The reading about Gordon made this make more sense, but not really.Why put this together? Chaos for it's own sake does not make art. To say, as Gann does, that: "Few totalist works have surpassed Four Kings in either complexity or clarity." I sincerely hope to be completely untrue. The complexity here at some points becomes too overwhelming to be appreciated by anyone but the performer, an incomprehensible slew of notes to the audience's ear. Four Kings as an archetype for Gordon's brand of music stands out in its complexity, yes, but often the tonally repetitive structure behind the awkward polyrhythmic meters become grating and static. The most enjoyable part for me was the silence that followed my listening.
Adams Dream in White on White
The long tonal nebula to open this piece makes a beautiful way for the harp to be heard, when far too often it becomes eclipsed by the texture surrounding it. My first reaction upon listening was 'how is this totalist?' Gann states totalism carries world or rock percussion textures, the melding of different cultural genres, but for the first five minutes, this is a beautiful, slow orchestral work, string orchestra with a leading harp solo. This would end up being the total makeup of White on White. I wonder if the other white, that is, the white outside of the white keys, refers to Alaskan snowdrifts and the peace that often accompanies them in photography, or rather the plaintive, pensive and peaceful structure of this slow, melismatic work. I do not hear White on White under Gann's definition of totalist. Though J. L. Adams falls into the category, this particular work could have been written by Philip Glass, among others, it does not distinguish Adams as say,
totally totalism.
Polansky scared me on the e-reserves because of it's sheer size, some twenty tracks. After reading I see very clearly how this fits into totalism, here are a few thoughts upon first listening, unchanged, even with typos. Incomplete thoughts and structure, like the piece, without a wall or filter.
Upon listening, the
Opening was nice and short, a quiet little piano ditty. Nothing unusual or unexpected here.
Little Black Dots. Again piano, which made me believe it could be like Duckworth's Time Curve Preludes, a piano cycle?
Chorale 1 Ethereal and uncertain, never landing
After Sobono 1 never found context or a groove, disjunct and inorganic. I really liked it's demented nature. Waltz 1 wasn't a waltz, no meter or structure was evident. Still derived a bit of tonality.
Unison-Octaves of course was a title for a flourishing, speedy race up and down the piano, it was however, much more true to form than the first waltz. At this point I really believe this would be a piano cycle, doesn't seem to make sense that it would be anything but.
Choral 2 typo? I'm not sure. Like the first chorale, this was filled with stable,quiet chords, moving as though connected to one another, but how the audience is unsure. It ended?
Genderan the title conjures up images of Chopin, a character who exists in between the keys. It even sounds a bit like Chopin, without the lyricism and energy.
Unison followed Genderan as Florestan follows Eusibius. It had moments of Joplin inside as well, a quirky convoluted contextual quandary with the lightest of jokes to finish.
Waltz II the dances are starting to make me think that Polansky has one leg, or possibly a wooden one. Choral III, faster than before, in more ways than one
Choral IV quieter and relaxed, and structured so the audience can grasp it.
Choral V, these seem to represent the shortest of the movements. Still tonal and obscure, I cannot hear how these come together.
Untitled I, that's a laugh. These feel unconnected, one minute I hear Chopin, the next I am listening to Ives. Why do these all tie together?
Untitled II, there really should be a better name for this. It sounds now like a simplified Rachmaninov piano cadenza, full and flourishing, with driving dark rhythms underlying frantic tunefulness in the high right hand. Very Fast and Loud I assumed would sound like Morton. In fact, it was loud, though fast would not be one of the first words I would use, even in length it surpasses several movements I have heard thusfar.
Choral VI was pleasurable, complex and quiet, relaxed in it's full tranquility.
The Hensly Deviations sound like Strauss's Till Eugenspiegels if written for piano, quirky and humorus, with a hint of evil or maybe just good ol' fashioned shenanigans. Like a lame dance, this imprecise tune sounds like a rambling drunkard.
Quietly, Peacefully, not as quiet, nor as peaceful as any of the six chorales, this sounds like it almost gets going, a prelude to nowhere.
Cengkok and Cada sounds out of place as well, awkward like a man who is a foot taller than everyone else in the room (sorry Brian). It found peace though, a sense of finality and one of the few recognizable cadences of the whole cycle, although it still came without preparation. A driving, if misdirected rhythm, the awkward stage seems to have been the conclusion of the previous movement. A beautiful ending to close.
Song the last in the cycle, like a jazz ballad, quiet and contemplative. This makes me want to stuff a dollar in the brandy glass on top of his piano before ordering myself three fingers of Black Label.
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