Time
                      Gallery could essentially
                      be called a chamber symphony. The movements are cyclical
                      in their constant repetition of phrases, especially in
                      the second movement. The piece appears to be a representation
                      of the development of the clock, from canonical bells to
                      mechanization, to the atomic clock, to time perceived in
                      retrospect. The first movement goes off with the startlement
                      of a clock that has lost a spring, with whirrings and bells,
                      then settles in to the overall sound and feel of a traditional
                      chamber piece. The somewhat exotic scoring of the piece
                      makes itself evident — those are cowbells halfway
                      through that meditative section — as one listens to the
                      piece. 
                
 
                
                
                
                
The
                    second movement has four named sections, beginning with a
                    confusion of clocks that breaks into a scherzo-like piece
                    that busies itself with its fast tempo before moving on to
                    the next with an uneasy descending chromatic motif. What
                    follows is a rather fast section that culminates in a constantly-repeating
                    figure that gradually falls apart into dissonance and disorganization.
                    After a blow to the drum, we are back to the familiar motif
                    heard earlier. The third movement, entitled Pulse: the
                    feeling that happens, is another fast-paced scherzo-like
                    movement. The fourth movement (Overtime: Memory Sings)
                    again begins with a clocklike introduction. Chimes fade in,
                    then the rasping deep ticking of a clock that multiplies
                    over the beating of a heart. This is a movement of quiet
                    tension that the string parts build on while the piano maintains
                    an insistent tone in the left hand to carry the time motif.
                    The composer, in his notes that accompany this recording,
                    states that this movement calls up the “imagination of an
                    ideal mind remembering the previous movements, reinventing
                    the past”. It has the meditativeness of the first movement
                    and is rather melancholic and wistful. As the parts fade,
                    what is left is a pianissimo held A, on which the
                    piece ends.
                
 
                
The Protean
                      Fantasy of 1993, scored for violin and piano, begins
                      with a bright exclamation before moving into a lyrical
                      segment that forms the basis for the variations that follow.
                      The immediate variation is a new side to the theme entirely,
                      presented as a scherzo with the violin intoning the theme
                      over the manic piano. An affecting and excitingly interesting
                      piece.
                
 
                
The Ariel
                      Fantasy is a perpetuum mobile scherzo, which
                      Moravec mentions is the prototype of the Tempest Fantasy’s
                      first movement, which is available on Arabesque Records
                      (Z6791). All of the pieces here presented are exceedingly
                      well recorded with, especially at the beginning, - and
                      perhaps this is with intent - the percussion a bit too
                      far forward. Naxos again remains highly consistent with
                      its well-produced recordings of new and unfamiliar repertoire.
                      Well-recorded, well-performed, this is an interesting and
                      engaging program.
                
 
                
David Blomenberg                
                
see also review by Dominy Clements