Korean Fantasy captures long-time collaborators Kim Dae Hwan (percussion) and Choi Sun Bae (trumpet, harmonica) live in Japan in 1999.

It begins with a trumpet solo, wherein Choi shows off his virtuosity, from strangled half-valves to lyrical stanzas to growling shouts. Then, Kim introduces his cymbals and serpentine rhythms, and Choi fades to, then tumbles back in from the background. This fore- and background orientation is likely a result of the position of mics while recording rather than an original intention. Still, it draws warranted attention to Hwan's drums. For this date, he abandoned his normal set-up of bukes (Korean barrel drums), rototom and cymbals, for a conventional jazz set. Yet, he maintains what the liner notes call his "one beat" style, which focuses on a sequence and overlap of pulses. In other words, this is hybridized drumming, a fusion of Korean, jazz and Kim's own unique, propulsive style. He keeps impeccable rhythm while adding copious clunk and clatter to keep things interesting. The duo format also gives both musicians considerable space for soloing and, in tandem, exploring their own corners without having to vie for space through volume.

Although the music already reaches wide, a striking change takes place 20 minutes in, when Choi picks up the harmonica. This creates a strange, pied dynamic, as Choi focuses on some basic blues techniques and Hwan accepts the charge to lay down some infectious slanted rhythms. The duo seems to be digging into an African American bucolic tradition. Just as quickly as it is evoked it gets replaced by an airy passage of trumpet effects (something for which Choi was not previously known for), soon overlaying another driving passage of percussive clangor. Kim really seems to delight in the hollow, woodier sounds he coaxes.

In spirit, this reminds me of a few other collaborations between drummers and, most often, reeds men, wherein the purpose seems to be to facilitate a wide-ranging conversation between the two improvisors and capture some of the excitement of live spontaneous improvisation: the failed pathways, the stumbles into more fruitful ones, those instances when everything aligns perfectly into a moment of bliss, the unvarnished dynamics too often polished in the studio, the emphasis on the moment and feeling rather than just the combination of notes, the jovial spirit that pushed musicians to dialog like this again and again. This is all here, and in abundance, and in a truly unique, even fantastic, coupling and style.