[1][2] In the album liner notes, Bill Shoemaker wrote: "Maneri met the demands of readying and premiering a piece commissioned by one of the world's great cultural institutions, one composed and performed by perhaps the most visionary piano virtuoso of the past half-century (with whom Maneri had not previously played, even informally), all in a single day.

"[4] Rex Butters, writing for All About Jazz, commented: "Algonquin features the pianist alongside violinist Mat Maneri, recorded before an audibly appreciative audience.

"[5] In a separate All About Jazz review, Clifford Allen remarked: "An ever-increasing architectural complexity is fostered by Taylor's music, a continuous feed of structural cells that repeat and build upon one another, often seemingly straying rather far from the original cell but remaining tied to it through 'feeling,' an indescribable weight that lies behind his compositional philosophy of unit structures... it is rather ironic that Algonquin, a partnership with electric violinist Mat Maneri... both exists and works as well as it does... Maneri appears to make scant use of Taylor's structures and only touches on the sonic directions that Cecil points to.

Where James P. Johnson rolls and intense runs fill space, Maneri lightly bends notes in ethereal filigree, a feisty complement to Cecil's opus.

Rather than offer a violinistic counterpart to Taylor's virtuosity and visceral power, Maneri courageously sticks to his understated, soft-spoken style, which fuses free jazz, traditional folk fiddling, and baroque bowing techniques in a compelling, organic whole.

In other words, as close to being alone as possible, with the comfort of intelligent company... Maneri aptly holds his own, and there is a generosity on the part of Taylor that is less often obvious.