I wrote this review about the new Jane Weaver album and it doesn't seem to have been published, so in case it never sees the light of day, I'm running it here, just so it's out there in some form. I guess I had kind of an interesting theory/analogy I was working on. Not sure if it fully comes off, but it was worth a try.
The French post-impressionist painter Pierre Bonnard was,
according to legend which can be fairly well substantiated by historical
evidence and the opinions of his contemporaries, either quite fond of revising
and tinkering with his paintings, or somewhat incapable of knowing when to draw
a line under them and say that they were actually finished. The story goes that
he would even revisit paintings to continue work on them after they had been
hung and exhibited in museums during his lifetime. Picasso himself described
Bonnard's work as "a potpourri of indecision," while Henri Matisse
demurred at this opinion and declared that Bonnard was in fact "a rare and
courageous painter," "a great painter today and assuredly in the
future."
This may have little or nothing to
do with the work of Jane Weaver, but the fact remains that she is and has for
some time been a rather avid reviser of her own material. As far back as 2012
she issued Watchbird
Alluminate as a way of partially reconsidering her 2010
album The Fallen By
Watchbird. Then in 2015 she proceeded to revisit and expand upon
2014's Silver Globe with The Amber Light. And now
with Loops In The Secret
SocietyWeaver is giving a new treatment (described as an
"expansionist experiment") to songs from both The Silver Globe and Modern Kosmology (2017),
along with at least one more reconsideration of a song from the long-ago and
aforementioned Watchbird
Alluminate. This restless revisiting and re-working seems, in
Weaver's case, not to be an act of continuing and chronic indecision but rather
a continuing "investigation," as Dita Amory has previously described
Bonnard's work.
Weaver is not this chronically
uncertain about her recorded output, but it is striking that she does seem to
return quite regularly to work that one might otherwise assume to be settled
and finished. Put another way, Weaver seems to be offering with each revision
what Raymond Williams has called "thickened descriptions" of what has
gone before, or as Catherine Gallagher and Stephen Greenblatt have also said,
this time about Williams himself, "the exploration of the cul-de-sacs
where unrealized possibilities were stranded." This refusal to settle, or
to allow the work of art itself fully to settle, leaves every piece somewhat open
to future expansion and reframing, such that we might even now consider these
new versions as way stations even still, updates that might yet require further
qualification at a later date. It's a rather refreshing way of not allowing old
work to ossify, while also presenting new work as always already provisional
and subject to change and growth.
The question of whether you need
to re-connect all of the versions here to all of their original sources can
becomes, frankly, a little exhausting, and while a certain kind of musical
genealogy and forensic listening can be interesting and rewarding, the songs
presented here can certainly be enjoyed on their own merits without necessarily
requiring us to resort to a Weaver concordance. But just to get a few of those
little details out of the way, of the 22 tracks on Loops In The Secret Society
there are about three songs that originally appeared on The Silver Globe, roughly
five from Modern Kosmology,
a couple from other sources, and a series of shorter ambient pieces that serve
not so much as interludes but rather as connective tissue between the
variations of earlier songs.
If we begin with the opening track
as an example of how this works, "Element" was actually on
neither Modern Kosmology nor The Silver Globe, but was in
fact the last track on The
Architect EP from 2017. "The Architect" itself was a
track Modern Kosmology,
and was immediately followed on that album by a track called "Loops in the
Secret Society," which is of course the name of this album. That track
does not officially appear here in this lengthy re-imagining of Weaver's past
work. The point of this rather confusing genealogical digression is to
demonstrate some of the ways in which the rabbit hole of Weaver's oeuvre can
quickly become a bewildering warren. And how typically contrary and mischievous
of Weaver to begin what is ostensibly a reconsideration of her last two
official albums by revisiting a track that wasn't on either of them.
The reworking of
"Element" is, you might say, rather subtle, but nevertheless quite
distinctive. Whereas the version of the song on The Architect EP gets to
its motorik groove pretty quickly, the "Loops Variation," as it is
called here, takes a lot longer to find that groove, all while it is a full
minute shorter than its source track. In this context the song feels much more
like a form of ambient religious music that eventually finds its way to another
more secular place. It is in this case, as so often elsewhere, as if the
originals function as palimpsests upon which other songs are laid down, and
indeed the notion of the palimpsest might be a useful mode by which to approach
and understand this work, given that it seems to be subject to regular, if not
constant, overwriting (and by "overwriting" here one should not infer
an overabundance of writing, but rather a layering of songs on top of other
songs).
