Writing solo pieces can be a challenge with instruments that have a limited ability to explore, or suggest, harmonic regions. Yet Anderson is canny when faced with such apparent obstacles. He employs various techniques specific to each instrument in shaping compelling and mysterious narratives, such as the muted passages and tonguing effects for French horn in ‘… springing, gradually …’, the bass clarinet’s brooding orations in ‘… vikings, unless …’ and the flute’s sweeping and animated flights in ‘… increasingly, physical …’ (those commas are as enigmatic as the ellipses).

Some of the music is catapulted by serial techniques, though Anderson doesn’t dawdle on the tone rows. The viola in ‘… mood, enough …’ announces the thematic material and then diverges to shape four short movements of expressive, vital commentary, complete with nods to old masters. Similarly, or not, ‘… procession, emerging…’ is more illuminating as a reflection of the bassoon’s personality than it is of any serial ideas.

A bit of piquant dialogue can be heard in Piece for Clarinet and Tape, and the soloist in Wedding Music has the chance to do his heraldic thing on both trumpet and flugelhorn. The only instrument easily capable of weaving lines is the piano, which is highlighted in two divergent and engaging scores, Five Bagatelles and a Synopsis and Abe’s Rag. All the soloists are expert champions of Anderson’s inventive brainstorms.