The West Ocean String Quartet – Atlantic Edge
West Ocean Records (WORCD104) – Out Now
Atlantic Edge marks this Irish chamber quartet’s twenty-first anniversary together and their first album since 2013’s acclaimed An Indigo Sky. For this project, the musicians (Neil Martin, Séamus McGuire, Niamh Crowley and Kenneth Rice) decided to swerve from performing predominantly newly composed music to consider the wealth of traditional material to be found on the west coast of Ireland. Indeed, nine of Atlantic Edge‘s eleven tracks are traditional tunes arranged, as always, by cellist Neil Martin, with the other two being Martin’s original compositions, both of which link neatly to the overriding theme of the set. As always with this group, the music they play here is a beautiful blend of the traditional and classical styles, existing, as Martin says, ‘somewhere in the cracks’ or ‘between worlds’. This approach immediately throws up names like violinist Martin Hayes‘ Quartet or his work with The Gloaming. Still, to me, Atlantic Edge at points brought to mind the Scottish quartet Rant and especially their album The Portage. That said, this is more mercurial in its arrangements, which is perhaps not surprising, knowing that Martin is fond of his ‘quirky metre’ and West Ocean’s music tends to leap from air to march seamlessly.
Opening track ‘Níon a’ Bhaoilligh / The March of the Mín an Tóiteáin Bull’ is as good an example of this as any, with the first part of the piece one of gorgeous, slowly played sombre music full of space, with the two violins introducing the music, before the lower notes of viola and cello appear. The narrative is one of unrequited love and the resulting torment caused, which the music captures so wonderfully, with the lead violin’s yearning but hopeful high notes counter-balanced by the cello and viola. It is therefore quite thrilling when, mid-bar, the violin line jumps straight into the second half of the piece, a cracking march also known as ‘The Drunken Piper’ describing the savvy actions of the said piper, luring a bad-tempered bull into a pub by playing the tune. Neil Martin claims this movement from the melancholy mode and melody of the first half was ‘effortless’, but it is a splendid bit of musical imagining and playing that gives this group their signature elegant creative flair.
‘Port na bPúcaí’ (The Song of the Spirits) ebbs us back into the realm of ‘Níon a’ Bhaoilligh’. An air with mysterious origins and many interpretations, this ‘fairy music’, perhaps created as a lament for more innocent and imaginative times, is ethereal and feather-light in its texture. The central melody is just stunning and is tossed from violin to cello throughout so skilfully it is noticeable but never disrupts the consistency and fluidity of the music. The second violin and viola are careful not to over-power things by being too present and for the most part hover spectrally in the shade, adding texture and further anchoring the tune. It is wonderful music, performed by players interlinked and intuitive enough to blend and switch and make complex and daring arrangements appear natural. The same can be said for ‘The Boy in the Glen’, an original composition by Martin that sits perfectly alongside the traditional tunes. Again the fiddle and cello, occupying opposite ends of the tonal spectrum, subtly alternate between taking the tune and backing it, changing places with a smoothness long honed. This gorgeous air almost wants you to believe in its simplicity, but it is a piece full of nuanced playing; I particularly love the random plucked cello strings halfway through that add the tiniest, barely noticeable hint of seasoning. It is lightness itself and all the more effective for it.
Far more upbeat is ‘McDermott’s Reel / The Pretty Girls of Mayo / Dillon Brown’, a three-minute blast of fiddle fronted music that Séamus McGuire obviously knows inside out and seems to have a lot of fun playing. His violin is the star of the show here, with the other players careful to add colour sparingly; the second violin of Niamh Crowley is particularly effective, embellishing with little teases of notes for the most part, before they all come in more fully towards the end. This short shot of joy is followed by possibly the most beautiful piece on the album, ‘Slán le Máigh’ (Farewell to the Máigh), a tune from a song paying homage to the Máigh poets (of the river Máigh), particularly the miscreant Andrias MacCraith, an eighteenth-century poet exiled from his area. The music begins with a slow violin line and sparse plucked cello notes (how I love those) before the other players come in for the main body of the song, a long slow and utterly stunning meander of playing that is as patient and mesmerising as the river. Towards the end is a brief viola line that is joined by cello, with violins floating beneath that just takes the breath away.
Further along is ‘Mrs Crotty’s Walls of Liscarroll’, another beauty, but one less slippery than ‘Slán le Máigh’. This penultimate tune on the set is a tribute to the ‘open and honest’ music of concertina player Elizabeth Crotty. Although the central melody is a steady waltz, the other musicians move loosely, almost mischievously at times, around the edges and inject energy while maintaining the spirit of the original tune. It leads us into final track ‘Aisling Gheal’, another gorgeous air with the patient musicianship of ‘Slán le Máigh’. A tune clearly important to Martin, one interpretation of this was from Sean Ó Riada, a key composer and arranger of Irish traditional music and a significant influence on this group. The music itself has many tones and shades and, like fine airs, subtly avoids strict structure or metre. This ambiguity finishes the album wonderfully; it whispers and carefully descends to a close with a delicacy and the deceptive precision that neatly sums up this album as a whole.
There is such an amount of high-end musicianship and composing present on Atlantic Edge that it will benefit a huge amount from repeated listening. That’s not to say this is an album that is difficult to get to grips with; its music is dynamic and shifting but never inaccessible. It is excellent and faultlessly played throughout by a group of musicians that clearly know each other exceptionally well and can musically converse to the point that the piece is subtly and elegantly elevated. And it is the word ‘elegant’ that was present a lot for me when listening to the album; there is much subtlety in these complex works and many small details that reveal themselves with each listen. At once playful, focused, narratively strong and highly respectful of heritage, Atlantic Edge is a triumph of musical prowess and a master class in beautifully blending traditional music with classical styles. It is an exceptional album.
Order Atlantic Edge via www.westoceanstringquartet.com