The Lost
Deaf Center's Otto A. Totland gives room to breathe and reflect with the rarified solo piano hush of 'the lost', a follow-up to his beautiful debut Pinô [2014], which, like this new LP, was also recorded at Nils Frahm’s Durton Studio in Berlin, and released by Monique Recknagel’s Sonic Pieces.
Intended to be “played on ‘soft’ volume”, in order to “Embrace the mechanical noises”, Totland’s 2nd solo album unfurls a baker’s dozen of beautiful airs with a glacially elapsing sense of timelessness that almost makes you forget that the world outside is heading towards terminal velocity.
One of the most endearing elements of Totland’s work is the way he effortlessly sidesteps the more overblown gestures of many in the contemporary classical field in favour of a relatively rawer, more modest sound, allowing us to hear the friction of the keys against themselves and even his bum shuffling on the piano stool, which serves to level the recording in line with the listener’s perspective - rather than wow with some church-like reverbs or lofty detachment - and in turn offer a direct way in to his fragile, melancholy expressions.
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Deaf Center's Otto A. Totland gives room to breathe and reflect with the rarified solo piano hush of 'the lost', a follow-up to his beautiful debut Pinô [2014], which, like this new LP, was also recorded at Nils Frahm’s Durton Studio in Berlin, and released by Monique Recknagel’s Sonic Pieces.
Intended to be “played on ‘soft’ volume”, in order to “Embrace the mechanical noises”, Totland’s 2nd solo album unfurls a baker’s dozen of beautiful airs with a glacially elapsing sense of timelessness that almost makes you forget that the world outside is heading towards terminal velocity.
One of the most endearing elements of Totland’s work is the way he effortlessly sidesteps the more overblown gestures of many in the contemporary classical field in favour of a relatively rawer, more modest sound, allowing us to hear the friction of the keys against themselves and even his bum shuffling on the piano stool, which serves to level the recording in line with the listener’s perspective - rather than wow with some church-like reverbs or lofty detachment - and in turn offer a direct way in to his fragile, melancholy expressions.
Deaf Center's Otto A. Totland gives room to breathe and reflect with the rarified solo piano hush of 'the lost', a follow-up to his beautiful debut Pinô [2014], which, like this new LP, was also recorded at Nils Frahm’s Durton Studio in Berlin, and released by Monique Recknagel’s Sonic Pieces.
Intended to be “played on ‘soft’ volume”, in order to “Embrace the mechanical noises”, Totland’s 2nd solo album unfurls a baker’s dozen of beautiful airs with a glacially elapsing sense of timelessness that almost makes you forget that the world outside is heading towards terminal velocity.
One of the most endearing elements of Totland’s work is the way he effortlessly sidesteps the more overblown gestures of many in the contemporary classical field in favour of a relatively rawer, more modest sound, allowing us to hear the friction of the keys against themselves and even his bum shuffling on the piano stool, which serves to level the recording in line with the listener’s perspective - rather than wow with some church-like reverbs or lofty detachment - and in turn offer a direct way in to his fragile, melancholy expressions.
Deaf Center's Otto A. Totland gives room to breathe and reflect with the rarified solo piano hush of 'the lost', a follow-up to his beautiful debut Pinô [2014], which, like this new LP, was also recorded at Nils Frahm’s Durton Studio in Berlin, and released by Monique Recknagel’s Sonic Pieces.
Intended to be “played on ‘soft’ volume”, in order to “Embrace the mechanical noises”, Totland’s 2nd solo album unfurls a baker’s dozen of beautiful airs with a glacially elapsing sense of timelessness that almost makes you forget that the world outside is heading towards terminal velocity.
One of the most endearing elements of Totland’s work is the way he effortlessly sidesteps the more overblown gestures of many in the contemporary classical field in favour of a relatively rawer, more modest sound, allowing us to hear the friction of the keys against themselves and even his bum shuffling on the piano stool, which serves to level the recording in line with the listener’s perspective - rather than wow with some church-like reverbs or lofty detachment - and in turn offer a direct way in to his fragile, melancholy expressions.
Limited edition of 450 copies. Handmade textiled artwork, foil embossed and individually numbered, including printed inner sleeve and instant download dropped in your account,
Out of Stock
Deaf Center's Otto A. Totland gives room to breathe and reflect with the rarified solo piano hush of 'the lost', a follow-up to his beautiful debut Pinô [2014], which, like this new LP, was also recorded at Nils Frahm’s Durton Studio in Berlin, and released by Monique Recknagel’s Sonic Pieces.
Intended to be “played on ‘soft’ volume”, in order to “Embrace the mechanical noises”, Totland’s 2nd solo album unfurls a baker’s dozen of beautiful airs with a glacially elapsing sense of timelessness that almost makes you forget that the world outside is heading towards terminal velocity.
One of the most endearing elements of Totland’s work is the way he effortlessly sidesteps the more overblown gestures of many in the contemporary classical field in favour of a relatively rawer, more modest sound, allowing us to hear the friction of the keys against themselves and even his bum shuffling on the piano stool, which serves to level the recording in line with the listener’s perspective - rather than wow with some church-like reverbs or lofty detachment - and in turn offer a direct way in to his fragile, melancholy expressions.
Back in stock - Limited Edition of 350 copies with handmade textile artwork.
Out of Stock
Deaf Center's Otto A. Totland gives room to breathe and reflect with the rarified solo piano hush of 'the lost', a follow-up to his beautiful debut Pinô [2014], which, like this new LP, was also recorded at Nils Frahm’s Durton Studio in Berlin, and released by Monique Recknagel’s Sonic Pieces.
Intended to be “played on ‘soft’ volume”, in order to “Embrace the mechanical noises”, Totland’s 2nd solo album unfurls a baker’s dozen of beautiful airs with a glacially elapsing sense of timelessness that almost makes you forget that the world outside is heading towards terminal velocity.
One of the most endearing elements of Totland’s work is the way he effortlessly sidesteps the more overblown gestures of many in the contemporary classical field in favour of a relatively rawer, more modest sound, allowing us to hear the friction of the keys against themselves and even his bum shuffling on the piano stool, which serves to level the recording in line with the listener’s perspective - rather than wow with some church-like reverbs or lofty detachment - and in turn offer a direct way in to his fragile, melancholy expressions.