Iacopo Teolis “The Moving Forest”

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Released in February 2025 by Parco della Musica Records, The Moving Forest was recorded in March 2022 at Cicaleto Recording Studio in Arezzo, with mixing and mastering by Francesco Ponticelli. The album centers on a sextet with an unusual instrumentation, combining a jazz rhythm section with instruments such as cello and bassoon. In the liner notes, Dave Douglas recalls his first meeting with Teolis in Rome in 2013, when the then fourteen-year-old trumpeter wrote to him asking to attend a rehearsal of the Parco della Musica Jazz Orchestra. Trained through the Siena Jazz seminars and its two-year program, and recipient of the Giovane Visionario 2023 and Nuova Generazione Jazz 2024 and 2025 distinctions, Teolis presents a work in which composition, improvisation, and timbral exploration shape a constantly evolving soundscape.

The album opens with “IFE,” a short but highly evocative piece. Was it conceived as a kind of introduction to the soundscape of The Moving Forest?
Exactly! Years ago, I read a newspaper article about hyphae, the white cylindrical filaments that are essential for fungi to absorb nutrients and can form symbiotic associations with plant roots. I realize it’s a very creative parallel, but I was deeply struck by it because it felt as though I were reading an article about my outlook on life, my idea of music, and, specifically, this album! In other words, the continuous and necessary interaction among the members of the group, so that the music can be as alive and electrifying as possible. The interplay between double bass and piano in the intro, as well as that between cello, bassoon, and trumpet after the solo, works because one melody justifies and supports the phrasing of another. So I would say that it is an introduction to the heart of The Moving Forest, a prelude to the entire album.

“The Moving Forest,” the album’s title track, seems to sum up the aesthetic of the project. What sonic or narrative image did you have in mind when you composed it?
The image I had in mind when composing this piece was that of a vast forest or an immense sea: essentially, an imposing whole in which you may notice a single tree or a single wave, but which is ultimately always perceived in its entirety. This gave rise to the idea of a melody in constant transformation, shared and enriched by the interweaving and timbral changes of the three melodic instruments, accompanied by a dense and mysterious rhythmic and harmonic framework provided by the Rhodes, double bass, and drums. The title “The Moving Forest” emerged during the mixing stage. While talking to Francesco Ponticelli, I described the sound I had in mind as a forest in motion. He replied that it was Shakespeare’s Macbeth, and that is how the title of the piece—and subsequently the album—came about!

In “Love Story,” a more lyrical and melodic dimension emerges. How much did your relationship with the trumpet and flugelhorn influence the writing of this piece?
The flugelhorn was fundamental to the writing of this piece! For me, the instrument has a very specific sound, one that draws from both the human voice and the cello. I use it within a very limited register and for certain pieces, particularly ballads such as “Love Story.” Today there are very few trumpeters who also play the flugelhorn, and I don’t know exactly why. For me, though, it is a necessity! I grew up listening to Roy Hargrove’s albums and recordings, where I always saw this instrument—similar to the trumpet but different in many ways—create a truly magical atmosphere during his concerts. Watching and listening to Roy Hargrove, I always had the impression that with the flugelhorn he wanted to express a more intimate side of himself, and I think that, with the flugelhorn, I can access a warmer, breathier sound that, I hope, takes me, the band, and the listener into that refined, delicate, and elegant dimension.

“Bi’tz #5” has an intriguing title and almost suggests a fragmented or modular structure. How did this composition come about, and what kind of interplay were you looking for among the musicians?
The original idea behind this album was to compose “beats”—repeated phrases of four or eight bars—for trumpet, cello, bassoon, and double bass. A groove made up of different layers, so that, once again, an elaborate and interesting rhythmic and harmonic whole could emerge. At the heart of every composition there is also a section that acts as the seed, the original core of the piece, which in “Bi’tz #5” is found in the intro and outro. The central section, the heart of the piece, expresses the importance of being part of a group that shares a passion, a vision, and a common direction in order to make the world a more beautiful place. That is why the composition, arrangement, and orchestration of the entire album took almost a year and a half. Every note, every pause, and every passage was studied and written down to the smallest detail, to make sure that it resonated within me as sincerely as possible. And I am immensely happy and grateful that Luca, Vittorio, Livia, Stefano, Marco—and my sister Arianna, our super-special guest—embraced this project and these pieces with such warmth and professionalism, turning my music into everyone’s music!

The album includes a reinterpretation of Benny Golson’s “I Remember Clifford,” one of the most intense standards in the jazz tradition. How did you approach arranging the piece within such an unusual timbral setting, with cello and bassoon?
To tell the truth, this was an assignment Logan Richardson gave us during the two-year program at Siena Jazz. He had us listen to Björk’s version of the standard “Like Someone in Love,” an absolute masterpiece in which the piece is reimagined through the singer’s iconic voice in a duet with harp. These were new sounds, things I had never heard or imagined before, and they set me on a path of timbral exploration and the search for new sonic possibilities that could also be applied to jazz and standards. That is how the arrangement of “I Remember Clifford” came about, developed under Dave Douglas’s supervision: a journey from the new harmonic fabric of my version back to Benny Golson’s original.

