Marc Copland is a player you either like or you don’t. Some of his fellow jazz pianists find him effete. His time is not his strong suit, and he is not “pianistic.” In fact, Copland started as a saxophonist and came late to the piano.
This reviewer can listen to him all night. For Copland the piano is a means to evoke moodscapes, self-contained atmospheres of crystalline lyricism. But his version of romantic impressionism is not soft. His colors are pastel yet complex, and his harmonies are ambiguous.
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