David Lanz

The pianist David Lanz emerged as one of the most “cultivated” voices of New Age music. His albums—both solo and orchestral—have created a style that has now become a classic benchmark for future generations.

Born in Seattle in 1950, during the 1970s he began performing on the nightclub circuit and working in advertising. Converted to Eastern meditation, he started composing and recording piano music to satisfy a deeply personal and private need.

The ten compositions of Heartsounds flow with a joy for life. Melodically contained, sometimes lively and sometimes reflective, they recall the guitar watercolors of Leo Kottke. The affinity lies not only in their cheerful and nostalgic mood but also in their use of folk-like themes and cadences. Rich in pathos (Embrace, Star Gazer, Dream Field, Farewell Amparo—which remain among the masterpieces of the genre) or delightfully breathless (Valencia, Homecoming, Day Star, Heartsounds, Rosario, Sun Song), they explore a theme, a feeling, a situation, leaving the listener with a vivid impression and confirming Lanz’s stature as a consummate “storyteller.”

In his harmonies full of color, one recognizes above all the great composers of the late nineteenth century (Debussy, Chopin, and especially Ravel), but also pop songwriters, from John Lennon to Elton John.

Nightfall refines this approach by extending and enriching the compositions. The delicate impressionism of Leaves On The Seine, which truly evokes the image of leaves falling and resting on the surface of water, and of Nightfall, which narrates the slow descent of shadows over ever more deserted and silent streets, recalls Monet’s murals, repeating the same image in soft dissolves. Appropriately, the album closes with a Song For Monet. A freer movement and a sense of fairytale mark the sound journey through Faces Of The Forest. More introspective, Courage Of The Wind—with its delicate refrain—is perhaps the melodic peak of the work, and at the same time the element that connects it to the previous album.

The passage from the sketch-like Heartsounds to the landscape-like Nightfall is fundamental for the evolution of his style—neutral and classical in the purest sense, free from both easy sensationalism and abstruse abstraction.

Lanz then began a collaboration with guitarist Paul Speer that would continue for years. In these records, his refined art as a composer met the arranging skills of his partner, an old friend (and an artist in his own right).

This sophisticated technique led to the great success of Natural States, followed by Desert Vision (featuring the celebrated Eagle’s Path and Desert Rain). The album is somewhat dispersive, with Lanz seeking radio airplay through the sequencer trills of the catchy Behind The Waterfall and the poignant “Morricone-like” atmosphere of First Light, then searching for the right balance between orchestra and drums in Faces Of The Forest (Mountain even adds a choir), before settling into the tinkling refrain of Rain Forest. The albums with Speer seem mostly like rehearsals for techniques Lanz would later adopt in his solo work.

Cristofori’s Dream, dedicated to the inventor of the piano and destined to remain one of the greatest hits of the new age, capitalizes on his mature expressiveness through a more modern style of arrangement, marking the peak of his most romantic phase. In it, Lanz appears as a deeply moved poet in the tradition of sentimental orchestras, and his domestic pathos triumphs in simple melodies like Cristofori’s Dream and Summer’s Child; in the dreamlike, science-fictional visions of Wings To Altair—with its zen-like stillness and progressions—and in the long sonic journeys of Green Into Gold, reminiscent of the jazzy suites of art-rock. Chopin, Dollar Brand, and Klaus Schulze are among his inspiring muses.
His fluid and light compositions rely on a very simple technique that avoids using thirds (the interval that defines whether a chord is major or minor), thus leaving the listener suspended in a blurred limbo, while making heavy use of the three-chord progressions typical of pop music—the most immediate form in Western civilization.

Skyline Firedance is his most ambitious work, realized both as a solo piano version and an orchestral version. Influenced by his idols from thirty years earlier, Procol Harum and the Moody Blues, Lanz studied more intricate scores and arrangements to achieve grand, majestic effects.
Yet even in the symphonic micro-poems Vesuvius (the most modern, featuring drums and electric guitar), Dancing On The Berlin Wall (a solemn and exuberant anthem animated by cabaret-like motifs), Escapades Of Pan (the most overtly symphonic, in the sentimental sense of Tchaikovsky), and Dark Horse (the most driving), the music of this work confirms Lanz’s penchant for linear, graceful harmonies. Perhaps more than anywhere else, in the profusion of epic progressions and martial passages, evocative madrigals, and melancholic sonatas, one can perceive the influence of light orchestras and Morricone’s film scores.
All of this serves a positive vision of the human condition: the title suite, filled with folk dances arranged with the most obvious tricks of supermarket romanticism, bursts with vitality and optimism at every chord.
The solo piano version preserves the merits (and perhaps avoids some of the flaws) of the orchestral one.

Return To The Heart is truly, as its title suggests, a return to the romantic core of Lanz’s poetry. In the tradition of Chopin, the pianist displays the unadorned grandeur of the title track and soars in the free flight of imagination in Corre Rio Corre. Apart from pieces drawn from earlier albums, the record reaches heights of intimate pathos in the martial prayer of Madre De La Tierra and the tender lullaby-box tones of Dream Of The Forgotten Child. The tracks are interspersed with seven improvisations dedicated to various European locations. As a pianist, Lanz had by then achieved a more balanced and, overall, effective style.

The contrast with the bombastic symphonism of Bridge Of Dreams could not be greater. Speer sinks his arranger’s claws into the tender tissue of Lanz’s melodies, somewhat spoiling the poetry of Into The Dream and Ode To A Dark Star (the two strongest themes) and diluting the programmatic languor of And The World Falls Away and Bridge Of Dreams. Even the quieter sonatas, Veil Of Tears and Reverie, do not match the quality of the previous album. The vocals, meanwhile, disrupt the idyllic atmosphere of Song Of The East.

A master of the feeling of aching nostalgia, Lanz has succeeded in fusing folk and classical traditions, preserving the spontaneous emotion of the former and the self-conscious elegance of the latter. His sins of grandeur are forgiven by his inexhaustible melodic vein.

Sacred Road (Narada, 1996) is a collection for piano and ensemble in his most traditional style: romantic, nostalgic and emphatic (Dreamer's Waltz, Brother Quixote), but also occasionally light-hearted and sprightly (Take The High Road) or nocturnal and mournful (Still Life), and boasting the usual knack for memorable melodies (The Long Goodbye, On Our Way Home, Circle Of Friends).

Songs From An English Garden (Narada, 1998) e` una raccolta di arrangiamenti orchestrali di hit degli anni '60.

An Evening With (Narada, 1999) offers versions for solo piano of his "hits".

East Of The Moon (2000) sounded like a rather desperate attempt at finding a new audience for Lanz among rock fans.

Finding Paradise (Decca, 2002) is another hodgepodge of melodic "songs", ranging from very emotional (Tears For Alice) to catchy (Walk On Water), from neoclassical (Theme From The Other Side) to jazzy (The Sound Of Wings).

The Good Life (Decca, 2005) is a collection of easy-listening melodies done the soft-jazz way (with a band of veterans drawn from the world of soft jazz).