”Piano Blend 2013” (”Pianokimara 2013”), a book offering pianists an intriguing collection of new Finnish piano works, has been released in December 2013.


The collection contains 13 piano works, written in 1998-2013 by nine Finnish composers. Most of the pieces are composed after 2010 and are all rich additions to the repertoire for players of Music Institute standards upwards.


To help the player choose and practice, the book is accompanied by a CD of the pieces performed by Jasmin Fors.

Piano Blend 2013

13 pieces from 1998-2013,

9 Finnish composers:


Markus Fagerudd / Jasmin Fors /

Osmo Honkanen / Mika Kuuskankare /

Max Savikangas / Lauri Toivio /

Tuomas Turriago / Jennah Vainio /

Harri Wessman


© 2013 Uusinta Kustannusosakeyhtiö

January 2014

April 2014

A Finnish Poetess Jenni Haukio

55 x 46 cm, oil on canvas, 2013–14

Summer colors

”Forget-me-not Fantasy”

watercolor and gouache on paper, 2014

”Late Summer Idyll”

16 x 16 cm, oil on canvas, 2014


I have painted this late summer painting with rather delicate and thinned colors. The work has ethereal scent of watercolor, together with a rich, creamy surface typical for oil colors. 


Golden grain grabs, fluttering petals of a powder rose, and a knight butterfly, create a composition enriched by a pair of glowing red rosebuds and blue butterflies hovering in the azure.

August 2014

June 2014

Archives 3

Bio

Archives

Cantus Artificiosus


An old artist was sitting alone in his studio, bent over his drawing paper. He rubbed his temples and wondered with a sigh how he had once managed to conjure forth on canvas a fetching lock of hair, the difficult curve of a chin, a lively face in just the right proportions…


And once again he began his journey anew. Humble and curious, he guided his pen across the page, first testing and seeking, then with growing purpose and ease. Just as if he were obeying orders from outside.


The more the figure took shape on the page, the more willful his work of art became.


“No, the shadow of my lower lip is velvety soft yet translucent. If I were suddenly to shift my gaze, the shadow would have to come alive. You won’t glue it on my lips, will you… My dear, see the curve of my jaw. That, too, lives and curves, sometimes broad, sometimes thin and delicate before ending at a beautifully-shaped ear. You have noticed my eyes… they really are a little sad, because right now I have worries. But please make it a little darker,” the face emerging on the page might whisper.


“Yes, yes. I’m trying to do my best. But be patient; I can’t keep up with you,” mumbled the old artist, immersing himself in the movements of his pen.


“My hair… the light and shadows trace a smooth arch, because I like things to look natural. Oh! I’m actually like a charmer, aren’t I!”


“You are indeed,” the artist replied and doggedly continued working. Dusk fell, and with a start he became aware of an oppressive silence. “Where are you? I need your advice,” he muttered. No one replied; the candle just hissed for a moment in its molten wax. “I think I’ll take a little rest and look at the drawing again in a better light first thing in the morning,” he decided, wiping the drawing with a soft cloth, at precisely the darkest shading of the hair. “Silk…,” he wearily thought just before closing his eyes and falling asleep.


A moment later a faint voice was heard in the darkness:

“Thank you.”


The artist, who now slumbered peacefully after his labours in order to regain his strength did not yet know that his picture was finished.


-JF

English translation by Susan Sinisalo

An English Writer Virginia Woolf

(1882-1941)

30 x 20 cm, pencil on paper, 2014

November 9, 2014

Archives 3