May '89 and August '92, these fifty sections of three-line stanza/chords
continue Coolidge's fast-forward drive to explore how sheets of sound
can be made to echo -- literally to REGISTER (PEOPLE IN ALL)--thought
. . . Off where
nerves rattle and glance interminable, the
sphere of the bygone
syllable. Lit as if sound, a cascade to
"Music is another of Coolidge's grammars, which is to say that music provides
the rules -- structure, the division of time, and the organization of
pitch -- that underpin the work. There are playful allusions and riffings:
'Monk that took the blues on upon the surpassing swing/ but doesn't understand
when someone puts them back in a bag.' Jazz with Schoenburg & CAge
inflections: 'The orange piano turns lemon to the players of trained values.'
Witty and polysonic."
-- Susan Smith Nash