Over the last two decades, Max Richter has perfected the art of writing lovely and intimate instrumental music, indebted to Brian Eno, Philip Glass, and Romantic era classical alike. Since the release of his debut Memoryhouse in 2002 and the landmark The Blue Notebooks in 2004, the German-born composer’s brand of tonal, postminimalist composition has dominated the classical scene, with labels like New Amsterdam Records and Bedroom Community championing and furthering the crossover classical ethos. For his part, Richter has basically become a popstar, claiming more than a billion streams to his name and a slew of big-ticket film and television scores.
Now, he’s reflecting on these years of music making, looking back to move forward. Released 20 years after The Blue Notebooks, In a Landscape returns Richter to the themes that have made his career with a heavy dose of nostalgia. And while his compositional style functions like a well-oiled machine, In a Landscape shows that there’s still room to evolve by exploring the darkness that churns within his gentle music.
Though on its surface Richter’s music is nearly too pretty, it has often been used to soundtrack the ills of society. His film and television scores have served as the backdrop to shows like Black Mirror, while he wrote The Blue Notebooks in protest of the Iraq War. With In a Landscape, he alludes to the polarity of our time and how his lovely music may offer some solace, or space, to contemplate it. But where his other music never strays too far from lightness, here he explores the more melancholy side of his practice, unearthing the uncertainty hiding behind even the most pleasant moments.
Throughout, Richter’s melodies slope into downtrodden chords to create a darkened atmosphere. He often starts his compositions with simple phrases of just a few notes that glide down, moving at a leisurely andante and in uneven, unsteady steps. He shrouds each of these plodding phrases with a hint of reverb and ends most of his pieces on a solemn minor chord, languishing in each note. Take opener “They Will Shade Us With Their Wings,” for example, which features a melody in which the second note is accented, not the first, like a long, tired sigh after a sharp breath.
This structure gives Richter’s music its pensiveness. “A Colour Field (Holocene)” blossoms from a five-note phrase whose off-kilter motion builds tension with each repetition, creating a hint of dissonance while maintaining his music’s signature charm. “The Poetry of Earth (Geophony)” grows from a couplet of four-note piano melodies, gradually adding in romantic strings that burst and swirl around them. Between these compositions lie recordings of everyday life, like the ambiance of cafes, footsteps, or birds. Though nothing new in the world of field recordings, in the context of In a Landscape, they offer a poignant break to remember the small moments that have already passed.
Because Richter’s formula is so honed, it can become difficult to differentiate each piece as the album progresses. Was that the same baroque melody that appeared on “And Some Will Fall,” just transposed? Richter’s approach is almost too cut-and-dry; there’s none of the messiness that comes with processing emotion or the tension and release that defines catharsis. But closer “Movement, Before all Flowers” offers a welcome surprise. The song appears with airiness, turning the album’s leaden minor chords into something buoyant. A cello soars above oscillating piano like a shining light pointing the way back to shore. It’s Richter’s music at its most hopeful, emerging from the wreckage into something even more beautiful.
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