| Jazz |
Musician, filmmaker, poet of sound and image, Swiss by birth, New Zealander by heritage, Alex Ventling’s world is as fluid and borderless as his own story. His music, much like his identity, stretches between continents and traditions, inhabiting that liminal space where cultures blur into one another. His latest album feels less like a conventional jazz record and more like a cinematic work, a series of musical vignettes that seem to narrate fragments of unseen stories, carefully composed, yet alive with improvisational breath.
Ventling once used the phrase “chamber jazz” to describe his music, and the term fits, though perhaps not entirely. To my ears, his work is closer to the score of an imaginary film, one that could easily accompany Paul Auster’s *The Book of Illusions*. For those unfamiliar with Auster’s novel, here’s a reminder of its premise, which may illuminate this connection:
>One man’s obsession with the mysterious life of a silent film star takes him on a journey into a shadow-world of lies, illusions, and unexpected love. After losing his wife and young sons in a plane crash, Vermont professor David Zimmer spends his waking hours mired in grief. Then, watching television one night, he stumbles upon a lost film by silent comedian Hector Mann, and remembers how to laugh. Mann was a comic genius, in trademark white suit and fluttering black moustache. But one morning in 1929 he walked out of his house and was never heard from again. Zimmer’s obsession with Mann drives him to publish a study of his work; soon after, he receives a letter postmarked New Mexico, supposedly written by Mann’s wife, inviting him to meet the great Mann himself.
Ventling’s music feels like it could have underscored such a story, a meditation on grief, illusion, and rediscovery. His compositions are introspective without being opaque, lyrical without sentimentality. Each piece unfolds with cinematic precision, drawing listeners into a space where sound becomes memory, and melody becomes reflection.
Take “Omaha,” the album’s second track. The song’s gentle pulse and the singer’s ethereal voice summon the quiet grace of that Nebraska city, ne I’ve come to know in my own way, through small rituals and artistic encounters. I think of a contemporary art gallery there, run by an elderly man and his dog, both quietly welcoming. Omaha is like that: discreet, unassuming, its beauty revealing itself only to those who take the time to wander. Its downtown won’t disorient European visitors; if anything, it will make them feel oddly at home. Perhaps because, beneath its Midwestern plainness, Omaha carries the weight of an old-world sensibility, its own version of history folded into its streets.
Ventling’s work invites that kind of reflection. His music is intellectual without being academic, existential without despair. Each track speaks directly to the listener’s subconscious, often without permission—and always with effect.
Over the years, Alex Ventling has built an international career grounded in both rigorous training and an openness to collaboration. Educated in Basel, Berlin, Copenhagen, and Trondheim, he established himself on the Norwegian and European jazz scenes through projects such as The View (with Phelan Burgoyne) and *In Orbit* (with Hein Westgaard). His pianism, poetic, organic, bears traces of classical and contemporary jazz traditions, infused with the contemplative influence of Vipassana meditation, a practice that continues to shape his improvisational voice.
Beyond performance, Ventling is also a filmmaker and curator, notably of the DUO Trondheim series, which explores the art of intimate musical dialogue. He has studied under luminaries such as Mark Turner, Jorge Rossy, Larry Grenadier, and Guillermo Klein, and joined the prestigious European Jazz Master’s program in 2020, a journey that took him from Copenhagen’s Rhythmic Music Conservatory to Berlin and Trondheim.
To my mind, Alex Ventling is an artist worth following closely, as are the members of his ensemble. Together, they inhabit a different dimension, one of rare depth and integrity. Their art demands attention, contemplation, and above all, repeated listening. Let your mind drift, let your memories resurface, and you may find yourself somewhere between sound and cinema, between illusion and truth, where Ventling’s music quietly waits.
Thierry De Clemensat
Member at Jazz Journalists Association
USA correspondent for Paris-Move and ABS magazine
Editor in chief – Bayou Blue Radio, Bayou Blue News
PARIS-MOVE, October 27th 2025
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Musicians :
Alex Ventling | Piano, Synth
Tuva Halse | Violin
Amund Stenøien | Vibraphone
August Glännestrand | Drums, Drum Machine
Sissel Vera Pettersen | Voice (Track 2)
Track Listing :
Omaha (feat. Sissel Vera Pettersen)
Trondheim I
Trondheim II
Traces
Trondheim III
January
Spiral
Four Refractions