Olivia Block is a very interesting composer. Having played trumpet in groups led by Pauline Oliveros, it's tempting to hear a little of that composer's interest in environmental sound in her work, but she certainly has her own idiosyncratic approach to sound organization. Pure Gaze consists of a single, short piece that covers a huge amount of territory. The underlying basis consists of field recordings by Block of sounds natural and man-made, often subtly enhanced by electronics. One hears the click of rock on rock, perhaps the soft snap of cracking ice, chittering insects, and maybe a whisper of flame. All of this is presented in extremely vivid fashion, and may well have been quite enough for most musicians. But Block makes the oddest and, in hindsight, loveliest interjections of more traditionally musical arrangements. Organ-y chords drift to the surface, mingling with the found sounds, and halfway through a wind quintet echoes those tones with calm, drawn-out breaths. Some of these patches are very reminiscent of portions of Terry Riley's "Poppy Nogood" pieces, where phantom chords would appear from nowhere and then be subsumed into the thick mix. Toward the end, "Pure Gaze" ebbs into a delicious stew of LP scratches, gradually ceding to what sounds like a faraway, alien Jew's harp, and finally settles into the ambient air. Very beautiful and highly recommended.