Physical presence becomes an aural tide on Linnéa Talp’s Arch of Motion. The Swedish artist finds the stoic presence of in-between spaces and casts them into golden-hued drones. Using pipe organ as the primary instrument in these compositions, the music becomes the exhaled breath of someone finding their footing within the liminal glow.
Spread throughout Arch of Motion are cloaked, whispered harmonies. Talp weaves a solemn reverie of hushed air on the title track. The upper registers pirouette as foundational chord progressions billow in from below filling in the emptiness with patience and fortitude. Elongated gestures mine the depths where a mix of hope and doubt combine to charge the stillness of the magic hour. Crawling forward one grasp at a time may seem simple enough, but these sounds carry so much weight that we feel pinned in place.
Talp invited a host of improvising musicians to play on Arch of Motion, bringing color and texture to these stark pieces. Mariam Wallentin’s voice brings an otherworldly presence to opener, “To Whom.” In this short piece, her wordless vocals are a phantom searching for a way of corporeal manifestation. Wallentin returns on “Råsunda Kyrka (Exhale)” where the low, slow hum of Talp’s arrangements gives her a different air to breathe so that her voice becomes something caked in a lithe sadness clinging to the last bands of belief.
Graceful and opulent, “The Continuation” hovers above a feeling of clouded determination. Joined by Christer Bothén on bass clarinet and Martin Küchen on flute, Talp paints with a shimmer of elegance spread within the melody’s silhouette. A pensive vibration rises from the woodwinds, intertwining with the opaque timbre from Talp’s pipe organ, trying to find a way to hide within empty shadows. Arch of Motion unfolds slowly and with purpose, but in its careful explorations, Linnéa Talp reveals a new path forward.