Tag: MicroFest Records

CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Los Angeles

Microfest Records – Flotsam and Jetsam

Flotsam & Jetsam is a new release by Microfest Records that features pieces by three contemporary composers. Altromondo (2013-15, rev. 2018), by Kurt Rohde, consists of ten tracks as performed by Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay. Titanium (2014), by João Pedro Oliveira, is performed by the piano duo of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay, Nothing hidden that will not be revealed (2007, rev. 2019), by Alan Shockley, is also performed by Kallay. These pieces are comprised mostly of piano music although there are many extended techniques as well as other unusual instruments included. The album is sub-titled “Music for Piano and Assorted Accoutrements” and as a result, each piece has its own distinctive characteristics.

The first piece on the album is Kurt Rohde’s Altromondo, written for piano duo. This proceeds in ten shortish movements of between two and seven minutes each. In addition to playing extended techniques on the prepared piano, the performers are also called upon to incorporate sounds from a variety of items such as the melodica, harmonica, Chinese paper accordions, triangles and antique cymbals. The inspiration of the piece is roughly nautical, with movements such as “flotsam”, “jetsam” and “derelict”. The music has an unconventional and otherworldly texture that is constantly shifting, coalescing, scattering and then reassembling itself as it flows along. The album notes for the final movement serves to summarize the entire structure of Altromondo: “All things are an assembly of parts; even the parts have parts, moving or still, adding up to a whole, breaking down further to the breakably small.”

The first movement of Altromondo is “piano…piano [homonym]” and this acts as an introduction to the entire piece. Light bell tones ring out, quietly accompanied by a repeating two note line from the melodica. Mysterious phrases now emanate from the melodica, dominating the texture. Rising scales, disjointed rhythms and independent lines evolve into what sounds like a chattering conversation. A short silence is followed by a renewal of the bell tones and a more solemn melody line. The piano enters with aggressive rhythms that disrupt the restful feeling and build to a sudden ending. The contrast between the bell tones, melodica and piano create a distinctive texture that seems to oscillate between the abstract and the conventional. Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay establish an effective foundation for the diverse combinations later heard throughout the entire piece.

“Flotsam” and “Jetsam”, title tracks for the album, are two of the shorter movements in Altromondo and are most directly inspired by the nautical theme. Jetsam refers to material thrown overboard from a ship that is sinking or struggling in heavy seas. This movement begins with strong piano chords in the middle registers, perhaps signifying some distress. There are syncopated melodic notes accompanied by single notes that arc above, bringing a mysterious and introspective feel. Rapid rhythms and descending scales cascade into a gentle harmony at the finish. “Jetsam” evokes the panic and drama of lightening the load when facing disaster. “Flotsam” illustrates the consequences of debris seen scattered across the water. Straightforward chords in conventional harmony open, but now stern, declarative chords add a certain tension. The presence of flotsam indicates a state of maritime disorder, and the rhythms become increasingly disorganized and jumpy to the unsettled finish. All of this is expressively played with a stylish and engaging flair.

Other movements are playfully off the maritime theme. “aside: Let Me Play With Your Poodle”, the fifth movement, opens with a strong piano chord and uptempo ‘fanfare’ passage. Complex independent passages in various registers provide an intricate, yet stylish sound, reminiscent of 1930s dance music. The third movement, “aside the side I” opens with soft repeating phrases in middle/high register with intriguing harmony. The lovely feel to this interrupted suddenly by strong, deep chord. This is more introspective than the other movements and described as ‘Himmelmusik’ in the album notes. Movement 7, “aside the side II” expands on this. Other tracks on the album are similarly surprising and imaginative.

Masterfully performed by Genevieve Feiwen Lee and Aron Kallay, Altromondo presents a wonderful assemblage of musical sounds not often heard together, creating new textures and nuances that stimulate the imagination in unexpected ways.

