Mary Lattimore is a harpist of numerous credits and considerable ability. Jeff Zeigler is a busy recording engineer and capable multi-instrumentalist. On Slant of Light, due out next week via the venerable constancy that is the Thrill Jockey label, these two first-rate Philadelphians come together to produce a worthy duo statement. Abstract yet approachable while expansive and concisely focused, Lattimore and Zeigler’s successful collaboration is a solid effort holding promise for the future.
Ironically for an instrument that can be such a formidable beast to lug around, the harp’s long history has been dominated by delicateness of tone. Many have played it, including the appropriately-named Harpo Marx, naturally to his own tuning, as a few notables have sought to broaden its range; one of the more recent practitioners is Mary Lattimore.
Over the last five years or so Lattimore has been quietly chalking up a heavyweight list of collaborators. Amongst them: Fursaxa, Kurt Vile, Sharon Van Etten, Jarvis Cocker, Meg Baird, and Thurston Moore, whose 2011 solo LP Demolished Thoughts provided my introduction to the harpist. However, it was her membership in The Valerie Project that foreshadowed Lattimore’s eventual musical breadth.
Succinctly, The Valerie Project’s sole ’07 release was an alternate score to Jaromil Jireš 1970 Czech film Valerie and Her Week of Wonders, an enduring cult movie derived from the 1945 novel of the same name by Jireš’ countryman Vítězslav Nezval. Comprised of ten Philadelphia-based musicians including Fursaxa leader Tara Burke and directed by Espers’ Greg Weeks, The Valerie Project is accurately assessed as a prime byproduct of last decade’s u-ground folk-rock experience.
One of the biggest successes spawned by that movement was the unlikely rise of Lattimore’s harp cohort Joanna Newsom, though beyond their choice of instrument the similarities between the two are mild at best. And no second fiddle, for Lattimore is certainly impressive on her unconventional axe; earlier in ’14 she was awarded a Pew Fellowship in the Arts.
Print/web evidence suggests she’s quite an engaging individual, as she expresses admiration not only for her contemporary Newsom but also offers enthusiasm for estimable predecessors such as jazz-harpist Dorothy Ashby and the great Downtown NYC avant-gardist Zeena Parkins. In fact, upon first reading of Lattimore’s team-up with Jeff Zeigler my immediate thoughts spanned back to OWT, Parkins terribly neglected late-‘80s duo with drummer and electronic specialist David Linton.
Slant of Light rapidly illuminates the differences between it and OWT’s solitary LP for Homestead, ‘89’s Good as Gold, though Zeigler also handles synthesizers. Unlike Linton, he plays guitar, most notably in the Philly group Arc in Round, and is additionally highly respected in the studio, having assisted Vile, The War on Drugs, Chris Forsyth, Purling Hiss, Nothing, and others.
After being asked by Lattimore to help in the making of her ’13 solo record The Withdrawing Room, Zeigler ended up lending synth to the disc’s lengthy “You’ll Be Fiiinnne.” Last December the duo laid down a live score for Philippe Garrel’s silent film from ‘68 Le Révélateur, a performance endorsed by the director that proved such a hit they will be touring with the picture later this year.
Slant of Light was documented over two days this past winter as a massive snowstorm ground Philadelphia to a temporary halt. Where their first meeting on tape resulted in nearly 25 minutes of studio-blended artistry, the selections here display a concision bred from true familiarity. “Welsh Corgis in the Snow” is a warm opener, Lattimore’s gentle plucking accented with cascading waves of synth as the music intermittently rises in forcefulness, harp notes resonating stronger as Zeigler envelops his partner’s playing in subtly increasing tendrils of coloration.
The cut finds the harpist’s glistening tones serving as an unusually attractive melodic anchoring presence as her counterpart supplies the suitably tender psychedelic drift. Alongside guitar and synth Zeigler also employs melodica on the track, and to positive effect; as it nears conclusion, the atmosphere gets appealingly spacey.
My initial thought on the title “The White Balloon” was that it might be a reference to heroic Iranian filmmaker Jafar Panahi’s feature debut, but upon a little digging the name of the terse piece was revealed to have been inspired by a photo of an airship taken by Lena Herzog, the dirigible’s flight the subject of her husband Werner’s ’04 movie The White Diamond.
On “The White Balloon” Zeigler’s guitar intertwines with Lattimore and as the pair glides forward in crisp unity swirls of electronics keep the proceedings from becoming too sedate. It must be said that much of Slant of Light’s pleasantness could accompany an unabashedly New Age-inclined journey deep into the Heart of Space (way out past Fripp and Eno’s Evening Star, a collab “Welsh Corgis in the Snow” slightly recalls).
Indeed, this is the modus operandi of “Echo Sounder,” which presents a thick sound field elevating methodically heavenward and simultaneously functioning as a featherbed for Lattimore’s tranquil strands and clusters of notes. It’s relaxing enough to meet the demands of some bearded and beaded fella hanging out in a garden with only wind chimes for company, but it’s also amply nervy to satisfy ears attuned to the Drone.
Much of that edge is soaked up by osmosis from “Tomorrow is a Million Years,” Slant of Light’s longest and most outward-bound journey. It’s also the LP’s strongest, coming fairy close to kicking up a racket, though nothing here is particularly abrasive. Again it emits a definite vibe of psychedelia, especially at the beginning.
Along the way that aura gradually attains a Modernist Classical tinge, triggering thoughts of the OST’s to both 2001 and Solaris, a circumstance underscoring the consistency of the album’s orientation toward the Milky Way as its non-trad spiritualist sensibility (which isn’t really Lattimore and Zeigler’s template anyway) floats adrift from the standard New Age mode to gravitate nearer the aural questing of harpist Alice Coltrane’s Journey to Satchinananda or for that matter her husband John’s Om, or even more aptly the Trane/Rashied Ali duo Interstellar Space.
Obviously this record is substantially different sonically. If reliably interesting and flashing excellence it frankly doesn’t reach the heights of those classics. To expand, it’s quickly apparent the principals have grown as a team; on The Withdrawing Room, Lattimore couldn’t hear Zeigler’s synth contributions as they happened. This clearly isn’t the case here, the disc exuding closeness suggestive of a jazz session.
But what Slant of Light lacks is what The Withdrawing Room got right (the intriguing work of painter Becky Suss adorns the covers of each); specifically, the benefits reaped from a longer duration. When it comes to playing this adept and sensitive (the thwarters of self-indulgence), extending is opportune, and it’s surely part of the reason they’ll soon be touring with the hour-long Garrel film.
In lieu of attending one of those shindigs, a combined LP/DVD package would be a fine turn of events. In its absence Slant of Light is welcome.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
B+
