CD 'Koan, still, satori' (2003) Sargasso SCD 28049
The music is wonderful. I have been listening with intensity and delight at all levels, enjoying the rich sonorities, structures, intricacies, inventions and insights. I guess being a Buddhist as well as having some background in Japanese music helps, but I am sure the appeal must be immediate to most listeners, and in any case there's so much to gain from repeated hearings!
(Michael Barrett, OBE, Sasakawa Foundation, London, October 2003)

I love the CD. I have not heard contemporary music which is that much alive in a long long time. Struggling with the fact, especially as a performer, that many compositions nowadays seem to have lost any any sense for the up and down of tension which could be translated into a physical experience during the time of a performance, I feel that John Palmer's music comes out not only of an intellectual state, but has a very close connection to the body. This shows how he deals with form, rhythm, and especially sound. It is all very complex (good music has to be!) but it can all be felt. John Palmer?s music shows so much capacity of liveliness that there will always be something to take over into one?s personal life.
(Katharina Olivia Brand, pianist and Music Lecturer, University of Heidelberg, October 2003)

The inventiveness of the CD is extraordinary...so many twists and turns and such constant fluidity - very buddhist! The atmosphere of quiet is very striking at times too. But I have to remember it isn't the exotic quality that's important, however beautiful, but the deep underlying power of the philosophy, which is really universal. I think it's that that gives the exoticism the patina of genuine mystery - that's what it's all about on this little planet of ours.
(Jonathan Harvey, September 2003)

The louring drones at the start of John Palmer's Koan are deceptive. Like somnolent tigers in the zoo, a bad tempered cello prowls around sullen viola, cor anglais snarls at the flutes. But it turns out that the natural mood of Koan is high tension expressed in violent action. Four minutes in, shakuhachi soloist Teruhisa Fukuda is fighting his way through a dense, demanding solo passage with impressive virtuosity. Like Alice's White Rabbit, Fukuda hasn't a second to lose. Later the eight piece chamber ensemble returns, weaving thickets of woodwind around the soloist. Alto flute borrows classical shakuhachi techniques in gusts of breath and sirling harmonics. Piano and percussion do battle like a good old fashioned free improvisation night. Tokyo's ComeT Ensemble emerge from this hectic 24 minutes melee with considerable credit. But it's strange that an instrument like the shakuhachi, which presumably attracts composers like John Palmer because of certain non-Western qualities - its relation to empty space, its poise - should then be subjected to pushy post-serialism, the most Western and hyperactive of modernist idioms. The incongruous effect is like watching a samurai warrior rushing to enter a crowded subway carriage. Palmer is a British composer currently based in Germany, with a professorship in Stuttgart. Well established in the world of contemporary composition, he was a friend of John Cage, and is currently drawn to Japanese Buddhism and culture. On the second piece, Still, the oriental references are more oblique. Das Neue KammerTrio present the dark breathiness of bass flute, viola like a keening voice, and deadened, biwa-like notes from 12 string guitar. The players are keenly aware of the space and silence around their meditative phrases. The writing is still firm and disciplined, but this piece is far more beautiful than the scrum of Koan. Palmer's vision is most clearly realised in the final piece Satori, a ten minutes composition for solo harpsichord, performed by Palmer himself. The harpsichord is a stiff, unforgiving machine - no note-bending or half-hholing here - but Palmer's incisive, ringing phrases have the ascetic purity of a martial art. Strokes and gestures cut through the air with such a lack of hurry that it seems time has been abolished.
(Clive Bell, The Wire, November 2003)

