For an artist whose career has spanned film scores, orchestral recordings and experimental piano invention, Peter Manning Robinson’s latest single begins with something simpler: a melody at an acoustic piano.

“Pure Heartbreak,” the new classical single and cinematic music video from the Los Angeles-based pianist, unfolds without lyrics. There are no sung confessions or narrative cues. Instead, Robinson allows the piano to carry the weight of loss, fracture and reflection.

The piece anchors his upcoming neo-classical album “Excursions,” a collection written over three years and shaped by global upheaval and personal grief. Though Robinson is known as an Emmy Award-winning and multi-BMI Award-winning composer, he says this project feels different.

“The piece was originally written as a reaction to the horrific events in our country and the world,” Robinson said. “It began with the fires in Los Angeles, where I was evacuated twice and almost lost my home. Then the conflict in Gaza, then Iran and so much more. My heart was breaking and the piece was birthed. However, when my collaborator and the director of the video, Klaus Hoch, heard it, he personalized it. The video transformed the composition into a breakup with betrayal.”

The result is a work that exists on two levels. On record, “Pure Heartbreak” plays as a raw meditation, its melody rising and falling in a way that feels unsettled. On screen, filmmaker Klaus Hoch frames the music against the California desert, telling the story of two lovers parting ways.

Robinson did not set out to score a breakup. He set out to process what he was witnessing around him.

“As I mentioned previously, my reactions and responses to not only the world events but also my own trauma triggered intense emotions, and certainly grief was one of them,” he said. “Among these difficult events, my wonderful dog Coco passed at the end of the year after a valiant fight with chronic hepatitis. Having to take care of her with four medications a day and being up every hour for months certainly contributed to my grief. I’m still in the rejuvenation and renewal process, as is the world itself.”

A return to the piano

Robinson’s career has included composing for film and television, earning an Emmy for KABC’s “Above and Below” and five BMI Music Awards for “Without a Trace.” His orchestral works have been recorded by members of the London Philharmonic, the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra and Musica Nova. He is also the inventor of the Refractor Piano™, a reimagined acoustic instrument that allows him to create what he calls “Refracted Music” in live performance.

Yet “Excursions” marks a return to solo acoustic piano.

“Since my Refractor Piano™ starts with an actual acoustic piano before the refraction process, the shift was not as radical as one might think,” Robinson said. “However, I did feel that for this album, solo acoustic piano allowed me to focus on more melodic and lyrical compositions. As I delved deeper into this approach, I endeavored to strip any cleverness or pompous elements from the music. Klaus Hoch, who co-produced the collection, would give me feedback on the compositions, and I would refine them.”

That sense of stripping back is audible in “Pure Heartbreak.” The melody does not rush toward resolution. It lingers, sometimes fragile, sometimes unresolved.

“I don’t consciously think about or consider this aspect,” Robinson said when asked how he decides whether to let a phrase remain fragile rather than resolve it. “I let the music and the images guide me. I have never seen music, art or life as black and white. Some things are not resolvable. However, every event in our lives leads us to something else. Life is never a complete sentence.”

Walking away and returning

Robinson began playing piano at age 3 and was performing professionally by 12. Born in Chicago and raised between Vancouver and Los Angeles, he studied at USC and Berklee College of Music and performed with jazz musicians including Ernie Watts, Phil Woods and Freddie Hubbard.

In his early 20s, severe tendonitis interrupted that trajectory. He was told he might never perform live again. For nearly a decade, he could play for only two minutes at a time. The physical limitation reshaped his technique and, by his account, his identity.

“Although I always felt that no matter what I was told I would perform again, the decade of only being able to play for two minutes at a time certainly took its toll on me in every aspect,” Robinson said. “I saw myself only through my music. When it was taken away, I felt that I had nothing.”

Working with his late mentor Phil Cohen, Robinson relearned how to approach the keyboard. He recalls one exchange that shifted his perspective.

“He asked, ‘If you had to play a concert tomorrow, how would you do this?’ My initial reaction was that this was impossible. He then said, ‘Close your eyes and envision it.’ I replied, ‘I would have to play very slowly, lyrically and beautifully, with no attempt at speed or velocity.’ I then started crying because I realized that not only had I denied a large part of my emotions in my music, but in my life in general. Once I connected with that, I understood being grateful for everything that I have, no matter what. It changed not only my relationship to the piano, but my relationship with people and, of course, my life. This certainly helped me heal so much of my childhood trauma. Creating music that inspires people is an essential part of this.”

That history informs the restraint heard in “Pure Heartbreak.” The piece does not rely on technical display. Instead, it leans into space and pacing.

Solitude and projection

Though Robinson has worked with orchestras and large ensembles, “Excursions” centers on solitude.

“There’s great joy in working with like-minded people with a common goal, whether in music or in life,” he said. “There is also great joy in solitude, experiencing a beautiful vista, seeing the clouds, feeling the sun on your face, maybe alone but connected with everything in the universe. I am honored and grateful to create music in any combination or form.”

That openness extends to how he hopes listeners experience “Pure Heartbreak.”

“I would never tell someone else how or what to feel when they experience my music,” Robinson said. “The ancient Greeks had a saying, ‘When the words stop, the music begins.’ That is the power of instrumental music. The individual creates their own image. Each experience is valid and can be different, changing with time.”

In that sense, the heartbreak in the title is both specific and universal. For Robinson, it began with evacuation notices, headlines and personal loss. Through Hoch’s lens, it became a story of betrayal between two lovers. For listeners, it may become something else entirely.

After decades of awards and innovation, Robinson said he remains focused on the present moment rather than legacy.

“The work that I have just completed becomes the work that I am most proud of,” he said. “Everything that we experience and create in the past leads to the totality of the present. I do my best not to look back or imagine the future, whether in music or in life. However, I am incredibly grateful for the response that ‘Pure Heartbreak’ has generated and am excited to see where this leads me.”

For now, the piece stands as an entry point into “Excursions,” an album Robinson describes as a journey through despair, struggle and renewal. If “Pure Heartbreak” represents fracture, it also hints at continuation. The melody may not resolve neatly, but it moves forward, one phrase at a time.