There are many virtuosos to look between, so watch out for the technical bravado gifted to us here. Mark Weinstein has always been distinct for his hot and sweaty Latin tones, fusing them with great sensibility to the tropical atmospheres with the blue notes: we have to acknowledge to him the refinement and the research that has since been given to the flute in Latin jazz. It has been done in such a way that his sound hasn’t just originated only through his intuition or through his love for a “good sound”. It’s as much of an interesting capacity for composition and arrangements like this that has been growing remarkably in originality and of which is evident in the executive techniques used.

The tracks that are proposed here in “Lua e sol” contain a narrative logic that stands out and manages to unravel itself through the predilection for a pluri-chromatic that is both personal and expressive in its dimensions. This in turn produces a coherent and agreeably pleasing phrasing that could be described as “colloquial”. In such a way that “Canto de Ossanha” remains an image that isn’t set in time and in the way in which it is presented. And we have to look at both Baden Powell and Vinicius De Moraes who form part of the nucleus in this strong and contagious emotive force; an ideal climate to release all of the elegance contained within this flautist. This force is also contained in evergreens “Upa Negrinho” from Eduardo Lobo and Gianfrancisco Guarnieri or “Choro da Gafieira” by Pixinguinha.

In the name of a “progressive traditionalist” the flautist takes special care in the execution and relies on good taste which appears wholly simple in its exhibition, sometimes energetic, at times lively, other times swinging – dilated in conceived jets of solos, without using any calculated tricks: a truly convincing fervour, a tenacious faith in the profound sense of the pre-selected pentagram’s used, substituted by the formidable interplay with a formation that is extremely explicit (the guitar of Romero Lubambo, the acoustic bass of Nilson Mata, the Brazilian percussion of Cyro Baptista).

Weinstein doesn’t follow this pattern to all costs, he doesn’t love the garish cabaret of lots of solos; he chooses to articulate the album according to a groove that is cared for – which is enthusiastic, actual in its whispered harmonics, imprinted with an identity out of the normal scheme of all other narcissi tic’s. It is in this respect that it would appear that there is a light that is magically switched on to “explain” to the listener every phrase in the creative process, and of all of its emotions that it contains.