The second piece on the album is Titanium by João Pedro Oliveira, performed by the piano duo of Vicki Ray and Aron Kallay. One of four works by Oliveira inspired by the earthly elements and, more specifically, the Greek gods of strength, Titanium is full of rapid bursts of abstract phrases that create a mysterious and slightly ominous atmosphere. There is an excellent mix of low rumbling in the piano with light percussion riding above. All of this is played with careful attention to precision, and while complex, it is never overwhelming. An inventive mix of sounds, it is space-like at times with a slightly alien feel. The phrasing changes in some detail but overall this piece has similar structural lines throughout.

At 9:00 the tempo slows and the texture thins out with short stretches of silence between the passages. Still mysterious but now more transparent as the layering of sounds is somewhat reduced. The feeling is more distant and remote as a series of sharp piano chords build to the finish. Titanium is a nicely balanced mixture of the abstract and the accessible, skillfully realized by the Ray-Kallay duo.

The final work, Nothing hidden that will not be revealed, by Alan Shockley is 25 minutes in duration and the longest piece of the album. A great variety of sounds and expressions are heard in this piece, all exquisitely played by Aron Kallay. Dramatic and mysterious, the piece was Inspired by Buddhist themes and sayings from the Gnostic gospels. Alan Shockley writes that “This is a piece about the sounds behind the sounds being actuated by the player’s hands on the keys. Every sound is connected to other sounds, resonances, ghosts, and sympathetic vibrations.”

Nothing hidden … begins with a quiet opening chord, distant and remote. Short, rapid phrases repeat in middle piano registers. A low rumble is heard, followed by meandering passages and angry pounding. The mysterious feel to this is enhanced by contentious passages that vary in tempo and dynamic. The piece proceeds, shifting back and forth between quiet, single notes and louder, ponderous sounds. Kallay strums on the piano strings, adding a distinctly alien element. There are great contrasts throughout, reflecting an almost bipolar character. Nothing hidden … is pensive at times, as if waiting to spring on the listener.

At 10:45 a great cluster chord booms out like a sudden explosion. In contrast, soft conventional chords soon appear, interspersed with various extended techniques. Quieter cluster chords are heard like distant thunder. The audio engineering on this piece is exceptional – the nuances of all the many unconventional sounds are clearly heard. At 15:45 a hymn melody is heard with some baroque ornamentation – a welcome bit of familiarity. Sharply dynamic chords follow, sounding like lightning strikes along with distant rumbles in the lower registers. A series of repeating single low notes sound like a the striking of a clock tower. The piece slows and fades towards its finish, as if winding down. Nothing hidden that will not be revealed skillfully weaves a great variety of sounds and textures from the piano, all masterfully played by Aron Kallay.

Flotsam & Jetsam delivers a vibrant palette of colors and textures that expand the expressive possibilities of contemporary piano music beyond the conventional.

Flotsam & Jetsam is available directly as a digital download from Microfest Records.

by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical, Music Instruments

MicroFest Records – Harry Partch, 1942

Harry Partch, 1942 is a combination CD and printed hardcover book from MicroFest Records that documents the events leading up to Partch’s pivotal recital in Kilbourn Hall at the Eastman School of Music on November 3, 1942. This proved to be the turning point in Partch’s career, after many years of frustration and hardship pursuing his innovative tuning theory. The CD contains the original recording of the recital and lecture at Kilbourn Hall and includes The Lord is My Shepherd, selections from Seventeen Lyrics by Li Po and the iconic Barstow. The book brings together notes, letters, newspaper accounts and Partch’s own artistic manifesto. When combined, his recorded words and music produce a deeper appreciation of this immensely influential composer.

Those who follow new music at some point become aware of Harry Partch as a pioneer of alternate tuning theory and the creator of handmade acoustic instruments. We have likely heard a performance of the popular Barstow and formed a rather hazy image of Partch as a luckless vagabond toiling away in obscurity. While all this is partly true, Harry Partch, 1942 provides a wealth of material that illuminates an active and highly developed intellect that will cause even the most doubtful listener to reconsider the value of his work.

