Though his résumé holds assorted accomplishments, Roger O’Donnell is best known as keyboardist for The Cure. Along with a series of solo albums, Julia Kent is a cellist noted for her contribution to Antony and the Johnsons. Love and Other Tragedies depicts their deepening creative partnership; beautiful but never syrupy and emotionally resonant without succumbing to the overwrought, aficionados of top-flight instrumentalism should take note, particularly partisans of chamber classical. It’s available digitally May 29th and on vinyl June 26th via 99X/10.
Roger O’Donnell’s reputation might rest upon his role in a true juggernaut of Alt-Goth, but he’s been on the scene since ’76, his first paying gig backing up the God of Hellfire himself Arthur Brown. Subsequently, he became a touring member of Thompson Twins, The Psychedelic Furs, and Berlin; a more ‘80s-drenched trifecta is frankly difficult to imagine. O’Donnell’s initial involvement with The Cure was also in the performance capacity; he joined in ’87 for the Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me road trip and stuck around for the recording of ‘89’s Disintegration and a whole lot more.
Vancouver BC-born and NYC-based Julia Kent may not brandish as high a profile as O’Donnell, but past collaborations distinguish her as a veteran; before lending her cello to Antony and the Johnsons’ 2005 Mercury Prize-winning I Am a Bird Now and it’s ’09 follow-up The Crying Light, she was a charter member of dark-hued cello-driven rock act Rasputina, her talents figuring in their two ‘90s efforts for Columbia.
Over the past decade O’Donnell and Kent have largely been busy with solo work. He’s released a string of discs first through Great Society and then 99X/10, the imprint he founded with longtime partner and collaborator Erin Lang; they include ’06’s Moog-focused The Truth in Me and ‘10’s Piano Formations. Issuing her solo debut Delay in ’07 on Shayo, Kent has completed three albums since, most recently ‘13’s Character on The Leaf Label.
O’Donnell and Kent’s original connection directly relates to Love and Other Tragedies, the pair having contributed an early version of their reimagining of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov’s symmponic suite Scheherazade, of course itself based on that classic of unbridled yarn-spinning One Thousand and One Nights, to The Post Romantic Empire Album, a compilation of reinterpretations instigated by photographer Giulio Di Mauro in 2013.
The decision to adapt two more tales prolonged their long-distance cooperation, O’Donnell suggesting Tristan and Isolde and Kent Orpheus and Eurydice; he wrote the music, three-part suites for his piano and two to four cellos, all played by Kent, and then sent the piano files and scores from Devon, England to be recorded in her New York studio. Mixed by Paul Corkett and mastered by Guy Davie, the finished work’s vibrancy is immediately impressive. “Tristan,” the opening suite’s first entry, is shaped by the combination of Kent’s attractive bowing and O’Donnell’s contemplative handiwork.
There is subtle toughness in her playing that’s enhanced by the closeness of the recording and broadened further by the adroitness in his delivery as the piece momentarily darkens mid-way through. It’s a sound certainly reminiscent of small ensemble classical, though it’s perhaps a bit more inviting than the chamber norm. Plus, it’s not in thrall to virtuosity like some conservatory-based stuff that’s made my acquaintance.
“Isolde” illustrates the duo’s solid grip on sustained mood, their objective heightened by the astute utilization of the studio, the layering of strings producing a wholly organic intensity. And when Kent intermittently pauses, her absence emphasizes the crisp, spare execution of O’Donnell in excellent fashion.
In terms of the overall theme of the disc the Tristan and Isolde suite would serve splendidly while embracing and canoodling with another on a couch; it’s appropriately subtitled “Love and Devotion.” And yet Love and Other Tragedies doesn’t misstep into the realms of the innocuous or simply fade into the background; “Marke” is again quite pretty, but the bowing remains robust and the keyboard offers an understated melody; it culminates with Kent mirroring his recurring, memorably minimal line in pizzicato style.
Portions of the Scheherazade section are understandably less inclined toward gorgeousness, but the suite doesn’t lack in beauty, and the subtitle “Le Triomphe de L’Amour sur La Haine” reinforces comprehension of this pillar of Early Lit; complementing humanity’s insatiable desire for stories is the titular heroine’s cunning plan, her stories saving the lives of 1,001 women as it tamed the murderous impulses of a cuckolded king.
“Le Roi” begins in relative tranquility only to undergo an increase in tension throughout; however, the development is gradual and non-disruptive, and it transitions smoothly into “Le Princesse,” Love and Other Tragedies’ melodic centerpiece. Of the nine selections, it’s the one most deeply employing pop structure; lyrics could be easily applied but are not missed.
This is in part due to how the cello stands in for a vocalist, though the dangers of encroaching banality or corniness are evaded. Instead, an almost cinematic theme coheres, an unsurprising circumstance given the number of film scores in Kent’s credit; additionally, a cut from Delay was borrowed by director Paolo Sorrentino for This Must Be the Place.
The emotional crescendo of “Les Duex” also evinces movie-like flair as Kent and O’Donnell manage to sidestep the strings and keys-derived approximation of sincerity and smartness frequently burdening indie flick soundtracks. In place of bland cutesiness, the music’s consistent mingling of acumen and depth is highlighted by its literary bona fides, O’Donnell having previously completed works inspired by the painting of David Hockey, and with Adam Donen, the writing of Thomas Bernhard.
As anybody familiar with Orpheus and Eurydice (herein subtitled “L’Amore Cieco per Sempre Perduto”) knows, a happy ending is not in the cards. And perhaps the twosome’s biggest achievement across these compositions is the avoidance of the maudlin. As evidence, “La Ninfa” spotlights the pianist at his most appealing. But it’s not as if they are playing it safe; the overlapped textures in the succinct “Romanza” are infused with an apt level of achiness as “Il Regno Dei Morti” contains an undercurrent of foreboding. Deftly shifting into a mournful tone, its implicit range closes the LP.
Heavy-duty Cure heads might want to sample Love and Other Tragedies before buying, though I actually see no reason why many in the group’s fanclub won’t dig this album, especially if they’ve already cozied up to O’Donnell’s earlier material. Folks into Kent’s oeuvre can jump into this very fine record without hesitation.
GRADED ON A CURVE:
A-