There are two things that stand
out here to make this album so very enjoyable and fulfilling: the sequencing
and the flow of the songs, and the increased clarity of these versions as
compared to their originals. The sequencing and the flow of the songs here is
extremely satisfying, as if re-casting earlier songs and punctuating them with
those connective ambient interludes allows them to breathe. The sequence of the
first six tracks is an instructive example of how the whole album works. The
opening out of "Elements" into a less urgent mode is followed by a
completely natural connector in "Milk Loop" (a reference, perhaps to
"Majic Milk" from Watchbird
Alluminate, which also gets the full treatment here later on).
"Milk Loop" devolves into a chiming but gentle cacophony that flows,
also quite organically, into the absolutely gorgeous and and ethereally echoing
"Arrows," originally from The
Silver Globe. "Arrows" is itself bookended by another
beautiful piece of ambient linkage in "Found Birds," which appears
twice here in different forms.
From there we move to the twinned
songs of "H>A>K" and "Did You See Butterflies," which
appeared in this very same sequence on Modern
Kosmology. The insistent pulse of "H>A>K" and the
continuing pulse of "Did You See Butterflies" mimics and revisits
their original context, but also achieves those two other critical effects
mentioned earlier. The almost continuous sequencing of the songs from one to
another makes the album feel like a single piece so that the listener can
easily become entirely lost in the album to the point where you might wonder if
you are hearing something new or a recurring motif that you heard a few songs
or a few moments before. Further, these new versions seem to achieve a richness
and clarity that the earlier versions, only in hindsight, appear to have
lacked. There didn't seem, for example, to have been anything at all wrong with
the original version of "Arrows," but the version here seems to have
achieved a new clarity as well as it is, along with its counterparts, fully
integrated into the fabric of the current project, in service of something
bigger than itself.
And lest you think that the
seamless sequencing and flow of the album might flatten out the experience of
the songs, there are certainly moments of planned dissonance that keep you from
complete transcendence that might otherwise masquerade as a kind of zoning out.
The clatter of the 22-second "Sun House" gives way to the very pretty
"Loops Variation" of "Sun House," which is only a prelude
to Silver Globe's "Mission
Desire," whose version here is more rattle than hum, thus ensuring our
continued attention. Nevertheless, the suite of songs from "Battle Ropes"
to the recurrence of "Found Birds" (both versions are deeply resonant
and oscillating sequences of electronic chords that swell deliciously as they
lap at the shores of the fuller-length songs around them) and then to
"Slow Motion" and "Margins" is just about aurally perfect.
Indeed "Slow Motion," from Modern
Kosmology, may be, along with The Amber Light's "I Need a
Connection" Weaver's high water mark, and its extended and expanded
treatment here is quite sublime. This may be in part due to Weaver's ongoing
collaboration with her longtime partner and veteran sound genius Andy Votel,
who is described here as one of her "co-conspirators."
It is hard to say definitively
whether some, any or all of these songs are "better" or
"worse" than versions you may have heard elsewhere in other settings.
For example "Cells", from The
Silver Globe, is a good bit longer here, whereas its original
sounds quieter and somewhat less confident, whereas "Ravenspoint,"
from Modern Kosmologyfeels
somewhat slighter and dronier here than in its previous instantiation, but it
also feels less fussy now. The "Loops Variation" of "Majic
Milk," originally from Watchbird
Alluminate, seems here more like an ambient exploration than the
much folkier version that preceded it. But if we begin to engage in this this
kind of side-by-side comparison of the versionings, we may begin to subject
ourselves as listeners to the kind of indecision of which Picasso famously
accused Bonnard, as if the artistic decision as to when a work is "finished"
has become a contagion now contracted by the audience. So not only does this
seem like a rather pointless exercise that can detract from the experience of
listening to Loops In The
Secret Society, it can also serve to validate what seems like
a pretty invalid criticism. This music might better be received and approached
as a kind of gestalt to
which the best response is mere surrender, and an acknowledgment that this is
a sui generis musical
experience, and that on occasion it approaches the mystical and the sacred, as
the "secret society" of the album's title might lead us to infer.
No comments:
Post a Comment