In the center of the book is a reproduced copy of Partch’s hand-typed resume: “The Music Philosophy and Work of Harry Partch Composer – Instrument Builder and Player – Theorist.” This occupies a dozen pages and includes sections on his music theory and system, notation, his instruments and a personal biography. This alone makes Harry Partch, 1942 worth owning. The biography is especially revealing and describes his early interest in the science of wave theory – especially the Helmholtz-Ellis book Sensations of Tone. This resulted in the conviction that conventional music lacked ‘true intervals’ and the remedy Partch proposed was a tuning system that contained no less than 43 divisions of the octave. He soon began building several specialized musical instruments designed to achieve this. The book also describes how Partch continued his private research in the British Museum in London, studying Greek and other historical tuning systems. A visit with W.B. Yeats in Dublin evolved into the theory of ‘speech music’; the idea that music should contain the inflections and rhythmic patterns that give human speech its emotional power. The depth and discipline of Partch’s self-directed study is astonishing.

Harry Partch, 1942 also describes the difficulties he endured during his long struggle to advance his unique musical vision. Partch worked for a time in the proofing rooms of various California newspapers as well as other odd jobs to support his art. Always short of funds, he nevertheless continued to experiment with tuning and the construction his instruments. He was, as he described in his biography, “…beginning to retrace the whole history of the theory of music.” When the ‘adapted viola’ was completed Partch gave countless demonstrations and networked among local California musicians and music patrons. He applied for, and was awarded, a Carnegie Grant of $1500 that allowed him to travel to England to further his research. Upon his return he lived in a small cabin in Carmel, CA to further refine his new instruments. Eventually Partch built the viola, two reed organs, a kitharn and the adapted guitar. As compiled by John Schneider, the liner notes and text in Harry Partch, 1942 covers all of this in detail, without being tedious or boring.

The book also describes Partch’s 1941 epiphany in Carmel, the legendary two-week hitch-hiking journey to Chicago and his efforts there to promote his music. Famously, Partch arrived in Chicago with just ten cents in his pocket but soon embarked on a series of undesirable jobs while supporting his music. There is a copy of a November, 1941 concert bill at the Chicago School of Design, where Partch performed, that also included works by John Cage and Lou Harrison. The book also has copies of the letters that Partch wrote to various new music luminaries to solicit support, and these efforts ultimately gained him an invitation from Howard Hanson to lecture and perform at the Eastman School the following year. Harry Partch, 1942 carefully lays out the sequence of circumstances that led up to this decisive moment in his career.

The CD included with the book was crafted from the original recording of his appearance in Kilbourn Hall. The CD is divided up into 16 separate tracks, each containing a distinctive element of the lecture. The first thing you notice is that, although not studio perfect, the quality is surprisingly good given the technology of the early recording machines in use at the time. Scott Fraser’s restoration work here is especially noteworthy. Partch’s lecturing is also remarkable in that he is articulate, thoughtful and always in full command of his subject. The explanations and demonstrations of his tuning scheme and instruments are full of technical detail, yet concise and eloquent. His engagement with the student audience is notable, especially with his singing and sly humor. No doubt Partch had much previous experience presenting his ideas, but his delivery in this recording is polished and a pleasure to hear.

In the CD, Partch describes and then demonstrates his speech music technique with The Lord is My Shepherd (23d Psalm), sung and accompanied by the composer playing the chromolodian. The adapted viola is introduced and then used to accompany several of the Seventeen Lyrics by Li Po. This proves to be a more effective demonstration with the exotic drama of the English translation nicely complimented by the timbre and diverse pitch set of the viola. An enthusiastic ovation follows, doubtless inspired by Partch’s masterful playing as the vocals are clearly heard working in tandem with the expressive lyrics. Far from his reputation as the rumpled vagabond, Partch here shows himself to be a first-rate performer.

The final sections of the CD are devoted to Barstow, with Partch describing his adapted guitar along with the background and origins of this enduring work. As Barstow is speech music, based on the interaction between the singing voice and accompaniment, we have in this fine recording the definitive performance by it’s talented composer.

