Lou Rogai - Cathedral (2019)

Last year, Lou Rogai of Lewis & Clarke unveiled Implications in D major, Adagio for Chamber Strings, the first of a series of chamber music compositions Rogai wrote while also crafting a follow up to his last Lewis & Clarke album Triumvirate.

While Lewis & Clarke has often invoked the intimacy of chamber music both in its recorded output and its live shows, with Implications and now Cathedral, Rogai filters his slow building chamber folk into a classical idiom. 

A composition in three movements, Cathedral isn't your standard classical composition - from its use of field recordings, guitar, and synth, Rogai provides an interesting stamp on chamber music in a way wholly unlike his straight forward, elegaic Implications. Beginning with church , "Arrival", the first movement of Cathedral is an ambient wave slowly manuvering away from the shore - it's not until 2 and a half minutes with the entrance of the guitar that Rogai embarks on a direct presentation of a melody. Where each member of Rogai's ensemble flittered by in rapid blur or peeked from a haze before, they're all accounted for at this point, flute, double bass, clarinet, classical guitar, and strings weaving together in Rogai's characteristic slow build. 

"Acceptance", the piece's second movement is essential a marriage of Rogai as a composer and a songwriter (much like Lewis & Clarke), Rogai lends his vocals to the piece, at first vocalizing in response to the string and brass before he begins singing actual words. Much like "Arrival", "Acceptance" engages in about two minutes of musical world building - creating a hazy ambience meant to disorient and which makes the sudden clarity of Rogai's vocals all the more potent. 

"Ascent", the final movement of Cathedral, finds Rogai playing off of his field recordings of chimes as he creates a theme that seeks to replicate them. It's slow at first, gradually building and almost improvisatory as Rogai recalls the casual brush of the chimes and eventually eeks out a beautiful, furtive melody elevated to masterful grandeur by a lush string accompaniment. 

Cathedral isn't your standard classical composition. It isn't even your standard experimental classical composition. It exists as a mix of experimental composition and songcraft - similar but not entirely reminiscent of his work as Lewis & Clarke. Rogai has always crafted music that rewards the patient listener and Cathedral is no different - an exploration of theme and place where the place in question might not actually exist.

Cathedral is meant to resonate deep inside the listener like the church bells Rogai uses to signal the start of the piece and the shift between its movements. It's a beautiful and meditative piece of art that surprises and delights by virtue of its embrace and suspension of traditional form and its avant garde approach toward both the classical and singer/songwriter realms. 

Lou Rogai's Cathedral is out now on Veritidas Recordings. Both LP and CD orders come with bonus tracks of Rogai's Essere Amato film score. You can order it now. 

Listen: Diamanda La Berge Dramm - "Amazon"

photo by Juri Hiensch

My introduction to Dutch violinist Diamanda La Berge Dramm came curiously enough when I was scrolling through Instagram. As I was mindless swiping through the stories of my friends and casual acquaintances, the sounds of her siren-recalling glissandos coupled by her featherweight vocals immediately made me pause. A whole host of questions immediately rose in my brain: who is this? Who posted this? Where can I hear more? Those questions were immediately answered as the poster was none other than Peter McLaughlin, founder of the Pretty Purgatory label, announcing a new single of Dramm's from the collaborative record from Dramm and English poet SJ Fowler Beastings.

Before even looking up Dramm's biography, I could tell Dramm had a reputation that far proceeded her simply after listening to more than the 14 second sound bite McLaughlin has unknowingly gifted me with. Dramm started violin at the age of four, studied at the New England Conservatory, Royal Conservatory of Music at the Hague, and has devoted much of her professional career towards the presentation of new music, founding Splendor, an artist collective and arts space in Amsterdam that regularly puts on concerts. 

"Amazon", the second single from Dramm's forthcoming album Beastings, immediately hooked me with is juxtaposition of opposites - Dramm's vocals are light and airy against at first an effect not unlike a sliding trombone, and then a mounting cacophony of  Dramm caresses Fowler's texts holding them firmly aloft above them to set the mood but also to leap out among the fray of otherworldly sounds Dramm is somehow able to weave from her violin. Fowler's texts are elusive, weaving paths of serpentine grace as Dranm's accompaniment blooms forth, both occasionally dealing glancing blows at they intersect at just the right moments. "To be inside a background noise of a thing I don't possess" Dramm sings, accented by a rumbling low end. 

"Amazon" is an excellent piece of songcraft - multitudinous in sound and meaning, a luxurious unfurling reverie that's both delightful simple and awe-inspiringly complex. It's a testament to Dramm's compositional prowess that she's able to craft such a lush backdrop of infinitely rewarding instrumental flourishes that doesn't distract from the simplistic but elusive beauty of Fowler's text. 

Diamanda La Berge Dramm's Beastings is out November 22nd on Pretty Purgatory. It's available as a digital download, a rose colored cassette or as a CD with a chapbook featuring lyrics and expanded poens from SJ Fowler. 

Listen/Watch: Armel Dupas - "Loup Solitaire"

Photo by Aleksandr Balakin

Since meeting French pianist/composer Armel Dupas completely by chance, I have been taken by his unique approach towards music making in general, originally trained as a jazz pianist and enlisted as a common collaborator in a number of trios, quartets, film music composer, and touring musician, Dupas' first full length album Upriver presented interesting development of a style that remains distinctly indefinable. A blend of electronic and acoustic sounds that never overwhelm Dupas' gifts for delightful melodic songcraft or the seeming ease of his playing, it was a testament to Dupas' ability to conjure music of a sort of a romantic or impressionist mode without being wholly classical.

But Upriver was simply a beginning of sorts and since then Dupas has released two other albums in A Night Walk performed with Mathieu Penot and Kenny Ruby , and Broderies composed by Lisa Cat-Berro but recorded and arranged by Dupas. All the while developing a series of modern day salon concerts Dupas calls Home Piano Live that sees Dupas' touring and broadcasting these concerts through Facebook and Instagram Live. 

The success of these concerts have no doubt had their effect on Dupas' creative process and the result is Automne 2019 Languère Song(s), a solo album recorded live in the garden at his home in France in one-take, and without any traces of electronic experimentation of Upriver or A Night Walk. "Loup Solitaire", the first single of sorts from his upcoming album, is a dreamy reverie not entirely unlike the introspective nocturnes that composed A Night Walk, the key difference being Dupas opting for absolute intimacy. There's no layers of synths, no other performers, just Dupas' whose melodies seem to tumble out of him unencumbered. "Loup Solitaire" is a beguiling piece that steadily builds on itself - slowly unfurling, Dupas' timing is truly what makes the piece work: his rubato passages creating a sense of a conversation among itself. 

