Dmitry Evgrafov - Comprehension of Light

A Closer Listen

Comprehension of Light was our pick of the season in Modern Composition, and a month later its nuances continue to be revealed.  This is a deep and diverse recording, thanks to the participation of Iskra String Quartet, William ‘Memotone’ Yates, Abul Mogard and Benoit Pîoulard.  More than this, its a testimony to the growth of Moscow’s Dmitry Evgrafov.  When he first appeared on the scene with the Lying On Your Shoulder EP, the teenager was seen as a prodigy pianist.  Evgrafov is now in his 20s, and while he’s made progress in each subsequent release, this is the first time we’ve been able to step back and appreciate him more as composer.  The guests are used wisely and sparingly, for depth and for punctuation, producing a variety of timbres; the piano doesn’t even appear until the fifth track.  When Evgrafov bends the ivories on the album’s only solo piece, he produces a similar spectrum: slow to fast, reflective to buoyant, restrained to unbridled and back again.  One can hear the distance traveled from his debut, not only in talent but in confidence.

Much of this confidence likely stems from the expanded tonal palette.  The synthesized strings of earlier works have been jettisoned in favor of organic strings, whose emotional range is wider.  Their impact is heightened by the fact that they don’t appear on every track.  Every time they return, they reach a deeper portion of the heart, and on the powerful, direct “A Chance to Change” they hit direct center, flowing like newly oxygenated blood.  “First Crop” continues in this vein, with major chords providing the first complete comprehension of light.  The album has been building to this revelation, moving from darkness and doubt to something higher and fuller, yet undefined.  But as much as we love the organic influence, we’re pleased to hear the rejuvenated subtlety of the electronics.  Whether foreboding (as they are in the early tracks) or enhancing (as they are in the digital-only “Through the Gloom”), they contribute a sense of disparate elements working together for the greater good.

Side B dances in glimmer.  One of the most beautiful images is found in the title  “Kintsukuroi”.  This is the latest Japanese concept to gain Western traction, following wabi-sabi, mono no aware and others.  The word refers to the fixing of pottery cracks with liquid gold, highlighting the brokenness as beauty.  The wider implication is that given time, we can be proud of our scars, as they become integrated into the stories of our lives.  Comprehension of Light operates in this fashion, introducing itself as wounded, then struggling ~ and succeeding ~ to become whole.  The pain is not hidden, but shared; not glossed over, but highlighted as it passes through the fire on its way to redemption.  The serenity of Evgrafov’s piano at the center of “Rootedness” demonstrates this newfound lightness.  Now we understand the album’s cover art: dust, debris and detritus expelled by an expanding burst of warmth and light.  (Richard Allen)

Available here

Mon Oct 02 00:01:55 GMT 2017

The Quietus

It can be difficult to appreciate the benefits of simply spending time with a record. The desire to feel on top of everything can lead to us engaging with nothing; but sometimes you’re caught out by a record, bowled over in fact, and reminded that paying proper undivided attention to music is (actually, must be) a revelatory, luxurious experience. Comprehension of Light makes this happen. It is a work of extraordinary power and insight; one that has the patience of Job, one that only reveals its true power after a few listens.

In trying to describe just what is so good about this LP, a hamfisted metaphor suggests itself; one in part suggested by Evgrafov’s nationality. Apologies for that, of course. But in sensing the record’s steely purpose and power, I can’t help thinking of this record as a sonic take on Tatlin's Tower, the St Petersburg constructivist tower that was never built: it’s a twin helix of sound and composition, bravura display of samples and orchestrated pieces that spiral up into the sunlit uplands.

And, like Tatlin’s construction, what is really marvellous about Comprehension of Light is its old-fashioned, enervating sense of rigour. There is a feeling that nothing is left to chance. And there is also (and a factor that is far more rewarding), a sense that some musical passages were the result of spur-of-the-moment decisions or insights, or even gambles initiated by recording processes on other tracks.

This marriage of cognitive steel and will-o-the-wisp character is heard best in the extraordinary opening three tracks. They sidle up after one or two listens, showing themselves to be incredibly supple, possessing a monumental power and a feeling of existing beyond time. Noises whisper and rustle through opener ‘A Gleam’ like the wind through centuries-old grasslands, cementing a hunch we are listening to the prelude to something special. I found out via a recent tQ interview that the track was constructed from “choir samples [...] played back in a pine forest while standing about 30 metres deep into the woods”, which only increased the sense of off-the-cuff magic. If that wasn’t enough, second track ‘Tamas’ is an unnerving piece that slowly builds to a crescendo, only to dissolve and then build up for a second helping. Initially driven by a steady thunk (one that resembles the dripping of water or the tapping sound of a pickaxe in a mine), the track is fortified by sonorous brass parps and a build of midrange tonalities which unleash a powerful assault on the senses. The tension is extraordinary. Then we have the third in the sequence, ‘Ungrounded’, whose incredibly dextrous arrangements apply a much needed balm; they're like gossamer takes of the orchestra build-and-crash that introduces Klaus Schultze’s “krazy” kosmische LP, Irrlicht. The balance between what sounds like an elephant being deflated and the dolorous string passage could be terribly pretentious, but it isn’t.

There are some truly magnificent tracks elsewhere on the record, too; ones that almost defy description. If you are still standing past the midpoint (where you will have been shaken by the spectral beauty of ‘Through the Gloom’), you’ll need to be braced for yet more emotional punches. On the glorious ‘Kintsukuroi’ - a collaboration with Benoît Pioulard from Orcas - the gently unfolding open harmonies remind me of Aaron Copland. The radiant ‘Znanie’ - another collaboration, this time with the great Abul Mogard - is bathed in a 1970s afterglow; it basks in the heat off the tracks just after the Trans Europe Express has whistled past. Evgrafov’s own ‘Rootedness’ is a ghostly, restless ballroom lament that revels in contrast, with staccato endings and sonic trapdoors. This is essentially a battle between sun and moon, between piano and strings; both sections compete for the honour of wringing the most emotive power out of their allotted part. The ending is a bobby dazzler too: ‘Sattva’ is a murmuring, patient play of light on water, with bird song and a slow piano progression that somehow draws on, and overtakes, every alternative modern classical trope going.

This is a remarkable, invigorating record. A revelation. One that - unsurprisingly given its narrative arc - feels as if it’s bathed in light. Driven by the idea of light. Every head should own it.

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Tue Oct 17 15:20:11 GMT 2017