Harry Partch, 1942 is a brilliantly organized portrait of the events in a critical year for Harry Partch – and for new music in general. This handsome book, with its meticulously engineered CD, belongs on the bookshelf of anyone who is studying or working in alternate tuning.

Harry Partch, 1942 is available from MicroFest Records and Amazon.




by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical

Aron Kallay, Beyond 12 Vol 2

Beyond 12: Reinventing the Piano Volume 2 is a new CD release of piano music from MicroFest Records featuring Grammy-nominated pianist Aron Kallay. Beyond 12 refers to the conventional scale in Western music that has 12 equal divisions to the octave. Kallay, however, goes beyond that limitation by the use of a digital grand piano that configures the keyboard for alternate tuning systems. New pieces were solicited from eight different contemporary composers with only two ground rules: 1) Re-tune the keyboard, from extended just intonation to 88 equal-divisions of the octave and everything in between. 2) Re-map the keyboard, left can be right, high can be low; pitches need not be in order. Beyond 12 – Volume 2 vividly demonstrates the forward possibilities of alternate tuning in new music.

Sidereal Delay (2004) opens the album on track 1. This is the third piece in a suite of four preludes by Jeffrey Harrington and employs a tuning that divides the octave into 19 equal divisions. There is a lovely shower of notes at the beginning – like watching flower petals thrown into the air and fluttering down to the ground. Rapid phrases ebb and flow, then decrescendo to a brief quiet. The alternate tuning is heard, but blends so well into the melody and harmony that it becomes an expected and natural element of the music. After a brief silence, another section begins in similar form and tempo, with a rush of sunny notes running down to silence. The overall feeling is one of buoyancy and good cheer.

Subsequent sections of Sidereal Delay feature comparable structures – some have a stronger presence while others are more restrained. Kallay’s playing is rapid and accurate, without being tedious or pedantic. The expressive warmth of the composition comes through and the overall feeling is full of optimism and good will. Sidereal Delay, at slightly under 5 minutes, is a masterful application of tuning in the service of its amiable musical intentions.

I’m Worried Now, by Monroe Golden, is next and employs an alternate tuning scheme in a much different context – that of emotional tension. Golden, who hails from Alabama, uses an old chain gang folk song as the inspiration for this piece. The composer writes in the liner notes that the tuning scheme consists of “…five Extended Just tunings, (1) 13-limit with a common tone functioning as different partials, (2 and 3) microtonal bass notes with a treble drone in octaves, (4) a lower tetrachord encompassing the black keys and upper tetrachord encompassing the white keys, ranging to the 91st partial, and (5) a I-IV-V relationship with the keyboard divided into three zones, each with partials up to 23.” Despite this formidable description, the resulting music delivers a perfectly balanced sense of anxiety, sharpened by the unconventional pitches that are sprinkled throughout the harmony.

After a quietly tense opening there is a section with rapidly moving phrases in the higher registers and low notes in counterpoint below. This sounds almost ‘normal’ with the faster tempo and rhythms serving to maintain a sense of apprehension even as a lively melody emerges in the bass that borders on the jovial. A slower section follows, when suddenly a strong roar of slurred descending notes jumps out in full fury, reigniting the sense of inescapable dread. More languidly slow stretches follow, mixed with pounding passages and rapid phrases infused with disquiet, adeptly fashioned from the unconventional tuning materials. Towards the finish, the melody of a familiar hymn is heard, and the piece concludes with quietly restful chords. The wide variety of sounds and textures has Kallay all over the keyboard, but he manages to navigate each new gesture with his usual poise. I’m Worried Now brilliantly builds on its alternate tuning scheme to clearly convey emotional uncertainty within an accessible musical syntax.

