Canto more or less picks up where Alcorn's 2015 release, Soledad, left off, expanding the geographic/musical sphere a good bit, but remaining on the Argentinian/Chilean axis, mingling traditional song forms with experimental and free playing. Whereas the prior recording was a solo session, on Canto, Alcorn employs a septet of Chilean musicians playing guitars and related instruments, percussion, flutes and strings.

The opening track, 'Suite para Todos', begins firmly in Piazzolla territory, with its sultry tango rhythm and dark, romantic (and quite beautiful) string line, before venturing into freer areas with violin and guitar skittering over an abruptly truncated pulse, effectively nudging the music into an adjacent, unexpected alleyway. Some lovely, cloudy guitar ushers in the secondary theme, more of a march than a tango, perhaps a workers's song, before matters once again fragment into a small riot of flutes and percussion, eventually settling back into the initial theme which now carries an additional tinge of sadness.

The title suite follows then in three parts. '¿Dónde están?' follows a similar pattern to the first piece, here starting as a ballad, dissolving into a little bit of free playing, congealing back into a vaguely martial pattern, splaying back out into a looser, dreamier patch, emerging with a new theme, a moving melody that, again, would seem to have roots in workers' songs. The longest section, 'Presente: Sueño de Luna Azul', possesses a tenser, more brooding character, while still retaining the general aspect of shifting back and forth between composed and free portions. While that structural similarity is somewhat pervasive, the particulars, both of the melodic content and the quality and imagination of the improvising, allow the music to be absorbing enough. I do find myself wishing for more compositional variety in that sense, however; Charlie Haden's initial 'Liberation Music Orchestra' album came to mind. The final part of the suite, 'Lukax', refers briefly to the theme of the closing track, then casts yet another stirring melody before the dissolution once again sets in though, to be sure, the piece and the suite ends on a very touching note.

'Mercedes Sosa' is a lighter melody, a gently dancing tune befitting its subject, very sweet, led by strings, flute and guitar, entirely lovey. Canto concludes with Victor Jara's classic 'El Derecho de Vivir en Paz'. If, as for this listener, the song immediately conjures up the riotous version by Ground-Zero, well, there's perhaps a bit of similarity, but the approach here is much more sinuous and even infectious, beginning with the sung vocals, proceeding to Alcorn's soaring guitar solo, the Chilean flute and continuing as the ensemble rides the irresistible pulse they've created. It's the one track that's played through "straight" and, while the free playing herein is very fine, it's refreshing in context.