Tag Archives: Classical music

Music

Kevin Keller’s Arcadia – 37 Minutes of Musical Joy

Close shot of sun at sunset, Brussels, Belgium

I’ve been writing the praises of contemporary composer Kevin Keller for years now. It has been fascinating to see his evolution from an extremely talented “ambient” composer/musician into one of the most vital and engaging classical music composers in America.

Keller’s Evensong, which was released in 2023, was a beautiful set of chamber choir pieces. He has just released its sequel, Arcadia, which primarily features the vocals of Sofia Campoamor, backed by a small choir and piano with string trio. As is usual with Keller, he augments this traditional musical setting with discreet and tasteful electronic touches. There simply is no other contemporary composer who can combine ancient musical styles and instrumentation with 21st century electronics as skillfully and satisfyingly as Kevin Keller.

All of the songs in Arcadia are sung in Latin, which creates a reverent and calming atmosphere throughout. The opening track, Arcadia 1, is “Et Vidi Caelum” (“And I Saw the Sky”). Hushed acapella vocals begin the song and are soon joined by various acoustic and electronic instruments. As the melody develops slowly and deliberately, the listener is transported into a state of bliss. I know I’m sounding hyperbolic, but this is some of the most beautiful music I’ve ever heard. The only thing I can compare it to is Thomas Tallis’ “Spem In Alium” or some of J. S. Bach’s fugues.

The second track, “Et Nox Ultra” (“And Night Is Over”) is a sprightly and wordless chant with a rhythmic bed of synths. It is full of anticipation for a new day. Arcadia 3, “Me Solum Me Invenio” (“I find myself alone”) is, appropriately, sung by Ms. Campoamor solo while accompanied by Keller on organ.

Kevin Keller and Sofia Campoamor

In Arcadia 4, “In Tenebris” (“In darkness”), the choir returns to sing a gentle lullaby accompanied by piano and string trio. As this song progresses, it becomes more insistent in its rhythm, but it maintains its control. It is one of the longer tracks at 6:22, and there is a beautiful, long coda that brings it to rest.

Arcadia 5 is “Mare, Littus, Flammam” (“Sea, Shore, Flame”), and you can hear waves gently washing ashore as Ms. Campoamor sings a melody that, to my ears, is full of longing. Her vocal is supported by a cello and soft electronics.

My favorite track is Arcadia 6: “In Equo Fugit” (“She flees on horseback”). It is introduced by a gentle pulse that is soon joined by the choir who sing an extraordinarily beautiful melody. I’m having a hard time conveying how delightful Keller’s music is here – it really is ineffable!

The final two tracks are “Et Lux Perpetua” (“And Eternal Light”) and “Veni Intus” (“Come Inside”) They bring our journey to a close with a very satisfying sense of returning to the comfort of a beloved sanctuary.

There is something very timely about the art Keller is creating these days. We live in such contentious times, which are exacerbated by social and news media.  Arcadia is a balm for the souls of people who need a respite from the 24/7 anxiety that our contemporary culture has a tendency to induce.

Spending 37 minutes listening to Kevin Keller’s Arcadia  is a great way to reset oneself – it is restorative and reminds us that true beauty still exists. I admire how Keller utilizes centuries-old forms of music to compose and perform new and refreshing music. He recognizes the precious worth of classic art, while building on it and adding his unique and immediately recognizable style. Here’s hoping Arcadia sparks a renaissance in contemporary classical music. Keller is planting a seed that promises to bear fruit to a world that is starved for music with lasting substance and beauty.

Arcadia is produced and performed by Kevin Keller. Sofia Campoamor sings lead vocals, while Katherine Wessinger, Danya Katok, and Wendy Baker form the choir. Sarah Zun plays violin, Angela Pickett viola, and Laura Metcalf cello.

You can purchase Arcadia at https://www.kevinkeller.com/arcadia.

Music

More Classical Favorites: The 20th Century

This is the third and final post I’ll write sharing my favorite albums of classical music. I’ll be devoting my picks to twentieth century composers, and I’d like to start with France’s Claude Debussy, and an album with a generous helping of his music

La Mer  is one of Debussy’s most well known works. It is a big departure from composers like Beethoven, in that he creates an atmosphere through music that doesn’t appear to have a beginning, middle, or end. It’s beautiful and completely tonal, and it does a great job of conjuring images of the ocean. This album also includes the delightful Prélude À L’Aprés-Midi D’Un Faune. Charles Dutoit conducts the Orchestre Symphonique De Montreal in these performances from 1990.

