My Microtonal Piano
New solo works for the microtonal piano by composers Eivind Buene, Keiko Harada, Oyvind Maeland, Michelle Agnes Magalhaes and Andreas Gundersen. Lawo, 2024
Snow Soul
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air –
When it comes, the Landscape listens –
Shadows – hold their breath –
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death
(There’s a certain Slant of light, Emily Dickinson)
Soul of Snow, much like my previous pieces, originates within the realm of the piano, delicately exposing its harp to fingers that meticulously manipulate the continuity and contrasts between harmonic and inharmonic sounds. The pianist's hands, their direct friction on the strings, and the sonic traces they leave in a blend of resonance construct a unique and distinct acoustic space. This space will be redefined, expanded, and deepened by the timbral harmonies of alternating thirds (a subtle allusion to Debussy's studies). These cuts, contrasts, articulate the form, introducing perspectives or free navigation through the layers. Microtonality is integrated here as color and depth.
"Soul of Snow," one of my pieces paying tribute to Emily Dickinson (much like "Herbarium," a cycle for piano, percussion, and double bass), seeks a connection (and its paradoxes) between the intimacy and explosiveness of life and death. For me, personally, "Soul of Snow" carries the marks and memories of the year I spent in New England between 2017 and 2018, not far from Dickinson's residence. It encapsulates all of my amazement, my discovery, and my musical translation of this wintry landscape.
Tecelagem (Weaving room) is a micro-experiment, a tribute to Anni Albers, a German textile artist who extensively explored rhythm and movement, crafting artworks on a handloom. This miniature was born from the observation of her textile objects.
The beginning of the score, at the edge of visual and musical intersection, displays the arrangement of patterns, a translation of stitches and lines.
The central part of the piece functions both as a disruption and an aperture, like a fissure in the musical tissue.
In my imagination, it's a pause-opening of manual labor, followed by a return to the cyclical and repetitive time of the handloom.