Office Park
A kind of decayed nature documentary music, shot through here and there by a macabre piano concerto.
A kind of decayed nature documentary music, shot through here and there by a macabre piano concerto.
Sequences seem to stand outside of music. They can be efficiently characterized as the relationship between any two of the chords they contain. As patterns, they do not move through harmonic space, but rather occupy all possible places within it at once. Faceless, they stretch to infinity.
This piece began as a field of major- and minor-seventh chord sequences, allowed to grow on their own according to some simple probabilities. Amongst them, I have tried to find, or cultivate, a kind of decayed nature documentary music, shot through here and there by a macabre piano concerto.
In their midst, I have built a little office: I have voiced chords and imposed rhythms; I have stretched and compressed harmonies; I have orchestrated. Always, though, there is a sense that this field precedes us and the music we make.