While initial establishing himself as one of the rare artists able to seamless blend electronic and organic sounds, Automne 2019 Laugère Song(s), offers a different version of Armel Dupas, one that thrives in live solo performance and one that few people get to see if they're not based in Europe where Dupas' tends to tour. In a way with both Home Piano Live and Laugère Song(s), is giving listeners a chance to experience Dupas' music in a brand new way, stripped back and intimate but still innovatively crafted and brimming with the confidence of a skilled player with a clear artistic vision. 

Automne 2019 Laugère Song(s) is out November 15th on Dupas' Upriver Records. Pre-order is available now. 

Listen: Christopher Tignor - "I, Autocorrelations"

Photo by Ebru Yidiz

With his previous album Along a Vanishing Plane, violinist/software engineer Christopher Tignor essentially took years and years of refined techniques of electronically developed composition and chucked it all out. That might seem a bit dramatic but the result, an album played and recorded live with absolutely no samples, loops, or click tracks grounded Tignor's composition in an unmistakable human element. The heightened risk of imperfection somehow crystallized his technique and emblazened the actual heart of his emotions and led to an impressive array of extended techniques aided by Tignor's engineering capabilities.

A Light Below, the follow up to Tignor's Along a Vanishing Plane, explores the newfound freedom in Tignor's organic rooted compositional framework. "I, Autocorrelations", the first single from the upcoming record is an explosion of sound - a truly mindboggling rush of multitudinous layers that bely the fact that they're all being delivered by a solitary man. On "I, Autocorrelations", Tignor is firmly at a stylistic peak - shifting effortlessly through repetitive bowed phrases and pizzicato all at a positively dazzling pace all the while providing enough space for the various phrases to sing and resonant firmly with the listener. Tignor weaves an effortless tapestry, of dynamic shifts in tone and blend of textures between his own playing and subtle touches added by his software.

"I, Autocorrelations" feels like a continuation of Along a Vanishing Plane but trades the langorous yearning for a more spirited presentation of the liturgical melodies without shedding any of their emotional grounding. It's a sort of musical world building that's properly thrilling, subtler than reoccuring figures or leitmotifs but no doubt rooted in the same sense of elevated storytelling. It's enough to make me properly excited for the rest of A Light Below even if Tignor's proven time and time again to supersede the most wildest of expectations.

Christopher Tignor's forthcoming album A Light Below is out October 11th on Western Vinyl. You can pre-order the album now.

Listen/Watch: Magos Herrera & Brooklyn Rider - "Niña"

Despite the fact that they have one of the most rigorous touring schedules I've seen and released their brilliant new album Spontaneous Symbols just last October, string quartet Brooklyn Rider has somehow found the time to record a brand new collaborative album with Mexican jazz singer/songwriter Magos Herrera. Although the ease of the collaboration might've been helped by the fact that both Herrera and Brooklyn Rider are based in New York. Dreamers, the forthcoming album from Herrera and Brooklyn Rider follows in a long line of Brooklyn Rider's collaborative efforts with singer/songwriters like Bela Fleck and Gabriel Kahane but unlike those previous collaborations, Dreamers sets the words of poets like Ruben Dario, Octavio Paz, and Frederico Garcia Lorca as well as other singer/songwriters and poets to arrangements by Brazilian cellist Jaques Morelenbaum, Argentinian pianists/composers Diego Schissi and Guillermo Klein, and Venezuelan born multi-instrumenalist/composer Gonzolo Grau as well as Brooklyn Rider's own resident composer/arranger Colin Jacobsen. It's an example of classical music as a political statement not unlike Ravel's "La Valse" as the idea to craft an album featuring poetry from a multitude of Central and South American writers (and mainland Spanish in the case of Lorca), featuring arrangements from composers/artists who are largely from these places at a time of particularly anti-immigrant sentiment speaks volumes down to the name of the album.

Featuring the use of cajón and a pair of palmeras or hand clappers as well as Brooklyn Rider's incredibly sharp chops, "Niña" begins an incredibly percussive piece that roots Grau's arrangement of  Mexican poet Octavio Paz's piece more in flamenco than in salsa or tango. In contrast, Herrara's singing is fluid and melismatic with Brooklyn Rider occasionally mimicking to create moments of levitating harmonic consonance as Herrera underlines parts of the texts that are rife with spectacularly vivid imagery. A love song to his Paz's daughter, Grau's arrangements are incredibly dynamic - propulsive builds, cathartic releases, and dramatic shifts all aided by Magos Herrara's impeccable vocal talents, Brooklyn Rider's precision, and the addition of percussionists. 



Dreamers, Brooklyn Rider's new collaborative album with Magos Herrera, is out September 21st on Sony Music Mexico. You can pre-order/pre-save the album here.

Brooklyn Rider - Spontaneous Symbols (2017)

New York string quartet Brooklyn Rider have made a career establishing the crucial link between essential classical music and the now more nebulous, far reaching era of modern composition. It's a choice that's taken them on a rather circuitous journey. From introducing the uninitiated to Armenian composer Komitas Vartaped or their cover of Mexican rockers Cafe Tacvba's "La Muerte Chiquita" on their first record Passport, to the global premiere of collaborations with Iranian composer/Kamancheh play Kayhan Kalhor and New York based Russian composer Ljova, Brooklyn Rider have taken great care not only to bridge the musical gap between traditional classical music and contemporary but also to bridge cultural gaps (unsurprising considering Brooklyn Rider are also members of the Yo-Yo Ma founded Silkroad Ensemble).

While most of their albums paired a known classical work with newer works they felt meshed well or were inspired, the foursome broke new ground with The Brooklyn Rider Almanac: a collection of collaborations from all living composers/artists like folk singer Aoife O'Donovan and jazz pianist Vijay Iyer. Since then the group has gone on to have a number of releases like the Gabriel Kahane collaboration The Fiction Issue but The Brooklyn Rider Almanac signaled a turning point in the quartet's catalog where elevating and commissioning new works took primary focus over their attempts to revitalize old classics. The spirit remained but by focusing almost exclusively on works from composers they could actually work with, the quartet highlights all the exciting things that are happening in current day classical scene. Spontaneous Symbols is a return of sorts to their traditional setup (even as they welcome new cellist Michael Nicolas). Unlike The Fiction Issue or their collaboration with soprano Anna Sofia von Otter So Many Things, Spontaneous Symbols repositions many of those extended collaborations back to the simpler composer/performer dynamic.