The longest piece of the album is Clouds of Clarification, by Robert Carl. The composer writes that this piece represents “… a further step in developing an overtone-based harmonic practice.” Carl states that Kallay’s re-tunable digital piano “… is able to preserve the actual just intonation tuning of its twelve pitches based on overtones in relation to their respective fundamental. Thus each will be a truly ‘pure’ interval. “

Clouds of Clarification proceeds in four movements and the first, “Introduction: Ebb and Flow”, begins with strong opening chords that ring out solidly and establish a sense of anticipation. Trills, combined with a series of exclamatory notes, add a feeling of expectation. The tuning is noticeable, but not alien to the ear, and the careful handling of the just intonation intervals makes for a consistently consonant blend of pitches. Next is “Maestoso: Earth Processional” and this movement begins with a low chord that is deep and quietly mysterious. A series of repeating solitary notes add a tentative feel as more chords are heard in the middle registers along with increasing dynamics. Less confident than the opening movement, this ultimately evolves to a softer and more introspective feeling towards the finish.

The third movement, “Scherzo: Wind Dances” is just that – music full of breezy syncopated rhythms, rapid runs and repeating phrases that all combine to provide a sense of energy and freedom. Repeating chords appear with rapid arpeggios that suggest wind gusts and the music often starts and stops in fits, like a swirling breeze. A blast of hammering chords is combined with a sprinkle of rapidly descending notes to add a stormy feel. Turbulent notes spray all over the keyboard, calling on Kallay’s highest virtuosity in this whirlwind of a movement. “Coda: Consumed by Fire” completes the piece and this is also active and energetic. There are stretches with rapid, unconnected passages and gestures that suggest capricious, flame-like movement. As the piece proceeds, the tempo slows and the notes become softer and fewer, longer and with embedded silences as if the fire is burning itself out.

Clouds of Clarification is a technically challenging piece – and the listener is naturally drawn to the velocity and agitation of the notes. The polish of the just intonation tuning, however, provides a sonority that artfully mirrors the surfaces of the natural phenomena portrayed in each of these four colorful movements.

Veronika Krausas has contributed two miniatures to the album, the first being Une Petite Bagatelle written in 2013. Built around 2/7 comma meantone tuning, this piece fully embraces the playfulness of its title. Une Petite Bagatelle opens with a brilliant flurry of notes that reach upward in a series of bright tones. This phrasing repeats and the piece then continues with a strong melody line and deep chords in the bass. The alternate tuning here adds an impish shimmer to the texture that is very appealing.

Terços, the second piece, was commissioned for this CD and opens with a series of meandering phrases that suggest uncertainty. A distinctive melody arises from the tuning with a hard, sparkling surface that is pleasantly engaging to the ear. Another wandering set of phrases and some simple chords that hint at mystery conclude the piece as the final chords ring out nicely. Tercos and Une Petite Bagatelle, although concise, adroitly exploit the aesthetic implications of their alternate tuning.

Involuntary Bohlen Piercing, by Nick Norton, originated as an academic assignment requiring that a new piece be conceived and completed in 48 hours. In order that it should be completely original – and also meet the specifications of Beyond 12 – Norton chose the Bohlen-Pierce alternate tuning scheme. The composer writes: “Bohlen-Pierce temperament uses the 12th instead of the octave as the interval of transposition and inversion, and then divides that 12th into thirteen step equal temperament. The result of it is that everything sounds crazy.”

Involuntary Bohlen Piercing begins with deep, dark chords followed by series of halting, off-beat notes and a smattering of higher register runs above. The unconventional tuning is conspicuous throughout, bringing a recognizably alien feel to the repeating phrases and exclamatory chords as the piece proceeds. The texture soon thickens with booming chords below and runs of higher notes above that serve to heighten the anxiety. The tempo then begins to slow, and the density of notes thins out, but the tension remains. Even as the final phrases die quietly away, a strong sense of the unusual persists. Involuntary Bohlen Piercing is a particularly well-crafted example of how thoroughly the tuning scheme can pervade and influence every aspect of a piece.

