The novel medium of harpsichord and percussion can produce brilliant displays of colour, but is less well suited to the presentation of musical argument on the larger scale. This rather sober conclusion is the result of hearing the remarkable duo of Elisabeth Chojnacka and Sylvio Gualda in three compositions which, though well-contrasted in style, all tend to outstay their welcome. For all its purely sonic fascination, it seems, this combination lends itself primarily to the exploration of relatively small-scale ideas, and even inventiveness so strong as that of Xenakis is hard put to it to sustain the listener's interest for 18 minutes or so.
Francois-Bernard Mache's Anaphores makes the most consistent attempt at sustained melodic writing, and its opening—a decorated, incantatory chant—also gives full rein to Gualda's astonishing control and virtuosity. The passage of sever polyphony for the harpsichord near the end is also a striking invention, and the piece as a whole (it's the first to be issued on LP in the UK by one of France's most interesting composers) is an impressive one. Xenakis's Komboi ( ''Knots'') begins powerfully, with an exuberant dance-march, and sustains a welcome geniality as it eagerly explores the novel possibilities of the medium, but it lacks a convincing overall shape, an inexorable growth to a final climax. Geniality and exuberance, along with a rather inconsequential form, are also features of Martial Solal's Pieces. Yet this music disarms criticism with its totally unpretentious manner. It is not just jazzy but genuinely witty, and here, as throughout, the skill and distinction of the playing make moans about structural deficiencies in the compositions seem more than usually academic.
The recordings are excellent: closely focused, but achieving a spacious balance between the players at all extremes of dynamics and register.'