Ann Sweeten: Change Is in the Wind
Orange Band Records

Pianist Ann Sweeten has dealt with more health challenges than most. Already a two-time Breast Cancer survivor, she was diagnosed with Leukemia in April 2017 during the writing period of what would become her fourteenth album, 2019's Before Today, Beyond Tomorrow. In the wake of that diagnosis, she resolved to continue living life to its fullest, though now armed with a renewed appreciation for the fragility of life. That she produced a statement as life-affirming as Before Today, Beyond Tomorrow testified to her strength of will, and much the same could be said of its follow-up Change Is in the Wind. Its creation was accompanied by new life challenges, the pandemic of course but also the passing of her father in late 2019.

Much like its predecessor, the material on the release transcends categorization in blending chamber classical and New Age into music of beguiling beauty. Strengthening the connection between the two albums, Nancy Rumbel (English horn), Eugene Friesen (cello), and Charlie Bisharat (violin) grace Change Is in the Wind with magnificent contributions, just as they did the earlier one. The new recording comes with a glowing endorsement from Windham Hill Records founder Will Ackerman, who's worked with the Steinway artist for fifteen years and, as he's done before, co-produced the album with her. Further testifying to the clarity of the album production, Change Is in the Wind was engineered, mixed, and mastered by Tom Eaton.

Sweeten has used her music to heal herself and, in turn, others, which has given her an enhanced sense of purpose. It's clearly no accident that one piece is titled “Silver Lining,” which reflects the indomitable spirit of its creator. Other titles such as “What Blooms Beneath the Snow,” “Emergence,” and “Change Is in the Wind” convey her hope for the future. That outlook can't help but make the uplifting tone of the music resonate all the more powerfully.

With Rumbel and Friesen complementing Sweeten's elegant piano playing, “Arctic Dance” establishes the graceful neo-classical character of the material at the outset, with in this case an undercurrent of melancholy imbuing the performance with a plaintive quality. Hope, by comparison, elevates the subsequent “What Blooms Beneath the Snow,” whose yearning tone is intensified by Bisharat's violin. In a particular arresting moment, he appears midsong unaccompanied before Sweeten rejoins him with a sweet caress. Serenity pervades the dialogue-like interactions between Rumbel and Bisharat in “What My Eyes Can't See” and Rumbel and Friesen in the riveting closer “Silver Lining.”

Much as Sweeten affectionately honours her father's memory in “One Last October,” she does the same in the dignified evocation “May 24, 42 Years Ago” in having the title reference the day of her mother's passing. Two settings, “Turning the Page” and “Forever Sunday,” feature the pianist alone and thus offer the purest account of her artistry. These performances clarify that she's no minimalist, yet she doesn't overwhelm the listener with a barrage of notes either. Instead, a satisfying middle ground is achieved where lyrical melodic themes are embroidered with taste and circumspection.

September 2021