"Jazz musicians often talk about "taking risks", improvising to the point of not knowing what the next note will be, where the muse will take them or the colleagues and, indeed, who will grab the reins next and take the whole band on a magical mystery tour. Then there is free improvisation. Free improvisation is a discipline that, by definition, requires courage. There are no secure boundaries, there is no safety net, no rules to cling to.

Live at the Tel Aviv Museum is a prime example of going out on a limb, a bungee jump into wild blue beyond. All four players here have checked their safety belts and their preconceptions at the door of the Tel Aviv Museum. This is art in joyous freefall.

Part 2, for example, encapsulates the sentiments, energies, colors and textures of myriad worlds. The soundscape ostensibly plies unchartered waters, but there are plenty of reference points that stand out along the way. Dark, elongated chords, stretch to the edge of breaking point and escape into the unknown. There are passages that evoke images from a horror film. You wonder what lurks beyond the next corner.

But Live at the Tel Aviv Museum is not all darkness and gloom. There are fleeting dabs of insouciant klezmer, a hint of a Scottish bagpipe and a tongue-in-cheek sonic foray that follows its own muse, regardless. This is what it's all about. Gossamer thin threads, unfurled, fall into deep chasms of the soul and the psyche, and claw their way up to the highest, most celestial plains. Wailing bows give rise to thunderous percussive expletives and glimpses of gentle melody segue into finely honed darts that mercilessly attack the senses. Each of the players infuses his own personal and cultural baggage into the fray, and it makes for an electrifying eclectic mix. This motley crew manages to combine energies, ideas and technical skills to the common good of exploring the back streets and highways of the improvisational endeavor, and do so with aplomb."-Barry Davis, from the liner notes