Also from France is Maurice Ravel, and my favorite album of his music is again performed by Charles Dutoit with the Orchestre Symphonique De Montreal. 

Ravel is perhaps best known for Bolero, but I find myself returning to these relatively short works. They are very melodic and soothing – like Debussy, they are evocative of various scenes. These pieces date from the early 1900s, and they are like impressionistic paintings, but in musical terms.

Another French composer (last one, I promise!) that is a favorite is Erik Satie. He was an eccentric guy, and I don’t think his contemporaries appreciated his genius. Since his death, his Gymnopedies have been recorded countless times, especially in orchestral form. He was “New Age” decades before that genre appeared. 

This album is all solo piano pieces performed by Pascal Roge, and it is delightful. On first listen, the melodies seem childishly simple, but they have surprising depth. This album from 1984 is one of my all-time favorites.

While we’re on the subject of piano music, another favorite collection of pieces is Water Music of the Impressionists, performed by Carol Rosenberger. It includes water-themed works by Liszt, Griffes, Ravel, and Debussy.

Another Delos Records production, it sounds fantastic, and the program is a lot of fun and relaxing.

Over in England, a favorite composer of mine was Ralph Vaughan Williams. This album collects several serenades and suites that are all very relaxing and pleasant. 

The standout track on this album is the violin showpiece, The Lark Ascending. It is nearly fifteen minutes of musical bliss, in which time seems to stand still. It is an astonishingly beautiful piece of music.

Sir Adrian Boult was one of Vaughan Williams’s most sympathetic interpreters, and if you like this album, I encourage you to get all of his symphonies performed by Boult.

It’s time to up the energy level, so let’s take a look at a classic album from the RCA Records vault: Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Concerto No. 2 and Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini,  performed by the pianist Artur Rubinstein with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by Fritz Reiner.

This is unabashedly romantic music that sounds amazing, given it was recorded in 1956. The Rhapsody got a new lease on life when it was featured in the movie Somewhere In Time, starring Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour. It’s a beautiful and moving piece that has wonderful melodies.

Over in the United States, some strange things were happening – an insurance salesman named Charles Ives was pursuing his unique vision of a classical music that celebrated America and its optimism as it entered the twentieth century. 

Ives was decades ahead of his time, and his music is weird and fun at the same time. Central Park in the Dark is meant to portray the experience of sitting on a bench in Central Park as various bands and singing groups play around you while “a fire engine, a cab horse runs away, lands ‘over the fence and out'”. You can hear snatches of popular songs like “Camptown Races” and “Turkey in the Straw” in the Holidays Symphony. 

One of America’s greatest composers in the twentieth century was George Gershwin. My favorite album of his music is this one performed by Michael Tilson Thomas and the Los Angeles Philharmonic

Most people are familiar with the heavily orchestrated version of Rhapsody In Blue. Tilson went back to the original 1924 version and performs it with a small ensemble. The result is amazing, as it swings like crazy. The Preludes for Piano are fantastic, bouncy works. The closing track, Promenade, is from a Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movie, Shall We Dance. This is a perfect album to play during a cocktail party.

In Italy, Ottorino Respighi was resurrecting sixteenth and seventeenth century songs and incorporating them into his music. The results were his three suites of Ancient Airs and Dances. 

I may be cheating here, because these melodies date from the Baroque era, but Respighi composed his suites in the twentieth. Regardless, this a wonderful album, and Seiji Ozawa with the Boston Symphony Orchestra turns in a lively performance. This is classical music music that makes you want to dance!

My favorite composer of the twentieth century is Igor Stravinsky. He is to modern classical music what Miles Davis was to jazz – a trailblazer who is not afraid to change. Stravinsky challenged the musical status quo, but he never lost his appreciation for classic forms. His later music was even very conservative, compared to what other composers were doing. I have to highlight three of his most famous works: The Firebird, Petrouchka, and Le Sacre du Printemps (The Rite of Spring). 

All three are performed by Charles Dutoit and the Orchestre Symphonique De Montreal. These three works were groundbreaking when they were first performed, and they continue to be quoted from in popular culture. 

Finally, a couple of albums that feature more than one composer, but they are both ones that I return to repeatedly.

First, this classic album from RCA Victor: Alan Hohvaness’s Mysterious Mountain, Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kije Suite, and Stravinsky’s The Fairy’s Kiss: Divertimento.

