When Susie Ibarra's trio took the stage for a Halloween weekend show at Tonic, New York's most vibrant Lower East Side music room, the group was dressed for the occasion. Ibarra sat behind her kit, surrounded by all sorts of percussive gadgetry, in a white chef's hat and uniform. Violinist Charles Burnham wore a harlequin's outfit, his eyes masked and the toes of his shoes slyly curled. And Cooper-Moore, who moved from piano to his homemade harp and diddley-bo, accented his standard overalls with a jester's hat from time to time.

Such a sense of playfulness-- Ibarra cooking up ideas with deft stirs and just the right proportions, the long lines of Burnham's stylized grace, and Cooper-Moore's homespun humor-- was as true of the group's approach to music as to attire that night. And such a refreshing spirit comes through, too, on Radiance (Hopscotch Records), Ibarra's debut recording as a leader. None of that is meant to imply that the new CD is light or unstructured music-- just that the attitude is relaxed, and its participants, utterly charming in distinct and idiosyncratic ways.

At 29, Ibarra is still young, but she's hardly new to the Downtown scene. Having distinguished herself as a member of David S. Ware's quartet, with bassist William Parker (as a member of his In Order to Survive ensemble and Little Huey Creative Music Orchestra), and in many other contexts, she's displayed an intuitively swinging pulse while developing a personalized approach to rhythmic flow and color.

Some may look upon this album as a "coming out" party for Ibarra. It isn't really; it's a glimpse into the aesthetic of a musician we hardly know-- one who's combined lessons learned from master drummers like Milford Graves, influences gathered from many sources, including her own Filipino heritage, and experience gained playing professionally with some of the best in the world.
" Radiance," the three-part suite that begins the disc, opens with a simple, folk-like melody played in long-tones on Burnham's violin, with tremulous chords from Cooper-Moore's piano, and a legato feel. But Ibarra emerges slowly, through subtle taps and brush washes, clearly having guided the pulse from it's first moments. In the second movement, Ibarra takes a solo that highlights the incredibly sensitive stick work with which she varies pitch and emphasis in subtle gradations. Here, Cooper-Moore moves to a box-harp, and the buoyant, resonant glisses remind of an African kora. The trio mines complex and strange grooves in this opening section: first, pensive, the joyful and rollicking, then set in jagged motion by a Jew's harp solo.

Burnham has an especially fibrous sound, a soulful stance, and he avoids the cliché’s that plague most violin-wielding improvisers. Cooper-Moore, one of Downtown music's best-kept secrets, not only plays homemade instruments like his box harp and the diddley-bo (an electrified, one string bass), he takes an intensely emotive presence at the piano. "A Glimpse" announces itself with Ornette Colman-ish intent; Ibarra, Burnham, and Cooper-Moore scatter melodic fragments with an elegance that nearly belies their technical prowess. Throughout, the three achieve a flexibility that enables each player to move from foreground to background with great ease, passing melodic, rhythmic, and harmonious information around as friends would details of a common experience in conversation. Impressive as her overt displays of technique are here, Ibarra shines most of all when, with seeming sleight-of-hand, she directs the movement of a tune from tightly organized, head-based jazz to free-flowing improvisation.

Ibarra is clearly enjoying herself here, and that joy becomes palpable. It also leads to some excess: A seven minute take on Jimi Hendrix' "Up From the Skies," a showcase for Cooper-Moore's diddly-bo, is sincere but perhaps out of place. And the inclusion of alternate takes of beginning tracks prove more distracting than cohesive. But these caveats are too small to detract from the charm and promise overall.

Radiance highlights the diversity of creative ferment going on within New York's Downtown scene and among jazz-based improvisers in general these days. The very existence of this band is both intriguing and a positive sign. It places a spotlight on the deserving voices of Burnham and Cooper-Moore. And it leaves us wanting to know more about Ibarra.