Die traditionelle Musik asiatischer Länder ist eine der reichsten Quellen, aus denen Komponisten der Gegenwart und jüngeren Vergangenheit schöpfen, um das Vokabular der Musiksprache zu erweitern und zu erneuern. Eine nicht unwesentliche Rolle spielt dabei der spirituelle Hintergrund: Meditative Bewusstseinsvertiefung, die Suche nach dem Unverändlichen im Strom stetiger Veränderung, das Fassen der Welt als Ganzes sind auch bei uns seit jeher Zielsetzungen der Kunst, insbesondere der Musik. Der britische Komponist John Palmer ist ein Japan-Begeisterter. Aus seiner intensiven Beschäftigung mit der Kultur und Philosophie des Landes sind unter anderem die drei Kompositionen dieser bei Sargasso erschienenen CD hervorgegangen. Satori aus dem Jahr 1999 ist ein Solowerk für Cembalo, gespielt vom Palmer selbst. Nur wenigen Tönen wird so lange nachgehört, bis sie verklungen sind und darüber hinaus - der Umgang mit Stille ist aber ein ganz anderer als z.B. bei John Cage; es geht hier nicht um Geräusche, die erst durch Ruhe hörbar werden. Das Klangereignis wird durch eine Lupe betrachtet: der Moment, in dem es in die Stille einbricht, seine Entwicklung und das Wiedereingehen in die Stille. Ist diese Anlage typische östliche Philosophie, so verleugnet sich Palmer doch nicht als europäischer Komponist: der Klang eines Cembalos ist eindeutig in unserer Musikgeschichte verankert. Den Unterschied bzw. die Schnittmenge bei der Kulturkreise arbeitet Palmer in Koan, ebenfalls 1999 entstanden, gerade mithilfe der Instrumentalfarben heraus. Zu einem Kammerensemble gesellt sich als quasi-solisticher Gegenpol die japanische Bambusflöte Shakuhachi. Faszinierend, wie Holzblasinstrumente, Streicher und sogar das Klavier diesen spezifischen Klang übernehmen, nachahmen, erkunden. Von kontemplativer Stimmung ist hier wenig zu spüren: Koan ist ein bewegtes und virtuoses Stück - furios gespielt von Teruhisa Fukuda und dem Contemporary Music Ensemble Tokyo (ComeT), eine Liveaufnahme vom Abschlusskonzert der ISCM 2001 World Music Days in Tokio. Bestechend die Vertrautheit des japanischen Ensembles mit dieser Musik, wodurch eine energiegeladene rhythmische und klangliche Homogenität entsteht. Dies geht leider dem Neuen KammerTrio ab. Als Auftragswerk der Gruppe speziell für die Besetzung Bassflöte, Viola und Gitarre geschrieben, verarbeitet Still (2000/2001) auf ähnliche Weise Elemente japanischen Musizierens, ist ingesamt aber ruhiger und sensibler. Das intuitive Verständnis fehlt den Musikern, sie konzentrieren sich im Mitschnitt der Uraufführung vor allem auf das Auskosten der breit angelegten instrumentalen Farbpalette.
(Detlef Krenge, Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, 2, März/April 2004)

