Jacqueline Kerrod: 17 Days in December
Orenda Records

Certainly one indication of Jacqueline Kerrod's prowess as a harpist is how easily the seventeen improvisations on her debut solo album could pass for formally composed pieces. That's attributable, at least in part, to preparedness, first in terms of the wealth of experiences she brought to the recording process and secondly with respect to the strategies used to execute the material. As far as the former's concerned, the classically trained, South African-born harpist has served as the principal harpist with NY City Opera, worked intensively with Anthony Braxton, and performed with International Contemporary Ensemble (ICE) and Alarm Will Sound as well as Rufus Wainwright and Kanye West. Partnering with Braxton for live duo performances in Europe and the US proved especially transformative in forcing Kerrod to become comfortable with improv and creating in-the-moment.

Preparedness also has to do with the approach adopted for the project. Recorded in the basement of her Princeton home during December 2020, 17 Days in December collects seventeen improvisations performed on acoustic and electric harp. To formalize the process, she set a timer for forty minutes and then recorded whatever resulted. While overdubbing and looping were eschewed, Kerrod did apply a screwdriver-like harp tool to “December 5: Screwed,” a small glass bowl to “December 28: Glassy Fingers,” and a viola bow to “December 29: Rust On Bow”; Ableton treatments were also used in a couple of tracks, and pedals on the electric harp were utilized too. Those interventions aside, all other sounds were produced by the instrument in its unaltered form.

Braxton's impact on Kerrod is intimated by the fact that she used one of his concepts as a springboard for the opening track “December 1: Trill to Begin”; that detail notwithstanding, the setting registers as a full Kerrod creation that sees her drawing on a extensive repertoire of techniques. Aggressive plucks appear against an insistent backdrop of strums, the effect dramatic in the extreme and even in moments violent, and the richness and density of the sound field generated by the instrument is striking.

Mood contrasts are plentiful, with some pieces cryptic and mysterious (“December 7: Gentle Jangle”) and others fiercely agitated (“December 8: Sugar Up”). The prettiness generally associated with the instrument is heard in “December 28: Glassy Fingers,” though the piece also imparts an hypnotic quality when it veers into ambient-drone territory. “December 29: Rust On Bow” registers as an even deeper plunge into drone soundscaping when it unspools across nine daze-inducing minutes. In stark contrast, “December 5: Screwed” comes close to presenting the instrument in its natural form, even despite the involvement of the screwdriver-like tool.

October 2021