In the meantime, we have the CD itself, with three works by Barrière and three by his frequent collaborator (and wife), Kaija Saariaho. The only work on the disc I was previously familiar with was the opening track, Saariaho's superb solo violin work, Nocturne, written at the time of Lutosławski's death. (Eerily, I write this CCM blurb literally just as the death of another highly influential Polish composer, Penderecki, is making the headlines.) I was lucky enough to twice hear their daughter, violinist and conductor Aliisa Neige Barrière, perform the work live, and it was a moving experience both times, as Saariaho's plaintive work gorgeously evokes an atmospheric longing, with the occasional chirp and muffled shriek inviting one to wonder what sort of things howl in this night, whether a literal night or the night we all are marching inexorably towards. Aliisa is here on this recording, too, and shows herself to be an authoritative interpreter of her mother's music.

The Nocturne is unique on the CD, as it is the only purely acoustic work here. All the other works use electronics, each to brilliant effect. Each composer has one work featuring superb flautist, Camilla Hoitenga, one work featuring the stellar singing of Raphaële Kennedy, and one work with Aliisa Neige Barrière. The latter's contribution for Barrière plays Barrière is on Jean-Baptiste's riveting work, Violance (the spelling is intentional). The work takes as its springboard Maeterlinck's gut-wrenching short story (less than 4000 words), The Massacre of the Innocents (after Pieter Brueghel). While Maeterlinck's original story–full of obvious allegorical overtones, starring a little shepherd lad on December 26 coming to Nazareth–is chock full of specific, named characters, Barrière ever-so-skillfully adapts the text to make the personal and specific into something universal, and yet still-so-personal. (I'm reminded of Ives's changing of Keats's word "My" to "The" in the opening line of his masterpiece short song, the lament "Like a Sick Eagle," to similar, universal effect.) Using the voice of a child to intone the brutal story of the unfolding slaughter (including, of course, of children) is a chilling stroke of genius, enhanced by the electronic blanket of sound and Aliisa's subtle and beautiful playing of the violin's commentary on the text. Here she shows herself to be an authoritative interpreter of her father's music, too.