Si chiama esotismo. Tra le possibili, è la manifestazione più soft dell'incontro tra culture differenti. Certo non meno terribile di quando l'incontro genera uno scontro. Perché in definitiva si tratta sempre di una cultura che ne assoggetta un'altra, anche se solo per metterla in vetrina per questioni di gusto. Anche se solo per un vezzo. Nessun esotismo, qui. John Palmer non è uno di quei compositori che guarda a Oriente perché a Occidente s'è già detto molto, troppo o abbastanza. Non è in cerca di suoni lontani, da imitare per offrire sollievo a un ascolto e a una scrittura riarsi. Basta ascoltare Koan per rendersi conto che non abbiamo a che fare con un occidentale che compone in un'altra lingua. Palmer compone semplicemente secondo il proprio sentire. La particolarità (ma è poi rilevante?) è che tale sentire non è quello che ci attenderemmo dai suoi natali londinesi e dalla sua formazione europea. Del lontano Oriente, Koan riverbera il respiro, l'evoluzione organica di una trama musicale agitata da richiami sonori evanescenti. L'inconfondibile voce dello shakuhachi sfida l'ascoltatore a seguirne il cammino inquieto e sospettoso lungo piani strumentali che scivolano senza posa l'uno sull'altro: ombre che si dileguano o s'addensano per semplice sovrapposizione in uno spazio sonoro saturato dalla liquida ineffabilità di fiati e archi, fugaci tessitori di dialoghi il cui senso può solo essere intuito di sfuggita. In Still il disegno si fa ancor più imperscrutabile, con gli strumenti - alienati ed errabondi su una scena densa di attesa - che sembrano incrociare i propri percorsi in maniera quasi accidentale, creando, nell'incontro, microeventi di grande tensione che si allenta poi conseguentemente al loro successivo abbandonarsi, in un movimento sghembo che pare oscillare precariamente attorno a un fulcro inesistente.
Eppure, la logica sottostante appare sempre pregnante, sebbene celata: non lasciandosi dominare, questa musica non cessa mai di rivolgere interrogativi al nostro indirizzo. Chiude Satori, una lunga aperta coda che termina il ciclo così come lo si potrebbe iniziare. È il compositore stesso a farsi interprete di questa composizione, che porta all'estremo uno dei caratteri essenziali della sua poetica: l'indagine degli interstizi, di quegli spazi nascosti tra i suoni, tra le note, tra le tessiture che Palmer sa far cantare come fossero protagonisti della scena. E protagonista in questo caso è il silenzio. Denso, profondo e prolungato. Solo accidentalmente punteggiato da note - singole o a piccoli grappoli, irrilevante il loro legame: conta più la forma complessiva - che emergono da esso solo per sottolinearne la trama, come i punti luminosi che nel cielo notturno delimitano settori di ignoto, anziché delineare figure riconoscibili. Palmer gioca con le nostre aspettative musicali, facendosene beffe. Non a caso ha scelto per questo brano uno strumento come il clavicembalo, semanticamente associato a una ridondanza di materiale, a uno sfruttamento estensivo dello spazio sonoro. Basta poco, insomma, un accorto spostamento degli equilibri, per proiettare in nuovi fecondi scenari.
(Emiliano Neri, www.allaboutjazz.com/italy, April 2004)


CD 'Encounter...', (2001) Sargasso SCD 28038
John Palmer's music reflects an amazing diplomacy of time, as in old and new, and space, as in east and west. He puts the seemingly incompatible happily together as in, for example, the way he brings a harpsichord into a world with electronic sounds and Middle Eastern drumming. His range includes melodic woodwind writing, cello and electronics combined, and violin and harpsichord duo; and his moods change from reflective to dramatic to playful. And whatever he does, he does with talent, refinement, and originality.
(CDe Music, Electronic Music Foundation, New York)

This album culls four works from the late-90s by British composer John Palmer. The title piece is the longest (19 minutes) and the strangest composition here. Not that it goes further than the others in extended techniques, atonality, or any other post-modern avant-garde idiom. Simply, it throws together a harpsichord (Jane Chapman) and 'world percussion' (mostly tablas and gongs, all performed by Pete Lockett. The culture clash is self-explanatory. A tonal instrument from the West 'encounters' a percussive instrument from the East. The only point these two have in common is the attack (which can be described as 'percussive' in both cases). Acting as mediator is a tape part, mostly made of manipulated sitar samples. The piece is intriguing, disconcerting, but not completely convincing -- both instruments remain camped in traditional roles. And the way Palmer splashes the tablas solo sections all over the stereo spectrum can be downright dizzying, especially when listened to with headphones. 'Hinayana', for solo oboe (Piet Van Bockstal), is rather unremarkable. On the other hand 'Epitaph', for cello and tape, is a brilliant piece. Its rich emotional range and aggressive charge come from the composer's feelings over the suicide of a friend. The electroacoustic part derives from female voice, train and cello sounds. Cellist Neil Heyde puts a lot of soul in his performance, making the piece stand out as the highlight of this CD. The closer 'Between' offers an interesting study of the similarities between harpsichord and violin, especially when both are played pizzicato.
(François Couture, 'All-Music Guide', http://www.allmusic.com)

I am ever more amazed at the development of John Palmer's writing... The pieces are very strong and the command of sound - inner manipulation of acoustic structure - gets ever more magical! It is very powerful music that will demand as intense listening as it rewards with extreme emotional experience... Very admirable!
(Jonathan Harvey)

