The Tre pezzi is part of a fairly large group of solo instrumental suites that Scelsi composed in the '50s, many of which bear simple, practically absent titles like this. In many ways, these pieces of the '50s can be viewed as studies for his later large ensemble and orchestral works. These Tre pezzi, normally performed on saxophone, happen to be among the best selections of that whole period. The suite evokes, especially in the latter two movements, the poetry of the lonely and ephemeral as solo instrumental music best can. Scelsi's music is often powerful, but little of it is as frankly tearful as Tre pezzi, not even the terrible struggle in Preghiera per un ombra is so heart-wrenching. It's odd, considering his habit of using earnest, exotic-sounding titles that such a deeply felt suite is essentially left untitled. But the lack is a grace; without the somewhat arbitrary filter of words like Anahit, or Yamaon coloring the listener's perception, the music can be more directly experienced. In all three pieces, to greater and lesser degrees, Scelsi pits mobile, lyrical writing against long-tone flat lines. The second movement is the most lyrical and pathetic. It begins in a fairly typical vein, making great use of crescendos, occasionally surprising the listener with a harmonic split note. But as it moves on, more and more long tones intrude, arresting the lyrical flow. The first movement is perhaps the most fascinating of all for the way it anticipates Scelsi's later original styles, crossed with a familiar, improvisatory vocabulary. Somewhat like Egyptian ney-flute, the lyrical moments are constantly referred back to direct statements of a home note, here at the top of the instrument's range. But Scelsi makes the technique entirely his own by bringing out its phenomenological nature. Through his rhythmic treatment of the technique, the striking, irregular long notes, and the lean, notey passages in the mid-register each make very separate, distinct impressions on the mind. At first, they seem to conflictingly erase each other, but eventually the impressions of each hover in the mind's ear. In the end, the listener is constantly hearing each as if through an image of the other. As if skipping back and forth in time, they become simultaneous. Aside from their haunting pathos, the Tre pezzi are a wonderful exploration of the function and meaning of the listener's memory in music.

© Donato Mancini, All Music Guide