Bryan Senti – Manu

Naïve

LA-based Bryan Senti has already placed his debut album Manu online, a post-classical string trio treatise that places minimal Western leanings within a fresh narrative which borrows from the indigenous sounds of his Latin American roots.

Finally it is receiving a vinyl release and well deserving of this honour it is, from the monochrome mystery of the cover image to the lush black RTI pressing.

The album opens with a feeling of solitude, but one that is a natural reaction to the world around us. With slow strokes and a distant tone, the trio mine very different seams to accomplish their union, an upper register sweetness from the violin emphasising the resigned lower register.

The variety of sounds eked from the violin, viola, cello and bass are kaleidoscopic, violin skittering like a bird on ice while the cello is more stately. The bass is often the anchor, but with a supreme gentleness allowing some pieces to drift as in a reverie.

The pictures opened up in the listener’s mind are often solitary but always epic, a grand scale with minimal input. A rhythm conjured from the body of an instrument plots a path through mountainous peaks while the violin puts on an aerial display, looking down over a landscape that is unspoilt yet welcoming, dramatic yet tranquil.

It is an exciting and diverse string exploration with unexpected textures, scraping and bouncing that give differing shades of movement, while at other times the momentum is carried by a deft selection of notes pieced together like a mosaic as each player drops in just what is required.

There is a sense of simplicity that belies the players’ skills; a wide-eyed wonder and a sensation of space, leaving plenty of fresh air around the notes, allowing the listener to truly savour them as they move around you, gently propelling you through the album, each piece a slight reaction to before, a proposition tied together by the players’ touch. The sparseness at times lends an abstraction in the drifting tones and evoked echoes, the bass ever languorous, spinning out the thread along which the other instruments play.

At other points, you feel the bass gently dictates, and like the Pied Piper tries to lead the bird-like cries of the violin and the more measured cello, but with enough freedom to allow them to disperse and regroup, finding and winding other figures around which fresh layers coalesce. The final piece here includes the Czech National Symphony Orchestra and while you might expect the sound to dramatically swell, it is not the case. Instead, the orchestra seems to subtly fill in some gaps, leading to a fuller and maybe more playful sound without becoming overbearing.

It is a really fine end to a delightfully played and sublimely produced selection and worthy of anyone’s time.

-Mr Olivetti-