"ArpRec1", a composition by Tyondai Braxton, is a notated version of piece Braxton normally performs with the use of a midi controller and built using Ableton and MaxMSP. Brooklyn Rider are no strangers to work with electronics, as evidenced by "Together Into This Unknowable Night" from their album Seven Steps, a composition by violinist/software engineer Christopher Tignor. "ArpRec1" is a piece that relies on the intuition of the performers. Reminiscent of the works of Terry Riley, "ArpRec1" Braxton's use of generative technique allows for a feeling of spontaneity. And yet, much like Riley's use of music modules gives each performance an improvisitory quality, to the casual listener the gradual build and precision of rhythmic fixtures seem wholly planned. It's not until the end of the first part where you hear a sort of unraveling that it occurs there could anything happening other than the written music. Considering this is the notated version of Braxton's musical experiments, it's not totally out of the norm that he would include this moment of chaos as part of the music. It actually forms a bridge between the two parts the piece is split into on the album: from the surefooted, unfurling of part 1 into the frenzied pacing of part 2, the minor elongating, conflicting rhythms sets up an unexpected second act.

"BTT", Brooklyn Rider's own addition to the album by violinist/composer Colin Jacobsen, sees the quartet essentially finding parallels between their classical training and the modern classical movement. Inspired equally by the 70's/80's downtown New York scene as well as by John Cage, Jacobsen realized that Cage and Bach, though diametric opposites are connected through a tendency towards rule-making. Bach's being strict and conservative while Cage's were meant more to focus his chaos. The result is a multi-layered piece that's a pendulum swing between order and chaos, minimalism and maximalism. Theoretically, Jacobsen is operating on a level of deep complex: having two motifs: a Bach and Cage one, interweaving all throughout while also trying to pay homage to Phillip Glass and Steve Reich. It's a piece that's pretty much synonymous with Brooklyn Rider's mission statement as it seeks to illustrate the interconnectedness of music using the string quartet as that lens.
    
Brooklyn Rider's albums have contained at least one multi-movement work and Evan Ziporyn's Qi is Spontaneous Symbols offering. Inspired by the Chinese concept of life-force, Ziporyn's three movement work is breath-taking. First movement "Lucid Flight" is adequately named as it seeks to inspire a feeling of weightlessness in the listener, the harmonics like soft wisps of air streaming past your face. But Ziporyn avoids expectations of what flying is supposed to sound like - it's not all polished breathy melodies and bright timbres, rather there's a dissonance that flutters in and out as if the awareness of the unnaturalness of human flight seeks to ground it at any time. That "awareness" theme is passed around from instrument to instrument even as those airy harmonics try to keep everything afloat.

"Garden", the second movement of Qi begins slowly, a comedown from the flighty first movement but when it truly touches down, it offers up one of Spontaneous Symbols most beautiful moments. It's meditative while not lethargic, it's also built with kaleidoscopic complexity, as a shifting array of vibrant coloring and stirring melodic moments catapult it forward from section to section. Where "Lucid Flight" glides from one moment to the next, "Garden" arrives to each with deep centering breaths. And its final section gives the sense of relieving sighs before letting everything peter out to contemplative silence.

And where "Garden" is an inward moment, "Transport" is reactionary. Inspired by intense moments that led to epiphanic revelations, "Transport" is expectedly busy. But even then Ziporyn subverts that notion, it isn't a fast paced sprint, it's a patient plod toward a moment of true weightlessness "Lucid Flight" never actually achieves. Perhaps because of the expectation and cerebral nature of it then but in "Transport" it whisks you up and away.

Where Ziporyn's piece is focused on the inner life, Paula Matthusen's "on the attraction of felicitous amplitude" is a piece shaped by a strong sense of place. Written during Matthusen's fellowship at the American Academy at Rome, it's a piece that draws from Matthusen's love of architecture and a cistern underneath the Villa Aurelia in particular. Matthusen utilizes field recordings she took of the cistern and the piece is an exploration of how sounds travel in the space paired with notated music performed by Brooklyn Rider. The quartet capture both the cavernous quality as the space while also replicating the sound of trickling water with col legno and slides. In addition to trying to replicate the sounds of the space but also invoking how sound travels in it, the field recordings are also transduced through the actual instruments themselves.

Kyle Sanna's "Sequence for Minor White" closes out the album and is a particular solid choice for that duty. Inspired both by the photography and the teachings of photographer Minor White, Sanna builds a set of sequences sans movement. One doesn't have to be at all familiar with Minor White or his teachings to be effected by Sanna's work as the work is multitudinous and sans context but like White's sequence philosophy, Sanna seeks to construct a sense of interconnectedness. White's attempts to evoke a stronger feeling through the grouping of specific photographs is an idea not at all foreign to composition where often you string various personal ideas or techniques together in the hopes that the observer can put the puzzle together (except if you have the benefit of program notes) but the idea to essentially score selected still photographs and White's philosophy to try and provide an adequate measure of the man is incredibly ambitious. But if the piece inspires you to acquaintance yourself with either the photography, creative thoughts, or poetry of Minor White, Kyle Sanna is sure to consider the work successful.   

For a group of musicians that pushes themselves to new creative endeavors over and over, it seems unfair to call Spontaneous Symbols their best work. It is an assuredly different work than they've released before both in form and content but it seems like their most vital. Brooklyn Rider essentially wrote themselves a new playbook on The Brooklyn Rider Almanac and those lessons have been internalized and improved upon. Spontaneous Symbols is not the easiest album to listen to but it is an incredibly interesting one full of fruitful collaborations and compositions. Brooklyn Rider are hardly the kind of that frequently need to highlight their strengths as a string quartet but Spontaneous Symbols contains many pieces that do just that. Brooklyn Rider are not only game for just about anything but have an exception knack for curation that in turn spotlights their incredible versatility. Spontaneous Symbols that requires patience but rewards it with both incendiary moments and soothing ones.



Brooklyn Rider's new album Spontaneous Symbols is out October 20th on violinist/Brooklyn Rider founding member Johnny Gandelsman's In A Circle Records. You can pre-order the album here.

Listen: Armel Dupas - "A Night Walk"

photo by Fiona Grimmeison

When a chance meeting brought me in contact with French pianist/composer Armel Dupas, my reward was the introduction to his wonderful solo debut Upriver. While he's more or less been touring behind that record since its 2015 release, he most recently announced its follow up A Night Walk. The record finds him assembling his touring band mates, multi-instrumentalists Mathieu Penot and Kenny Ruby, into a trio for the inaugural release of Dupas' new label imprint Upriver Records.

