Vibraphonist Martin Fabricius first met flautist Elsa Nilsson back in 2017 and it has taken this long for their paths to cross with instruments in hand and actually record.
As on last year’s album with Randi Pontopiddian, Martin is more than happy to allow his collaborator to take the lead which, considering Elsa’s unique approach to the instrument and her extraordinary range of tones, makes for a fascinating and rather disarming series of pieces.
As the album opens, so the flute is as light as air and can’t help but evoke misty mountaintops and Zen-like hideaways. It wavers in the cold air, but the sounds flow sweetly. There is an inherent air of mystery as the flute descends to the woodlands, its playful patter accompanied by the sparest of vibes as if they are afraid of disturbing the flighty flute. As the vibes descend, it feels like a dance; but with the flute taking a darker turn with some effects unexpectedly changing the tone of the instrument, but it is the gentle support of the vibes that allows this shapeshifting.
At points the flute sounds like a deeply muted trumpet and moves in a way that is distorted and angry, but also rather sneaky, with the vibes shrouded, echoing like raindrops in a cave. They seem to manifest themselves in different ways as the album progresses and the conversations that take place are not necessarily mutually understood, but often resort to a game of tag with nobody quite sure who is chasing whom.
As we near the end of Glaciers, so the pieces grow sparser, a lugubrious atmosphere of impending doom is upset by the most incredible vibe shimmer and the two instruments as they circle one another collapse into one another’s arms, spent for now and drifting away, becoming more and more distant, leaving the listener with echoes of what came before. It finally reverts to an echo of the opening section and then is gone, leaving us with a desire for more; a repeat performance that will never come.-Mr Olivetti-
