A Closer Listen
In this unusual album, Helen Anahita Wilson not only produces sonic tributes to the members of the Solanaceae plant family; she provides them with a voice. Biodata from member plants is used to trigger certain instruments and sounds, with whom Wilson produces duets both electronic and organic. The mysterious nature of the family ~ represented in the clever alliteration of “magic, medicine, myth and mortality” ~ is extended to the allusive sounds.
The first surprise: every member of the nightshade family contains nicotine: not only the tobacco plant, but the eggplant, potato, pepper and gooseberry. In the opening piece, Wilson establishes a percussive pulse, quicker than one might expect for something called “Nicotine Hit,” backed by what sounds like a saw, likely triggered by the plant’s own communications. The final seconds fade like a heartbeat coming to a stop. But hold on; it turns out that nicotine in small doses can be healthy, especially when it comes to healing wounds!
Perhaps intentionally alluding to the AC/DC track by homonym, “Hel’s Bells” incorporates data from the ashwagandha plant, also known as the winter cherry or Indian ginseng. The plant has been thought to lower anxiety and aid sleep, although it “smells like a horse.” Using “junk shop bells,” Wilson produces a hallucinatory effect akin to a healing ritual or a dreaming state. One percussive piece follows another; “Aubergine Dream” is an ode to the “Moneymaker” eggplant, replete with microvoltage fluctuations that interact with sarangi to produce an electronic, beat-driven piece; an eggplant dance, if you will.
“Would You Like to Make a Mandragora” is the polar opposite of “Would You Like to Build a Snowman?”, dark and intriguing, including magical instructions from Jean-Baptiste Pitois’ The History and Practice of Magic (1870), biodata from the mandrake and speculative piano. While listening, one can sense magical forces swirling around. This makes “Jersey Royal,” the set’s shortest and jauntiest piece, arrive as a relief: a palette cleanser of joy, like that which accompanied the relatively recent discovery of the Solanaceae potato.
In contrast, the set’s longest piece, “The Devil’s Trumpet,” is enhanced by Amos Miller’s trombone, chronicling the toxic effects of the plant on those foolish enough to sample it. As the plant’s data is channeled into a drone, Miller plays first calmly, then wildly, then not at all as a church bell tolls in the background, a subtle foreboding. The church association is cemented in the closing track with organ and a Latin recitation of Psalm 114. Here we sense the holiness of nature, the mystery of myth and the inability of humanity to understand all of the properties of the plant kingdom, producing a humble awe akin to one’s relationship with a higher power. (Richard Allen)
Fri Oct 17 00:01:14 GMT 2025