I've just finished my second complete listening to Simone Dinnerstein's A Character of Quiet (more HERE), and as much as I enjoyed my first listen, this time around it was even better. I often find that it takes several listens for me to appreciate music. Sometimes it is very extreme...as, for instance, with my first listens...and sometimes many more than one...to several David Bowie albums, wherein I actually fervently disliked the music at first, and it later became very near and dear to my heart. Nothing like that with my first A Character of Quiet, but still, yes, the second time around was even better.
When the first song on the album...Philip Glass's "Etude No. 16" ended, I started thinking...you know, that almost didn't sound like Philip Glass. I hasten to add that (1) I love Philip Glass, (2) I have loved Philip Glass for four and a half decades, and (3) I think Simone Dinnerstein played this piece beautifully. But that said, I have to admit that I have to be in the right mood to listen to Philip Glass. There's a certain...well, I've searched my brain for the word for about an hour now, and nothing seems suitable, so I'll coin my own: thunkiness. I do not mean that as a disparaging word, by the way. It's in the same genus as the sound tennis shoes in the dryer make. There's a certain sorrowful heaviness. Add outbursts of stridentcy. And the feeling of being startled out of a deep sleep by a sound which you can't seem to recall. You know...thunkiness. There's a certain thunkiness to Philip Glass's music.
I did not discern thunkiness in Simone Dinnerstein's version of "Etude No. 16." So I thought maybe it was just something inherent in the piece, and I listened to someone else's version of the same song...and it sounded very Philip Glass-y. So I went looking for other renditions. I ended up on iTunes, listening to the 90 second previews (that's a lot more generous than I remembered it being) of 9 versions of "Etude No. 16" (including Simone Dinnerstein's). It was an interesting exercise. Just looking at the listings tells you something:
Check out the lengths of the pieces. Simone's version is three minutes and sixteen seconds longer than the Maki Namekawa version...and 54 seconds longer than the second longest, the Anton Batagov one. And that makes a big difference. It makes the piece more meditative, gentler. Also, in every other version here--even the harp version (I shit thee not)--at around the 1:15 mark the music shifts to that characteristic Philip Glass Stride...but Simone's version, even though it starts at the same place (as do all of these versions) doesn't make it to that part...because it is moving more slowly. In fact, she doesn't get to that part until over a minute later. And even when she does...there's still that meditative / gentler aspect to her playing. I think there's also a gentler touch on the keyboards...not something you normally associate with Glass music...and maybe a touch of hesitation just before a series of notes is finished. Hmm. I find myself wishing that I had the language to more accurately refer to musical technique. But you get the idea. To my mind, this is a much more thoughtful version of Glass's song.
So yes, even if you already have "Etude No. 16," I think you would like this one. Like, hell. I think you would love it.
P.S. This is a long album, by the way:
That's a lot of bang for your buck.
P.P.S. You can order this album directly from Simone Dinnerstein at https://www.simonedinnerstein.com/store. These are hard times for musicians, so lend a hand if you can.
P.P.S. After writing this bit, I fired up the cd player for Listen #3. Yep. It's getting better all the time.
P.P.P.S. Oh, hey...look what I just found:
Join Philip Glass & Simone Dinnerstein in wishing Arvo Pärt a very happy 85th birthday! #arvopart #happybirthday @sdinnerstein #OTD pic.twitter.com/ZpxigN3tsC
— Philip Glass (@philipglass) September 10, 2020
No comments:
Post a Comment