Kristján Martinsson: 1035
TRPTK

The enigmatically titled 1035 turns out to be not so enigmatic after all. It's derived from Johann Sebastian Bach's Flute Sonata in E major, BWV 1035, a work so close to Kristján Martinsson's heart, the Icelandic composer, pianist, and flutist decided to crafted an entire work around it. His arrangements of the original work's movements are interspersed amongst eleven of his own pieces, ostensibly compositions and improvisations inspired by the baroque sonata. In a fascinating move, he decided to perform the material on a Keybird, a compact upright piano whose setup includes MIDI capabilities that allowed him to play two analog synthesizers directly through the instrument. That facilitated the blossoming of a whole range of timbral possibilities when the acoustic sonorities of the piano could be augmented by the warm electronic textures of the synthesizers. To Martinsson's credit, the renderings were executed subtly, such that the collective sound registers as nuanced rather than vulgar.

The Keybird is aptly named, given that it produces a pretty, delicate sound that sings as sweetly as a songbird—even if the effect is in part attributable to the synthesizer textures that accompany it. There are moments when Martinsson's tinting of the instrument's sound gives it the character of an electric piano (during the gentle “Efasemdarleikur,” for example); there are also places where the music takes on an ambient character, specifically when the synthesizer textures envelop the piano as they do during “Faðmlag,” “Bless Less,” and the sonata's second movement.

The opening two parts are particularly beautiful, the first, "Adagio ma non tanto,” for the regal dignity of Bach's music, and the second, Martinsson's “Friður bræður,” for the bewitching swoon of its haunting melodic progressions. A jazzy feel seeps into some parts when he ruminates freely and lets his muse take him where it will (“Impromptu, Op. 2 No. 4” and, again, “Efasemdarleikur”); other parts exude a tenderness that makes them as memorable (“Impromptu, Op. 2 No. 1”). A passage or two during "Hringur 328” even suggests some degree of kinship between Martinsson and fellow pianists Nils Frahm, Ólafur Arnalds, and Akira Kosemura.

Martinsson plays with authority throughout and impresses as someone as comfortable adhering to charts as extemporizing. He's also not afraid to stray from the score, as shown by the assured spontaneity he brings to his rendition of the sonata's “Allegro” movement and his bold interjections during its “Siciliano” part. Regardless of the direction pursued and approach adopted, the music never loses its pretty lustre. It certainly doesn't hurt that the performance was laid down at the thirteenth-century Westerkerk in Enkhuizen, a beautiful medieval church in the Netherlands whose acoustics amplify the resonance of each note and chord. Couple that with TRPTK's customary attention to sound quality and the result is a recording that captivates on both musical and production terms.

June 2025