An imprint that offers cerebral yet sensorily engaging releases is rather uncommon. Aural Terrains does exactly that, regularly presenting programs with multiple points of interest. They may not always be within the reach of immediate fulfilment, but the angles of observation and the cues for in-depth study of the material are more than enough for yours truly. On the disc under review here, clarinet virtuoso Liam Hockley tackles challenging scores for basset horn, composed by three renowned representatives of the Romanian avant-garde: Ana-Maria Avram, Iancu Dumitrescu, Horațiu Rădulescu. In the midst of them stands an excellent piece by label honcho Thanos Chrysakis.

At this point, let me introduce a description of the basset horn by none other than George Bernard Shaw (aka Corno di Bassetto during his stint as music critic), in turn quoted by Donal Henahan in a New York Times article dated 1983: "It is a wretched instrument, now completely snuffed out for general use by the bass clarinet. It would be forgotten and unplayed if it were not that Mozart has scored for it in his Requiem, evidently because its peculiar watery melancholy, and the total absence of any richness or passion in its tone, is just the thing for a funeral". Assuming that this reviewer's opinion about Mozart as the greatest composer ever of cell phone ringtones is quite high, it is funny to compare the aural blindness of selected members of vintage intelligentsia to the effective ability of evolved composers to get the most out of a given instrument.

Avram's "Penumbra" (originally intended for clarinet/bass clarinet) and Dumitrescu's "Aura" (again, for bass clarinet in the initial form) highlight Hockley's expertise as a soloist. The possibilities of the basset horn and those of a musician willing to plumb its expressive depths are equally delineated in both pieces, typified by severely dissonant phraseologies, microtonal investigations, multifarious techniques. The performer extrapolates logic from any page, not to mention a wealth of upper partials that the aforementioned Shaw could not even imagine existed at the time of his rant. Chrysakis' "Egress" and Rădulescu's "Capricorn's Nostalgic Crickets" respectively employ five and seven superimposed basset horns, although in principle Rădulescu conceived the score for "7 identical woodwinds". There, it is the composer's clairvoyance that determines the success of the whole, subject to the instrumentalist's technical prowess and interpretive brio. Some contrapuntal designs may appear too complex to the inexperienced, but for a trained ear the intertwining lines are so well grounded in a concept of absolute lucidity that they resonate almost familiarly after four listens or so.

I'd suggest looking elsewhere if you are a bit too passionate, or plain romantic. Throughout Pulse Tide, one gets a glimpse of primary perceptions that privilege stern intellect over guts. Or perhaps — as is often the case — your chronicler is still missing something; and because of that, he will humbly press "play" once again.