Bruce Brubaker And the Eno Piano

By Nikolas-Kaan Yilmaz

Friday, June 7, 2024

“The special function of electrical instruments will be to provide complete control of the overtone structure of tones. (as opposed to noises) and to make these tones available in any frequency, amplitude, and duration… The composer (organizer of sound) will be faced not only with the entire field of sound but also with the entire field of time.”  – John Cage, 1958

Western art music unfolds over 15 centuries to find itself in a state of electroacoustic marriage- the current moment defined as contemporary classical. There are musicians who trek further down this road by the act of innovation—closely studying the development of conventions over the ages to know from which angle to hurl them out the window. Among them is pioneer pianist Bruce Brubaker, who has tirelessly explored the current musical landscape, using ancient and modern tools, to witness his work resonate in clubs and orchestral halls alike. Brubaker visited National Sawdust on February 23rd to share his latest body of work, Eno Piano—a contemporary acoustic reinterpretation of selected pieces by Brian Eno.

The introduction of electronic instruments and tape recording over the last century completely revolutionized composition in all walks of music. As a composer and producer, Eno is an essential voice in this conversation. The inspiration for his first ambient work came from envisioning music for public spaces, like airports, that used a surreal minimalism to complement quotidian scenes and mirror the flow of thought. His compositional and recording techniques, using the world of tools introduced by the 20th century, set the trajectory for music’s path to the modern age. Without historical context, it can be challenging to pick apart Enos' unprecedented stylistic elements when so many have become staples in modern composing—their influence acting in everything from meditation music to soundtracks. His contributions are clearly illustrated in the ethereal swells that permeate 1978’s Music For Airports. Most of the record’s initial audience had never heard their stereos emit anything resembling those electronically impressionistic sounds—they were produced by instruments introduced over the last few decades, like synths and effects boxes, that musicians were still figuring out how to integrate. 

Much of Eno’s innovation lies in his use of texture: lush synths, samples, and nonstandard recording techniques inspired by the decades of fringe musique concrete and avant-garde that preceded him. However, beneath the innovative sonic aesthetic lies the initial composition—the raw harmonic structure comprising the backdrop for his soundscapes. It is these beautiful melodic skeletons that Brubaker celebrates on Eno Piano, by trading electronic elements for acoustic instrumentation. 

“Eno Piano is not just the title of the album, it is really the goal we had of making this instrument—an Eno piano”

The genius in this act is not simply making an “Eno unplugged” record—it lies within Brubaker’s thoughtful retention of the ambient elements of the compositions. Every sound on the record was produced acoustically, occupying Eno’s electronic elements with a fearless exploration of resonant techniques. It is so effective they make one question if one is hearing a piano. “Eno Piano is not just the title of the album, it is really the goal we had of making this instrument—an Eno piano,” said Brubaker for InFiné Music. Amidst the performance, he explained that some of these sounds are achieved by the use of electromagnetic bows. Rather than creating a percussive note that fades, as the hammers of a piano typically would, these bows make the strings resonate without contact to create prolonged, disembodied drones. 

Thus, on February 23rd, Brubaker brought an instrument of his own design to the stage of National Sawdust—a biomechanical grand piano with 2 computers secured to its head, and wires running through its body like veins—an instrument designed to acoustically play the music of Eno. In performance, The Eno piano allowed Brubaker to treat the ambient and compositional elements as one, playing the keyboard with one hand and the computers with the other. This gave Brubaker the ability to actively adjust timbre and sonic parameters while simultaneously playing melodies on the keyboard– effectively granting him complete sonic control of the grand piano. 

Looking at the Eno piano is looking into the physical manifestation of Western art music’s evolution up to this point. Its body, the grand, is the vehicle of ancient masters who drove music to this place in time. Its heart is composed of the 20th-century tools that revolutionized all aspects of creation—motherboards, magnets, and wires. The mind that gives it life is that of a man who carves the path of music’s story forward with each note he strikes.

With Eno Piano, Bruce Brubaker recontextualized pieces that altered musical history’s course by fashioning an instrument to perform them—displaying the road’s new twists and turns since Eno made his mark.


About Nikolas-Kaan Yilmaz

Nikolas Yilmaz is a Turkish-Bulgarian writer and musician based in Brooklyn. He is currently the editorial intern at MOTIF, an editor at Rambler Magazine, and composes for multiple recording and touring projects. Yilmaz has been organizing, performing, and documenting NYC cultural events since 2019.

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