“Old Man’s Tales” seems to evoke an almost narrative dimension. When you compose, do you think of pieces as musical stories or as purely musical structures?
For me, having an image or a story in mind is essential when I compose. “Old Man’s Tales” is dedicated to Paolo Guidoni, a physics professor who, when we were children, used to tell us stories about the Azari, the Iziri, and the Uzuri: three peoples skilled respectively in literature, numbers, and manual work, who solved everything by working together. The three melodies—for cello, bassoon, and trumpet—represent these three peoples. It is my way of thanking him for his stories, one of the most beautiful gifts I have ever received.

The title “She Never Promised a Rose Garden” evokes very powerful imagery. How important was this evocative dimension compared with the harmonic and rhythmic construction of the piece?
The piece takes its title from Joanne Greenberg’s book I Never Promised You a Rose Garden, a semi-autobiographical account of mental illness and the journey toward recovery. I imagined a kind of soundtrack: from the opening melody, which gradually builds toward the most difficult moment, represented by the piano solo, to the return of the theme in a major key, symbolizing healing.

“La Piccola Principessa” features guest vocals by Arianna Teolis. How did the idea of introducing a vocal element into an otherwise entirely instrumental album come about?
The piece began as a beat conceived for a spoken text, built on a structure of four repeated bars supporting two increasingly dense melodies. I wanted to involve my sister, who wrote and recited the text after we reflected together on imagination, nature, and war: “Imagination transforms clouds into new games.” In the studio, Arianna, who is nine years old, showed up like a true star, and after just two takes we already had all the material we needed. Her confidence in front of the microphone surprised me. Singing “La Piccola Principessa” in unison with her was an unforgettable experience.

“Time Lapse of Climate Change,” which closes the album, has a very contemporary title. Did the piece emerge from a specific reflection on the present, or is it more of a musical metaphor for change?
“Time Lapse of Climate Change,” which closes the album, grew out of a reflection on climate change imagined as a time-lapse of landscapes and states of mind in constant transformation. The ending is a cry of hope for a better future, as saxophonist Carletto Conti used to say: “We truly believe in a better world, and this is no joke!”

The sextet’s instrumentation—with cello and bassoon alongside the jazz rhythm section—creates a very distinctive timbral landscape. When composing, do you think first about the melodic material or the orchestral color?
The melodic and timbral choices on the album fed into one another. I studied the cello and bassoon in depth in order to combine their characteristics with the melodies I imagined. By listening to a great deal of orchestral music, thanks in part to the symphonic season at the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, I discovered how these instruments, with their warm sound and wide range, can work both as soloists and as accompanying instruments. These are also the qualities I look for in the trumpet and flugelhorn: the singing quality of the cello and the incisiveness of the bassoon.

In the album’s liner notes, Dave Douglas recalls your first meeting in Rome in 2013, when you were just fourteen years old. Looking at your album today, how much did that encounter influence the way you think about composition and the role of the bandleader?
My encounter with Dave Douglas, thirteen years ago now, had a profound impact on my journey. I was fortunate enough to follow him in concert and to study with him at the Siena Jazz seminars, where he also awarded me a scholarship. Over the years, our relationship continued through private lessons and then on Zoom during the pandemic. Dave, a great trumpeter and composer, followed my development closely and also guided me through the composition, arrangement, and orchestration of The Moving Forest. That is why receiving the liner notes for the album from him was such an emotional moment: “It brings me great happiness for our future to hear this recording… this record is the starting of something big. Iacopo will lead us. Follow him. Where he goes, the music goes.”

Who are your jazz and non-jazz heroes?
It’s impossible not to start with the greats of jazz. I began playing the trumpet at the age of nine after hearing Louis Armstrong perform “La Vie en Rose,” which was the true starting point of my journey. Alongside jazz, I also listen to a great deal of other music: Elizabeth Cotten (“Freight Train,” “When I’m Gone”), Wyatt Waddell (“Love Is a Game”), Rushad Eggleston (“6th Grade”), and, of course, the Beatles, among whose songs I recently rediscovered “I’ve Just Seen a Face.”

What is your secret dream?
I’ve never really thought about it. I would like to travel as much as possible, though—to experience different cultures and discover new flavors, places, and sounds. I would like to live a life full of art, shared with the people I care about, searching every day for beauty, curiosity, and inspiration. In the end, that is the real dream: to be happy.

Is there a musician you would like to play with?
Just one? If I can name three, today I’d choose Brian Blade, Brad Mehldau, and Björk. But who knows about tomorrow!

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