Despite his training as a jazz pianist, the most curious thing about Dupas' music both on Upriver and on the "A Night Walk", the eponymous first single from the upcoming record, is the fluidity of genre. Dupas' touch remains as subtle as ever and he's found collaborators that manage to engage with that same gentle touch when it would be easy to blow it up for a bigger sound. Penot who plays drums on the record and Ruby who serves on bass, help Dupas' to illustrate his veritable nocturne. Whether through the percussion or the swirl of synths (which Penot and Ruby are both skilled players of), there's a pervasive sense of introspective quiet. It's a walk to clear one's head. On "A Night Walk" Dupas' continues to blur the lines between organic and electronic sounds with an ease that is commendable. The piece, luckily, does not stay at the same dynamic. Though never losing either the effortless ease or sense of calm, the trio to push towards a sensible climax that sees the band becoming more involved with each other. Dupas also makes impeccable use of a more or less sudden switch up as everything comes to a seemingly finite conclusion a little more than halfway through. A steady synth hum is the only indicator that the piece isn't complete and when the band return - they're operating at peak energy and in a blissful key change. It's a piece that could easily go on for ages like the New Age drone in a spa but that use of the key change in all of it's glorious, triumphant nature signals a complete and deeply felt ending. It's a hell of an introduction to the Dupas' trio and curiously enough the track that Dupas elected to end the album with so everything leading up to this point is very much up in the air. Lucky for us, there's not too long of a wait before the rest of A Night Walk is available.   



A Night Walk, the first record from Armel Dupas' Upriver Records featuring Mathieu Penot and Kenny Ruby is out October 20th.

Pitstop: Armel Dupas

My introduction to the music of French pianist/composer Armel Dupas was due to the strange sense of serendipity that's become pretty commonplace in some of my most unexpected and most treasured music discoveries. A matter of happenstance found us sat next to each other at the record release show for Christopher Tignor's latest album Along A Vanishing Plane. At the bar with time to kill, Dupas struck up a conversation that went from stories of how we came to be at this particular concert to our musical interests and endeavors and an easy rapport ensured that we checked in after each set to discuss what we had just witnessed. Earlier in the evening Dupas shared that he was a musician and his interest in the pedal setups and gear of opener Patrick Higgins and of Christopher Tignor had me resolved to check out his music before he even offered information on where to find it.

What struck me immediately about Dupas' music, especially that of his most recent effort Upriver, was an incredible subtlety; a lightness of touch and a refreshingly sense of minimalism. Dupas' melodies are beautiful and free flowing but carry an ephemeral air. His use of electronics is sparse but effective often used for color than an actual composititional focus until its climatic use in "Sometimes I Need Some Time" and the interlude "Epilogue". Though Dupas has trained in jazz, his music transcends the genre while still applying skills and techniques he gained from it. Dupas has cited Nils Frahm as an influence but at times on Upriver, he more recalls Japanese pianist/composer Mashashi Hamauzu and his impressionistic lilt. Like Hamauzu, Dupas makes incredible use of space and silence as his melodies expand out like questions confidently asked and patiently awaiting their answer. The album effortlessly flows from one piece to another but not without each making a noteable impression. From sprightly opener "Les Plaines De Mazerolles" to the only vocal track "Aujord'hui il a Plu" to meditative closer "Upriver" no one song is the same but the album grows in such a way that none seem out of place and its end is wonderfully cathartic.

Armel Dupas is a gifted pianist, yes. But Upriver demonstrates a knack for arranging a rewarding musical voyage that's thrilling both in actual practice and its potential. Dupas evades easy definition while offering a collection of pieces that a brilliantly original. Upriver is a pristinely plotted soundtrack of nocturne's that's enjoyable and exciting in its presentation: effortless in delivery and engaging in its composition.





Armel's debut solo album Upriver is out now on Jazz Village.

Listen/Watch: Christopher Tignor - "Shapeshifting"

While the classical music realm and the ever growing world of technology have more often than not been at odds with each other, there are a growing number of artists who have recognized the creative possibilities that embracing technology affords them. Violinist/composer/software engineer Christopher Tignor is one of those artists. From his earliest recording projects Slow Six and Wires Under Tension, Tignor has made software a valuable part of both his composition and his performance process; the mathematical precision of classical music theory elevated by the science of Tignor's tech. That intersection is where Tignor's art lives. "Shapeshifting", the first taste of Tignor's upcoming double LP/video album Along a Vanishing Plane, both continues in that tradition and breaks away from it. Along a Vanishing Plane was recorded curiously enough without any of the overdubs or loops that you would attribute to a musician like Christopher Tignor. Instead Tignor relies on his trusty violin and the software for his latest round of compositions.

The first thing you hear in "Shapeshifting" isn't the violin, however, but a tuning fork and triangle. The strike of metal against metal, chiming out in the space of Hudson NY's Second Ward sets off a chain reaction when Tignor brings the tuning fork against the bridge of his violin to resonate. Tignor's custom built software registers the tuning fork resonating against the bridge through the violin pickup and spits out the piece's first melodies. If that wasn't enough, Tignor controls the flow of the melody through pedals and whether the tuning fork sets of the melody or his actual playing does via pizzicato. It all sounds rather academic in theory but Tignor never lets the piece get bogged down with the science. The software is programmed but largely Tignor is behind the wheel, directing where melody climbs or descents based on his feeling in the present moment. The presence of a bass drum and cymbal, essentially weave its way to fabric of the piece and keep it from getting too atmosphere. The constant percussion ensures everything moves forward and quickly, not letting the innovation rest on its own laurels.

In "Shapeshifting", Tignor takes use of the tuning fork, which might appear gimmicky, and elevates it to a timbre focal point and instigator. Tignor has never been one for gimmicks so his commitment to the tuning fork both as a means of percussion and to set off the software erases all doubt. "Shapeshifting", much like it's name implies, is about the journey. Its subtle crest into a prevalent percussion galvanized groove before allow itself to slowly cyclically unravel towards nothingness. It's a piece far more about composition and method than it is virtuosity and it's all the better for it, captivating with its ephemeral melodies that still manage to make a fascinating lasting impression..





Along a Vanishing Plane, Christopher Tignor's new visual album, will be out September 16th on Western Vinyl.

Listen: Nils Frahm - "Wall"

With all the International holidays popping up out of the blue I was surprised to find that something as simple as Piano Day did not already exist. In fact, its only equivalent is a day-long festival that happens every year on the longest day of the year in Make Music NY. And yet, German contemporary pianist Nils Frahm took it upon himself to rectify that through the declaration that from heretofore the 88th day of this year and every year thereafter shall be known as Piano Day. That declaration has been generally well received with the aid of Frahm's label Erased Tapes and worldwide celebrations popping up in London at Rough Trade East, New York City at Rough Trade West, and in Los Angeles at Touch Vinyl.

It seems that Frahm's edict wasn't merely a spur of the minute decision however. Piano Day also is the day Frahm decided to release a surprise album - Solo for free. The album continues in a long line of Frahm's album that suspend the notion of genre and feature Frahm's immersive solo piano music although Solo does so with a bit of a twist. The album was recorded on a prototype of a model of piano which Frahm hopes to fund through the sale of the physical versions of the new record and donations. "Wall", recorded on the KlavinsM370 is the introduction and a sneak peek at the super piano Frahm hopes to fund in piano builder David Klavins' KlavinsM450. The hope is to unveil the creation at festival to celebrate Piano Day in Berlin in 2017.

