In his new recording, From Oblivion to Hope, composer Frank Horvat, with the voice of the Odin Quartet, remains quite assured throughout in exploring multiple possibilities of musical ins and outs.
He is much at ease with the intrinsic playful potential of his compositions, with the quietly but assertively challenging value of musical understatement, and with sounds doing a fresh take on intellect and meaning.
The music here is alluringly experiential, irresistible to ears seeking rich new turf of the sprit, complex and repeatedly with surprise but never sounding intentionally so. Call it a natural knack for expression, if you will.
A take on Vivaldi’s Four Seasons makes one rethink the classic as music meditating upon its existential self and realizing itself anew. The music seems deceptively straightforward on a spiritual plane, but one continues to feels engaged in inner search.
These are engaging compositions and performances of music that addresses both the intellect and the heart, sometimes with the impact of a subtle punch in the gut, or is it in the spirit?
One feels the intimacy of the composer’s presence, as if he is attempting to probe the often unresolvable with the listener’s -your -collaboration.
Horvat demonstrates to us that music, like existence, is a world unto itself and that our words cannot duplicate it at all, but merely react. Which is what I am doing, no? But music of such firm purpose does compel us to live it through our reactions to it.
Horvat provides his written take on what he has written in evocative passages contained in the CD package. He writes about String Quartet No. 2: “Inspired by hard rock and metal, this piece mimics musical characteristics most often found in these genres. From thick textured orchestration to crunchy riffs to melodic shrieks…”
The second longer composition, “The Four Seasons…in High Park” is written “in recognition of” both, with the composer’s expert handling of the listener’s familiarity, shock of recognition, and surprise.
Unity in Distress, composed in 2020, gives “all those who suffered a united voice to express their distress.”
I haven’t as yet united in my mind the compositions “Oblivion (2018)” and “Hope (2022)” to their titles, since Oblivion and Hope are decidedly personal experiences whose present meaning I must discover on my own each time I listen to the music.
Moreover, my work as a human development consultant always makes me wary of any bonding of human experience and the words applied to it.
But the music’s the thing, and one potent quality of Horvat’s skillfully-portioned works is that they compel the listener to experience indefinable, even indescribable, realms within.
And who can say what is happening, can happen, will happen, as a result of hearing From Oblivion to Hope?
Needless to say, I recommend that you find out.