Loud, brash, brassy, violent—Silva's orchestra pulverizes with squalls of power and giddiness.
In May 1999, Alan Silva gathered two dozen musicians at St. Nicholas of Myra Church in New York City during the Vision Festival and set them loose on a massive composition spread across three parts. This was not a conventional ensemble date—Silva had assembled what he called the Sound Visions Orchestra, a sprawling collective of East Coast improvisers working from a loosely structured score that gave individual voices room to explode. The church acoustics and the sheer size of the group created something rowdy and uncontainable: solos sprawl across thick layers of horns and reeds, drums and bass push hard, and the whole thing has a bracing refusal to smooth itself out.
Steve Loewy's AllMusic review nailed it: loud, brash, brassy, violent. This is not background music. The three-part structure lets Silva and his players build intensity, collapse it, then rebuild it differently each time. Horns squall, rhythms tangle, soloists take turns testing the limits of the ensemble's tolerance. Some listeners will find it exhausting; others will hear exactly what Silva was after—the sound of restraint abandoned, a collective thinking out loud at high volume.
Released in 2001 by Eremite Records, this live recording stands apart from Silva's other work by sheer scale and density. If you want to hear Silva in chamber settings or smaller groups, look elsewhere first. Start here only if you are ready for the full orchestral assault and willing to sit with something deliberately difficult and deliberately alive.