If you've heard any of Frahm's music before - especially the adventurous take on a live album Spaces, it's hard to believe the man could make his music any more engaging and yet "Wall" with the aid of the KlavinsM370 is like hearing Frahm in surround sound. Beginning with repetitive staccato figures - its starling immense, cavernous, a deluge of sound that's both space-conscious and an absolute inundation. Frahm is no stranger to the magic found in the use of space and yet still, "Wall" takes it to a logical progression - in the pure power of the gargantuan size of the 3.7 meter height of the KlavinsM370. But Frahm's touch is delicate, the new piano has the effortless ability to swallow up everything that Frahm appropriately balances. "Wall" is an all-consuming surge but one that Frahm navigates with his characteristic mastery of space for a piece that balances epic grandeur with intimate charm.



Nils Frahm's new album Solo is available for download now. To read more about Piano Day, the Klavins M370, KlavinsM450, and/or to support its creation go here.

Pitstop: Agnes Obel

One of the things I did in my early days of music blogging was sign up for a bunch of mailing lists for a bunch of New York City venues. Sure, some venues already add you on a mailing list if you buy tickets online to go to them (looking at you Bowery Presents) but I welcomed what some what see as annoying intrusion. Or I did at the time. The idea behind it being that I would totally use it to keep up on shows happening I might otherwise miss (I haven't) or find artists I might not have seen (I didn't). While I'm too lazy to unsubscribe from the majority of these mailing lists I did finally find an artist exclusively through an email sent promoting hers and other shows at Le Poisson Rouge. Enter Berlin based Danish songstress Agnes Obel.



While I couldn't make it to her show I found that the name had managed to stick with me. Something about the combination of its symmetry as well as the press photo used - Obel in profile silhouetted in red (the album art for her latest album Aventine) seemed to stir something in my very core. You want to listen to this. Obel's music manages to be at once totally straight forward and yet totally hard to classify. A classically trained pianist, Obel's music seems to reflect this (especially in her instrumental turns) while there's a definite push for a pop-like accessibility. As good as they are, Obel has more to offer than lyrical piano-driven ballads. While piano and Obel's vocals always maintain the main focus and in impresively equal measure, Obel allows a bit of orchestral flourishes on the new album and songs like "Dorian" and "Aventine" manage to show her pivoting from the occasionally folk-inspired turns of her debut album Philharmonics to her more seriously plotted nascent art-pop of Aventine while still retaining at last the hint of pop momentum.



And yet, on Aventine Obel's music retains a pervasive introspection - melancholic at times, merely contemplative at others. It's hard to label Obel a pop artist when the music is so definitively solemn. In that regards Obel has more in line with artists like Efterklang and Sigur Rós - much more content to just make the music they want to with little thought for what to actually call it. Not only does Obel strengthen her songwriting chops but she also refines her creative process in a way that's totally genre-blurring.



The most exciting thing about Agnes Obel is that she's knows either consciously or instinctively that in order to avoid stagnation there needs to be more happening than merely being beautiful or catchy and in her own quest for interesting musical routes provides music that's engaging and rewarding to listen to while also offering these things. Obel is the kind of artist that you can count on to evolve from album to album and while her current output is endearing an solid, I'm intrigued at the possibilities.

Listen: Christopher Tignor - "Thunder Lay Down In The Heart"

As I looked at the lineup for an upcoming show at Cameo Gallery featuring Friend Roulette collaborator Paul Damian Hogan the Third this Friday night another name curiously caught my eye: Christopher Tignor. I recognized the name - not only that I remembered exactly from: Tignor's "Together Into This Unknowable Night" was one of the two original works on Brooklyn Rider's Seven Steps. Though I didn't realize it at the time, the Brooklyn based violinist/software engineer follows the path of most modern composers through forming his own ensembles to perform his works. That's essentially how Thunder Lay Down In The Heart, Tignor's second "solo" album, came to be.

While much of the album itself contains reinterpretations, reworks, and reconfigurations of  a piece Tignor wrote for string orchestra, electronics, and drums inspired by poet John Ashberry's "A Boy", at the album's core lays the work from which the album draws its title and the rest of the album acts as a reaction to: "Thunder Lay Down In The Heart", split into three parts for what seems like convenience considering it's attacca cohesiveness.

Tignor's approach is slow and steady - stealthily assembling the necessary themes and harmonic devices that are sure elicit a strong reaction; Tignor's work shows a considerable amount of restraint. He introduces the electronic element of his work first and foremost as a sort of steady pulsation while the strings' fluid arcs act in counterpoint to build much of the tension. And yet, Tignor's form of tension release comes through unexpected changes - after nearly five minutes of slow burning melodic thaw, the ensemble overtakes the electronic pulse and comes sharply into focus.

Christopher Tignor's "Thunder Lay Down In The Heart" is a work borne of patience. Not only his own but requiring a bit on the listener's part to make it all worthwhile. Instead of throwing an endless assortment of ideas at you to sink into, Tignor shuffles a handful in from the periphery. Considering Tignor's minimalistic tendencies, the real surprise is how swiftly the man can shift themes. The build ups are organic and develop through sensible pacing but Tignor still finds a way to make his climactic surges unpredictable. Tignor's grandiose music moments arrive in a heady rush, he obscures the gears from view while clearly working off of them to make those moments the most satisfying in a way that's almost subliminal.  





Christopher Tignor's Thunder Lay Down In The Heart is available now via Western Vinyl. You can catch Tignor at Cameo Gallery with Secret Cities on 2/13, St. Vitus with This Will Destroy You, or at Littlefield 3/13 with Bing & Ruth

Brooklyn Rider - The Brooklyn Rider Almanac (2014)

In my college years, deep in the throes of my Russian composer Alexander Borodin obsession, I stumbled upon Les Vendredis. Les Vendredis, French for Fridays, began as an informal gathering at the mansion of successful lumber merchant turned music publisher Mitrofan Belyayev of musicians to play chamber works. Later attracting many of Belyayev's in form of Borodin, Glazunov, Rimsky-Korsakov, and more - the visiting composers began  creating works specifically to play at the gatherings (many of which were gathered into collections named after the weekly gathering). During much of my college career I wondered why such a thing didn't exist nowadays. Though their inspiration comes from a different source - New York based indie classical quartet Brooklyn Rider ultimately resurrected this idea at least in spirit with their latest project/album The Brooklyn Rider Almanac.

Inspired by the European artistic collective La Blaue Reiter (The Blue Rider) from which the quartet drew their name, The Brooklyn Rider Almanac is a multi-disciplinary project that essentially explores the nature of inspiration and influence. Tapping gifted artists/musicians not necessarily known for their classical output like singer/songwriter Aoife O'Donovan ("Show Me") or Deerhoof's Greg Saunier ("Quartet, Parts One and Two"), the commissioned works draw from equally inspiring sources - jazz guitarist Bill Friskell looks to John Steinbeck, O'Donovan to William Faulkner.

