From Montreal, solo cassette Mer Bleue (NO LABEL) by Pierre-Yves Martel, all realised using his beloved viola da gamba. I’ve often remarked that it’s unusual to find this somewhat archaic instrument appearing in the context of new music, but on this occasion Martel has laid aside his experimental leanings and settled for a set of ten simple instrumentals, all quite melodic, and formed from what he calls “fragments and gestures”. Nothing over three minutes; at times we might be hearing greatest hits of Henry Purcell beamed in from an alternative universe. There’s only the slightest concession to modern ideas like syncopation, and instead Martel issues his plaints in a very deliberate, steady fashion. The prevailing sad mood is entirely intentional; he enjoy the “sombre and melancholic timbre” of the instrument, which might indeed be one of its inherent properties. The liner notes by writer J.F. Martel propose that all the music is inspired by a large stretch of boreal wetland in Ottawa, and represents an attempt to capture the “incorporeal cries and whispers” that await any visitor to this natural area. (30/06/2023)
