Harold Budd music is usually classified as ambient, but in fact, his style is much more comprehensive - a mixture of ambient, avant garde, jazz, classical music - sometimes it's more Third Stream, and at other times an existential classical avantgarde. Budd himself has said that he "got kidnapped into ambient", he has never limited himself to any particular style.
He received a classical training in music composition, but always loved experimenting with styles and instruments, quickly became known in the avantgarde scene but chose to go beyond that.
"In 1970 with the "Candy-Apple Revision" (unspecified in D-flat major) and "Lirio" (solo song "for a long duration") I realized I had minimalized muself out of a career. It had taken ten years to reduce my language to zero but I loved the process of seeing it occur and not knowing when the end would come. By then I had opted out of avant-garde music generally; it seemed self-congratulatory and risk-free and my solution as to what to do next was to do nothing, to stop completely."
"I resurfaced as an artist in 1972 with "Madrigals of the Rose Angel". the first of what would be a cycle of works under the collective title "The Pavilion of Dreams". Madrigals refused to accomodate or even aknoqledge any issues in new music. The entire aesthetic was an existential prettiness; not the Platonic "to Kalon", but simply pretty; mindless, shallow and utterly devastating.
Thus he came to a point where his own recognizable handwriting had been formed. His style became complete, yet always evolving. Other existential minimalist albums followed. All of them are unique, but to me, By The Dawn's Eraly Light stands out almost more than other.
By The Dawn's Early Light (1991) is an unique blend of jazz and the classical avantgarde.
The album contains several short poems, written and read by Budd himself, and the music is played on the piano, viola, guitar, and a few other instruments - there's nothing quite like it.
In some place I can hear a Satie reminiscense. I think Harold Budd is saying something Satie wanted to say - but in his own way.
Slow, minimalistic, with skilful use of pauses and all meticulously put together - beautiful and "utterly devastating". The strings give an edge to the music, searing the air, drawing a pattern, making the timeless space heavy.
By The Dawn's Early Light is a journey into the subconscious. You dive into the dreamland where weird and bizarre things happen - but the most bizarre thing of all is that nothing happens.
You're standing on the edge of a precipice. One step forward - a fall - you break your neck - and then get up, all soft and different, and walk into that other world, still bewildered.
Harold Budd certainly is an expert at disappearing and retreating from the world.
After releasing Avalon Sutra (2004) he announced that it would be his last album. The press release was as follows: "Avalon Sutra brings to a conclusion thirty years of sustained musical activity. Asked for his reasons, Budd says only that he feels that he has said what he has to say. With characteristic humility, he concludes, "I don’t mind disappearing!"
So he disappeared - but did not stop writing music. In 2005 his tracks for the film Mysterious Skin were released (in collaboration with Robin Guthrie). It seemed like a message from the place he was at at the time.
Next year he briefly reappeared. Harold Budd performed live in 2006 - at CalArts on December 6, 2006 in tribute to his late friend (and associate teacher at the then newly formed California Institute of Arts) James Tenney.
And a year later, in 2007, Samadhisound released a podcast, in which Harold said although he had believed at the time of recording Avalon Sutra that it would be his last album, he no longer felt that way. "It was a time in my life when things weren't just falling together for me, and I thought that I was just going to let it all slide ... and I was sincere about it but if I had been more conscious of my real feelings and had explored my inner sanctum more I would've seen that it was a preposterous thing to do ... <...>, turns out I wasn't telling the truth – I didn't know it at the time."
Is complete disappearance possible? Can one get away with it? Never come back? Or is it necessary to regain one's strength and coming back stronger than ever?
For Harold Budd the latter seems to be the case.
He continued composing. Several albums followed.