The latest Rothko release, initially a cassette through Jukebox Heart and now a download through Trace, finds Mark Beazley in an even more contemplative mood than last year’s Make Space Speak.
Spread over six tracks and forty minutes, there is far less reliance on the bass as rhythmic instrument on Bury My Heart In The Mountains, with the addition of found sounds, some of which were recorded in the Norfolk village of Brooke, and synthesiser turning these pieces into wildly expansive yet intensely slow-burning snapshots of the distant titular mountains.
The frustrated despair of 2018’s Blood Demands More Blood and the unsettled reflection of 2019’s Refuge For Abandoned Souls seem to have dissipated into a languid peace, the synth tones of opener “Monte San Giorgio” reflecting the shadowy landscape on the cover with the shimmering horizon of bass taking time to appear. There is nobody else that sounds like this and after the gradual return to wonder encompassing the last three albums, this might be the ultimate reflection of inner consciousness, a glacial calm overwhelming the proceedings.That calm has settled, echo and silence cut with a thrilling buzz as warm chords envelop, underpinned by so many different textures, the synths generating unexpected distance, glimpses in the gaps of the mist and the eleven-minute opener is a grand evocation of the artist’s name, focussing on details and then drawing back, fully immersed in the whole.
The bark of the notes and the rush of the strings on “Lyskamm” are distanced and echoing with a gothic grandeur. The fullness of the sound here is extraordinary, each note lingering, scintillating and then transforming. I was reminded of the bass tone of In Camera but dissected and studied, and the movement here is so slow that it could be measured in years. There is an elemental atmosphere on these tracks, completely removed from the minutiae of the day to day. Captured pigeon calls on “Monte San Salvatore” illuminate the essence and entwine rhythmically with the purity of the bass. It comes on like a dip in an undiscovered pool, surrounding and soothing you. At points, it is so spare it is like a reverie, a dreamlike imagining becoming briefly solid then dissipating again.It is interesting how little reliance there is on the usual rhythmic sway this time around, so when it does arrive as on “Säntis”, it feels much more forceful and incisive but culminating in a shorter piece, while the following “Monte Tamaro” extends again, glistening with cave-like washes. Sparkles of sunlight enter in cracks and highlight the ancient distant dripping of unseen rivulets. Anything solid doesn’t stay that way for long as it dissolves into light. This absolute sense of serenity comes to a conclusion on brief closer “Monte Brè” and then the real world gradually reappears and the spell is broken.
Once again Mark has treated us to a sensual delight that holds us gently but takes us great distances with irresistible charm. An essential addition to the discography.-Mr Olivetti-