Brooklyn Rider start the almanac (the recorded first installment of their project) off with a bang - "Necessary Henry!", composed by Albanian cellist Rubin Kodheli and inspired by multi-instrumentalist and avant-jazz composer Henry Threadgill, is perhaps the best introduction to the project if not Brooklyn Rider in general. A driving fortissimo combustion - it's a work of charming ebbs and flows that effortlessly encapsulates Brooklyn Rider's genre fluidity. It's a piece of understated cool that tests the instrumental prowess and limits of the quartet's members - it's a mounting wave of kinetic energy that requires rapidfire changes not only between musical ideas but extended techniques. Brooklyn Rider, as always, of course tackle the challenge head on. Despite the swift perpetuum mobile feel of the piece, Kodheli and by extension Brooklyn Rider are able to keep the piece from feeling overstuffed with ideas - the saving grace being the sudden lulls in intensity with the subtler, more nuanced jazz-inflected passages.


Though Brooklyn Rider have worked outside of the confines of the their quartet setup before (their earlier collaboration with Iranian composer/kamancheh player Kayhan Kalhor springs immediate to mind), it no doubt still comes as a bit of a shock when Shara Worden of My Brightest Diamond's voice enters on the piece "Exit" composed by Brooklyn Rider's own Colin Jacobsen. Drawing text from Kandinsky's Klänge and taken from the Chalk and Soot song cycle which features choreography John Heginbotham but inspired by David Byrne, "Exit" is another excellent indicator of what Brooklyn Rider set out to do with their project. The piece actually resembles something more in line with art song/folk song than anything from the Talking Heads frontman himself and therein lies its appeal. Blending a wide variety of forms (and coming from Kandinsky's own rejection of form), the piece remains singularly unique. What makes the piece the most radical of Brooklyn Rider's output is purely based on the departure of form - in this case that of the traditional quartet. Even with the addition of Worden, the piece still defies easy classification - making ample use of body percussion in the form of handclaps and footstomps.

Perhaps more than ever, Brooklyn Rider are proving not only exceeding difficult to pigeonhole but actively rebelling against such attempts. While The Brooklyn Rider Almanac is a testament to the nature of homage and influence, it also does its best to and succeeds in transcending those very things. Each contributor on the almanac brings their A game and Brooklyn Rider theirs, the union pushing each to creative heights thought previously unreachable. Brooklyn Rider have endured ten years based not only on the merits of their artistic ability but their continued efforts to keep the ensemble form relevant. Moments like the rhythmic dexterity of Vijay Iyer's "Dig the Say" or Ethan Iverson's "Morris Dance" choir-vocal ending and it becomes quite apparent what separates and ultimately unites Brooklyn Rider with the multitude of chamber groups embracing and marrying classical and contemporary influences - a thrilling enthusiasm, a creative fearlessness that keeps Brooklyn Rider not only true to their artistic statement but excitedly scaling to new creative peaks. The Brooklyn Rider Almanac is a snapshot of this wonderful moment in nothing else and no doubt a placeholder for Brooklyn Rider's next unpredictable endeavor in possibly the best way.



The Brooklyn Rider Almanac is out September 30th on Mercury Classics. If the above sampler piques your interest, the whole album is available to stream until its release date via NPR's First Listen.

Listen: yMusic - "Music in Circles (Excerpt)"

While New York City based chamber group yMusic certainly earned their stripes with the release of their debut album Beautiful Mechanical back in 2011, the excitement I felt upon the announcement of their follow up Balance Problems was undoubtably leveled up when it was revealed that had Son Lux signed on to produce it. While yMusic certainly toed the line of indie classical and something wholly other on their debut, Ryan Lott's involvement behind the scenes seemed to portend an additional desire for the sextet to continue to sidestep genre labels. 

While on Beautiful Mechanical, yMusic teamed up with several notable indie artists/composers, Balance Problems goes a more traditional route of having yMusic align less with band fronters/artists that happen to be competent composers and more with those notable for doing just that. That's not to say a couple crossovers aren't present a la Sufjan Stevens. Through taking to commonplace definition, yMusic's core concept is illuminated further - by tackling the pre-established norms in classical music, yMusic set out to ultimately transcend them.

The first single from the new record, "Music in Circles" is an excerpt from a two part piece written by Andrew Norman. The most notable part of Music in Circles" or rather, the excerpt yMusic offer as a taster - is just how long it takes for clear melody to formulate. Beginning with far more percussive leaning strings paired fragmented glancing blows in the winds, Norman offers up merely hints at melody that builds - the spiccato strokes and ricochet go from merely functioning as a percussive effect to forming a part of harmonic vertebra. "Music in Circles" is built from the ground up not from the layering of melody and harmony but from the incorporation of each instruments' own advanced techniques. The most pleasant surprise is how easily everything coagulates into beautiful harmonic moments. "Music in Circles" resembles at its most simple a modal work where each instruments' part ingeniously syncs up. However Norman and yMusic by extension make you work for those moments - much of the piece spends its time gently layering towards the sync only to either snatch it away at moment you expect everything to coalesce or to deconstruct it immediately when melodic fluidity becomes the norm.

"Music in Circles" is a challenging, subversive piece that breaks down the very notion of expectations while offering wonderful moments of beautiful, almost happenstance like harmony that gives yMusic ability to really flex their technical chops. Norman draws attention to the nature of melody, which through his suspension of it, makes the moments when it appears all that more arresting, and the momentous climbs toward its establishment perhaps more intriguing and important.



yMusic's second full length Balance Problems is out September 30th on New Amsterdam Records.

San Fermin - San Fermin (2013)

I encountered Brooklyn based San Fermin due to a suggestion of them as chamber pop band of note. While the suggestion was wrong in that there's really far too much going on under the surface of San Fermin for them to really qualify as chamber pop, I suppose it's a fitting moniker for the brainchild of composer Ellis Ludwig-Leone. In what is rapidly becoming a trend, Ludwig-Leone emigrated to Canada in a fit of post-grad "What now?" shock where he started working on what would become San Fermin. San Fermin and the self-titled album are rare in that the narrative voice isn't in the spotlight. Ludwig-Leone has surrounded himself with a group of consummate musicians and trusted them to interpret his vision - a page right out of the classical music handbook. But San Fermin isn't a contemporary classical music ensemble by any means. Ludwig-Leone's chosen voice (at least on parts of the debut record) is that of modern indie pop. 

