Pianist and composer
William Bland is at the time of this
recording about two-thirds of the way
through a projected cycle of twenty-four
piano sonatas, one in each of the major
and minor keys. The choice of using
the major and minor tonalities is the
result of the composer’s decision to
move away from the free atonality prevalent
in the music of the 1960s and 1970s.
The result is music reliant on styles
of the past, perfected by other composers
and is only successful to a slight degree.
The opening piano sonata
is a pastiche of styles ranging from
Joplin’s classic rags to faux Rachmaninov
to the new age meanderings of pianists
like David Lanz and Jim Brickman. Although
the work starts off well enough, there
is nothing so fresh here that would
make one want to eschew the originals.
The watered-down Joplin and the abrupt
and disjunctive shifts in style are
jarring to the ear, and become quickly
tiresome. Bland as a pianist favors
a blurry, overly-pedaled sound, further
causing a grate on the ear. Combine
all of these quirks with the composer’s
tendency to write only accompanied melodies
- pleasant as they may be - and totally
to ignore the inner voices and you have
some very long and cumbersome pieces.
The three shorter works
that split the two substantial sonatas
are so reminiscent of new-age elevator
music that one wonders how they got
onto a label like Bridge and stayed
shy of companies such as Narada or Windham
Hill. While none of the works are in
the least bit offensive, they are nondescript
enough to be quickly forgettable.
I found the Sonata
No. 14 to be a bit of an improvement
over the first work, but again, the
lack of formal structure, the tendency
to note-spin and the random fits of
right-hand-only virtuosity wore me down
by the middle of the piece. These works
seem to me to be throw-backs to the
grandiose romantic music of the late
nineteenth century. Sadly, there is
nothing left in that idiom to say.
Kevin Sutton
for
details
William Bland (piano) 
