Album insights
You are now entering a world like no other, a universe of sound that deviates completely from the familiar linear musical narratives. With "For Bunita Marcus," Feldman succeeded in starting anew, creating a realm governed by its own laws, demanding engagement on its terms. This realm is characterized by extreme restraint in resources, both in radically reduced dynamics and the unusual sparsity of the phrases. The wonder lies in how this seemingly limited material unfolds into multiple dimensions, allowing the listener to perceive and be touched by the music in numerous ways.
Upon sitting down at the piano for the first time to play Feldman's piece, I felt an immediate sense of liberation. Years of delving into the darker realms of literature for my instrument had not elicited a similar sensation. No amount of study in traditional repertoire could have prepared a pianist for a 72-minute stretch of delicate piano music played at pianissimo throughout with sustained pedal. As the piece unfolded, I experienced conflicting impressions, realizing that a single listening cannot reveal the multitude of ways this work can be heard and understood.
An example: While playing the work, a parallel to the unsettling short story by Jorge Luis Borges, "The Library of Babel," came to mind—even though Feldman may not have intended it. This piece of prose stands as one of the most astonishing ever written. Like Borges' universe of a library, potentially extending infinitely in all directions, Feldman's piece renders time irrelevant, pitch secondary, and each moment serves as a gateway to the infinite. Every familiar concept of form vanishes.
Yet, the piece's versatility can lead us to perceive it in entirely different ways. Its stasis can be both calming and unsettling, a sanctuary of purity or the antithesis of infinity—a frightening, claustrophobic, self-contained universe. Similar to Borges, the individual tones and the "phrases" they form could belong to any language and signify anything.
It became evident that this work achieved a complete transformation of the concept of a "piano piece," compelling us to set aside any expectations rooted in conventional piano literature. It no longer revolves around the artist, performance, showcasing pianistic virtuosity, or social occasions; it is solely about sound, time, and space. Hence, I find it impossible to incorporate "For Bunita Marcus" into my regular concert programs. Such an experience seems best suited for New Music festivals, where it likely encourages a different, more open-minded listening approach, or for recordings. Even traditional concertgoers may find it challenging to engage with the experience Feldman offers.
Nonetheless, it stands as an immense gift, an invitation to step into an alternate reality, to wander through spaces without walls, witnessing the impossible swing of a four-dimensional pendulum while existing in a void where sound alone can thrive and move inexplicably.