Ross Gentry - House as a Person

A Closer Listen

Next week we’ll take a deep breath and plunge into fall with another bottle of wine from VISUALS Wine’s Ritual of Senses Wine Club, along with Dark Sines’ The Space Time Paradox.  Today we’re pleased to present Ceremony of Seasons’ first non-alcoholic release and first cassette.  As Ross Gentry‘s September kicked off the seasonal series last autumn, he’s a perfect choice to receive this special treatment, which includes tapes wrapped in altar cloths, treated as something holy.

The idea of a house as a person is instantly appealing, and has been a subject of many children’s stories and horror novels, from the benign The Little House to the fairy tale-like Howl’s Moving Castle to the frightening House of Leaves.  We fall in love with our houses, especially the oldest, which have the most character.  They offer comfort and protection.  We miss them when we move, and drive by them to see how they are doing.  In order to remember them, we create little houses in our minds.

Gentry recorded his new album in his house, which deserves credit for co-authorship but is likely happy to be a muse.  There’s a tinge of sadness to some of the titles: “Missed Opportunities,” “Road to Nowhere” (not a Talking Heads cover).  The house creaks and moans from the very beginning, making its presence known.  What sounds disturbing to a new visitor may seem comforting to a resident, who grows acclimated to such sounds: cooling pings, radiator clanks, refrigerator hums.  By embedding them in ambient settings, Gentry makes the house a character in his sonic play.

The organ timbres of the opening track further the connection to holiness.  Toward the ending, a buried voice sings over electronic chimes.  This isn’t dark ambience, but neither is it light.  After a surge of accompanying voices (the house itself or its former residents), “Appalachian Stasis” adds drama and beats.  Life is teeming, even when we are not home.  What does your house do all day?  The concluding brass tones lift the song to a triumphant level.

The beats return on “Road to Nowhere” along with those distant, singing voices.  Their mystery lies just beyond the senses.  The string tones of “Eyesore” amplify the tension.  Has somebody said this about the house?  How will Gentry react?  Two options seem plausible: knock it down or bring it back to life.  The song ends abruptly, followed by “Paralysis of Choice,” in which the voices turn choral.  Is the house in trouble?  Does it need intervention?

The album concludes with “Gonna Die With a Hammer in My Hand.” which is very close to the title of a famous folk song about John Henry.  One might infer that the song is about determination, but given the context of House as a Person it may also mean love.  Dogs demand attention; cats demand food; houses demand fixing.  Home improvement is for many people a love language, but repairing a house might not mean “I love you, human” as much as it means, “I love you, house.”  Gentry may have fallen under the spell of his home, but if so he is happily haunted.  (Richard Allen)