A long-standing musical partnership with Laurent Courthaliac reaches a new chapter with the release of his first album in ten years. A decade in which his artistic voice has quietly deepened and refined itself, as though his musical language had been shedding excess weight, gradually moving toward something more distilled, more precise, more essential. During these years of quiet maturation, Courthaliac has become one of the most sought-after arrangers on the scene, lending his touch to a host of notable recordings. What sets him apart is a rare way of hearing: an ear attuned to the smallest inner movements of the music. He shifts harmonic colors with painterly care, opens unexpected perspectives within familiar material, and reshapes the sound from the inside out - a patient form of musical alchemy. His language is firmly rooted in bebop and the great American tradition, a world he explored deeply alongside Barry Harris and other towering figures of jazz. Yet rather than remaining within that lineage, he has allowed it to breathe and evolve, guided by an uncommon sensitivity and a restless curiosity always reaching toward new horizons. With In the Key of Sinatra, two central strands of his musical life finally converge: the pianist and the arranger. It feels as though, after years of traveling parallel paths, these two voices have found a shared terrain - a place where conception and expression meet in full dialogue.When we first began imagining this album, the task felt both exciting and daunting. The repertoire touches some of the most iconic pages associated with the greatest of crooners - songs so deeply woven into our collective memory that they seem almost untouchable. The challenge was not simply to honor them, but to reopen them: to rediscover within these well-known melodies a living space where a new interpretation could breathe. Courthaliac approached this process with near-monastic patience. Each song was dismantled, examined, and patiently reassembled, as though he were searching for a hidden key within it's architecture. Watching the process unfold was fascinating: revisiting, adjusting, starting again - until, little by little, the music settled into that delicate point of equilibrium where a familiar song suddenly feels new again. In this adventure, bassist Sylvain Romano and drummer Gautier Garrigue proved to be invaluable companions. They move through the music with natural elegance, bringing the kind of flexibility, listening, and conversational instinct that only the finest musicians possess. Their presence gives the music room to breathe, to stretch, and to swing freely.The question of the singer remained. For the five songs that feature vocals, the encounter with Christie Dashiell proved decisive. She brings a remarkable intensity and sincerity, allowing emotion to flow along it's most direct and luminous path. Hugh Coltman, perhaps an unexpected presence in this repertoire, enters it with disarming grace. His voice inhabits these songs in a deeply personal way, casting them in a subtle, intimate light that reveals new emotional shades. And while Courthaliac confirms himself here as a remarkable musical director, the album also reveals something new in his playing.As a pianist he seems transformed, venturing into the most intimate corners of the instrument, right at the heart of the sound. Swing is everywhere, his touch is brilliant, yet his improvisations remain free of mannerism, guided above all by a deep and unconditional love for these melodies.Laurent Courthaliac is a musical partner of rare exacting standards. Every detail matters, every nuance is weighed, every silence has meaning. Throughout this project, the aim was to push beyond habit and familiar reference points, seeking that fragile balance between rigor and freedom - the place where music, at last, finds it's truest light.Daniel Yvinec