Eleven tracks, 60-minutes. Five languages. Piano, violin, cello, voice, flutes and orchestra carry themes full of passion and openness.
The love and care that was put into “Red Sky Prairie” is evident in EVERY note. It literally pours out of this album and seeps deeply into our hearts like silken salve for the spirit. And there it remains.
– Dyan Garris, Zone Music Reporter, New Age CD, and Spirit Seeker Magazine
“Red Sky Prairie” is the extraordinarily beautiful debut album by the extraordinarily talented Sharon Fendrich. Remember that name, because I’m sure you’ll be hearing it a lot now and in the future. Passionate and emotive, I hope I am able to find the right words to effectively describe this work of musical magnificence. It’s THE best album I’ve heard this year, and I have heard a lot of extremely, outrageously beautiful music this year.
Sharon says, “The inspiration for the album, Red Sky Prairie came from a daydream I had about a place where the sky was filled with dusty, red-orange, luscious hues after the passing of a storm. A hushed early evening breeze had fallen upon a prairie.
I saw myself at various ages residing in a weather-worn white farmhouse, able to feel the emotions of the phases of life. A profound sensation of safety and peace permeated the air in this scene and the feeling has stayed with me ever since. Red Sky Prairie was born.”
Above, below, around, all glows with the warmth of freedom. A grove of trees afar proves an impermeable boundary.
A weather-worn, wooden farmhouse clad in tired whitewash stands rooted to its foundation despite the battering torment of storm upon storm. The weary porch offers just enough space to gaze upon the forever-open prairie.
An elderly woman has found contemplative comfort in the rocking chair. Its finish so closely resembles the peeling paint of the house that from a distance all three woman, chair, and house become one.
She wears a storied white nightdress, and a shawl of long silver hair warms her neck. Kneeling at her side, I rest my cheek on her knee and look out on the expanse. Her age-spotted hand slowly, lovingly strokes my hair. The scent of her gown is filled with acceptance.
The plink-plonk of a piano lingers and lures. The muted padding of my bare footsteps upon the plank floor echoes through the void and invites me to go deeper.
A lacquered upright brushed with memory and dust lives in the little front sitting room. The tiny fingers of the girl at the keys have given the ivory a light brown polish. Her hair and gown are much the same as mine. She’s peacefully wrapped in her musical escape.
I am an apparition in an antique-white nightdress, edged with handmade lace. The early evening breeze flits down the hallway, tickling my earthen hair.
Reflected in the solitary upstairs window, the eyes of a young woman are lost in a trance of longing, as she conjures a fantastic vision through the rippled glass.
Under the time-tested oak tree shading the porch, I turn slowly with outstretched arms, again and again. Its leaves whisper the stories of the emotions experienced in its shadow. My face tilts to the sky, like a child spinning in the grass.
This is Red Sky Prairie.