FolkWax (06/28/06)
UTTERLY ACCESSIBLE

Strange Conversation is something of a departure for Kris Delmhorst, since she has never been noted for co-writing songs. The music here is totally her own (except for "Since You Went Away" written with Mark C. Olson), but each cut features the words of a collaborator - as written by that person, or adapted by Delmhorst. In fact if you were seeking a sub-title for this collection, one possibility could be "Kris & The Dead Poets Society." In terms of age, Delmhorst's inspirations range from the oldest - Virgil [b. 70 BC, d. 19 BC] albeit by way of Hermann Broch's "The Death Of Virgil," through to recent contemporaries - America's E. E. Cummings [b. 1894, d. 1962], and England's Poet Laureate John Masefield [b. 1878, d. 1967]. Ten of the twelve source works were written during the nineteenth and twentieth century. Delmhorst and her label Signature Sounds (and for that matter the numerous original copyright holders) are to be congratulated, where applicable, for prefacing each "song lyric" with the poet's original work, thereby illustrating then and now. When Delmhorst revealed the content of her next recording, in conversation - outside Coventry's Tin Angel - during her most recent U.K. tour in the fall of 2005, I wondered at the magnitude of the task. Suffice to say, any trepidation I felt has been more than allayed by the end result. Instead of being 'dry' and scholarly, it's warm, welcoming, at turns spirited or gentle and utterly accessible.

Baldassare Galuppi [1706 - 1785], a Venetian-based composer, is credited with being around at the conception of Italian comic opera and was memorialised in Robert Browning's [b. 1812, d. 1899] "A Toccata Of Galuppi's." Adapting London-born Browning's words, Delmhorst's "Galuppi Baldassare" amounts melodically to a goodtime sounding romp that references events in the composer's life - "I bet that they all loved you/I bet they stood around and cheered." Lord Byron [b. 1788, d. 1824] was born in London to an English father and Scottish heiress mother, and verbatim Delmhorst has added a contemplative melody to his 1817 meditation on love "We'll Go No More A-Roving." Walt Whitman [b. 1819, d. 1892] was born on Long Island - Delmhorst in nearby Brooklyn - and from "Passage To India" [1900] Delmhorst has fashioned his words into "Light Of The Light," and filled it with excited anticipation at the prospect of a journey, then underpinned it with a tambourine-prominent, hook-filled melody. Now who would have dreamed that was possible?

Floridian James William Johnson [b. 1871, d. 1938] later changed his name to James Weldon Johnson, and in addition to his published output, during his lifetime, launched the first black newspaper (it remained in business for about a year), served abroad as a U.S. Ambassador, and was the first black secretary of the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People. In the liner booklet Johnson's "Since You Went Away" is reproduced in its original patois, although in performance Delmhorst has anglicised his words. Relative to Whitman and Delmhorst's positive take on 'the light of India,' it's immediately followed by Johnson's sombre tale of parting (and loss) and relates how "the sun has lost its light." That said, "Since You Went Away" is supported by a wonderfully fluent melody. The consecutive pairing of the album title cut and "The Drop & The Dream," feature Delmhorst's own words, albeit inspired by the life of the Gaul (these days Gaul is part of Northern Italy) Virgil, as documented by the Vienna-born Broch [b. 1886, d. 1951] in "The Death Of Virgil." Both are reflections on the human condition and employ the end of verse coda, "Let it burn." The former embraces the summation "All my life's labour feels like just a feather in my hand," while the latter references the motivational aim "It's both our curse and our grace, here in this place/To reach for heights that we'll never climb."

Coventry, Warwickshire-born Mary Ann Cross successfully adopted the penname George Eliot [b. 1819, d. 1880], and a New Orleans Jazz band performs Delmhorst's "Invisible Choir" melody, while the song's narrator dreams of an eternal legacy, "I want to live after I die/I want to make a bit of beauty and leave a little light behind." There goes that word "light" again. For many years Delmhorst made her base in Cambridge, Massachusetts, as did, in his time, E. E. Cummings. The tongue twisting lines to "Pretty How Town" based on Cummings' "Anyone Lived In A Pretty How Town," not only captures the passage of time, but furnishes snapshots of a life lived well. "Tavern" that gathering place where people can feel a sense of community is captured by the words of Maine's Edna St Vincent Millay [b. 1892, d. 1950], and Delmhorst has served them well with a slow beautiful waltz.

Despite its soothing, (and we assume) cooling nature, musically speaking, "Water Water" is the out and out rocker in this pack. It appears that the Robert Herrick [b. 1591, d. 1674] poem "The Scare-Fire" was Delmhorst's source and her first tilt at creating a song from a poem and predates the remaining contents of Strange Conversation by a year. Whose school day's were not filled with endless repetition of John Masefield's "I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky" etc. etc. Delmhorst has taken "Sea-Fever" and transformed Masefield's words into an absorbing act of faith. "Everything Is Music" - a title that truly celebrates life - has been adapted from verses written by Jalaluddin Rumi [b. 1207, d. 1273], the Sufi poet of love. Forty seconds into the track, it picks up pace to become a joyous goodtime sing-along and brings this "poem becomes song" collection to a fitting end.

— Arthur Wood is a founding editor of FolkWax

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