertainty, its hopeful swing balancing the weight of its social message.

Rich’s expressive versatility also inspires the lush romantic elegance she brings to the Italian classic “Estate” and the remarkable agility of her exuberant vocal interpretation of Dave Brubeck’s “Take Five,” which finds her matching its iconic melody with crafty precision before launching into dazzling, almost otherworldly scat excursions.

The meditative “Quiet Now” and  impressionistic “Ancient Footprints,” (a vocal adaptation of Wayne Shorter’s iconic “Footprints”) featuring Ballou’s soulful trumpet alongside Rich’s dreamy vocal lines, showcase  her gift for quiet emotional storytelling, while “Never Let Me Go” offers one of the album’s most affecting moments, blending tender vulnerability with understated charm. She closes with the joyous romp “It’s Over Now,” whose spirited interplay and carefree vocal flights leave the listener smiling.