This is US composer Neil Rolnick's first appearance on MusicWeb 
                  International's pages; that is apart from a listing in a review 
                  late last year of a 5-CD boxed set of composers associated with 
                  the New York Foundation for the Arts. That release, also on 
                  Innova, featured the last movement of the first work on this 
                  disc, Extended Family. 
                  
                  The MONO Prelude is "for laptop and voice". 
                  Rather ominously, it opens with a 1980s synth-pop kind of 'intro', 
                  and the words, spoken by Rolnick, "Monday morning, I'm 
                  writing music in my studio". Many people will doubtless 
                  take immediate issue with this, because the backing track - 
                  there is no other term for it - sounds like something that a 
                  computer on auto-pilot came up with. The voice-over - again, 
                  no other term - charts Rolnick's sudden and permanent loss of 
                  hearing in his left ear, and the onset of loud tinnitus - "more 
                  or less like having a white noise generator in my left ear 24/7", 
                  as Rolnick puts it here - followed by medical diagnosis and 
                  prognosis. The Prelude is in fact part of a whole evening 
                  of "media performance" assembled by Rolnick from solicited 
                  feedback from the wider public, from others who had experienced 
                  similar impairment of one of their senses. All of this may sound 
                  worthy in principle, but not only does the listener have to 
                  cope with the constant electronic pop fluff, but also with Rolnick's 
                  voice as it undergoes various software-generated sound modifications, 
                  presumably intended to give an idea of the aural distortions 
                  Rolnick himself suffers, but ultimately coming across as rather 
                  effete. The irritating synthesizer sounds certainly make a good 
                  substitute for white noise. 
                  
                  Faith, for piano and laptop, is an improvement, but the 
                  listener may well be left wondering what the point of the computer 
                  effects is. In his notes, Rolnick has an explanation: he says 
                  that he wanted to explore the idea of faith in musical terms 
                  by writing this piece for pianist Bob Gluck, who is also a Rabbi. 
                  The laptop is interacting in real time - improvising - by which, 
                  according to the atheistic Rolnick, he is "exercising the 
                  kind of faith I do have: a faith in people, and in our ability 
                  to do our best in challenging situations." 
                  
                  Gluck, who commissioned the work, describes the result as "a 
                  fusion of a lyrical Tin Pan Alley song, late 20th century abstraction, 
                  boogie-woogie riffs, jazz improvisation, cut and paste mash-up, 
                  Chopin and Liszt virtuosic Romanticism", which gives a 
                  pretty good idea of what to expect - except that Chopin and 
                  Liszt would probably turn in their graves at the vulgarity of 
                  association. There is certainly something of merit in the piano 
                  writing, which is sometimes excitingly virtuosic, but at other 
                  times it lapses - perhaps wilfully - into what sounds like the 
                  soundtrack of a 1980s American TV cop drama. The computer effects, 
                  on the other hand, seem to be a case of 'because I can'; the 
                  idea that this has anything to do with an exploration of faith 
                  is tenuous at best. For ten minutes Rolnick might have got away 
                  with it, but at 24 minutes, this seems a very long-winded piece. 
                  
                  
                  Despite the caveats regarding Faith and the MONO Prelude, 
                  there will be many, particularly in America, who find this kind 
                  of new technology experimentation interesting, if not overly 
                  musical. Certainly no one can accuse Rolnick of not trying new 
                  things. His involvement in musical theatre suggests, as does 
                  his grinning face in the booklet, that he may not be taking 
                  himself too seriously in these pieces. 
                  
                  Happily, there is nothing negative that can be said about the 
                  programmatic string quartet Extended Family, which should 
                  have wide appeal. The five movements - 'The Gene Pool', 'Siblings', 
                  'Cousins & Uncles & Aunts', 'Loss' and 'The Gathering' 
                  - describe the "key features of my experience of an extended 
                  family". 'The Gene Pool' provides the musical DNA for the 
                  rest of the work which ends with death and finally the coming 
                  together of wider family at the post-funeral fugato 'Gathering'. 
                  The music, ably performed by the ETHEL Quartet, is, apart from 
                  the necessarily mournful 'Loss' movement, blithe, evocative 
                  and therapeutic. It is a pity that the considerable empty space 
                  on the disc could not have been used for more of Rolnick's non-experimental 
                  music. 
                  
                  Sound quality is superb. The CD cover design gives this the 
                  appearance of a pop disc - which it kind of is, in part. Rolnick's 
                  notes on the works are detailed and interesting. URLs take the 
                  listener to the personal websites of all performers. 
                  
                  Byzantion