Icelandic composer Snorri Hallgrímsson kicks off the fall in fine style with The Importance of Birds, an EP perfectly timed to score the upcoming migration.
From quiet beginnings, the music blossoms into an extended meditation. At first there is only the sound of wind and the impression of a single bird floating through the air, only occasionally flapping its wings. The strings offer a phrase, then fall silent, then offer another; this opening piece, “I’ve Been Here Before,” takes on ironic meaning as it will be repeated at the end of the set as a bonus track showcasing the piano. Hearing the spaces between the notes, one thinks of Jóhann Jóhannsson as an influence; the music fills in like water covering footprints at the shore.
“And There Was Nowhere” introduces a surprising beat, subtle yet confident. The timbre is a bit darker, like incoming clouds, but without rain. A dramatic surge in the second minute, punctuated by cymbals, lifts the piece to a higher level before it drifts back to earth, borne on ivory notes and quieter strings. Due to its title and timbre, one views “Nowhere Again, Kinder” as an extension of the prior theme, highlighting the intimacy of solo miked piano. The baton then shifts to solo violin, “The Wick That Slits the Shadow” like that same bird, setting off alone but finally met by the flock. “From a Convenient Grass” suggests the entire flock landing, feeding, washing, gathering their strength for the next leg of the migration. Even greener pastures await.
The latest single, “Row Softer Home,” follows the trajectory of earlier pieces, surging in the center, breaking through the clouds to the comforting warmth of the sun. In the first of two finales, one can hear the piano creak again, “Burning Little, Long and Slow” suggesting either a candle or the energy needed to cross thousands of miles in search of a winter home. How many will make it to their destination? How many will return in the spring? Will we miss them in the quieter months, when we are awoken not by birdsong, but by a vast and empty silence? When the set circles back to “I’ve Been Here Before,” we remember the cyclical nature of avian life. As autumn flocks pass overhead, we already anticipate their return. (Richard Allen)
Available here