Of equal importance, there’s an adventurous sense of color and extra-musical interventions. I suspect George Crumb may be an influence on Ali-Zadeh: the 1988 (rev. 1997) Music for Piano features a beaded necklace draped over the middle strings of the piano, creating a shimmering jangle rather like moments in Makrokosmos. Muting of strings as preparation in the Apsheron Quintet (2001) creates a driving rhythmic backdrop in its first movement, while interior piano pizzicatos add a magical effect in the second. Instruments are also asked to mimic Central Asian timbres; again, in the quintet the violin takes on the nasal timbre of the kemancheh, a native viol. Or at the end of the quintet’s first movement, it seems as though a frame drum has entered. I think it’s the players knocking on their instruments, but I’m not totally sure, the sound is so realistic. And the composer will willingly bring in additional sounds.

Oasis (1998) begins and ends with the sound of dripping water; at one point, a delicate babble of men’s whispering voices augments the texture. Or in Mugam Sayagi (1993), there’s a tamboura drone and asonic tingle like a triangle tremolo (synthesized, according to the notes), as well as a small repeated tam-tam stroke at the climax!

While the individual pieces have distinct characters, they still blend into a sort of multimovement suite in the flow of the recording. Ali-Zadeh is an excellent pianist, though her writing for the instrument relies as much on compositional choice of the right gesture and color for a given moment as it does on overt technical virtuosity. The Kronos has been an advocate of her music for over a decade now (Mugam Sayagi was released earlier on their collection of music from Central Asia, “Night Prayers,” Nonesuch 979346), and the sort of collaboration they’ve undertaken with her over several pieces is a model for the sort of interaction all chamber ensembles should have with composers whom they admire and wish to encourage.

While I don’t feel as though in this music I’m hearing something never before heard, simultaneously I feel as though I’m hearing something deeply rooted to traditions with which I’m unacquainted, filtered through a profoundly musical and imaginative spirit. The music sounds increasingly rich on repeated listenings, which is one of the important first hurdles it must pass for survival. This is a very satisfying introduction to a composer from whom I suspect we’ll hear much more.

Robert Carl, FANFARE