Green (SFX Version)

Albumbeschreibung

While it seems quiet and seemingly unambitious to a fault, ambient music is slyly purposeful. Forcing concentration, it invites the uninitiated to become active listeners, alive to the nuances and shifting textures and moods of this often misunderstood and easily dismissed musical form. 

Unknown in the world outside his native Japan, Hiroshi Yoshimura was a prolific and multi-layered creative force. He composed delicate, tranquil music for both public endeavors, like museums, subways and an airport, as well as more commercial ventures like fashion shows and cosmetics manufacturers. In both cases the effect was the same—a fresh, serene way of listening and perhaps, if truly taken to heart, a more holistic and interconnected way of looking at and being in the world. In the original liner notes to Green, Yoshimura spoke of portraying the "comfortable scenery of the natural cycle" and "music that makes you relax … taking a bath with your mind and body completely exposed." An album length rumination that is widely considered to be one of Yoshimura's masterpieces (along with 1982's Music for Nine Postcards), Green may be his finest realization of these aspirations. With a delicate, nursery rhyme-like twinkling musical figure played on Fender Rhodes, and a deeper, more string-like descending progression of notes sliding in and out as counterpoint, the title track calmly trickles on, at times skipping a beat or two for emphasis, a classic example of Yoshimura at his very best.

Yoshimura, who died in 2003, was an absolute master at using space and silence, two of music's most fundamental elements. While the opener, "Creek" utilizes a rapid, rhythmic, almost percussive note pattern, the rest of the album, all of which solely features keyboards, opens and closes quietly, often fading up from silence after a longish break between tracks. Further demonstrating the power of sound, each song title's English translation has a double "ee" sound which, when read in order, imparts a soothing, elongated lyricism. © Robert Baird/Qobuz