There are many beautiful sounding instruments in the world–the violin, cello, hang drum, flute, etc–but the guitar and the piano are almost certainly among the most versatile and beautiful of them all. A great player can make them sing in a language just barely beyond your memory, like something you knew as a child before you learned to speak the words of mere men.
Cheryl Amelang is a master pianist. I have had her latest CD, Refuge, for over six months, meaning to write a review, but the words escaped me. For the most part, they still do. I lack the vocubulary to describe Cheryl’s technical skills, and can barely even tell you how I feel about her playing. While enjoying this music, I sometimes have the impression that I am listening to something natural and organic. It ebbs and flows, swirls and eddies, rises and falls in tides of half-familiar hymns and prayers. I want to say, “Yes! That music, that’s what I’ve been trying to say.” But I still can’t tell you the words. Like praying in tongues, you feel the meaning pouring out, and still have no idea what it is. There are liner notes with the original lyrics to match the tunes, but those aren’t the words I hear.
To tell you the truth, I really don’t know what else to say, except that you have to sit back, close your eyes, and listen for yourself.
Other completely different things:
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Not bad; not really my thing, though.
When it comes to pure instrumental music, I prefer this.
Holy smokes, it’s Steve Martin playing a banjo! He’s good, too. I like it, but there’s a time and place for everything. Well, almost everything. There’s no time and no place for