Bulgarian-born pianist Kristina Marinova harnesses the healing powers of emotional melodies on LOVES ME NOT, a curated selection of soulful classical piano pieces spanning three centuries, from Bach to Rachmaninoff. Within the album’s tracklist lies an impressive range of works and composers: Gluck, Schubert, Chopin, Liszt, Debussy, Scriabin, Tarrega and Satie, to name a few. The compositions are united by their melancholic themes (often sparked by biographical calamity), but like an acorn that falls from the crown of a tree, they bear within themselves a seed of hope, a new beginning.

American-Australian harpist Emily Granger made an indelible impression with her solo debut recording, In Transit. She follows up with Something Like This, a beautiful collaboration with flautist Sally Walker, featuring original music for flute and harp alongside adaptations and arrangements for the instrumental combination. Woven among classics by J.S. Bach and Mozart are works by living composers including Australians Elena Kats-Chernin, Sally Greenaway, Lachlan Skipworth and Jessica Wells, and indigenous composer Christopher Sainsbury. 20th century works by Jacques Ibert and Witold Lutoslawski are juxtaposed with Erik Satie’s timeless Gymnopédies.

REVIEWS:

Something Like This is a beautifully programmed collection of well-known works performed in sumptuous style and ensemble by Walker and harpist Emily Granger.

In a superbly executed Bach Sonata in G Minor, Granger shines with sprightly and impeccable technique. As well, the slow movement from Mozart’s Concerto for flute and harp does not disappoint as one of the loveliest sounds you’ll hear. That’s until two Gymnopedies by Erik Satie, their simplicity and floaty-ness able to transport us to another realm entirely. 

[In] the fervently dramatic Three Fragments by Witold Lutoslawski. Walker’s tone is rich and indulgent, almost weeping in its expressiveness with Granger’s style full of colorful nuance, just as the music requires—its original intent was to accompany a play. Similarly, Jessica Well’s delightful Sati—Sanskrit for mindfulness—offers the duo room to experiment with shadings of hue, phrasing and musical line, sometimes at peace, other times menacing. Beginning mindfully serene, the piece explodes to an ecstatic reverie of sonorities. 

For just sheer beauty of line and tone, the three short Poems by Sally Greenway are astonishing miniatures. You dare not breathe in order not to miss a thing. The inspiration comes from the poem Roses du Soir by Pierre Louÿs which describes lovers finding a secret spot in the forest where a magical rose bush grows. Walker and Granger create a sound as if one instrument with delicate passion. This sensibility appears again in Christopher Sainsbury’s Djagamara, a work written to honor the life of a young indigenous friend.

-- The Harp Column