I wrote this piece in August, for Ishmael Wallace.
This piece is about resonance, timbre, and action.
Resonance is how we hear space and what is in space. It implies an interior space - the space of a room, the space inside the piano, the space inside yourself. It is also the sound of response - when the piano’s pedal is down, the other strings are allowed to respond, aloud, to the strings of the note played.
I think the piano’s timbre has a special capacity to evoke the kind of indirect, mid-afternoon, daylight that enters rooms in the city, and to convey a feeling of bleakness. For me this particular bleakness includes a feeling of self-possession in the face of difficulty, but almost requires that interior, that daylight. I’ve been thinking about how the stability of space enables us to face adversity, but in our city now we are allowing space and stability to be taken away from more and more people, through foreclosures, evictions, and gentrification.
I think the piano’s timbre has a special capacity to evoke the sweetness that is an antidote to the bleakness. I am not proposing the sweetness as a solution, only as a help to us in organizing a systemic solution. The sweetness of love and being loved. The sweetness of touching each other.
The piano has a special capacity to transmit touch - you can hear how Ishmael touches the piano.
The piece includes a musical quotation, a hymn, written in 1615, published in the Bay Psalm Book, in Boston in 1698, which is around the time we started displacing people, and gentrifying. The words of the hymn are, I said I will look to my ways, for fear I should go wrong: I will take heed all times that I offend not with my tongue.