Palmer was born somewhere, lived elsewhere and was academically trained... It says here. But his reticence isn't paralleled by the music, which directly and often painfully expressive. 'Encounter' pits Western harpsichord (Jane Chapman) against Eastern percussion, notably tabla (Pete Lockett), fusing them through an electronic part extravagant in its effects and soundstaging. 'Hinayana' is for Piet Van Bockstal's solo oboe, with florid ornamentation, pitchbending and multiphonics. But in 'Epitaph' for cello and tape, dedicated to a friend who committed suicide by jumping in front of a train, it was a mistake to draw the tape part so obviously from train noises, as well as female voice and cello. A raw and exciting disc.
(Andy Hamilton, The Wire 01/02/1997)

JOHN PALMER - 'Encounter, Hinayana, Epitaph, Between'. Where virtuosity, electronics, emotions and spirituality meet.
Following his critically acclaimed debut CD 'Beyond the Bridge, John Palmer returns with four new thought-provoking compositions featuring Pete Lockett, Jane Chapman, Piet Van Bockstal, Neil Heyde, Matthias Cordes and Renate Bratschke.
As Palmer states: 'The music on this CD reflects a search for deeper shades of meaning through the exploration of instrumental virtuosity not as a routine display of technical skills and dazzling-show-off dexterity - which I have always regarded as boring and suspicious - but as a key to a deeper level of expressivity. 'Encounter' s a dialogue between cultures and traditions. Jane Chapman's harpsichord meets Pete Lockett's world percussion in a sensual interplay of extreme virtuosity. The two are unified by the electronics which allow both opposite forces to melt into each other. In sharp contrast, 'Hinayana' is a meditative oboe solo which nevertheless pushes the instrument?s possibilities to the extreme thanks to Piet Van Bockstal enormous skill. 'Epitaph' is probably the most emotionally charged piece of the CD, having been written after the suicide of one of the composer's closest friends. Here the cello, masterfully played by Neil Heyde, and electronics blend in a maelstrom of often unbearably terrifying sound. The final 'Between' takes the listener to a higher spiritual plane where Matthias Cordes' violin and Renate Bratschke's harpsichord evoke an imaginary space between two states of being. As with previous works, Palmer achieves his goals by extending the playing techniques of the instrumentalists and by careful interaction with the electronics, blurring the boundaries of where the instrument ends and where the electronics begin. All this never distracts from the powerful emotional 'encounters' that are conjured by the music, leaving the listener with a sense of inner-journey and self-discovery.
(sargasso.com)

CD 'Beyond the Bridge...', (1997) Sargasso SCD 28023
John Palmer, a quite worthy composer, has riposted to the general mood of spiritual Zeitgeist with Beyond the Bridge... an eclectically religious response for electroacoustics.
(Tower Records London, May 1997)

Metaphysical, symbolistic, wandering in the unreal. The whole made with a humorously gentle and uninhibited flavour. Good old England presents its audible eminent voice. New Age with barbed hooks.
(Neue Musikzeitung, Germany)

John Palmer, a lesser-known but quite worthy composer, has riposted to the general mood of spiritual zeitgeist with Beyond The Bridge... (Sargasso) an eclectically religious response for electro-acoustics.
(Louise Gray, Tower Records Top, May 1997)

Palmer's works step through the hyper-regions of a spiritual meta-world: his subtle evocations reflect an individual perspective which keeps the music terse, compelling and strongly original.
(Süddeutsche Zeitung, Munich, 1997)

I am happy to recommend John Palmer's new CD 'Beyond the Bridge...' to anybody who wishes to take time to explore inner states of mind. Through an imaginative use of electronics Palmer has evoked a very personal vision of the inner life: each piece enters strange new spaces. Whether for cello, his childrens' voices, piano, harpsichord or as in the most uncompromising essay, Spirits, for synthesizer alone, the use of electronics adds a dimension which expands out from the known and familiar to a mysterious otherness. These are pieces which need a quiet mind and attention; whoever gives them that and enters into the sounds with all their imagination should be rewarded.
(Jonathan Harvey, 1997)

For the most part, Palmer's music is impressive. His best pieces are full of character and communicate in a direct way. Unlike many people working in this overcrowded field, he knows how to make a record: the mixes are clear and spacious and the timbres delight the ear. He has an enviable talent for electronic realisation and production.
(The Wire, London, 1997)