Sit at your piano with your left hand at the keyboard’s very bottom and your right hand at the very top, fingers stretched out in arduous chords, and hammer away in rapid irregular rhythms. That gives you an idea of what Xenakis’ piano music demands of Aki Takahashi, who is very much up to the task. Evryali is a diabolical endurance test, but also tremendously engaging in its toccata-like perambulation of the keyboard. Takahashi conjures a colorful dynamic range in Herma, a piece commissioned by the pianist’s brother Yuji, and in the strange A.r. (Hommage à Ravel) which bears only a slight resemblance to Ravel in its imaginative sequences of held chords. Violinist Jane Peters matches Takahashi’s formidable energy for the dazzling wild ride of Dikhthas (“dual” in Greek), and Palimsest’s polyrhythms become razor-sharp in Takahashi’s version with The Society for New Music. Even the bizarre liner notes (“In the middle section, chains of sixty-four-notes and dyads in both hands cause a condensation”) can’t compare with the opacity of Xenakis’ own explanations of his music that involve sieve theory, Brownian movements, and hyperbolic-cosine law. Unless you’re into higher math, sit back (or bolt upright) and enjoy this brilliant album.
