albinobone
A string section warms up with John Adams or Phillip Glass on their minds in an empty theatre two hundred years ago. A forlorn piano remembers something in an ancient, long-forgotten hotel lobby. Somebody plays standup bass in the dark, in a sunken vessel at the bottom of the ocean. An orchestra scores a desperate, wintery Scandinavian shoreline for no-one to hear. There's something hopeful in desolate and unheard things, because they can be beautiful without human commentary.
Favorite track: Abandon.