Fritz Reiner and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra do an outstanding job with these three works, and the sonics are incredible for a 65-year-old recording. I could do an entire post on how much I love Hovhaness’s music. He was a very prolific composer, with at least 67 known symphonies and countless other pieces. He was a lover of tonality and melody, and his music deserves to be better known.

Prokofiev’s Lieutenant Kije Suite is an extremely enjoyable piece that sparkles and delights, while the Stravinsky piece is excellent as well. This is an album with a near-perfect program of modern music.

The last album I’ll recommend is another one from Delos, and it features Stravinsky’s The Soldier’s Tale, Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony, and Dimitri Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No. 1.

The Soldier’s Tale is a folk tale of a Russian soldier who makes a Faustian bargain with the devil. In return for his violin, the devil gives him a book that enables him to amass a fortune. The soldier soon finds out that money does not equal happiness. Stravinsky’s soundtrack is scored for a very small ensemble. He composed it during WWI in Switzerland, and he wanted it to easy to produce. The music is very rhythmic and energetic, with lots of nice melodies.

Prokofiev’s Classical Symphony is only 13 minutes long, and it’s like a rollercoaster ride. It’s very accessible and fun. The Shostakovich Piano Concerto features Carol Rosenberger, and she turns in a fine performance.

Bonus! A Brief Look at Minimalism

At the tail end of the twentieth century, a new style of music, Minimalism became quite popular. Most people trace its origin to Terry Riley’s In C. This style is characterized by repetitive phrases under which themes gradually develop. It is the antithesis of atonality, but it also doesn’t owe much to traditional ideas of melody. I personally enjoy it, but there have been a lot derivative and unoriginal music made under the Minimalist label. Here are four albums that I think are worth checking out:

This is the one album that is the best representative of what Minimalism is about. Reich’s Variations for Winds, Strings, and Keyboards is engaging and very enjoyable, while Adams’s Shaker Loops is a classic of the genre. I highly recommend this one.

Philip Glass is probably the most famous Minimalist composer. I went to a concert of his and got a headache – the music was very amplified and relentless. This album has no electronic instruments, and it is very enjoyable. I listen to it often.

Daniel Lentz is an interesting artist. He likes to take spoken and sung phrases, chop them up, throw them back together in random ways, and see what happens. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. On On the Leopard Altar, it mostly works. I’m including it, because it contains one of the most ethereal and incredibly calming pieces of music I’ve ever heard: Lascaux. This piece is performed entirely on rubbed and struck wineglasses. It’s indescribably beautiful.

I’ll close this long(!) post with what I consider to be a true contemporary classic: Arvo Part’s Tabula Rasa.

Part would resent my including him in the Minimalsit camp. He describes his music as tintinnabulation. Nevertheless, it has a lot of repetition, but in a way that serves a greater purpose. Part is a devout Orthodox Christian, and he is familiar with Hesychastic prayers – simple prayers that are repeated over and over. His music is an attempt to express his faith. He uses silence and simplicity, and the results are extremely moving. His music truly is timeless.

I hope this post has piqued your curiosity and you make some enjoyable new musical discoveries!

Music

An Appreciation of Classical Music, Part 2

In my previous post, I explained that while I am no expert in classical music, I do know what I like, and I’m happy to share my favorites. I know there are large gaps in my recommendations – no Haydn, Wagner, Mendelsohn, opera, etc. – but if you’re new to this genre, these albums are a good way to stick your toe in the water.

This post will focus primarily on two composers: Mozart and Beethoven. To start things off for Mozart, I’m recommending Murray Perahia’s performance of his Piano Concerti Nos. 19 & 23 with the English Chamber Orchestra.

I have all of Mozart’s piano concerti by Perahia, and this album is the one I play the most often. It is sprightly, charming, and the recording itself is excellent. Every time I put it on the stereo, it’s like sitting down with an old friend.

Next is an album of three of Mozart’s symphonies, Nos. 28, 29, and 35, “Haffner”, conducted by Claudio Abbado with the Berlin Philharmonic. These were recorded in the early ’90s, and they sound terrific. No. 35, “Haffner”, especially gives my stereo system a real workout. These symphonies are all beautiful pieces of music. I appreciate how polished and precise they are: No. 29 is the longest at just 30 minutes. 

Mozart also wrote wonderful string quartets, and two of my favorites are on this album: The Hunt and Dissonance. The first time I heard the latter, my jaw dropped; its intro sounds like something composed in the early twentieth century!

