Fiona Rutherford - Seed

A Closer Listen

Occasionally we receive submissions that are so good that you assume it will have already got a great deal of praise. only to find that barely anybody has written about it. That’s true in this case: with the notable exception of a review by Seuras Og on At The Barrier, this extraordinarily high-quality album seems to have largely passed unnoticed.

Reader, that’s a real shame. This is a great album. Yes, it is admittedly difficult to “elevator pitch” it. “Accessible folk-influenced contemporary-classical harp-centred music” is the best I can come up with and that rambly, excessively hyphenated blurb doesn’t encompass all the tracks. Nevertheless it’s full of beauty, well composed and arranged, and performed with utmost confidence.

Fiona Rutherford, an Edinburgh-based Scottish harpist and composer, presents Seed, her full length solo debut, is made up of nine pieces that generally—though not always—centre around the harp. The thoughtful opener, “Orbit Audio”, gently eases us into Rutherford’s solo soundworld. In “The Buzz” the pace picks up and the harp is joined by flute, clarinet, ‘cello and double bass, an inspired combination that gracefully dance around one another exchanging phrases in a kaleidoscope of beauty. There are many lovely moments, but the ‘cello melody that begins at 3:15 is particularly gorgeous.

The harp disappears entirely in tracks four and five, where pianist Jenny Rutherford takes over, ably performing her sister’s compositions. Where “Fragile Transformations” exudes icy melancholy, “Wired” is a real grin-inducer. The energetic opening ostinato is full of caffeinated vigour. It jolts unpredictably, joined by sparkling melodies set in counterpoint with one another, occasionally punctuated by sforzando bass notes. At times the harmony veers into such a rich bitonality that it feels as if the piece might veer off the rails altogether, but it holds together somehow, full of frenetic life.

In the next two tracks the harp is joined by Amy Duncan‘s vocals and a string quintet. “Still Joy” is full of nature imagery, with a folk-like character vaguely reminiscent of Elgar’s Serenade for Strings. Swelling melodies pass between instruments display a mastery of orchestration that Elgar himself would have admired. “This One Night” is aptly named, a nocturnal counterpart to its predecessor, softly traversing a moonlight landscape.

In the final two tracks the harp takes centre stage once again. The title track “Seed” is quiet but feels full of potential, evoking the essence of Spring. “Jagged” is livelier, imbuing the harp with an edgy quality while the bowed electric bass adds a sense of darkness.

Fiona Rutherford deserves more recognition. Who knows what wonders will blossom from this Seed?