The Blur of Time and Memory, by Alexander Elliott Miller, was written in 2014 specifically for the MicroFest Beyond 12 series. The composer writes that this piece “… utilizes a tuning system in which half steps are divided into five equal tempered steps, but selected pitches are removed from the keyboard in segments altogether, allowing the 88 keys to cover a wider range.” The editing out of some notes within an alternate tuning scheme is a common practice by composers working with many divisions of the octave and in this piece it becomes possible to have stretches of conventional harmony as well as completely new effects.

The Blur of Time and Memory begins with an arpeggio and a series of pensive notes in the middle and lower registers. This is followed by several chords that fully expose the alternate tuning. There is a sense of controlled unease in the quiet stretches and a more assertive tension when the density and dynamics increase. The closeness of the pitches in the expanded half-steps add a distinctive blurring effect to the melody. Five divisions to the half-step is surely an exacting challenge for any pianist, and Kallay here further advances his claim to alternate tuning excellence; his sure touch propels the piece forward with a gentle ebb and flow between the softer and stronger passages, as if in a dream. The Blur of Time and Memory is solidly crafted and makes full use of the many pitches in its tuning palette to add new emotional colors to the harmony and phrasing.

Track 11 contains Paths of the Wind, by Bill Alves, composed in 2010 and is dedicated to Aron Kallay. Inspired by the Vayu Purana, a Hindu text, the composer writes that the tuning is “…based on interlocking pathways of numbers, namely two, three, and seven.” Opening with a low, repeated rumbling in lower registers with a single repeated note slightly higher in pitch, there is an immediate sense of expectation. The intrigue builds as more notes and chords are added in the middle registers and the roiling texture produces a beautifully awesome sense of natural power. The alternate tuning is an integral part of the sound, but not the most distinctive element – this remarkable portrayal of the wind is almost completely captured through the thickening texture. As the dynamics and complexity build relentlessly, it seems that Aron Kallay must have at least 15 fingers to produce such a prodigious outpouring of sound.

At 5:00, however, there is a sudden reduction to a few repeating high notes and a running figure slightly below – just a trickle of what had previously been a flood. A sense of peaceful serenity emerges like a gentle breeze after a storm. A few dark chords appear, suggesting a distant menace, but the music gracefully fades to a quiet finish. The thick, repeating phrases, the fluid feel and Kallay’s impressive playing make Paths of the Wind a striking musical description of a powerful natural force.

The final track on the album is The Weasel of Melancholy, by Eric Moe, written during 2013 and commissioned by Aron Kallay. Inspired by traditional Thai music, this piece is constructed from a seven-note scale with half-steps added to produce a 14 pitch palette in equal temperament. Weasel opens quietly, with a serene and mostly conventional feeling. The melody above and counterpoint below combine with the alternate tuning notes to add just the right amount of introspective coloring. This settled and somber sensibility is heightened, but never dominated, by the unconventional tuning and the piece strikes a deft balance between familiar and new pitches within the 14 step scale. Towards the finish the tempo slows as the number of notes thin out and the piece glides to a subdued conclusion. The Weasel of Melancholy artfully leverages its straightforward tuning construction to create a carefully blended depiction of the mournful shades of melancholy.

That all of the pieces on this album employ alternate tuning is a great advantage to the listener. The ear becomes more accustomed to the presence of new pitches and less distracted by preexisting expectations. The exacting performances by Aron Kallay only add to the accessibility of this music. The composers who have contributed to this project are, in a sense, genetic engineers. Each composition on Beyond 12: Reinventing the Piano – Volume 2 widens the listener’s understanding of how tuning is foundational to the DNA of all music.

Beyond 12: Reinventing the Piano, Vol 2 is available from direct from MicroFest Records and Amazon Music.





by Paul Muller
CD Review, Contemporary Classical

Jeffrey Holmes – Rider of Darkness, Path of Light

MicroFest Records has released Rider of Darkness, Path of Light, a new CD by composer Jeffrey Holmes that offers a potent brew of the Old Norse filled with “…primitive myths, transcendent legends, and dramatic elemental landscapes in their primal and violent natural states.” All of this is expressed in “post-spectral, teleological music incorporating elements of mysticism and lyrical expression.” The four pieces on this album are performed by a number of leading Los Angeles area and East Coast musicians along with solo vocalists Nicholas Isherwood and Kirsten Ashley Wiest.

