Trying to describe Keith Jarrett's alchemical explorations of the clavichord is like trying to describe love: If you've never fallen in love with it, the words of others mean little. All I can do is share my impressions and hope they speak, because the album promises something so indescribable that it can only be expressed in music. Over the course of nineteen improvisations, Jarrett transcends both medium and message in search of something untouched for centuries. He digs into the heart of this nearly forgotten instrument and seems to make music only after centuries of slumber. When he awakens, his body is fused with every molecule of metal and wood, so all he has to do is enter a modern age where the magic of technology allows us a glimpse of that anatomy, swaying and beautiful.