You know you’re onto a captivating recording when you’re so mesmerized by the music that you barely notice the unusual manner in which it was created. Pianist Kelly Moran employs various preparations, including screw-and-bolt obstructions à la Cage and long tones sustained via ebows and inside-the-piano string plucks, recording them all for further electronic manipulation and for playing back via MIDI-controlled keyboard. But the means serve the music so seamlessly that the manner in which it was produced becomes secondary to the end results. With eleven tracks covering only thirty-three minutes, all pieces are miniatures, each named after a flower. This is a quiet and fragrant music, the overall feel relaxed and sparse, grounded by the diversity of textures that differ between each track.
Moran begins where Cage left off, as the opening piece “Iris” emphasizes gamelan-like gongs and shorter harpsichord-like percussive strikes, and the first few seconds of the second piece “Celandine” consist of a repetitive cycle reminiscent of classical Indonesian music. The differences soon become apparent as a contemporary piano melody is layered above the continuing background. “Freesia” further develops the concept, its tune lying above a bed that includes both prepared and standard piano tones mixing into a whirlwind of colours. “Hyacinth” is based around inside-the-piano string sweeps, using a different range for each hit to carve out a harmonic field delicately decorated with scattered single tones.
On Bloodroot Moran has forged an eerie yet beautiful sound, creatively updating the history of contemporary piano.