Next is an album of just fun works by Mozart, including one of the most recognizable pieces in all of music – his Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. These are relatively old recordings from the early 1960s, but Bruno Walter is my favorite conductor, so that’s why I listen to this album. 

To conclude my Mozart favorites, I’m featuring his Requiem, once again conducted by Walter. This work gives me chills every time I listen to it. This recording is mono, but I still love it. As a bonus, the album also include Bruckner’s beautiful Te Deum.

I’ve just scratched the surface of the incredible catalog of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. His Horn Concertos are delightful, as well as his Clarinet, Bassoon, and Oboe Concertos. Basically, you can’t go wrong with anything he wrote – it’s all good.

Beethoven took the symphony form and made it into his own. My favorite piece of classical music, bar none, is his Symphony No. 6 “Pastorale”. I use it as my morning alarm on my phone every day. I’ve listened to it probably more than any other classical work, and I have yet to tire of it. It never fails to lift my spirit. 

Naturally, I picked Bruno Walter’s performance! Don’t ask me why, but I find his conducting to be enjoyable and illuminating. 

Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, “Chorale”, with its “Ode To Joy” in the Finale is another very familiar work. I couldn’t decide which performance to recommend, so I wimped out and offer you two: Leonard Bernstein with the NY Philharmonic from 1969, and Wilhelm Furtwangler with the Beyreuth Festival Orchestra from 1955. If you ever wondered whether a conductor can make a difference in an orchestra’s performance, compare these two! Bernstein’s is relatively straightforward, while Furtwangler’s seems all over the place, yet strangely compelling. I’ve read that he made all kinds of weird gestures while conducting, yet he managed to elicit very exciting performances from his musicians.

Another classic recording by Furtwangler is his Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, paired with Schubert’s Symphony No. 8, “Unfinished”. Both are from the 1950s and are mono, but they are great fun. Schubert was one of the most gifted composers in terms of coming up with beautiful melodies.

Leaving Beethoven, I turn to an album that features two very moving and beautiful requiems, one by Gabriel Faure and the other by Maurice Durufle. These are performed by Robert Shaw with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, they are perfect to listen to on a quiet Sunday afternoon. 

I’ll wrap this post up with Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 “Titan”. Mahler took the symphony to its limit, with his Symphony No. 2 “Resurrection” running over 80 minutes long. His first symphony, though, is an easy listen with lots of folk melodies to hum along to.

Which brings us to the twentieth century. In my next post, I’ll focus on some French, Russian, and American composers. I wish you pleasant listening experiences!

Music

An Appreciation of Classical Music (From Someone Who Knows Nothing About It)

I would like to share some of my favorite albums of classical music. I make no claims to be an expert – I can’t play an instrument and I can’t read music. There are huge gaps in my knowledge, but I know what I like, and these recordings have given me hours of pleasure over the years. As I feature them, it will become clear that I have some definite favorites in terms of composers, conductors, and performers. I’m sure there are better performances available; all I know is what I enjoy. I have a definite bias towards 20th century composers, because that’s the century I’ve lived most of my life. That said, I’m not a fan of atonal music – if it doesn’t have a nice melody, I’m not going to spend much time with it.

Let’s begin with the earliest composer in my collection: Thomas Tallis (1505 – 1585).

 This recording of Spem In Alium (“Hope in Any Other”) is incredible. It is nine minutes of sheer heaven. Performed by 8(!) 5-part choirs, the music slowly develops and blends into a complex yet comprehensible polyphonic thing of beauty. If a gothic cathedral could be transformed into music, it would sound like this. 

Next is probably one of the most well-known pieces of classical music ever: Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons.

There is usually a good reason a work is enduringly popular, and The Four Seasons proves it. This is an immensely enjoyable suite of music that never fails to satisfy. Melodic and delightful, it will be eternally popular. My favorite performance of this very familiar work is by Gerard Schwarz and the LA Chamber Orchestra with Elmar Oliveira on violin. It is on the Delos label, and I have always appreciated their attention to recording details. When I hit “play”, the music explodes out of my speakers (I still listen to music primarily via Lps and CDs on a conventional stereo system). This is a very lively and energetic performance that I never get tired of.

In the ’80s, Christopher Hogwood started a bit of a craze of performing classical works in an “authentic” manner using period instruments and appropriate numbers of players in his ensemble. Handel’s Musick For The Royal Fireworks was one of the first classical works that I “got”. When I was in eighth grade (1974), my family spent a semester in Cambridge, and the poor music teacher at the school I attended had to try to instill a love of classical music in me and my classmates. We were completely into David Bowie, Bad Company, Queen, and other rock artists. However, when she explained the context in which Handel composed this music and asked us to listen to it, I found myself really enjoying it. I still do to this day. This album also includes Handel’s Water Music Suite which was performed on barges as King George I and his court floated down the Thames to a dinner party. He enjoyed it so much he had them play it twice (now we just hit <-)! I would do the same in the circumstances.

