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Nat Bartsch: Forever More As we enter 2020's final months, thoughts invariably begin to turn to candidates for textura's year-end ‘Best of' selections and the very real possibility that Nat Bartsch's Forever More will be one of them. This exceptional release from the Australian pianist/composer presents a jazz sextet performing new versions of lullabies she originally penned for piano, celeste, and electronics. The album featuring those treatments, Forever, And No Time At All, appeared in 2018, written when she was pregnant with her first child. In using soothing melodies, ostinatos, and relaxed tempos, Bartsch purposefully fashioned the material so that it would help babies fall asleep but also appeal to parents. The result clearly struck a chord: it was streamed more than two million times in over eighty countries, and the feedback Bartsch received showed that the music had touched listeners deeply, not only ones with newborns but also those nearing the end of their lives and others dealing with mental health issues. In the time since the original release, Bartsch experimented with different ways of re-presenting the material and, after seeing how successful the songs were when interpreted by jazz musicians at live venues in Melbourne, decided to re-record them with a small jazz ensemble; the stylistic tone of the re-imagining also enabled her to draw on studies she'd had in her twenties with ECM pianists Tord Gustaven and Nik Bärtsch. Recorded in a single day at ABC's Melbourne studios in early March, the performances preserve the character of the original whilst also enriching its material with playing of inordinate sensitivity by Bartsch and her partners, guitarist Robbie Melville, violinist Xani Kolac, cellist Anita Quayle, double bassist Tamara Murphy, and drummer Maddison Carter. Texture and atmosphere are paramount in these performances, with cymbal shadings, hushed strings, and elegant piano working together to produce music of quiet majesty. Representative of the album, “Lights and Shadows” advances in a slow, dream-like lilt, the leader's clear, resonant voicings augmented artfully by the fragile shudder of Kolac's violin, Carter's brushed drums, and Quayle's expressive cry. The subsequent “Rockabye” sees Murphy, Melville, and Bartsch amplifying the setting's introspective quality with absorbing solo contributions. “Here I Am, Just For You” is as lovely as one would expect from a piece so titled and is elevated even more by a stirring episode by Kolac at its gentle centre. Evidence of that aforementioned ECM influence can be heard, albeit subtly, in Bartsch's playing on a piece such as “Call and Response,” and it's easy to imagine material so nuanced released on the label. The album concludes on a mesmerizing note with the graceful “Forever, and No Time at All,” its spell intact until the last note sounds. All forty-one minutes of this recording exemplify authenticity and depth, and moments of poignant beauty are many. Individual egos are set aside in favour of a lyrical group sound wholly committed to honouring the pianist's concept. While Forever More is probably as capable as its predecessor of inducing infants to slumber, its value extends far more broadly in the world in which we now find ourselves. With anxiety and stress levels at their breaking points, soul-soothing music of its kind has never been more needed.September 2020 |