Elizabeth Brown: Mirage

The music of Elizabeth Brown (b. 1953) revels in paradox, but of a subtle kind. The strangeness of the music sneaks up on you; its liquid, mellifluous quality masks a far more radical stance. Seemingly irreconcilable instrumental timbres coexist peaceably: shakuhachi with string quartet, theremin with guitar, Partch instruments with theremin. The music is blessed with an old-fashioned gift for clear and singable melody . . . except for the fact that the tune keeps bending and melting. There is a genuine romantic sensibility, yet it exists in a soundworld that can only be avant-garde. But the avant-gardisme is in turn presented within a sensibility that is tender, sweet, and toylike. In short it expresses a genuine innocence, something we encounter far too rarely in an era of postmodern irony. Brown’s musical world is one of dreamlike sounds, images, textures, colors, and harmonies. One sees the literature of the past, especially the romantic era, transformed through its colored filter. One also glimpses a musical future that is fresh and imaginative, but never afraid of beauty, nor of humane warmth.