I’ll conclude this post with the composer whom I consider to be one of the three greatest in human history: Johann Sebastian Bach.

In 1955, a young Glenn Gould exploded on the classical music scene with his recording of The Goldberg Variations. They were written for a solo harpsichord – the piano hadn’t been invented yet – but Gould made them his own. According to legend, these variations were written to soothe a nobleman who suffered from insomnia. Whatever the true genesis, they are endlessly inventive and enjoyable. Gould’s performance is wonderful, and this album is one of the all-time classics of the genre. I also have the Variations as performed by Murray Perahia, and they are excellent as well, but this is album is the one I return to most often.

Bach was extremely prolific, so there is no way just a couple of albums could ever do him justice, but if you’re just starting out, having his Brandenburg Concertos is a perfect introduction. I could listen to these six concertos and never plumb their depths completely. It is such an immediately pleasurable experience to hear them, even if you don’t have any experience with classical music. The Academy of St. Martin in the Fields, conducted by Sir Neville Marriner is outstanding on these performances. They were recorded in analog in the late 1970s, but they sound crisp, clean, and clear. This album also includes Bach’s four Orchestral Suites and three Violin Concertos. What an embarrassment of riches!

As I laid out in the beginning, I am no expert when it comes to classical music; I just wanted to share some performances that I have enjoyed very much. In my next post, I’ll tackle Mozart, Beethoven, and a couple other classical composers.

Music

In Concert: A Great Orchestra, A Hot Conductor, A Thrilling Night

The Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Friday, May 2, 2025.

It had been more than 15 years since I had heard the Chicago Symphony Orchestra live – and nearly 25 since I had heard them on their home ground, Orchestra Hall in Symphony Center. So last year, when the CSO announced that young conducting phenomenon Klaus Mäkelä (referenced in my highlights of 2024 post) had accepted the post of Music Director Designate, I decided that a renewed acquaintance with one of the USA’s top orchestras was long overdue.

Orchestra Hall, dating all the way back to 1904, is a unique venue in and of itself: its wide but thin stage and steeply raked balconies make for a intimate (if not always comfortable) concert experience. Renovations in the 1990s added gallery seats above and behind the stage, as well as a suspended shell to soften and deepen a challenging acoustic. So it wasn’t hard to imagine the musicians feeling like they were in a fishbowl as they clambered atop multilevel risers in front of a full house.

But beyond the typical pre-concert buzz, there was a question in the air. By and large, Mäkelä has made his reputation in post-Romantic and 20th-century music — well-regarded recordings of Sibelius and Stravinsky, Chicago guest shots focused on big pieces by Shostakovich and Mahler. Would his take on the core classical repertoire — works the CSO has performed since its start in the 1890s, conducted by everyone from founding conductor Theodore Thomas to previous Music Director Riccardo Muti — measure up?

That question was answered in a flash, as Mäkelä and CSO Artist in Residence Daniil Trifonov whipped up a fresh, appealing reading of Johannes Brahms’ Piano Concerto No. 2. None of the overbearing, ponderous sludge that unimaginative historians accuse Brahms of here! Trifonov’s playing was always flowing, supple and strong, with no hints of pounding or cloudy tone; CSO principals Mark Almond (horn) and John Sharp (cello) made the most of their lyrical solo moments with warm tone and deep expressiveness; and the orchestra sounded lithe and limber in the extended opening, energetically playful in Brahms’ scherzo, chastely gorgeous in a delectable Andante, and delightfully bouncy in the closing Allegretto. All the while, Mäkelä was sculpting the overall sound, focusing balances, dynamics and timing for maximum emotional impact. The scattered spontaneous applause after every movement (the grinning conductor and pianist had to restrain themselves before pouncing on the finale) was proof that the music hit home, even before the final ovation and the outsized reaction to Trifonov’s encore (a Chopin prelude lasting less than a minute).

