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I, doubtless along with numerous Fanfare devotees, first became acquainted with the music of Joshua Fineberg back in 38:5, which contained a feature by Marc Medwin devoted to pianist Marilyn Nonken performing the Spectral music of Fineberg and Dufourt on another Metier issue. That disc was positively reviewed by Medwin, Peter Burwasser, Colin Clarke, and me, and consequently I was looking forward to another intriguing musical voyage, this time with chamber music by this imaginative and talented American composer. The title of the disc in hand is Sonic Fictions, a term that Fineberg has applied to the majority of his compositions. But, what does he mean by the term? In his view, anything that is composed is a “fiction,” since compositions spring from the mind of the composer. Beyond that reasonable conclusion, Fineberg in his music seeks to explore correspondences and analogies with the non-musical world drawing inspiration from such disparate sources as subatomic physics, Zen rock gardens, or fluid dynamics. But in these pieces, the composer is not seeking a musical modeling of nature, but one more akin to the Modernist writing that overtly draws attention to its very fictitious character, an idea referring to “an acoustic perceptual object that is constantly being shaped and manipulated by authorial and interpretive voices.”

All of this may seem rather arcane to the reader who has not heard Fineberg’s music, but in light of the auditory experience, his explanations seem to make sense, and are exemplified in the very opening work on the CD, L’abîme. This quarter-hour work was written for the Talea Ensemble, and calls for spatially separated groups consisting of a sub-ensemble of soloists playing clarinet/bass clarinet, bassoon, and cello. These are placed forward from a stage ensemble of flute, oboe, piano, violin, and percussion, and three off-stage soloists (on horn, viola, and double bass) complete the complement of instruments. All the players’ sounds “are projected, distorted, diffused, and replicated in the mostly pitch-based ensemble parts, like images reflected again and again in a hall of mirrors.” The result of all of this careful attention to spatial aspects and sound production is a mesmerizing musical melange, the likes of which I cannot recall hearing previously in the music of any other composer. The sounds that result suggest that electronic manipulation of them is taking place, but apparently that is not the case.

Electronics are employed in the second work, Just as much entangled with other matter, a work written for virtuoso accordionist Pascal Contet. The title comes from an excerpt in a passage from The Principles of Psychology, a classic work on the subject by William James dating back to 1890. Fineberg restricts the electronics to the pianissimo dynamic level, and interestingly in live performance they are played back on synchronized smartphones hidden throughout the audience. A non¬techie like me can scarcely conceive of how such a thing can be done, but as effective as the piece is on a simple stereo system, I’d love to hear a concert performance along these lines. The piece opens almost inaudibly (flowing logically out of the very quiet conclusion of the preceding work) with electronic sounds. Before long, isolated sounds from the accordion are heard that grow out of the background ambience. These sounds are played without vibrato, and often sound electronically generated themselves. Along the way, there are sounds of the instrument “breathing” without yielding actual pitches. At least, I’m assuming that’s where the breathing sounds are coming from—I’m not even sure how such would be produced. The music never really gets above about a mezzo-piano in volume, but the soft dynamic led me to listen all the more closely. If your idea of the accordion is primarily for its use in tangos and polkas, this piece will most certainly be a revelation to you. The instrument is capable of creating really interesting sounds and musical effects.

La Quintina, a work dating from 2011-12, was written for the Arditti Quartet and instructs the string quartet players to seat themselves in an inwardly facing circle instead of facing the audience. Every string player (but few others) knows what a practice mute is—a mute made out of some thick piece of metal such that it damps out about 90 percent of the sound of the instrument, to avoid disturbing others nearby. Mutes, whether the normal style used in orchestral playing or practice mutes, do more than just reduce volume, as they also change the timbre of the sound that a string instrument produces. High frequency overtones are largely absent, and the effect is almost as though the instruments are being heard from a distance, or with a sound-absorbent material placed between the player and the listener. In La Quintina, Fineberg is attempting to replicate the unique style of Sardinian singing by the Confratemita de Castelsardo, in which a quartet of singers, huddled together, produces fifth ‘‘ghost tones,” considered to be a manifestation of the Virgin Mary. I’ve never heard this style of singing, but the uniquely ethereal sounds heard by the string quartet would seem to be close to what is described in the notes. This is some of the most haunting music you’ll ever hear, and it makes a power impression. Electronics are also utilized throughout the work to create artificial over¬tones, all of which adds to the mysterious sonority of the work.

Objets trouvés (Found Objects) closes the recital as the oldest work among the four. The objects referred to in the title include sustained chords, homorhythmic repeated-note melodies, and flutter- tone or tremolo bursts, all of which are transformed over the 18-minute duration of the piece, often¬times by the piano in the chamber ensemble that includes wind, string, and percussion instruments. As in the previous works, the acoustically produced sounds yield a quasi-electronic ambience.

In all of these works, Fineberg displays a keen ear for sonority, spatial ordering, and structure. The resulting recital makes for an absolutely fascinating listening experience, one which ought to be experienced by anyone who desires to “listen outside the box.” I do suspect that these are the sort of pieces that cannot be dealt justice on a recording (as opposed to hearing them in live performance), but the renditions of each piece are absolutely convincing to my ears, and I would guess are highly satisfying to the composer as well. Highly recommended to the adventurous.