Jessica Pavone - Clamor

The Quietus

Jessica Pavone’s Clamor evolved around 2022, written for a six-person ensemble and bassoon soloist, featuring four movements; ‘Neolttwigi’, ‘Nu Shu (part 1)’, ‘Nu Shu (part 2)’, and ‘Bloom’, each named for an invention that women created to subvert rules restricting their freedoms. It builds on some foundation stones from 2021’s Lull, which highlighted different singular styles, while still serving the ensemble. Thematically, and philosophically, there is a centring of “women’s work” in these four compositions, an exploration of how we value things, how we create, and how we survive.

The ensemble for Clamor comprises violinists Aimée Niemann and Charlote Munn-Wood, violists Abby Swidler and Pavone herself, cellist Mariel Roberts, double bassist Shayna Dulberger, and bassoonist Katherine Young, a player who Pavone has a long-standing shorthand with. In one sense all the pieces mirror the principle of the ‘Neolttwigi’, or the 17th-century see-saw that Pavone stumbled upon during her research. In this period, Korean women invented the standing see-saw to help them see beyond the confines of the properties they lived in, creating another world out of confinement.

‘Neolttwigi’ has a sway and a swing to it, its rhythm mirroring the see-saw, there is a sense of the ominous, but then the piece starts to sound like it is glowing, as its radiance deepens and unfurls over time. It continually refers to discord, but resolves; cinematic in scope, and triumphant in execution, it folds out in such an interesting way, at times sounding like white noise, or an old radio broadcast.

‘Nu Shu (part 1)’ begins as a kind of warning call, bringing to mind the sound of a submarine, conjuring elements of electronic music, and shows just how creatively the bassoon can be used. Folding in elements of industrial, with nods to the natural world, and the sound of breaths which suggests the physical, as well as emotional labour of this endeavour. ‘Nu Shu (part 2)’ continues the journey of this secret language that Chinese women evolved, a separate written language, with ‘Nu Shu’ roughly translating to “female writing”. There is an eerie skittering quality that weaves right across this piece, producing a tension, a compelling push and pull. Both of these movements emerged from Young’s solo language on her instrument, wonderfully harnessing the bassoon and its low end, and in the context of the ensemble yields a transcendent beauty.

‘Bloom’ opens in rootedness, taking its cue from Pavone’s research into Amelia Bloomer who created the bloomer during the Victorian dress reform. It opens with a melody that sounds like an old folk song, the air so sad and true which opens out to somewhere more optimistic, and yet there is still a kind of leavening, with drones that bring us back to a familiar sense of tension, it is an exercise in pure possibility.

Clamor conveys the sense that while the old warring is still around, it will not be all-conquering. It is a cohesive, democratic, exciting and sensual body of work, with Pavone’s approach acting as a different kind of metronome, one that is about playing with time, inviting the players to take us somewhere more naturally emotional. It trades on a trust in the players’ talent and experience, trusting each to their own intuition, harnessing an almost Emersonian sense of the individual, yet still achieving a potent, collective unity.

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A Closer Listen

Every day is a school day at A Closer Listen, mainly thanks to the sleeve notes and press releases for the albums sent to us. A few artists opt for numeric track listings and minimal explanation behind the work, allowing us room to wonder and create our own interpretation from scratch. Some albums send us off to Google Translate to literally interpret the track titles in the hope of further enlightenment. Sometimes – and anecdotally, it’s often the Modern Composition records – a full explanation of the album is provided, from title to individual movements, and so on. We can still draw our own interpretations, of course, but there are benefits to learning about an artist’s motivation as a way into the record.

So it is with Clamor, the wonderful new album for string sextet from violist and composer Jessica Pavone. She titles the four movements after innovations created by women to circumvent male obstructions. The cover art is a giveaway but even then I didn’t expect the inspiration for the closing track “Bloom” to be bloomers, the trousers worn by Victorian-era women as an alternative to constricting dresses. The garment was named after Mrs Amelia Bloomer, a magazine editor and social reformer, who introduced the item to her readership. However, all the background information doesn’t feel like an obvious fit for the piece. “Bloom” opens with a solo cello before drifting into a more drone-based work, the strings subtly shifting against each other; perhaps it was written to capture Mrs Bloomer’s character rather than the garment itself. But the piece becomes more strident and determined at its conclusion as if marching out with fresh confidence garnered from the bloomers.

The correlation between inspiration and composition in “Neolttwigi” is more pronounced. The strings saw and sway, gently rising and falling. Occasionally, there is a flutter from one of the instruments – a bird flying away, perhaps – placing the piece outside. The rhythm (and the title) of “Neolttwigi” comes from the Korean standing seesaw utilised by women to see outside garden walls. Tradition forbade women from leaving their property during the day, so the seesaw – effectively a springboard – provided the height to see beyond the walls that held them. If anybody questioned this, the need for exercise would no doubt suffice as an excuse. The piece is a hypnotic way into Clamor; the slow pulse and the airiness of the arrangement perfectly capture the image of an outdoor seesaw.

Pavone adds Katherine Young’s bassoon into the mix for the two-part “Nu Shu”. Named after the secret language developed by Chinese women forbidden to attend school, there is a dialogue between woodwind and strings. Young’s playing is sometimes graceful, but often there is an almost frantic energy – you can hear her fingers tap on the keys – as if she is bursting to convey news and knowledge. In the second part of the piece, the players abandon the strings altogether for a percussive dialogue, creating a secret communion within the string sextet. This element of the composition and arrangement highlights Pavone’s skill at creating a story within these movements. We can appreciate the music without knowing the inspiration, but these are stories worth knowing and investigating further – meaning Clamor succeeds on multiple levels. (Jeremy Bye)