Ballet – a form of dance that appears
irredeemably kitsch to the uninitiated, but gradually reveals
layers of pathos and intensity to those who care to delve a little
deeper. Connoisseurs of the art begin their career staring incredulously
at men prancing around in pink frocks and then, after accruing
an understanding of the relevant tropes, end it by gazing at the
very fabric of life threading around on what is less a stage and
more a cradle of the universe.
Alright I’m going overboard –
and I must admit that I’m not familiar with ballet at firsthand
– but I’m sure that this is the kind of process the
average enthusiast goes through, because it’s the same with
virtually every form of art (unless you’re the kind of moron
who spends their entire life loving exactly the same shit you
loved when you were a child). It’s also the same with ‘Cult
of Color,’ the original soundtrack album to the recent ballet
of the same name by composer Graham Reynolds and his loose collective
of collaborators, The Golden Arm Trio. With many of its passages
sounding almost absurd, and with many of its tracks being incongruent
in mood and sound, ‘Cult of Color’ may take several
exposures before it coheres in the minds of listeners, but when
it does – and I’m confident that it will – it
provides a unique musical experience.
Split into 11 tracks which cover the ballet’s
eleven scenes, the album contains several recurring motifs that
act as jumping off points for a diverse array of movements. Given
voice by an equally wide variety of instruments such as piano,
violin, cello, horns, electric guitar and glockenspiel, these
motifs and movements explore moods of danger, mystery, farce,
wonder and angst, twisting and turning from jazz to chamber music
to ambience and to post-rock. One moment Reynolds treats us to
something that sounds as if it’s charting a wide-eyed voyage
through dense Amazonian jungle (the tribal percussion of scene
3’s ‘Meeting the Mound’) and the next he’s
plunging us into the tense, string-heavy air of ‘Sesom and
His Disciples,’ replete with tremulous electric violin solo,
which sounds as though it could make Satan feel at home in a nunnery.
This offbeat spirit is best epitomized
by track 7, ‘The Miracle Machine,’ which seamlessly
and convincingly melds distant musical climes. Beginning with
playful horns and a mincing bass line, the mood suddenly shifts
and the piece tears into a sweeping, string-led theme of intrigue
and conspiracy before stealthily submerging itself in a shadowy
basement of incidental clinks, murmurs and echoes. It then starts
up again and culminates in grandiose fashion, only to reappear
as the climax of final track, ‘The Triumph of Color,’
which functions as a reprise of the album’s primary motifs,
all thrown into one giant melting pot of human emotion.
If you haven’t seen the ‘Cult
of Color: Call to Color,’ that’s no reason to pass
this soundtrack album by; I haven’t seen the ballet and
neither do I intend to, but I still regard this as one of the
most creative, unique and downright satisfying albums I’ve
heard all year. As a standalone piece it undoubtedly works, in
that it’s stirring, gripping, intoxicating and enlivening,
and it contains a wealth of varied and subtle elements, far too
many to elaborate upon in a single review (such as the bizarre
and recurring background recordings of an unidentified beast gorging
on what must be freshly slaughtered meat). But there’s one
thing that just doesn’t sit quite right with the album,
one question I simply have to ask: does liking the soundtrack
to a ballet make me a sissy? (Simon Chandler)
For
fans of: Mr. Bungle, The Lonesome Organist, Scenic, Masada, Ennio
Morricone, Blue States, Miasma & The Carousel of Headless
Horses.
|
