By Néstor CASTIGLIONE

It could be argued that Beethoven’s art exploded like a dazzling supernova in the musical firmament, his art spreading disparate elements far and wide that eventually would coalesce into various independent and clashing galaxies.

The nebula in which the music of Kaikhosru Sorabji (1892 – 1988) inhabits is a solitary and forbidding one, dimly lit by the most esoteric tendencies of late Beethoven, Liszt and Busoni.

Despite his attractive post-Scriabenesque idiom, Sorabji remains beyond the reach of all but the most die-hard pianophiles. The composer’s self-imposed seclusion and decades-long ban on performances of his work bears some of the blame. But the sheer echorrhea of his scores, their length analogous only, perhaps, to the films of Béla Tarr or certain novels by William Gaddis, are unlike anything else in music and preclude wider popularity.

His most famous work, “Opus Clavicembalistucum” from 1930, is an exhaustive and exhausting exploration of the grammar of pianistic expression, pouring out in an unbroken torrent lasting approximately five hours. A comparative miniature next to later scores, such as the “Sequentia cyclica super Dies irae” and the “Organ Symphony No. 3,” each clocking in at seven and eight-and-a-half hours respectively.

But a very niche band of pianists brave the dangers of his music. Even delight in it.

“I grew up obsessed with piano music of exceptional difficulty,” pianist Brendan White recounted recently.

White will be performing the composer’s “Djâmi,” an early work lasting about 20 minutes, next Wednesday at the Glendale Noon Concerts. The piece is one which he has singled out as a favorite and will be his first public performance of the composer’s music.

“He said that he was very proud of this work. It is a kind of a halfway step in what he called the ‘perfumed garden night’ atmosphere he cultivated, a fantasy of Middle Eastern sound.”

White said that among the challenges a pianist must face with Sorabji is compelling listeners to ignore the legend and notoriety of its creator, and instead focus on the music.

“[Sorabji’s music] is a whole different kind of psychic landscape. [It’s] almost like it has something socially maladjusted about it. A performer has to get beyond the notes,” White said. “Sorabji inhabits an island of his own. That’s what he wanted.”

But White does find parallels and influences from Beethoven’s “Piano Sonata No. 32 in C minor, Op. 111,” the composer’s last essay in the genre. He’ll be performing that work at a Music at Noon concert in Pasadena on Wednesday, April 11.

“I actually think of Beethoven’s Op. 111 as inhabiting a pretty similar atmosphere of [Sorabji’s] music. It has this quality of sounding as if it emerged from deep within the composer’s mental landscape. It’s also the work of a recluse, albeit not a self-imposed one, as Beethoven was by this time totally deaf. I think it’s incredible that he could dig deep within himself and create something so sublime.”

White also explained that the technical challenges in performing late Beethoven are some ways “harder” than Sorabji’s.

“Essentially they’re theoretical and even impossible as they can never sound as good as [Beethoven] may have imagined it. It comes down to that spiritual aspect of the work. He’s not even concerned with the earthly in this music anymore. It’s so personal yet greater than all of us.”

Brendan White will be performing Sorabji’s “Djâmi” along with Debussy’s “Masques” and “Pagodes” as part of the Glendale Noon Concerts series at the Glendale City Church (610 E. California St., corner with Isabel Street) on April 4 from 12:10 p.m. – 12:40 p.m. He will follow this with a performance of Beethoven’s “Piano Sonata No. 32 in C minor, Op. 111” on April 11 at Pasadena Presbyterian Church’s (585 E. Colorado Blvd.) Music at Noon concerts. Admission at each of those concerts is free to the public. For more information, visit www.glendalenoonconcerts.blogspot.com or www.ppcmusic.org.

  Nestor CASTIGLIONE