William Susman: A Quiet Madness
Belarca Records

A Quiet Madness is somewhat of a curious title for William Susman's latest release. The composer's music is seldom hushed, and neither is it deranged—not that there's any suggestion the title should be taken literally anyway. A better reading, perhaps, sees it as alluding to a state of controlled ecstasy, a characterization that, however oxymoronic, captures the careful balance achieved in the album's compositions. It turns out, however, that maybe the matter isn't all that complicated: a cursory scan of the set-list shows Susman simply combined words from two of the four pieces to form the title. No matter: the release builds on the strong impression established by his earlier releases, with this one's diverse presentation allowing his music to be appreciated from multiple vantage points.

The influence of classical minimalism on Susman's melodious music is undeniable, but he uses it as a foundation upon which to construct his own distinctive edifice. These settings enchant as they wend their way through different instrumental groupings, from the violin-and-piano serenity of the opening Aria on through the wholly transporting Seven Scenes for Four Flutes and beyond. Though its material was written between 2006 and 2013 and recorded on two continents, a cohesive impression forms due to the through-line of the composer's voice and the smart sequencing. By distributing three parts of the solo piano work Quiet Rhythms in amongst the other pieces, the album conveys a unified character capable of accommodating dramatic contrasts between the earthy and the ethereal.

Karen Bentley Pollick joins the composer on piano for the sensual Aria, as graceful a Susman composition as there could conceivably be. Her vibrato-rich violin glides across a lulling base of rippling piano patterns for twelve minutes, the instruments' upward movement reinforced by ongoing modulations in key. As much as the icons of American minimalism crop up when talk turns to Susman, such modulations call Michael Nyman to mind even more when the violin-and-piano combination produces music of such elegance.

Italian pianist Francesco Di Fiore executes the three Quiet Rhythms pieces, each part connected to the whole yet also asserting a distinct personality; each also shares a common structural property with the others in following a “prologue” with a corresponding “action.” Such a gesture orients the listener to the particular sound world in play before elaborations set in. That change is clearly discernible in Quiet Rhythms No. 1 when it advances from a floating opening into a more rhythmically charged central episode. Whereas No. 5 similarly evolves from the chiming ripples of its intro, a polyrhythmic stream of insistent chords in No. 7 brings the album to a resonant close.

Seven Scenes for Four Flutes is magnificently realized by Patricia Zuber (who partners with her marimba-playing husband Greg in Duo Zuber), whose sterling command of her instrument does much to make the piece the release's high point. Flutes intertwine and multiply into hypnotic masses for a dozen minutes, the music hypnotic, playful, and even at moments celestial. Inhabiting the opposite pole is Zydeco Madness, a careening single-movement setting performed by accordionist Stas Venglevski. If the material distances itself from the others for its jarring jump-cutting, it's because Susman purposefully designed it to evoke the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina on New Orleans, where the now Palo Alto-based Susman once lived for a year-and-a-half. Visualizing an accordion floating in the sludge of materials coursing through the city streets, he composed material that would suggest the chaotic movements of the unstoppable mass. However much Zydeco Madness might seem an outlier in this album context, it nevertheless retains the stamp of Susman's personality.

January 2021