A Closer Listen
What if the trip to Everest were not about the summit? Two springs ago, composer Patrik Berg Almkvisth journeyed through Nepal to the famed mountain, stopping at base camp. The journey was not what he expected; it began with a local funeral and ended with the sight of the sun rising over Everest.
In the middle arrive intervals of wonder and joy, but also anger and disappointment. Despite the efforts of locals over time, trash litters the vast trail, a travesty transformed into sculpture by Leslie Leong, shown on the cover. Bodies remain unrecovered. Once-proud glaciers have receded. Might there still be room for revelation?
The album begins with field recordings of Kathmandu, the cheer and chimes of local streets melting into contemplative strings and piano as the artist attends a funeral for a stranger. The heights and depths of expectation are wrapped in this two-part suite, recalling the rhythms of life: not just adventurous life, but ordinary life as well. Every time the field recordings poke through the notes, the album feels grounded, despite the constant presence of the peak. “Flight to Lukla” introduces just a hint of wordless vocals, an act of worship; and then a soft rain begins to fall.
It’s a common experience to seek one thing and to find another; Almkvisth takes us through the process. After the peaceful start, nature suddenly breaks through; while few would list “seeing mountain goats” as a reason to travel to Nepal, the sight of such creatures causes the composer’s heart to turn, and in response, the music leaps as well. Percussion makes an impact for the first time; the music stops completely, then explodes in a manner akin to post-rock. Perhaps the trip will end up being worth it after all.
“Namche Sunrise” and “Dawa Choling Gompa” cede space to the dawn chorus, nudging the set in a more spiritual direction. The latter piece, incorporating the backdrop of the Tengboche Monastery, cements the association, bringing a different nuance to the album’s title: Life Above. While at first one assumes the title to refer to the peak, now one considers rising above everyday concerns, or having higher callings or peak experiences – which of course can happen on the ground. As the choir returns on “You Are Loved,” one thinks, what could be better than this?
Despite all this, Almkvisth will temporarily lose his sense of peace. First comes “Gorakshep (Dead Ravens”), a foreboding augury of low, swirling strings. Penultimate piece “Khumbu,” described as a “dark crescendo,” rages at the devastation caused by climate change. The composer encounters rubble where there once was ice and his heart momentarily hardens. In the title track, he relents, seeing the sunrise break over Everest, a vision of such power that he wonders at the fact that such beauty can still exist in the world. As he reaches this spiritual and emotional summit, Almkvisth reassesses his journey, and turns his heart – and his music – toward the light. (Richard Allen)
Sat Aug 30 00:01:30 GMT 2025