From the Mouth of the Sun - Valley of the Hummingbirds

A Closer Listen

Our second Lost Tribe Sound review in two days, Valley of the Hummingbirds is a piece of the label’s series Maps to Where the Poison Grows, along with Claire Deak’s Sotto Voice and nine other discs, all set for release this year.  When playing multiple albums in a row, one can begin to see how they relate.  Each  of these two albums uses static and drone, although Deak’s album falls just within the realm of ambience, while From the Mouth of the Sun‘s album travels across the border into modern composition.  Each displays melancholic strings.  Dag Rosenqvist and Aaron Martin add drums.  This was certainly a boon to the dancers, moving to the choreography of Danae & Dionysios.  In the twemty-minute opener “The Herd (Murmuration),” the volume builds from near-silence to a maturation of strings, buzzes and beats.  One can picture the flock, a small gathering at first, expanding to the murmuration of the title, performing elaborate dances in the air as the dancers on the earth imitate their movements.

“The Medusa” is less frightening than one might imagine, although the early parts contain some foreboding noises.  Instead, the composition is reflective, suggesting Medusa staring into Perseus’ shield.  What thoughts may have surfaced in the split second between realization and beheading?  The gentle piano provides dignity to the woman considered by many to be a monster.  The Greek choreographers are not content to let her remain so.  When a pulse develops late in the piece, one imagines the dancers, mournful, the concept of “hero” overturned, the closing bells a gift.

“Dandelion” extends the theme of transformation.  Like the opener, the closer starts off humble, soft and slow, growing leaves.  The piano is the first flash of yellow, moving from background to foreground.  In the sixth minute, a drone visits like pollinating bees, then vanishes in an instant.  The same fate soon befalls the piano, leaving only the strings.  Does one ever catch the moment when yellow turns to white, the seeds having packed their bags, waiting for a friendly breeze?

Valley of the Hummingbirds is not as immediate as prior works.  The album is patient, each of the three tracks building to a peak.  The theatre component has broadened the duo’s sonic horizons, while their music retains the elements their fans have come to cherish.  (Richard Allen)