Echoes of Love
Moonlight Shadows
Taylor’s Theme
Elysian Dreams
Beyond
Winter’s Heart
Ka Nalu
Touch of Her
A Great Expectation
Out of Solitude
A Distant Time
Andrew James Johnson (piano)
No recording details
PRIVATE
[45:31]
British pianist and composer Andrew James Johnson is one of the latest
musicians to have released a solo album devoted exclusively to his own
music. Whether it’s Geoff Eales, a jazz musician of electric heritage, or a
less specialised practitioner, these personal odysseys are invariably
revealing of the artist’s musical personality even if – as in the case of
this latest disc – there are no notes to support the music-making.
Winter’s Heart
is an eleven-track album cast in visual imagery of a wintry landscape. This
is no Schubertian terrain though, as the music cleaves closer to the sphere
of romantic rumination in which treble tracery is supported by a relatively
straightforward left-hand harmonic underpin. Songs of dreamland, love and
loss abound. Echoes of Love offers such a compound conveyed with
great richness of articulation whilst the left hand harmony steps ofMoonlight Shadows are accompanied by lyric curlicues in the right. Taylor’s Theme seems to feature a cello obbligato – the lack of
any documentation is doubly frustrating at such moments - whilst Elysian Dreams offers music that is not dissimilar to, but far
more athletic than, that of Ludovico Einaudi.
Johnson manages to evoke texture attractively and his themes are warmly
conceived. The means aren’t too varied – the procedures are very similar –
but when he cuts loose a little, as he does in Ka Nalu, the
results are decidedly affirmative and generate an exultant feel. Sometimes
it seems to me he can overdo the left hand accenting and pointing. Severe
critics would want some – any – dissonance. But set against that Johnson
writes winning themes, evokes a sense of generalised place, and can draw on
filmic-scenic elements in a quasi-improvisational way that proves most
attractive to those who can free themselves of -isms, affiliations and the
stylistic cul-de-sac.
Jonathan Woolf