Glint

Redefining the classical saxophone at every turn, Timothy McAllister, known for his “virtuoso artistry” (Saxophone Journal), “flamboyant” playing (Los Angeles Times), and “impeccable musicianship” (American Record Guide), takes a break from the trail-blazing PRISM Quartet to take us on a wild (solo) ride that covers vast terrain from minimalism to spectralism, chamber music to electronic music.

GLINT takes its inspiration from Roshanne Etezady’s title work, highlighting a gleaming sound world punctuated by hard, shiny textures and sparkling sonorities meant to stimulate and fascinate. The young iconoclast Caleb Burhans of Alarm Will Sound fame starts things off with a bang, as McAllister darts through a minimalist mine field inspired by Conrad Marca-Relli’s kinetic, abstract painting, Black Rock. Kristin Kuster elicits images of an underwater world where the bizarre meets the sublime in the 2004 composition, Jellyfish, commissioned by McAllister and the brilliant pianist Lucia Unrau. Kati Agócs proves Hector Berlioz’s assertion correct that the saxophone most emulates the human voice in her single-movement rhapsody, As Biddeth Thy Tongue, displaying gradients of nuance rarely heard from Adolphe Sax’s unwieldy invention. Fellow single-reed dynamo Robert Spring joins in on the action in a pair of awe-inspiring alto saxophone/clarinet duets: Gregory Wanamaker’s Duo Sonata and Etezady’s Glint.

These two pieces stretch the upper sonic limits, leave the listener gasping for air with endless circular breathing, and display a blitzkrieg of notes only the most daring of performers would attempt. Daniel Asia’s contribution spans over twenty-five years, from its origins in a small solo oboe work to a blooming musical masterpiece—for oboe or saxophone—that mirrors developments in the composer’s language, and reflects upon a life-long friendship with the legendary Alex Klein. At the heart of Philippe Hurel’s spectralist tour de force, OPCIT, lie formal practices that blur psycho-acoustics, computer music, and the conceptual nature of sound itself. The converging of intermittent threads of polyphonic structures into a single, monodic voice gives new meaning to the word virtuosity—and leaves us delightfully exhausted. RISE by Peter Terry implies multiple meanings, but none more than the composer’s own submission: “to uplift oneself to meet a demand or challenge.” Alto saxophone and piano take on a tape part seemingly spinning out of control while creating a hybrid sonority that, ultimately, wears itself out like a “dangerously overloaded machine”. With each mounting work on this hard-edged disc, the compositions and performances—indeed—meet each challenge and take us on a transcendent journey that glistens like gold.