Flourishing minimal composer Juho Toivonen returns with Kuun Sininen Rinki (‘Blue Circle of the Moon’), a four-track LP assembling recordings from two distinct moments in his recent work. Issued by Infinite Expanse, the release gathers previously unreleased material alongside pieces that first appeared in extremely limited CDr form, offering a glimpse into an early phase of Toivonen’s developing piano practice.
If you’ve spent time with Toivonen’s 2023 LP Kasveille ja eläimille, the A-side will feel like stepping further into the same hazy world. Recorded during the same sessions, these pieces capture a moment when the piano had only recently entered the centre of his work. Small melodic figures circle patiently through open space while overtones linger and dissolve. The title piece moves in slow, hypnotic cycles, while ‘Nuclear Boy Scout’ moves into far denser terrain, built from thick synthesizer tones and colliding field recordings, with the piano receding to a barely perceptible trace.
The B-side turns to two recordings originally issued in small numbers on the 2024 CDr Sellikehä, released through the Swedish imprint Förfall, part of the wider orbit around Discreet Music - which also released Toivonen’s most recent LPs, Sisarusten Toistuva Uni (2024) and Lapsikuninkaan Fanfaari (2025). The two pieces originally appeared there as extended studies loosely informed by the poetry of Edith Södergran. Here the pacing stretches further still: ‘Mitä on tapahtunut sadussa, on tapahtuva minullekin’ unfolds through widely spaced chords that hang in the air, while the closing ‘Punaista ja keltaista ja kaikki toiset värit’ moves slowly through shifting tonal colour.
Across the record the materials remain spare. Short melodic figures circle slowly through open space, the piano’s sustain carrying long trails of resonance while small harmonic shifts quietly reshape the atmosphere. Rather than pushing toward resolution, the pieces seem content to hover there, allowing time to stretch and settle. There are distant echoes here of the resonant piano minimalism explored by Charlemagne Palestine and the patient tonal drift of Yoshi Wada, while the blurred edges and tape-softened atmosphere occasionally recall the memory-haunted ambience associated with William Basinski or Grouper. Those familiar with this corner of minimal and ambient music will recognise the terrain.
Taken together, the recordings offer a snapshot of an early stage in Toivonen’s piano work. Listening back now, he reflects that he would no longer be able to recreate the moments captured here, hearing the release instead as a document of a particular phase in his practice and relationship with sound. In that sense, the record captures a particular moment in his playing.
