this was posted at bearseatpeople.com a while back.
now, i bring it here.
Max Richter – ‘The Blue Notebooks’
When I was a child, one of my favorite pastimes during the waning months of the year was watching the seasons change. My grandparents resided on a few acres of beautiful farmland upstate and my family used to visit several times a year; Mom always called it a chance to ‘refill our batteries’, a phrase that was understandably confusing for a young child. Oh the questions that flowed around my mind! “Where are my batteries??”, “What if they die before I get the chance to recharge them? Will I be able to move or speak without them?”, “Do I ever have to replace them?” Those are just some examples of worries I once had. The innocence of a youngster is a magical thing.
These adventures to the farm were wonderful for me and while I was sure to make the most of them each time they occurred (after all, I had to make sure my batteries were good and charged, I didn’t want to run out at a key moment during the year – like an important playground kickball game, or something equally as exciting), I loved our autumn visits the most. There was an old, wooden swing tucked away in the Eastern corner of the farm that seemed to be strategically placed in order to maximize the surrounding beauty that the swing’s occupants got to witness. From that swing, I had a great view of both the lake I loved swimming in during the warm summer months and the nearby woods I ventured into every once in a while when I built up the nerve. During these fall trips though, I rarely felt the urge to explore those woods or try to convince my parents that, in fact, it was not too cold to swim; instead I was perfectly content sitting in the swing, watching the breeze catch the weary leaves in it’s grasp. As if with a million tiny hands, the wind would pluck the leaves from their home up in the trees to take them on their last journey before they would fall to the same earth from which they once were born. A journey I may not have completely understood the logistics of at the time, but was awed and touched by all the same. There was a beauty in this yearly cycle that I could not put wrap my head around, but appreciated it more then I can begin to share with you.
When I listen to Max Richter’s ‘The Blue Notebooks’ album, I’m immediately transported back to that farm, that swing, that season, that beauty. Gorgous and understated, this album is a must have for any readers who have an appreciation for beautiful, emotional, and relaxing neo-classical music. Close your eyes, and imagine yourself on that old, rickety swing on a brisk November day. Allow yourself to feel the cool breeze against your face and hear it as it slowly, strategically makes it’s way through the treetops..rustling the branches and threatening to take any remaining inhabitants along on it’s slow march towards a barren winter. As the melodies held within these strings and these piano keys rise and fall, so too does your chest as you breathe in the cool air and you find yourself surprised by the warmth that can be found in melancholy. Richter’s inclusion of traces of minimalist electronic ambience is impactful as well, at times flushing out an already lush soundscape, and at others giving the music the slight hints of levity at the perfect moments. Allow yourself to get lost in the music. Allow it to be a soundtrack to a calm moment or the instigator of a peaceful dream..I believe that’s what music such as this was created for. Really listen. Hear how the spoken word passages from the pages of Kafka and Milosz accentuate the music. Hear the story Richter is telling you; the story he is telling us. Allow yourself to get lost in the music because sometimes, that’s the best way to find yourself.
My name is Benjamin Miller, and I love this music.
I hope you decide to give the record a chance.
It’s worth it.
