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| Artwork by Maahy |
Cellist Raphael Weinroth-Browne is no stranger to Metal Bandcamp at this point. Matt Hinch recently reviewed his solo album Worlds Within on these very pages just a few weeks ago. Matt listed Weinroth-Browne’s metal bonafides--including Musk Ox and Leprous--but he’s no slacker when it comes to other projects. Kamancello is a duo, featuring Weinroth-Browne’s cello contrasted with Shahriyar Jamshidi’s kamanche, a Persian stringed instrument, bowed like a cello, which is prominent in music from Iran, Kurdistan, and other nearby Middle Eastern countries. As played by Jamshidi, it features sounds similar to the cello, but in a higher register and with a raspier timbre.
Of Shadows is the duo’s third album, and I’ll give you the highlight right from the top: The entire album is improvised and unedited. Now, depending on your depth of musical interest, you may have heard a jazz combo or two, and those might have shown you the fine line between masterful improvisation and “oh god why are we listening to a 20-minute trombone solo.” Kamancello are firmly in the former category, but they take it even a step further. Unlike improvising over a jazz standard with a fixed chord progression, Kamancello approaches their songs with the most minimal planning. Weinroth-Browne told me that sometimes he and Jamshidi will agree on a Persian mode or key signature beforehand, but sometimes not even that. They keep contrasting moods in mind for the progression of the tracks over the course of the album. Sometimes they’ll use alternate tunings for their instruments. But if you, like me, conjured an idea of the two men meeting in a room, silently nodding, and beginning to play, you’re not far off.
There is an extraordinary amount of communication here. Sometimes it’s relatively straightforward--you can hear a distinct call and response between the two artists late in “The Rider,” but you’ll find more subtle interactions elsewhere. “Dance of Shadows” finds the duo merging to a single melodic line before diverging again. “To Mourn” has melodies that wind around each other, elevating the song beyond a simple dirge to a piece as complex as the process of mourning itself.
If you’re worried that this will be strictly classical music that you might not be interested in or otherwise attuned to, think again. “On the Precipice” will tempt you to bang your head--maybe just a little--or at least tap your foot to the driving rhythms. The players use every sound texture available to them. Sweetly bowed passages, staccato plucked lines, and even the occasional percussive sound with a finger tapped on the body of one instrument or another. Sometimes you’ll even be convinced you’re hearing a vocal melody, perhaps in a language you don’t understand.
The fact that these improvised pieces stand as fully realized compositions--sometimes much more so than songs that have been meticulously planned--is a testament to the level of artistic communication between these two musicians. They straddle the line between “music made for musicians” and easily accessible melodies and rhythmic figures that anyone can immediately grasp and enjoy. A balance is struck between music to get lost in and music to absorb while fully present. It’s a stunning work, and I heartily recommend it and their previous two albums.
