Jacky Terrasson & Cassandra Wilson, Rendezvous (Blue Note)

This record was a winner from conception.

Take Terrasson, the young Parisian import who, since winning the Thelonious Monk competition in ’93, has dazzled as one of the most fluid, dynamic pianists working. Pair him with Cassandra Wilson, the most popular jazz singer of her generation, a woman whose intensely dreamy, sensual after-hours contralto could melt an ice-cube on the North Pole. Name it after a romantic, late night encounter. You can’t lose.

They could have stopped there, but the duo was smart enough to enlist bassist Lonnie Plaxico and percussionist Mino Cinelu to add texture and momentum to the romantic grooves and unusual arrangements (courtesy of Terrasson). The benefits are evident on the wonderfully reworked “Tea For Two,” with an ultra-laid back Latin groove that allows Terrasson and Wilson to focus on mood, and if there’s one quality in abundance on Rendezvous, it’s mood. Like most of Wilson’s best work, this record was made for wistful day-dreaming by moonlight.

Terrasson relishes the opportunity to subtly complement such a strong singer, especially on the haunting “Old Devil Moon,” and on “Tennessee Waltz,” where his use of Wurlitzer adds a magic touch of old southern R&B. He shines sans Wilson on Herbie Hancock’s “Chan’s Song,” where he switches back and forth from electric to acoustic piano; also on a solo version of “Autumn Leaves,” on which he uses both to create an eerie, enchanting vibe. On the best cuts, such as “Little Boy Lost,” you can sense Terrasson and Wilson listening to each other so intently that they are nearly hypnotized.

Terrasson’s piano draws more blues out of Wilson’s voice than the electric guitar to which she’s accustomed. Here she sounds like a more fragile Nina Simone. She seems to be kissing each syllable goodbye with heart-rending tenderness, as though she doesn’t want to release her soul’s bounty until the last possible moment.

Rendezvous reminds us that a thousand delicate whispers have greater romantic impact than a single shout.

Jonathan Tabak