The first track is Urðarmána [Moon of Fate] (2012), as performed by pianist Mark Robson and bass baritone Nicholas Isherwood. The text is in Old Norse, partly written by the composer and partly drawn from historical Eddic poetry. The liner notes helpfully include a full English translation. Urðarmána opens with high, sharp runs of piano notes, all brittle and shattered, falling like shards of broken glass. The bass entrance is deep and profound, full of operatic power and presence, darkly intoning the Norse text: “It was a moon of fate. Amidst both wind and rain…” The piano line weaves in and out, building tension in a series of wandering phrases. Isherwood’s voice often reaches down to a very low register, always with masterful assurance and expression.

As the piece proceeds, the piano accompanies with deep chords and skittering runs, adding to the sense of menace. The steady voice holds everything is balance even as the text tells of prophecy, stormy weather, impending sacrifice and great sadness. At the finish, the bass reverently intones “I will not blaspheme the gods…as you saved me from near death.” Isherwood’s singing in Norse is perfectly convincing and artfully precise as is the piano accompaniment of Mark Robson. The independence of the piano line and the vocals is manifestly apparent, yet they compliment each other perfectly. Urðarmána [Moon of Fate] is exquisitely expressive and a highly evocative portrait of the spiritual state of our Norse cousins from over a thousand years past.

Track 2, Hagall (Haglaz) [Hail] (2015) follows, performed by the Talea Ensemble conducted by David Fulmer. Hail is a common feature of Nordic weather, especially during the late autumn, and signifies the transformation to winter. Inspired by Old Norse runic symbols for the seasons, Hagall unfolds in three contiguous sections representing the nuances of hail, sleet and snowy weather. The liner notes state that the Talea Ensemble evokes “…several references to ‘primordial’ instruments, including: the contra-bass clarinet imitating a Nordic lure, the French and English horns imitating primitive cow horns, non-pitched percussion instruments (such as skinned drums, metal objects, and clay pottery), various ‘non-octave’ scales and complex compound-rhythms, and a variety of microtonalities including several uses of the overtone series.”

Hagall opens with a series of frenzied pizzicato notes in the upper strings, sustained bass tones, rapid percussion and a flurry of woodwinds that create the sense of swirling instability as experienced in the center of a hail storm. The instruments all seem to be going in different directions, but the overall sound is a convincing and cohesive representation of a violent hail and snow shower. A short, sustained tutti section provides an interlude, giving sense of a settled, sustained snowfall. Soon, however, dramatic runs of individual instruments are heard simultaneously, and this, along with some high-pitched dissonance in the woodwinds, intensifies the sense that the weather is again closing in. Strong drum beats and assorted percussion begin a new section that seems to gather strength as the woodwinds and strings re-enter with sharp, stinging sounds, like the blast of ice crystals in a strong wind. More drama follows, alternating between chaos and structure, with the orchestration perfectly capturing the sense of a heavy snow storm in full fury. As the storm abates, a lovely violin solo is heard, as if commenting on the changed landscape under newly fallen snow. The playing of the Talea Ensemble is sure-footed throughout, even in the most tumultuous passages. Hagall is an impressive piece of music that puts the listener right in the heart of an arctic storm.

Track three is Thund [Thundering Waters] (2018), a work for solo piano performed by Jason Hardink. Thund consists of three movements played in succession on the same track, and offers three perspectives on the natural state of water. The first of these, “Vantaskuggsjá [Water-Mirror]” opens with soft, high piano notes interspersed with short silences. This is water at rest, but the piano line quickly accelerates into a series of flowing passages and trills that suggest a gentle stream or tumbling brook. This circles back to a calm surface but with a tension in the run of notes that suggests impending agitation.