A concept album, San Fermin tells the story of two protagonists experiencing a crisis not unlike the composer/songwriter's own. "Renaissance!" starts the album with a sense of drama and intrigue and epic grandeur and establishes the album's ambitiousness right off the bat. The album balances the two characters by giving them dramatically different sounds - the male narrated by the Allen Tate's booming baritone and voiced by pervasive melancholic folk while the lady's role is overtaken by the female duo at the forefront of fellow Brooklyn band Lucius and features moments of lush, resplendent pop mastery. After establishing the two separately in "Renaissance!" and "Crueler Kind", the album shifts between the two in track-by-track call and response - a dialogue extended over the course of a little less than an hour.

While adopting this kind of reactionary songwriting format, Ludwig-Leone also makes extensive use of musical interludes of his compositions which while very good technically and aurally, don't really do much in service of his established narrative choice. In a way, they're the composer's attempt to make his own voice heard after relegating those duties to others. 

San Fermin is an ambitious album, of that there is no question. It's also a very good album - but it's not an album free from weaknesses. San Fermin's weakness lies in its ability to more seemlessly integrate its various influences. It's a case of many plates spinning in the air that actually distract from a rather interesting concept and even more interesting bit of absolutely gorgeous musical moments. It's clear and obvious strengths are in those moments Holly Laessig and Jess Wolfe make their presences known and are given the focus ("Crueler Kind", "Sonsick" "The Count", "Oh, Darling"). Non-coincidentally these are moments when the album is at it's poppiest, it's most accessible; it's most fluid and forward moving. Allen Tate's voice is an anchor - firmly grounding everything but so rarely given to the vibrant flights of fancy of Laessig and Wolfe. The exception to this being when their union in "Bar" and triumphant sun-speckled "Daedalus (What We Have)". 

There's moments on the album that feel truly earned due to the rotating narration and staggered pacing - "Oh, Darling" is probably the true moment where the female protagonist doesn't shine like a beacon of light - draped in dazzling, catchy pop melodies and boundless confidence. "Oh, darling, I've been so miserable/I can't describe" and the male rouses from his wallowing and offers comfort, countering "When you're off alone and your heart is gone to sea, leave your lonely here with me". For all the bells and whistles afforded to San Fermin from it's orchestral accompaniment and reliance on moments of lush majesty - the most moving moment is its most lyrically focused; it's most simple and its most bare. 

While "Daedalus (What We Have)" provides the male's bookend moment of transformation - the actual moment not occurring lyrically but compositionally. The storm clouds disperse and Allen Tate's vocals glisten in bright moments of musical catharsis. It's a testament to Ludwig-Leone's skills that while having a considerable amount of plot going on that the defining factor in character growth lies in the music. 

What keeps San Fermin from being a truly, truly great record in terms of cohesion and it being the type of album you want to listen to in full over and over again lies in a perceived inability to unite Ludwig-Leone the talented composer and Ludwig-Leone the incredibly gifted pop songsmith. When the lines between these two sides of the creative coin marry, the results are sure to be astounding. San Fermin seems a bit disjointed, with parts that either seem a bit superfluous or dragging. Regardless, San Fermin is an excellent and intriguing debut with its fair share of album highlights. It's a richly engaging listen with a slew of rewards that reveal themselves on each subsequent listen if you're diligent enough to stick around. 

Listen: Nils Frahm - "Says"

German pianist/producer Nils Frahm has made a career out of instrumental music of the genre-defying and intimate sort. Of that there is no question. But "Says", our first peek at Frahm's latest full length Spaces, seeks to take the introspective quality of Frahm's compositions and expand them ever outward - instead of quietly drawing in the listener, in a rare feat (for Frahm especially), it seeks to drag you into Frahm's headspace through a borderline aggressive act of percussive force.

On "Says", Frahm's use of minimalism results in perhaps the longest track in his entire catalog. A sprawling 8 minutes, it relies instead of on the artificial sound of a synth instead of Frahm's more natural piano to set its mood and for tonal coloring. His piano isn't gone, in fact it's still very much present but "Says" pairs the two very different textures into an ambient labyrinth of rising intensity.

The song's elasticity grants a newfound intimacy different than can be glimpses Frahm's shorter musical sketches. Because of the improvisatory nature of Frahm's performances, captured for Spaces, you're given a completely different perspective on Frahm's mental machinations. Listening to the track becomes like following a thought process, relying solely on communication of the nonverbal variety.

It's a stunning treat handled with excellent care from a talented well-rounded artist.



Nils Frahm's Spaces is out November 19th on Erased Tapes America.

Watch: Brooklyn Rider - "A Walking Fire"

Your eyes aren't deceiving you. This is in fact a new track from New York based string quartet Brooklyn Rider. Right off the release of last year's Seven Steps, they're offering another sampling of their own brilliant take on tunes both of their own creation and from some of their friends/collaborators.

And that's what you get here. The title track of their upcoming album A Walking Fire, due out April 30th on Mercury Classics, is another piece by Brooklyn Rider's Colin Jacobsen. From his Three Miniatures for String Quartet, the first movement mixes the clear, simple melodies of Komitas Vartapet (whose Armenian Folk Songs were featured on 2008's Passport) along with a far more virtuosic displays in the short gypsy-recalling rhapsody. Not at all surprising considering draws from the influence of Iranian composer/kemancheh player Kayhan Kalhor.

Short but oh so very sweet, it's a rather attention-grabbing though not offensively showy piece. It's enough not only to get you properly excited for the other two movements of Jacobsen's Miniatures but also A Walking Fire in general. Luckily its release date is so closely on the horizon. Until then just keep hitting replay on this live video of Brooklyn Rider playing "A Walking Fire".

       

ETHEL - Heavy (2012)

You’re eyes are not deceiving you – NYC based string quartet /band ETHEL have indeed released a new album. Heavy, their first major release since 2006’s Light (apart from a couple composer-centric albums), is a tribute to New York City and also the last album to feature recently departed member Mary Rowell.

ETHEL bridges the gap between releases with Don Byron’s “Four Thoughts on Marvin Gaye” (of which #3 was on Light). Inspired less by the actual music of Marvin Gaye and more on the man’s tumultuous life, ETHEL lead right out of the gate with a fearless white knuckled tutti before embarking on a stunning display of techniques – harmonics, glissandos, col legno, if you can name it, it most likely makes an appearance of #1 if not one of the subsequent movements. And yet what’s truly impressive is while having this multitude of what could easily turn into blatant displays of instrumental prowess – ETHEL keep it about the music. And though inspired by Marvin Gaye, it’s hard not to see how Byron’s work fits into ETHEL homage to the city – soulful, endlessly busy but not oppressively so – any movement could be the soundtrack to the city at night (with #3 emphasizing the hint of danger that lurks around ).

