Conor Walsh wrote his heart in minimalist piano compositions. Described in the press as ‘meticulously crafted’ and ‘genuinely spellbinding’, his music came from a practice of non-directedness, directing us only to transcendence from our quotidian existence. This musical reverie celebrates the work Conor left behind when he died tragically of a heart attack aged 36, just when his music was beginning to flow out into the world. It pulses with the influences that went into the creation of his art – the windings of the river Moy, the human traffic of a small Mayo town, the migratory movements of swallows, a creaking 200-year-old hotel, the maternal melodies of his childhood.