Scottish singer Jenny Sturgeon is no stranger to wild landscapes. On her 2017 EP The Wren And The Salt Air she created a set of songs inspired by the unique bird populations of the remote St Kilda island group, while her academic life – she has a PhD in seabird ecology – brings her into frequent contact with the most beautiful and isolated reaches of the Scottish coast and countryside. On her new album, The Living Mountain (reviewed here), she interprets and reflects upon Nan Shepherd’s book of the same name, creating a musical and lyrical exploration of the Cairngorm mountain range. It is a beautiful and meditative cycle of songs, and as such, it rewards close listening and deep contemplation.
There has been a resurgence of interest in Shepherd’s writing in the last decade, and although Sturgeon is a relatively late convert, she is a fervent one, highly engaged with her subject. ‘I first became aware of Nan’s writing about six years ago when my partner gave me a copy of The Living Mountain,’ she tells me. ‘I have to admit I’m not much of a reader and prefer to listen to audiobooks and podcasts, so it took me a wee while to open it up for the first time.’
But once she took the plunge she was immediately struck by the book’s unique qualities, and felt a certain kinship with Shepherd’s experiences.
‘I remember feeling comforted and familiar with what Nan was describing. It put me at ease and made me want to explore familiar landscapes in a new way,’ she says. But it took another reading before the seed of a new creative project was sewn: ‘I was starting to think about a new project exploring human connections with wild places and happened to be reading the book again – it all started slotting into place.’
Part of what drew Sturgeon to Shepherd’s writing was its progressive quality. She was a feminist in a culture that prized masculinity; she rejected the notion that a mountain was there to be conquered. ‘Nan had great respect for the mountains and this comes across in her writing,’ says Sturgeon. ‘She was an observer, a small part of something bigger. But what she did was incredible. Much more impressive and groundbreaking than sticking a flag on the top of a mountain. She was a quiet revolutionary. There is no ego in her writing – she does not glorify her achievements or make it about herself. Gladly I think the tides are changing and writing about the outdoors is moving to a more holistic approach – and less about conquests.’
Though on the surface it might be difficult to categorise Shepherd’s writing as political, in Sturgeon’s view that’s exactly what it was: ‘To me her book is political in that she talks of a strong connection and love for the outdoors and wild places – she is an advocate for the natural world. I suppose in relation to our current UK government that is quite radical, as they clearly have no respect for nature.’
But the immediate thrill of reading The Living Mountain comes with its highly original, evocative descriptions of the Cairngorms, and this is something that Sturgeon has managed to feed off and to replicate in her music, thanks to an immersion in the landscape that would have made her idol proud. ‘I carved out time to spend in the mountains for different purposes – to re-familiarise myself with the places Nan talked of in her book, to acquaint myself with places I’d never been before, to stop and listen, and record bird calls, trickling burns and waves lapping on the shore of lochs. It made me realise I perhaps didn’t know the mountains as well as I thought, and that there is still so much to see. All of these trips to the Cairngorms fed into the project and helped inform the lyrics, arrangements and overall concept of the album.’
This immersive approach fed directly into the album in the form of a field recording that underpins the music from start to finish. This, Sturgeon explains ‘is one continuous recording made within the Cairngorms National Park, where we recorded the album. Each day we were recording the album Andy Bell (the album’s producer) and I placed a mic outdoors and recorded several hours of local sounds – we chose one of these to be the backing soundscape for the album.’
Another important part of The Living Mountain’s overall sound is Sturgeon’s guitar playing. This too is rooted in her own corner of Scotland, in a unique and specific way. She uses a bespoke guitar made by Rory Dowling from reclaimed local materials. ‘Rory and I spoke about the idea of making a guitar from reclaimed Scottish wood early on in the project,’ she explains. ‘It was on my mind throughout the research, development and creation of the songs and so informed the overall sound of the songs and the album. It sings the songs with me and as it is so directly connected with the Cairngorms it feels perfectly at home with the songs. I picked up the finished guitar halfway through writing the songs and getting to know the guitar and what it could do definitely influenced how I wrote the remaining tracks.’
It is this level of engagement and attention to detail that characterises Sturgeon’s work, so it comes as no surprise that her preoccupation with Shepherd’s book extends well beyond the album. She is fascinated by Shepherd’s legacy, and the small cottage industry that seems to have grown up around it in recent years. There is an increasing awareness of the importance of The Living Mountain in the canon of nature writing, and Sturgeon is happy to add her own support. As well as the musical side of things, she hosts a podcast on which she speaks to other people who have been inspired by Shepherd in practices as varied as dance, ceramics, biography, ecology and theatre. She sees all of these responses as part of the same creative continuum.
‘I love seeing and hearing how different people respond to the same stimuli. It deepens my understanding and interpretation of the mountains and Nan’s work – it’s like looking at the same mountains from a different view. I look forward to seeing/hearing how people are inspired by Nan’s work in the future.’
And she sees Shepherd’s writing as something that has continuing relevance: ‘The outdoors has always been an important influence on creativity and academic work, but perhaps now, as we see increasing habitat and climate degradation, it is at the forefront of peoples’ consciousness. Nan’s work is accessible and relatable across landscapes. In her writing there is a great deal of love and respect for the outdoors, I think people can connect with that. Also, she is a bit of an enigma, which sparks people’s curiosity and has probably added to the mystique surrounding Nan and her work.’
On a personal level, too, the natural environment is close to Sturgeon’s heart: ‘It’s a necessary, enriching part of my life. And I think the same can be said for a lot of people. Besides the obvious health and creative benefits, being outdoors gives me a chance to disconnect from a screen and connect with myself in a more meaningful way. It might sound corny, but it’s a meditative experience, relaxing, exciting and real.’
Sturgeon’s passion for Nan Shepherd’s writing, and for the natural world in general, is obvious both from the sincerity and beauty of her music and from the passion with which she talks about it. Equally evident is her talent, hard work and sheer level of engagement with a project. So, what about the future? Is this a method she is likely to pursue again?
‘I really enjoy working on a theme to create a body of work. I find it immersive and satisfying, also frustrating and difficult at times! Over the last few months I’ve started working on a new idea linked with another one of my favourite books. It’s still early days with that!’
Whatever that new idea might be, it’ll be worth waiting for.
You Can hear Jenny talking more about her album on the next Hudson Records Listening Club this Sunday 18th October at 10.30am (details in our recent news piece here)
The Living Mountain is out today. Order Now on CD and Limited Edition Blue Vinyl http://smarturl.it/thelivingmountain
Released 16/10/20