Dustin O’Halloran Lumiere
In 2010, Dustin O’Halloran made the heads of contemporary classical fans, piano aficionados, and beautiful music lovers in general turn in awe and bow in appreciation for his breathtaking live album Vorleben. Almost ten months later, the solo piano effort of epic emotional effect and dream inducing melodies is being featured on experimental music websites’ year end lists everywhere, including here at Fluid Radio, and now, as if to reserve his place in next year’s lists he presents us with Lumiere. Lumiere is an expansion of the sound Dustin O’Halloran had established in his first two albums, and gives the listener deeper insight into his abilities as a composer. With the strings of New York’s ACME ensemble, Stars of the Lid’s Adam Wiltzie’s guitar, the violin of Peter Broderick and the mixing abilities of Jóhann Johannsson all aiding in making O’Halloran’s compositions come to life, this is a work of the highest order. Forty three minutes of expansive, utterly flawless music. The piano is still there; oh it’s still there, smack dab at the center of almost every movement. Fading in and out at the exact right moments and accented by the other instruments’ performances. That’s not to say that the other instruments are only there to as supporting cast, not at all, but their presence makes the piano shine in all
its glory. Every note is made more significant and each song all the more fuller. Take “We Move Lightly” for example, at heart it is a simple piano melody, moving as naturally and briskly as possible; a projection of O’Halloran state of mind at a given point in time. Nothing is forced or over complicated yet the song has a unique richness to it. The main reason behind that lies in the highly intelligent placement of the string swells, their entrance and their subtlety. On listening to it, one can’t imagine it without these added elements, the texture they add can’t be compromised. The moods on the album vary yet in a way all have a cold, reflective feel to them. “A Great Divide’s” subtle electronics in the beginning introduce us to that feeling, with windswept soundscapes surrounding the scattered piano notes and introducing the mournful violin section which gains in momentum and ushers the return of the piano again to put the finishing touches along with the processed background noises. “Opus 44” then enters as if to narrate the previous track and provide closure. That sequence by which closure is given aer each track, be it joyful or sad, gels the album together until its dying moments. One can’t label any of the pieces as non essential or remotely negligible. Each song has its character and has its spine chilling
moments bringing to memory great albums of the genre such as Eluvium’s Copia, Max Richter’s Memory House and Peter Broderick’s Float. Where each song on the album might seem unrelated to that preceding or following it, but on further listens it becomes clearer and clearer that had these same tracks been placed in any different order the logic of the album would have made less sense or felt incomplete. As a reviewer, it’s my job to find blemishes in an album, to criticize the weaknesses I find most obvious and hope it comes as constructive as possible. Very few albums will appear as flawless, and an album that hasn’t the slightest defect in it is probably (hopefully) never going to be made. Lumiere has tested me in doing so; it has made my life harder for the past three weeks or so, listening to it over and over again to find that fateful downfall. Surely it can be said that the album doesn’t cross any established boundaries or that more surprises would have helped it standout that tiny bit more. Then again, what’s wrong with playing it a bit safe when the result is as fantastic as this? One weakness perhaps? It should have been longer! - Mohammed Ashraf