This is a sumptuous, relaxed, languorous CD of nine spare - yet 
                also explosive - Japanese contemporary pieces for piano. It is 
                as much an act of love as it is of exposition of new music. The 
                composers have been chosen by Hiroaki Takenouchi to represent 
                work from that country of the last half century or so. They reveal 
                an intensity with - and, really, a sort of authority over 
                - melody, texture, rhythm and what the instrument can do. This 
                intensity, this sense of command, can amaze, if we enter this 
                sound-world as receptive listeners.
                
                
"Cosmos Haptic" takes its title 
                  from the piece of that name by Joji Yuasa. It represents 
                  a highly satisfying chronological survey stretching from the 
                  piece by Yuasa to Fujikura's moromoro, written within 
                  the last five years. Nine pieces in all; and at the same time 
                  a recital of real depth and interpretative strength.
                
                
This time-based approach is deliberate. 
                  There's little or no feeling on Takenouchi's part of anything 
                  to 'prove' about the ability of practitioners of a Japanese 
                  'Western' musical tradition to hold their own. Nevertheless, 
                  if you were sceptical about, or new to, this repertoire, this 
                  excellent CD ought to go a long way towards convincing you: 
                  here is beautiful, accomplished and truly delightful music. 
                  After all, the longest work on this rather generous CD is Les 
                  yeux clos II by Takemitsu.
                
                
Cosmos Haptic makes an interesting point. It's Yuasa's 
                  conscious rejection of twelve-tone technique as being suitable 
                  only to a straight Western tradition. There is still a sense 
                  of unfolding, but the thrust is more explicitly 'directed', 
                  'intentional' - hence the name. 'Haptic' implies an immediate, 
                  conscious manipulation.
                
                
The Takemitsu piece is one of the last the 
                  composer wrote for solo piano; he didn't write many such anyway. 
                  And it's a gem. Right at the centre of the spirit of the works 
                  on this CD, it moves as decisively as it does stealthily. Miyoshi's 
                  and Nodaïra's pieces are in contrast with what comes immediately 
                  before and with Hosokawa's "Haiku", which 
                  follows it, in that they have more pace, more evident animation. 
                  The "Haiku" homage to Boulez shares some of 
                  the latter's sound-world: clusters, vertical groupings, a love 
                  of sound for sound's sake, sporadic interjections which serve 
                  to imply the melodic lines, rather than define them in 
                  linear fashion. Here Takenouchi is at his poetic best. 
                  Pauses, attacks, holding of notes - such techniques seem aimed 
                  at stretching the limits of pianism, without self-consciousness. 
                  In fact they plunge us right into the essence of best practice 
                  and great creativity for the instrument.
                
                
Harada's, the longest work on this CD, is 
                  musician's music. It is concerned again with contrasts - those 
                  between the issues when performing heavily textured music, and 
                  the sparser, slimmer solo instrumental focus. Again, Takenouchi 
                  works emphatically with the composer's intentions. He has no 
                  interest in virtuosity - despite that concern of Harada's.
                
                
              
Tsurumi's Toy 2 looks as though it'd 
                be the most experimental of the works here. It uses computer-generated 
                material and even quotes from Borodin. Yet it aims at a cohesiveness 
                that perhaps doesn't quite come off - though through no fault 
                of Takenouchi's. His expert playing makes for an interesting experience; 
                but sounds are maybe just a little too forced,  too random, too 
                clever for the good of the whole. 
              
                
Fujikura's moromoro (a theatrical 
                  comedic battle) again contrasts calm with energy. By design, 
                  Fujikura adapted his original ideas - inspired by the sculpture 
                  of Tomoya Yamaguchi - to the wishes of the pianist, Tomoko Mukaiyama. 
                  The composer explains the process in his short entry in what 
                  could usefully have been a much longer booklet. moromoro 
                  is thus sedate and subdued for its first three quarters; then 
                  fast and furious to the end.
                
                
This is emphatically and unashamedly modern, 
                  at times dissonant and aggressively uncompromising playing of 
                  honest, crystalline music. Takenouchi (just 30 years old) is 
                  based in London, where he studied with the late Yonty Solomon. 
                  He will go far. His sureness of touch and dramatically clear 
                  and clean insight are ideally suited to this music and to the 
                  world it inhabits. For something new, different, yet essentially 
                  full of integrity, beauty and creativity, this CD is well worth 
                  a look.
                
                
Mark Sealey