A misty Japanese landscape… haikus; concentrated, yet transparent, like calligraphy…
A structure of ebony and ivory, a spiraling slow-motion…
This is not to be hurried, not to be forced, but to let happen, let flow, let move in a natural direction, like the Lapland streams flowing down from the glaciers up above, between the snowy summits, always finding the natural way down to the meandering river in the valley.
I don’t say that these sparse keyboard locations (like birds settling on little rocks out in the sea) bring on exactly the same atmospheres as some of the pieces by Morton Feldman – but the analogy is self-evident: the notes that sort of just trickle slowly, one after the other, forming, not necessarily a melody, but… a row of notes… Yes, these pieces constitute – trigger – a certain feeling of restfulness, of the northern mountains, of the way your body feels after a long day’s trek across rough terrain, through fords and up steep climbs; the way the body feels as you sit down, gulping the glacier water, mineral rich and tasty, and the warmth and tiredness flows through your anatomy.
(…)
It takes a lot of human experience, human maturity – and intuition – to compose, play… and listen to these pieces. They are true gems; water drops on spider webs in low sunlight through the woods.
I’ll say no more. I’ll just listen… listen…
Avaliações
Ainda não existem avaliações.