Despite his disclaimer that this CD isn't film music, most of the pieces Hungarian-Serbian violist Szilard Mezei composed for this disc could be soundtracks for sophisticated visual fare. Additionally Mezei, who has ben creating music for decades in ensembles ranging for trios to big bands, has made the perfect accommodation with this octet

Balancing light and darkness, delicacy and durability, this sweet spot is made even sweeter since part of his compositions' originality come from the ingenious use of Nemanja Mihailović's bassoon snorts and Ivan Burka's vibraphone reverberations. Other pieces such as "Leckeringo/Lath Waltz" which demonstrates how thick fluctuations can also encompass bouncy dynamics are of similar high quality. Yet the more than 31½ minute title track and the almost 25 minute "Szabolegenyek/The Tailor's Apprentices" seem tailor-made with cinematic qualities.

Both are constructed with thematic motifs whose reoccurrence throughout cements individual variations to the main narrative. And interestingly enough both tracks start slowly before revealing exuberant expositions. The later for instance balances on counterpoint between swift lively patterning from pianist Máté Pozsár and drummer István Csík's tolling rumbles plus Mezei's and bassist Ervin Malina's string squeaks that sound as if they're abrasively scraping balloons. An interlude of flighty vibe plinks as well as constant bassoon tongue flutters preserve horizontal motion, with this selection climaxing as piano key clips and reed doits descend, leading to a coda of swirling, intersected textures.

Even more evocative, the title track makes additional use of the bassoonist as Mihailović maintains a vibrating continuum in spite of a sudden tempo changes. This projected reed drone not only strengthens the deliberate beat from the bassist and drummer, but also provides contrast to Andrea Berendika's light flute trilling. Alongside slick antiphony among the sections, near feather dusting on the vibes' aluminium bars, slides across the piano keyboard and Bogdan Ranković's surprising bass clarinet respirations intermittently break up the thematic development, which seems to have faint bossa nova and marching band inferences. Decorative without being delicate, the interjections and additions strengthen the polyphonic theme which is revived and telescoped until the equivalent to a film's end credits are heard.

Mezei may deny it, but the sounds he composed here could illuminate the message of some film. On its own though it's still fine, authentic modern music.