Runa Viggen’s Open Plains plays like a deliberate act of release. Across seven tracks, the Oslo and Los Angeles based pianist leans into a fluid blend of jazz, progressive rock, and classical composition and the record unfolds with a quiet confidence, as if these styles were always meant to coexist. The opener “Amaranth” sets the tone with a sense of suspended time, its melodic phrasing hinting at something ancient but still unsettled. By the time the trio locks in, with bassist Larry Steen and drummer Chris Wabich, the music feels grounded but never static. There is constant motion, yet it rarely tips into excess. Even at its most intricate, the playing remains focused on mood and narrative.
Viggen’s concept of a healing journey could have come across as heavy handed in less-skilled hands, but the album avoids that trap. Tracks like “The Tears of My Mother” and “Old Fields of War” carry emotional weight without spelling everything out. The tension resolves gradually, leading to “Rubicon,” which lands with a sense of hard earned clarity rather than triumph. What stands out most is Viggen’s restraint. For an album rooted in genre fusion, there is little clutter. Every shift in tone feels earned, every passage necessary. Open Plains does not just aim for transcendence, it sketches the work it takes to get there, one careful step at a time.
