Ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus once said, "The only constant in life is change". The human experience is in constant flux, and we can't expect things to stay the same, no matter how much we want them to. Naturally, such a dilemma would inspire artists. This appears to be the case for Swedish pianist and composer Carl Liungman whose third album of neoclassical piano compositions, Change, explores themes of love, loss, and life's mysteries through nine pensive and emotionally driven solo piano pieces.
Liungman's excursions in classically leaning piano arrangements are embellished with New Age moods and textures. "Mother" opens the collection with a subtle grandiosity, with Liungman reigning in his propensity towards harrowing poignancy with a focus on dynamic intensity. "After" plays with strikes of deep and low notes that counter the unworried and enchanting lightness of most of the composition. "Final Days" looks to the bitter-sweet aspect of impermanence, with its title representing the closing of one chapter, and its musical motifs hinting at a peculiar appreciation of finality. "Hope" starts with minimal phrasings before escalating towards abundant patches of dramatic notes. This explicit narrative structure is an accurate representation of hope, a feeling which can come and go. There's forever a nuanced volumetric intensity to Liungman's playing, which ranges from soft sentimentality to forte expressions.
Elsewhere, "Wind In June" has a more optimistic air, its whimsical ostinatos giving way to more ruminative moods, though always communicating a fanciful message; like a leaf blowing in a summer wind, it seems unbothered by destination but fully committed to the beauty of the journey. "Father" dichotomizes "Mother" with a much more restrained and succinct approach, piano notes slowly cascade around a firm structure. "Survivor" has all the sophistication of Phillip Glass's Glassworks, with its environmental piano lines extracting a lot from a little. However, there's more emotion and heart than its esoteric counterparts, with romantic embellishments of notes in a flurry, like a lover who can't kiss you fast enough lest their emotions explode from the pressure.
"Peaceful" creates a feeling one would expect from such a title, but it doesn't concern a rudimentary type of peace, rather one pregnant with the resignation that change will alter even those moments we wish it didn't. The closing title track drives home the message of life's variations through a stirring, always beautiful, melody, the compounded atmosphere akin to particles flying around an accelerator, bouncing off each other to create heart-rendering energy. This song is one of the most memorable on the album and would be just as at home in the closing scene of a drama film as it would the headphones of a disoriented soul searching for tranquillity amidst the throws of life or even the environs of an upper-class dinner party. This pleasant and heartwarming music is universal.
The album ends with audience applause, revealing that, all along, this was a live performance, a striking revelation given the dearth of misplayed notes and richness of sound emanating from Liungman's Steinway grand piano.
Change by Carl Liungman is a spirited collection of solo piano pieces steeped in emotional intensity, but without being mawkish or self-indulgent. Expressions of hope, despair, and love are communicated via careful playing and thoughtful compositions that allow the listener to explore their own relationship with the fluctuating nature of life.