A Closer Listen
It would be difficult to choose the most appealing aspect of Guy Buttery‘s Orchestrations. Is it the fact that a tree is planted for every purchase? Is it the international flavor of the 17 collaborators, who hail from ten different countries? Is it the chance to hear Buttery’s compositions fleshed out? Fortunately, we need only choose where to begin.
The opening track references a famous aphorism: “there are three sides to every story: my side, your side and the truth.” “Two Chords and a Truth” (feat. Mudassir Khan) allows these chords to be examined from different angles as they twist and turn, revealing complementary aspects, listening to each other and reacting with respect. What if the same held true for personal and societal discourse? The very existence of such a track serves as a metaphor, an example and a plea. For six minutes, Durban (South Africa) and New Delhi are in conversation, and find a shared musical language.
From this point forward, the set continues to travel around the world, or perhaps more properly, establish lines of communication: little embassies of sound. The lines extend back to Paul Simon’s Graceland (1986) and to Peter Gabriel’s Real World label (founded in 1989). The ability, and more importantly, desire to communicate across cultures is of crucial importance in the current climate. The two-part “December Poems” begins with Buttery alone, but expands to include Chris Letcher’s orchestrations, mirroring the album’s title while serving as an example of mutual musical benefit. The track originally appeared on Songs from the Cane Fields as a solo exercise, then again on One Morning in Gurgaon with collaborators from New Delhi. Buttery has been working on some of these tracks for years, and there are no definitive versions, only different expressions.
In the two-part “On Saturday Afternoons in 1998 (feat. Julian Sartorius),” a sitar dives head-first into a sea of strings and learns to swim. “The Mending (feat. The Gqeberha String Quartet)” is one of the album’s sweetest pieces, both plucked and bowed, Formerly a trio, the group has expanded along with Buttery’s sound; an earlier tour presaged the current alignment. A surge at the four-minute mark is particularly exuberant. From here, the ripples reach New York, as the composer teams with Kaki King for “Kya Baat,” another piece that has been making the rounds for years.
Now let’s talk about the trees. The artist is in the process of seeding and planting an entire forest, “quietly rehabilitating a stretch of river in the KwaZulu-Natal Midlands.” While the project may take decades, it’s not unfeasible; it will need only dedication and consistency. Those who buy the album will also be purchasing a tree, and Buttery will be happy to send a photograph of said tree from his own mobile device, if desired. The same healing embodied in the music is applied to the land. The rush of strings and drums in “I Know This Place — Pt. 2 (feat. Derek Gripper & Jonno Sweetman)” quickens the heart; the idea of making the world a better place nourishes the soul.
Thirteen years ago, Buttery first heard what his pieces would sound like when performed with a 52-piece orchestra. As a solo guitar piece can become an orchestra, as a seed can become a forest, so can an idea become a movement, a truth revealed between two chords. (Richard Allen)
Tue Feb 18 00:01:43 GMT 2025