Rome, July 19, 2024 — Two compositions made the last night of my trip—each an aria of sorts, born of the same glacially slow-moving ether. I cannot quite put my finger on the feeling the harmonies evoke in me. A part of me wants to say: heaven. Or: divinity. The second piece begins to embrace the idea of parting.
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AuthorRamin Amir Arjomand is a pianist, improviser, composer, conductor and teacher based in Brooklyn. Archives
August 2024
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