After intermission came a centennial tribute to the CSO’s late Principal Guest Conductor Pierre Boulez (who conducted the orchestra the last time I’d heard them — a dark, lush program of Ravel and Bartok in Ann Arbor, back in 2010). Well executed by brass septet and precisely conducted by Mäkelä, Boulez’s Initiale lived up to its billing — a tart, postmodern appetizer announcing itself pointedly, quickly tying itself into contrapuntal knots, then breaking loose for a final flourish. Complete with a tuba mute (which always makes me smile)!

But it was the last work on the program, Antonin Dvořák’s Symphony No. 7, that really showed what Mäkelä and the CSO can accomplish together. The orchestra’s tone was at its richest, its dynamic range wider and its rhythmic flow freer than in the Brahms. Mäkelä threw himself into the piece with greater animation and more sweeping body language — but also with a greater willingness to let the players take the reins, dropping his beat to focus on accents and phrasing for surprisingly long stretches. The powerful resonance of Dvořák’s opening themes and their punchy development, the breadth of feeling in his Andante, the infectious swing of the Scherzo’s cross-rhythms, and the hard-won, dramatic climax — they were all there in vibrant technicolor, fully formed, overflowing with life and vigor. You could tell that Mäkelä dug leading the CSO, and they obviously dug playing with him. And the audience absolutely loved it, leaping to its feet as Makela acknowledged the symphony’s featured musicians, brought the orchestra up for their bow — and modestly pointed to Dvořák’s score as the applause continued.

When he becomes the CSO’s Music Director in the fall of 2027 (while at the same time taking over Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw Orchestra), Klaus Mäkelä will be 31. Based on last Friday night’s concert, he’s got an amazing head start — both on a lifetime of personal musical growth, and building a potentially astounding rapport with one of the top orchestras in the world. Believe me, I’ll be back to Chicago much sooner next time!

— Rick Krueger

Music

Floating Points, Pharoah Sanders & the London Symphony Orchestra, “Promises”

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!!
Imagine if you will . . .

From silence, a seven note riff on piano, celeste and harpsichord, cycling over two repeated bass notes. Recorded so intimately you hear the piano’s damper pedals lift, as much a part of the cycle’s rhythm as the melodic tones.

About a minute and a half in, the cry of a saxophone. First responding to the keyboard cycles, then skirling continuously over them. Electric piano creeps in to fill the empty sonic crevices while the London Symphony’s strings pass above, dividing from a unison note into clustered washes. The blues are unmistakably evident from Pharaoh Sanders’ first note — and somehow the emotion he conveys is echoed in the ethereal, dissonant orchestral blanket.

The riff cycles, the sax and strings ebb; Sam Shepherd (aka Floating Points) steps forward with hesitant, mellow yet insistent synthesizers. Then, unexpectedly, Sanders vocalises — running scales, lip trilling, removing his horn from the equation and trusting us with his unadorned humanity, to gripping, gorgeous effect.

As he picks up the sax again, the mood and the eternal motif shift to match. Darker, thicker keys in a minor mode support grittier, more active improvisation and a stark synthesized squall by Shepherd, before subsiding to quiet counterpoint behind the unending riff.

Sanders leaps in once more — only to give way to a sustained, yearning solo cello solo that awakens the orchestra. The meditation that ensues is another moment of sheer beauty — gigantic, suspended unison lines that become a breathtaking mash-up of spiritual jazz and the English pastoral tradition, John Coltrane and Ralph Vaughan Williams locked in brotherly embrace.

The string chords pile up, mounting through consonance to dissonance — then collapse! In the ensuing silence, a quiet violin, answered by electric piano. Then, Sanders — this time so hushed, yet so gritty and breathy, over a fragile web of keyboard accents strung across the unstopping riff. A distant synth joins the dialog; Sanders cajoles it closer, helps it take more definite shape, then backs away, as Shepherd fires up free floating sequences across the stereo field and weaves a solo around them.

For the final time, Sanders breaks loose above the echoing, fading field of electronic sound, both conjuring up both the heady free jazz of his youth and the measured maturity of his long career into a memorable melodic volley. Shepherd returns to his subdued accents on synth, organ, electric piano; the riff patiently continues to cycle. Silence resumes its initial place in the piece, now dominant but not triumphant.

Until the riff stops! In its place, thick, ponderous organ chords that trail off into vibrato and echo. Total quiet; a slow-growing cloud of treated strings that burst into glittering fireworks, then subside into the final silence.

Fortunately, you don’t have to imagine this. Floating Points’ remarkable collaboration with Pharoah Sanders and the LSO is real. And moving. And my favorite album of the year to date. Listen to it below, then get it for yourself via Bandcamp.

— Rick Krueger