Amateur hour for a post-modern pianist. So delicate it might fall apart in your hands.
A classically-trained concert pianist might sniff at this, rock CD buyers glance at the title and move on. Which is inevitable but a shame because these naked and unashamed piano sonatas have a delicate beauty all of their own. This represents the full-fruition of the featherlight technique first pioneered on Like the Whispering of the Wind, the images evoked may be conventional – gentle breezes, falling leaves – but the avoidance of traditional chordal patterns yields a tender freshness from a stale instrument. If you let these fluid structure lap over and don’t fall into the trap of puzzling why they don’t actually take you anywhere, then Piano Piano begins to exert its spell on you. It may come on like a typically late 1980s, Roedelius album waiting for the usual organ and sax overdubs, but this naked undefendness lares bare the innate musicality that even underlies even his most dissonant electronica.
