The Folly of Desire is the latest release by American jazz pianist Brad Mehldau and English classical tenor Ian Bostridge, their first on the Pentatone label. Both internationally acclaimed giants in their respective genres, this intriguing pairing offers a stylistically rich exploration of the liminal space between jazz and classical repertoire. Listeners may recall similar examples, such as Benny Goodman’s recording of Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto, Wynton Marsalis’ recording of Haydn’s Trumpet Concerto, and Miles Davis’ use the Adagio melody from Rodrigo’s Concerto du Aranguez in his album ‘Sketches of Spain’. The Folly of Desire stands out as one of the most technically strong and gimmick free iterations of classical-jazz fusion for a long while.

Bostridge’s voice is packed with the emotional intensity characteristic of German lieder, and his vocal and dynamic range is expertly matched by his vivid storytelling ability. But it is Mehldau’s piano playing that is the highlight of the album. The range of classical influences on display are eclectic, from the dense cluster chords of Debussy and the heavy Germanic rhythms of Schubert to the atonalism of Schoenberg and the melodic counterpoint of Bach. But there is much more going on here just under the surface. The twisting chromaticism of jazz is every present as is a sense of improvisational freedom, as is an occasion subtle hint of the blues. Mehldau plays with amazing sensitivity and tasteful subtly, providing masterful accompaniment to Bostridge’s rich tenor.

The Folly of Desire is far from a conventional song cycle; of the sixteen tracks, only one is a Schubert composition. Instead, this album is mostly comprised of poems by the likes of William Blake, W. B. Yeats, Shakespeare, Bertolt Brecht, Goethe, W. H. Auden, and E. E. Cummings, ending with some jazz standards by the likes of Cole Porter. This choice of material on this album is not only extremely erudite but also culturally progressive and politically outspoken. Mehldau himself has described it as a project which explores the ‘sexual freedom in a post-#MeToo political age’. Just like the rising a falling drama of a Romantic song-cycle, this album takes a cyclical route through various forms of sexuality, erotism, and love. ‘My love is as a fever,’ begins Shakespeare’s Sonnet 147, ‘longing still/ For that which longer nurseth the disease’. This disturbing image is juxtaposed alongside Porter’s sickly-sweet Broadway hit ‘Night and Day’, as well as against the lewd and boisterous macho sexuality of Cummings’ ‘the boys i mean are not refined’. The multiple layers of musical and literary meaning here will ensure this album remains rewarding even after multiple re-listens.