A Closer Listen
Many cultures associate felinity with femininity. That is, people tend to think of cats as feminine, as opposed to dogs which are associated with more masculine traits. Cats are reserved, mysterious, sly– traditionally female characteristics contrary to the dog-like tendencies to be bold, loud, hyperactive. The Art of Doing Nothing: a feminist manifesto implores listeners to embrace “the way of the cat.” Rather than prioritizing masculine traits, the fundamentally feminist move is to learn to value “feminine” traits— even and especially those that are the hardest to accept, like indecision and doubt.
The opening track “How to Not Know” is a cacophony of urgent percussion behind blaring discordant brass tones. Amid the confusion, Stephanie Pan stridently sings, “It is critical in this moment not to panic” as (what sounds like) a wailing police siren kicks in. We recommend not playing this one while driving! This introduction to the album asks listeners to consider the role of stagnancy in a chaotic world. Does inaction have a rightful time and place? “The Way of the Cat,” long, slow and meandering but still uneasy, explores the question. Pan half-sings and half-speaks as she ponders. Showcasing her range, her vocals flow mellifluously and occasionally break out into sudden screams and cries. Part of “the way of the cat” is knowing when to take action and when not to, but another part is embracing extreme emotion when it comes. “Shock” features a soft soundscape against which Pan’s voice branches off into harmonizing female vocals. The voices discuss the discomfort yet importance of detaching the mind from ego and illusions. After dialing down, the musical intensity turns back up in “crashtest,” which swells above an urgent and uncomfortable backdrop into a kind of fanfare. This track accentuates vulnerability, and has an accompanying video in which Pan, seen from the shoulders up and bathed in red light, appears to be nude as she walks down a dark staircase followed by people who stare at her blankly. Pan’s face is also eerily expressionless, though her vocals are emotionally charged and stunningly operatic.
“How to be Dead Wrong” is an ironic guide to creating a self image based in the illusions of fantasy and desire. Instrumentals match the theme, growing more and more alarming and tense until the entire soundscape collapses in on itself. The album then comes to a climax with “recalibration,” in which horns blare and vocals quite literally scream and cry, throwing in a few four-letter-words for good measure. Pandemonium, this track stresses, must sometimes simply be endured. There is no other action to take but to radically accept pain, discomfort, and not knowing.
Early in the manifesto, Pan summarizes “the way of the cat:” “Loving being still. Knowing when to pounce.” The Art of Doing Nothing embodies the notion perfectly. Sometimes serene and peaceful, despite a constant underlying anxiety, it lets energy build up before erupting musically and emotionally, such that its peaks are evermore impressive. A lion does not run down its prey like a pack of wolves, constantly moving and pursuing. Instead, the lion waits for opportunity, considers, sits with its hunger. This way, no energy is wasted and its attacks are more powerful. Feline– and stereotypically feminine– behaviors based in passivity and indecision may have their place. Stephanie Pan and Ensemble Klang shed light on the merit of this kind of selective inaction. (Maya Merberg)
Fri May 17 00:01:00 GMT 2024