With encompassing subtlety and delicacy of touch, Guillermo Gregorio, Pandelis Karayorgis, and Mat Maneri range over the musical spectrum on this disc. Without the theatrics of Sun Ra, but with a kindred sensibility, the trio turns from the unstintingly abstract "Crimson Mountain" to Fletcher Henderson's "Red Dust." Gregorio's clarinet catapults back in time for a moment - leading into an improvisation of the same prickly abstract, low-voltage quality as that which graced the first track. The most riveting action comes toward the end of the track, when the trio works Henderson's theme into the framework of the abstractions they've been exploring.

And so the tone of the whole disc is set. Gregorio essays "These Foolish Things" on tenor, as quietly as is his trademark to be, mournfully and almost unaccompanied. The tune is stretched almost beyond recognition but never quite breaks, and becomes the source and foundation for a new launch into the wild unknown. Likewise Red Norvo's "1-2-3-4 Jump," on which Maneri and Karayorgis lead the way.
"Slipped Fifths," another Gregorio original, is more unyieldingly abstract (although always restrained and unruffled); it features Maneri at his best, fluttering with the leader on the edge of silence. On these tracks all three players approach the "duet with silence" Steve Lacy attempts in his solo concerts. Maneri and the rest are more animated on "Woodchopper's Nightmare," a haunted Gregorio excursion on various common pre-bop phrases. The trio is at its most telepathic here.

On "Red Skies" Karayorgis is magnificent, and Gregorio weaves some breathtaking lines with him on clarinet. Chuck Wayne's "Cottontop" is dour but somehow playful as well: a dry joke. Bing Crosby's "Chu's Spectre" is charming, albeit scarcely recognizable. Red Norvo's "Lost Weekend" is closer to home, although no less adventurous. The finale, "Ana's Lullaby," begins by stalking inexorably, but, fittingly enough, loses its way in the tall reeds.

A fascinating disc by three master musicians.
Robert Spencer, www.CDReview.com, AllAboutJazz.com

Guillermo Gregorio has a unique bead on the gray area between post-serialist composition and cool school-informed chamber jazz. The Argentine reed player understands that implication is the communicative strong suit of both genres. Subsequently, serious attention must be paid to Gregorio's music, where understatement resonates with a quiet power.

On Red Cube(d), Gregorio connects aspects of the swing era, West Coast jazz, and the third stream, with a fluid ensemble approach to improvisation. His trio with pianist Pandelis Karayorgis and violinist Mat Maneri is the perfect unit for such an endeavor; like Gregorio, they both place a premium on concision, and have the requisite idiomatic moorings to give fragmentary statements an allusive, ember-like glow.

In his liner notes, Gregorio recounts Billy Bauer's story of how he and Flip Phillips would freely improvise in their off hours in hotel rooms, avoiding noise-related confrontations by throwing a blanket over themselves to muffle the music. This is an apt starting point to conceptualize the sound of Gregorio's trio-a hushed blend of voices, a spontaneous exchange at point-blank range. While Gregorio has previously recorded several compelling clarinet performances, Red Cube(d) features his most cogent outings on tenor saxophone to date. He invokes essences of Phillips, Chu Berry, and Lester Young, with authority.
Bill Shoemaker, Jazz Times, July/August 1999

One of the most interesting things about this solo date of Guillermo Gregorio — late of Franz Koglmann's Pipetet - is how similar his original music sounds to Mat Maneri's. There is no doubt they are kindred spirits, given that they both hold contemporary classical music and jazz in a double bind, forcing them ever closer together despite the individual resistance of each music. Both are also keen improvisers who believe in the power of understatement and rounded edges — and Maneri is a violinist! All of this said, this is a curiously beautiful recording. Maybe it's the abstraction and montage technique used on Gregorio's originals such as "Slipped Fifths," "Woodchopper's Nightmare," or "Red Skies," in which the strange becomes familiar, or the melodic. Or perhaps it's asymmetrical, dissonant readings of the classics here, such as Fletcher Henderson's "Red Dust," Red Norvo and Flip Phillips' "1-2-3-Jump!," or "Chu's Specter: Ghost of a Chance" written by Bing Crosby and cohorts. No matter, the record is somewhat disorienting, though charmingly so. A lot will be made of how new this all is. What is new is that a record by a trio such as this would be made at all. Here are three very understated payers, performing a difficult brand of musical hijinks, where improvisation, compositions, and different classifications attempt to become one, rather than co-exist as comfortable opposites. The odd timbres and overtones created by Maneri's violin playing counterpoint to both Gregorio and Karayorgis simultaneously are lovely, as are Gregorio's instincts: he knows just when to let the melody through between harmonies — which shift — and improvisation. It's obvious he longs to be an arranger — and should be. But this is music that is tender yet not mature enough to speak with a full voice. It's a good bet that the well will get much deeper before too long.
Thom Jurek, All Music Guide