Bekah Simms: Bestiaries
Centrediscs

Bekah Simms' music finds its fitting analogue in the mesmerizing artwork gracing the cover of her third album. Whereas Dan Tapper's Lovecraft-by-way-of-Cronenberg image suggests the intestinal plumbing of some non-human creature's insides, her beastly creations likewise evoke images of writhing viscera and elements entwining violently. To call it uncompromising hardly does it justice; suffice it to say, little else released this year sounds remotely like the material on Bestiaries. Simms translates the fantastical worlds of her imagination into oft-foreboding soundscapes tailor-made to induce vertigo if not bewilderment.

The recipient of over thirty awards and prizes (including two JUNO Award nominations for Classical Composition of the Year), Simms, who hails from St. John's, Newfoundland, spent nine years in Toronto, and currently calls Glasgow home, has seen and done much. Her music's been presented on both sides of the Atlantic, and she's been commissioned by companies such as Eighth Blackbird, l'Ensemble Contemporain de Montréal, the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, and Esprit Orchestra. She's now a Lecturer at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland after having taught at the University of Toronto and the University of Western Ontario.

Created at a transition point for Simms, the three pieces, written between late 2018 and mid-2020, see her drawing inspiration from artists personally important to her and quoting from them in diverse ways. Live electronics figure into the framing works, each also coupling a soloist with chamber orchestra, while the central piece, from Void, is scored for chamber ensemble.

Cellist Amahl Arulanandam joins Cryptid Ensemble for Foreverdark, an eleven-minute plunge into aural grotesquerie that reflects the affinity the composer and cellist have for various strains of metal (in the release booklet, Simms mentions that the work quotes from bands such as Bathory, Strapping Young Lad, and System of a Down). It begins harmlessly enough, but vicious cello scrapes and metallic clangour erupt soon thereafter to make the work's merciless persona clear. Moments of lyricism do surface, primarily courtesy of Arulanandam, but for the most part Foreverdark is a harrowing excursion into a destabilizing zone built from the shards of metal gestures and slabs of orchestral dissonance.

Performed by Ensemble contemporain de Montréal (ECM+), from Void grew out of, in Simms's words, “an intentionally error-laden digital analysis of Rebecca Saunders' orchestral work void.” Electronics are eschewed, yet the piece feels no less alien than the other two, especially when its opening minutes sound like someone huffing and puffing through a didgeridoo or pipa. Engine-like combustion and percussive effects that grow increasingly animated and colourful merge with blasts of horn, strings, and woodwinds for twelve skin-crawling minutes, the wailing piece a snuff film translated into sound.

Fans of Tak ensemble will thrill to see soprano Charlotte Mundy pairing with Cryptid Ensemble for Bestiary I & II. Inspiration this time came from harpist Joanna Newsom's Ys, with Mundy singing syllables extracted from Newsom lyrics. Perhaps wisely, Simms concludes the release with an ethereal work that's comparatively easy on the ears yet no less marked by her sensibility. A moment or two arises where the vocal writing recalls those used by Hans Abrahamsen in Let me tell you (magnificently realized by Barbara Hannigan on a 2016 recording), but Bestiary I & II ultimately registers as a Simms creation full stop. In being pitched at a quieter level, the piece also allows her vivid textural colourations to be clearly heard. Consistent with the title, sounds of bird twitter subtly work their way into this alternately eerie and fairy tale-like dreamscape too.

In being true to her vision, Simms achieves remarkable results, as challenging a listen as Bestiaries is. Each work carves out a distinct space whilst also retaining the clear signature of its creator, and at thirty-four minutes, the recording is modest in duration yet as a statement feels complete. Like a gruesome car crash you can't stop yourself from watching, it's not easy listening, but it is gripping.

November 2022