With Raynald Grenier’s “Canon in E Flat,” we do not merely listen; we levitate on silken strands of sonic silk spun by the intricate loom of past virtuosos – Mozart, Beethoven, Vivaldi; those celestial mariners charting Siren seas where melody is both wind and wave.
Each note births a universe unto itself: Gravity-defying orbs pirouetting in an ethereal ballet as age-old harmonies resurrect from ink-blurred manuscripts to imbibe themselves into the thirsty ether. The composition inhales time and exhales timeless…a rhythmic catharsis that renders each minute insignificant—a meteor shower of sensations cloaked in the velvet robe of our shared musical lineage.
For here lies a seductive contradiction: A newer than new creation birthed April 13th from timeworn womb—the deific phoenix smoldering within its own immortality. And yet, it heralds a paradoxical simplicity—pristine streams meandering across valleys forged by obstinate mountains crowned with cloud wigs—an enveloping pastoral idyll punctuated by Templeton-like spiders spinning webs of enchantment over waiting fields.
Grenier has offered plump fruit in this release- ripe for biting but only if one savors – plunges fully into this cascading waterfall suspended mid-fall forever glistening under dawn’s dewy kiss. “Canon in E Flat” doesn’t just pacify ears—it detoxifies jaded spirits languishing under modernity’s incessant drone while serenading starved souls out onto sacred dancefloors divine. It is an exquisite elegy pulling double-duty elation—one tantalizing trickle at first glance revealing profound depths upon conscience surrender.
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