I didn't plan “Flicker and Fade”. It arrived as one image of smallness I couldn't put down and asked to be finished.
The electric piano does the thinking here; I only choose what to keep.
I hope it meets you somewhere quiet.
That's it.
How it's actually made: electric piano, close-mic'd, and everything unnecessary removed.
The room is part of the instrument; I record it as much as the electric piano.
Owed to Erik Satie, Claude Debussy, Ludovico's quiet school. The rest I took by accident.
Lately everything I write bends back toward little red ants.
I wrote it at the electric piano, mostly late, mostly by deleting.
Play it low. It was made low.
The first sketch for “Fragments of Dawn” was almost nothing: the sound of little red ants when no one is listening, held too long.
The electric piano does the thinking here; I only choose what to keep.
If it slowed you down for forty minutes, it did its job.
That's it.
Everything on “Evolving Shades” grows out of one thing: the idea of little red ants.
The electric piano found the shape before I did; I stayed out of the way.
I hope it meets you somewhere quiet.
little red ants, held as long as it will hold.
The electric piano carries everything here; there's nowhere for it to hide.
In the lineage of Erik Satie · Claude Debussy · Ludovico's quiet school · Federico Mompou · Harold Budd
Built on a single image — little red ants — and a philosophy of ordinary purposefulness.
Works in modern composition. One electric piano. Not much else.
Circles little red ants. Avoids the everyday. Releases quietly: “Evolving Shades”, “Flicker and Fade”, “Fragments of Dawn”, “Little Red Ants”, “Reaching”.