Julia Wolfe’s “Early That Summer” is a mammoth of a piece that can best be described as series of stacked moments continuously attempting to up the ante. There’s no rest, no break, instead it’s eleven straight minutes of nail-biting end-of-your-seat pyrotechnics. Each moment from its’ gun-shot like intro goes bigger than you thought possible with nary a thought given to the threat of everything toppling over.  When the piece comes to a stop with a series of thick, clustered chords, you can hardly believe it.

Raz Menisai’s “La Citadelle” is fair and above the most groove-centric piece on the album, taking the place of Light’s “Chai” building upon a series of earth-trembling deep ostinatos as the piece plods on minimalistically altering its grooves with a Middle Eastern air. There’s slides and glissandos reminiscent of sirens that manage to ground the fantastical sounding piece into a sort of briefly accepted reality before launching once again on its rhythmic melismatic voyage of grooves.

ETHEL’s decision to close out the album with frequent collaborator Marcelo Zarvos’ “Rounds” gives the album a feeling of splendid closure – the piece is vibrantly melodic with skyward reaching moments. Heavy’s theme of busy-ness returns here but without any of the pseudo-claustrophobic feel, instead offering an added dynamic to Zarvos’ colorful sprawl.  If Byron’s “Four Thoughts on Marvin Gaye” portrayed a city at night, Zarvos’ “Rounds” provides its parallel as a work of boundless freedom with smile-inducing brightness; a work of endearing calm despite its variety of rapidly moving parts.  

Heavy is an album that certainly lives up to its name. Full of intense moments of clamor and balls-to-the-wall frenetic energy, ETHEL also balances it with bold musical statements, truly unexpected twists and turns, and a pristine clarity in ideas. Each piece manages to establish itself not only as an album highlight but as a distinctive part of ETHEL musical tapestry – their homage takes many forms, mostly in an almost breakneck bustle with a moment of relief offered almost exclusively in the form of short interlude-esque “Wed” by David Lang. But at no point is the pacing overwhelming highlighting one of most notable aspects of the city the foursome so clearly love: its relentless hustle. Heavy is an album that achieves absolute balance with just enough going on to keep you on your toes while simultaneously keeping your total and undivided attention.  Proving that with ETHEL, the wait is almost definitely worth it. 

You can listen to Heavy on Spotify or stream it on their website here.

Brooklyn Rider - Seven Steps (2012)

It's rare that I feature classical music here but I will always make an exception for genre-straddling string quartet Brooklyn Rider. Brooklyn Rider is as comfortable playing your standard string quartet fare as they are some of the more out there stuff - like an album with Iranian composer and kamancheh player Kayhan Kalhor. Considering Brooklyn Rider's innovative approach to the string quartet, it only made sense that for their latest album Seven Steps, they would tackle one of classical music's foremost innovators - Ludwig van Beethoven.

Though Beethoven's String Quartet No. 14 is the crux of the album, it's far from its only highlight. Title track "Seven Steps", composed collaboratively between the foursome using sketches and improvisation, was inspired by Brooklyn Rider's experience writing a piece with a band 2 Foot Yard for University at North Carolina, Chapel Hill. Consisting of seven parts, "Seven Steps" exists as a sort of modern mirroring of Beethoven's fourtheenth, partially recalling the sound and feel of Colin Jacobsen composed piece "Brooklesca" off 2008's Passport. Separating the two distinctive pieces is Christopher Tignor's "Together Into This Unknowable Night", a piece full of a solemnity and that minimalistically explodes into a beautiful multi-layered roar of tiered pizzicati and flowing melodic lines.

Even if classical music isn't your normal cup of tea, Brooklyn Rider provide you with ample to choose from in fast-paced thrill ride "Seven Steps", rich moving "Together Into This Unknowable Night", or the stunning masterpiece that is Beethoven's Op. 131 (that actually injects some much-appreciated joviality into the album in the form of the fifth movement's Scherzo) that something's bound to resonate with you. Seven Steps is an intensely pleasing affair that's sure to be enjoyed by all regardless of where your tastes normally lie. Brooklyn Rider has succeeded once again in creating an accessible gem that displays not only their talent but brilliantly highlights the talents of others.

Get a taste of Brooklyn Rider with opening/title track "Seven Steps" and if you like what you hear, you can check out the album on Spotify.

Live!: Matthew Bourne's Lord of the Flies at the Theatre Royal

After viewing a production of Matthew Bourne’s emotionally gripping adaptation of Swan Lake this past fall during its NYC season, I knew a transatlantic journey was a definite must. And so on the announcement of his newest work, an adaptation of William Golding’s Lord of the Flies (with an extremely limited run of about 5 days); I was drawn to Glasgow’s Theatre Royal through a sort of siren song and the promise of good theater.

British director/choreographer Matthew Bourne has brilliantly reimagined many a work, from Bizet’s Carmen to Prokofiev’s Cinderella and most famously Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake. His latest creation, Lord of the Flies certainly doesn’t disappoint. The production marks the first work since the start of his company, New Adventures, that wasn’t choreographed by Bourne, instead entrusting veteran company dancer and associate director Scott Ambler to bring his latest vision to life.

With Golding’s Lord of the Flies as the subject matter, there are certainly pitfalls and expectations as to what it would be like which Ambler and Bourne shatter effortlessly. Rather than set the action inside a jungle, they resorted to creative use of the space and an industrial inspired set although several elements of story’s fearsome jungle remain. Ambler, through his use of flowing lines followed by unpredictable hard-hitting choreography, did an incredible job of capturing the primal influence of the jungle- aided most definitely by frequent New Adventures collaborator Terry Davies’ score.

Dominic North’s portrayal as responsible peace-keeper leader Ralph was earnest, sincere, and heartbreaking: most notably in a lovely trio with Tim Bartlett (Simon) and Sam Plant (Piggy) as he questions his continued leadership and at the plays end where he sits dejected, tears streaming after the boys are rescued and the disaster averted. Adam Galbraith, Danny Reubens, and Jack Jones proved to be startlingly convincing as the terrifying violent trio of Jack, Roger, and Maurice while Luke Murphy and Phil Gardner as twins Sam and Eric with their picture perfect symmetry and radiant, bewilderingly charm was a definite highlight of the production and offered much needed comic relief.

Perhaps the ballet’s greatest achievement was in its inclusion of local children (many of whom had never danced before) giving them vigorous and challenging choreography to learn which they performed ably, like born professionals. Ambler’s choreography relying on a lot of repetition and synchronicity, the boys really stepped up to the challenge and tackled the difficult steps to fantastic effect.


Bourne’s Lord of the Flies is a true testament to the trust he has in the company members to bring his vision to life, the high level of talent contained within his company, as well as the effectiveness of his company’s educational branch Re:bourne. Here’s hoping there are plenty more innovative and imaginative collaborations from Bourne and his company. I know as long as there are, I’ll be willing to endure more transatlantic voyages to see them because quite frankly, they’re worth it.