I have never been to the Arcadia National Park, which, according to the preface, triggered the vocalist’s feelings and brought a spark that fired this music. So, to understand better and connect deeper I looked at the pictures before I even looked at the titles or listened to the music. The beauty of the place instantly awakened my memories of all the beauty of nature I was lucky to encounter. And then, I was ready to listen.
It hit me with surprise when I heard an opening Despair, Zbigniew Namyslowski tune, recorded 5 years before I was born and one of those which I grew with and which shaped my taste and paved my path to jazz. She found in this music a very profound trace of sadness, hidden in the rhythm, which he often found in Polish traditional folk tunes and explored throughout his entire career. Then, she blended it with the Chinese classical opera lyrics, with a tragic libretto referring to the loss of the beloved Love, the concubine on that occasion. It was made stunningly with full voice-scale exploration being used on the bottom of the scale when scatting, and with high pitch registers when she hit the microtones of the Chinese counterpart. Her follows of the melody of the Kujaviak (traditional Polish Dance) and the use of it as a driving power for the rise of fast tempos and engages all strings in the band and the drummer into a racing emotional tirade is a modus vivendi behind the striking power that her interpretation brings.
Following Underground Dance is a lovely tune to show Annie’s vocal versatility. The approach to the melody reminds me of another Polish vocalist Urszula Dudziak, whose peak of the carrier parallels with the mood of the opener, and with its style. And to my ears, and all the surprise, it remains in the Polish folklore bucolic melodicism. On the instrumental side, the horns’ interaction with the accordion creates unusual textures, deepening the feeling of a vast affair with Balkan cultural heritage.
And then, the Lullaby comes, from The Rosemary’s Baby, again throwing me back to Krzysztof Komeda music, which will stay alive in my heart till the end. Here she comes close to the original and doesn’t play with tempos, but just sings the lead motif with almost infantile simplicity, only with a guitar accompaniment, it gives the melody a lot of depth and fondness. The strike comes when she repeats the lyrics in Chinese, again engaging strings and bringing a sentimental sense into the tune. Just a brilliant way she is capable of grabbing what she needs from both Oriental and Western traditions, which shaped her and blended it into her very own voice. The fact that the band is equally culturally bipolar is vastly responsible for the feeling of authenticity that the recording throws into the listener’s face.
Güle Güle Istanbul, coming after starts almost like Spanish Flamenco, with the words introducing the subject. As the song I about farewell, the bowing of the violins sets up a tempo for the outer journey. It brings me the memory of Reich’s Different Trains, although this train doesn’t head the eternity. The breaks, bring back the melody and accordion-played tunes are deeply rooted in the Mediterranean tradition.
Finally, we hit the Climax, the four-part Guardian Suite. It starts with a declámate intro, which slides on the drumming framework, and then moves towards the vocal parts with orchestral brakes and gentle piano melody in the background, giving the vocalist the plot to show off her multiple sides. From the spoken words, carrying heavy meaning messages, to repetitive vocal lines, focused on showing the path to rescue, for humanity, when it only could be sensitive enough to focus on the beauty instead of the profit.
Here is a lot going on in the multiple parts of the suite. I love the framework set by the young Japanese drummer. The multiple textures of the piano, also appealing in a very percussive way and the layers of beauty brought by the strings and the reeds are like the fogs over the changing constantly orchestral landscape. Cold and pitchy guitar lines still anchor us in the harmony though. The Lullaby motif is coming back, and it also is multi-faced. I am surprised by Annie’s vocal skills on the one side, but the arsenal of expressions on the other. She did her homework more than well and adapted to her Art almost everything that happened in vocal music during the last 50 years I carefully followed. I can hear the techniques that Meredith Monk first introduced, then obvious jazz attributes of singing, including scatt, which is not over-used. I can trace the inspiration of Lena Willemark’s spacious and deeply going Scandinavian way of phrasing, as well as free and experimental paths aside, clearly inspired by Vocal artists like Lori Anderson, Lotte Lenia, Ute Lemper, or Lauren Newton. Or twisted quirky humorous lines, aka Cathy Barbarian or Dagmar Krause. I could carry on all day long, but it would be better if you listened for yourself. Yet to sum it all up, saying that the band is excellent, would be an understatement. I will be watching closely her future outcome.