Photo: Lucy Clarke 

Flight AA 4296: Indianapolis to Chicago. A glance to my left reveals Indiana by night: an infinite grid of incandescent gold. In my hands is Sky Mall, a surrealist compendium of bizarre inventions and gratuitous gadgetry; the commercial imagination at its worst and best. In my ears, the light opening touches of improvising pianist Paul G. Smyth’s recent eighteen-minute work, for Christina Carter.

A delicate figure encloses itself, waiting patiently for harmonics to decay. There is a gradual expansion of palette, potentially pentatonic but obscured by dissonances. Chordal interjections follow without regularity amidst hurried runs...