- 1. PREMONITION (05:14)
- 2. SOIL UNDER TREE (08:26)
- 3. DROPPING OUT OF SKY OR ROCK (04:46)
- 4. BITTER PRIDE - IN THE MIDST OF GREEN PLAIN (02:52)
- 5. PORTENTOUS REVELATION (06:12)
- 6. COME RIDE AND RIDE TO THE GARDEN (04:47)
- 7. RELENTLESSLY CURIOUS (02:54)
- 8. CLIFF, RAVINE, ROCK (03:16)
- 9. A GARDEN (01:14)
- 10. ROMANTICISM IN RELATION TO LIFE (09:11)
- 11. MICRO LYRICISM (05:26)
- 12. WIND AND MIRROR (04:09)
- 13. WIND AND MIRROR 2 (01:57)
- 14. SECRET SHARER (00:46)
Piano, Voice, Ice Paintings – Masashi Harada
Violin – Malcolm Goldstein
14 improvisations by Goldstein on violin and Harada on piano (and voice). Another successful attempt to overcome the inherent incompatibilities of these two instruments, that sounds somewhat unlike all previous attempts. 61 minutes.
Excerpts from sleeve notes:
Piano and violin; there cannot be two more unrelated instruments as these. One of black and white articulations, dots and dashes hammered out, and chords; the other of textures, rubbing bow upon string, with all the nuances in between. Points and lines. Stretch the two far enough and they meet in some distant sound space that becomes the here and now.
East meets West - but strangely the pianist, playing the most European of instruments, is from Japan and the violinist, playing the instrument with roots in the ancient east, is from the United States. Paradox in which the meeting ground creates a new music.
Within all of this interplay emerges the voice as the source for both - the source within the body of both musicians and that which transcends their individualities and links their shared human gesture. All this as glimpses of the unknown, revealed, sounding.
MALCOLM GOLDSTEIN (2005)
Malcolm's music often reminds me of forms found in nature; the structures he makes remind me of a tree branching out or a crystalline pattern. His gestures contain subgestures within them, like a fractal.
But his music doesn't imitate nature. Rather, it is itself an example of nature's processes in action. Though I haven't asked him, it's my assumption that beneath his acute technique there's a plane where he abandons control and picks up on another level, leaving the music to develop organically by itself.
In this approach to music making I feel great kinship. Making music, my perception is often focused on how the simple feedback of the process - from my body to the instrument, and through air pressure back to my body - triggers my next movement. At times a state comes where my will is abandoned and my body left to the velocity and decay of sound and its resonance. It becomes hard to say whether sound is controlling me or vice versa. And in an ensemble situation, such as the one documented here, the controlling force is even more ambiguous.
Because of that fact, my preferred term for this activity is 'generative music' or 'generative process'. In a sense, the music generates itself. It means immersing one's body in the flow of sound, asserting a physical impetus, then withdrawing to ride and navigate; or at times, purposefully disconnecting from the flow so two or more currents can coexist. Usually, the sounds behave in a most unexpected manner.
Most of my adult life was spent in Boston, Massachusetts, where my approach to music evolved. In Boston, especially from the early 1980s to the early 1990s, there were a number of small venue events that were revelations to me. Malcolm used to appear at the smallest of these and the audience was always small. But the music was inspirational to say the least. He made sounds my ears had never heard from a string instrument.
At the time, he was living in the mountains of Vermont without running water or electricity. He didn't seem to care too much about the size of the audience or documenting his music. In the late 1990s a friend introduced us, and I expressed my interest in his music. The soft-spoken man with quirky laughter reminded me of my old mentor John Cage (Cage in fact wrote a piece for him, as did Ornette Coleman).
Finally in 2002 came the chance to make music with him, at my last faculty recital at New England Conservatory, where he had also been a faculty member in the early 1970s. This recording was made the following day in Brookline, Massachusetts. Each time I hear it I discover different music.
Currently Malcolm lives in Montreal and I live in Hiroshima.
MASASHI HARADA (2005)