As more notes are heard we cross into the second movement, “Hangafoss [Hanging Waterfall].” This has more activity in the higher registers that evoke a sense splashing combined with a downward falling, as ribbons of notes descend with increasing velocity. A churning gradually builds in all the piano registers and this resolves into the final movement, “Élivágar [Icy Waves, Primordial Sea].” Loud, complex sounds increase in density and the roiling texture evokes a wild, icy sea that only subsides at the finish. These movements are not clearly delineated but each consists of alternating stretches of tranquility and energy, much as water behaves in nature. The music constantly shifts and changes, never quite settling into a broad structure. The playing by Jason Hardink is fluid and controlled, moving easily between serenity and drama. Thund is a lively exploration of the intimate Norse relationship with water as gained from generations of seafaring and life in the fjords.

The final piece, Myrkriða, Ljósleiðá [Rider of Darkness, Path of Light] (2016), features soprano Kirsten Ashley Wiest, with Tara Schwab on flutes, Yuri Inoo playing percussion and guitarist Michael Kudirka. The piece proceeds in a series of 15 short tracks, each containing a fragment of the struggle between impending death and eternal light. As the liner notes explain: “With a text in Old Norse written by the composer, an ancient tongue blends two simultaneous stories: a difficult, violent, and painful journey toward the moment of death, represented by soprano and flute duo, and a recollection of the moment of death as remembered from a peaceful afterlife, where soprano and flute [are] joined by guitar and percussion.”

Myrkriða, Ljósleiðá opens with “Nátta (Night Falling).” There are mystical bells clanking, a fluttering flute and soft vocals calling out an incantation of the spirits as darkness falls. This immediately establishes a strong sense of the otherworldly that is present throughout the piece. Other tracks follow, building the story from alternating perspectives of existential dread and solemn repose. In tracks representing the Path of Light, the sounds are restrained and peacefully expressive. Where the Rider of Darkness is present, the feeling is full of tension and anxiety, with the vocals often reaching upward to something approximating a musical scream.

The power, control and range of Ms. Wiest’s voice is especially impressive given the intense emotive requirements over the arc of the story, as well as the many challenging vocal techniques contained in the score. As explained in the liner notes: “Many individual theoretical and stylistic elements are employed: non-octave harmonies, various microtonalities including both equal-tempered and just-intonation microtunings, a variety of “leitmotif” like melodic motives; extended and developed rhythmic talas, large-scale formal proportional symmetries, and extended performing techniques such as: singing into the flute…” All of this blends seamlessly into the ensemble as Myrkriða, Ljósleiðá unfolds.

In one of the later tracks, “Path of Light III”, there is a series of passages consisting of falling notes from the voice and instruments that clearly evoke the sense of one’s final living moments. The text for this is:

“My Path of Light has arrived,
Falling from the dark sky,
Like blood from the Death-blow.”

“Sunset” then follows with strong vocals, sung as if in rebellion against death. “Silence” is next, with a soft and sweetly resigned voice, now at peace. A haunting epilogue of hushed flute tones and the jangling of mystical beads quietly ends the piece. Myrkriða, Ljósleiðá [Rider of Darkness, Path of Light] is a harrowing journey from dark to light, skillfully composed and delivered with transcendent performances.

These days there is much discussion about the value of art in our culture. It should be obvious from this CD that what we know of the Old Norse peoples comes down to us most clearly through their legends and poetry. Often, when we look into the past we see a reflection of ourselves; the drama and the darkness heard in this album surely reflect some of the pessimism of our own tumultuous present.

All of the tracks on this album consistently capture the power of the Old Norse legends, masterfully realized through contemporary musical forms. Even when the complexity of the music approaches its unrelenting maximum, Holmes’ texture is transparently clear, with just the right notes always in just the right places. Rider of Darkness, Path of Light is a compelling journey into the heroic past and a telling commentary on our own present – superbly conveyed in 21st century musical language.

Rider of Darkness, Path of Light is available at Amazon Music.

by Paul Muller