Patrick Shiroishi - Glass House

Avant Music News

A Closer Listen

Patrick Shiroishi is not only a multi-instrumentalist, but a multi-genre composer.  Glass House extends his talents even further, to the world of dance.  The album is the score to a theatre piece from Volta Collective, directed by Mamie Green.  From the snippets we’ve seen and the reviews we’ve read, the live presentation is sensual, original and audacious.  One of our favorite ideas: throwing a coin into a fountain occupied by two dancers.  As a sweet bonus, Green also choreographed the album’s first video, “Procession,” seen below.

Leave behind any assumptions you may have about a Shiroishi album, save for the saxophone, which makes only sparing appearances.  The highlight is the variety of tones, which notches perfectly with Green’s vision.  The record’s entire first side is filled by a single piece, “memories (i am in the vortex)”, which begins with the sound of a ticking clock, the hush of the sea and a low, growing drone.  The light hammering sounds like footsteps, or the other way around; a door slams.  Before the first piano note lands, the mind is already making associations, especially between the clock, the title and the tide.  Soon other objects rattle about, like the detritus of a life.  Rain falls on tin.  Text messages whoosh back and forth.  A kitchen table is cleared while planes pass overhead.  And then the sounds of the great outdoors: children, laughter, birds, thunder.  In the closing minute, a “classic” phone continues to ring, unanswered.  Are these memories as well, or are events unfolding in real time?  One can only imagine what is transpiring on stage.

Side B begins with conversation, as if in a lobby prior to a performance.  A whistle blows, a call to attention.  The bassist begins to play, joined quickly by the drummer and pianist.  Does the crowd care?  The whistle blows again; they continue to talk.  And then the saxophone; if one can’t silence the crowd, one can at least drown them out.  For those dancing at home, this is the most accessible piece, an invitation to move to the groove.  A mid-piece percussion breakdown is especially funky, and damn the crowd, they’re still talking.  In this contrast, one hears the frustration of artists in multiple fields, perhaps even those of Adele, who has complained not only about fans recording concerts, but throwing cellphones and cremains on stage.

All of this is wiped away in “the procession,” lost in the peace of the sea.  There is reverence here; there is love.  The first half is pure piano; the second is edified by orchestral chords.  As the piano’s pace increases, so does the sense of yearning for something higher, purer.  But which way will the protagonists turn?

The closing piece presents the emotional battle in full fray.  A segment of tentative certainty (2:35-3:53) doesn’t last.  The percussion imitates the aforementioned clock, then slows and stops.  A choir starts to warm up, then falls silent as well.  The notes turn dissonant.  In the glass house, someone has thrown a stone.  It’s up to the orchestra to sort things out, and they do, ending on a triumphant note.  Yet even this is fragile:  a satisfying, yet teetering conclusion.  (Richard Allen)