Bergamo-based American guitarist Buck Curran’s new instrumental album honours French poet Arthur Rimbaud and draws on poems from his collection Illuminations. The work is known for its surreal qualities and rejection of literal meaning, making it an ideal lens for improvisation. Buck begins the set with his partner and singer/songwriter Adele H reciting the prose poem Mystique from Illuminations in Italian, with Buck playing slide and guitar harmonics behind the vocal.
Aside from the dedication, Buck’s Illuminations feels like an homage to his Italian life and family. Recorded in Bergamo over a month or so, the sound is as clear and precise as you would expect from Buck, but the music also feels modest; it’s stripped back and beautifully inviting. Notice the soft chair creaks throughout Nocturne Vulgaire, or the infant chatter in the background of Enfance. Buck plays these pieces slowly, leaving plenty of space and allowing these background noises into the sound, effectively enfolding his family and environment into his art.
This space is a key detail on Illuminations; these pieces have a calmness and unhurried character, the purest, most honest expression of Buck Curran’s playing so far. Of course, much like on last year’s Far Driven Sun, the fact that he is playing an instrument of the highest quality (a 2009 Stefan Sobell Custom Model 1 this time) is significant in that each note played oozes richness and resonance, meaning the space between is required to savour the tone of the guitar. A touch esoteric perhaps, but knowing Buck, this approach would have been entirely deliberate, right down to the exact positioning of the microphone to the body, all to produce the best possible version of these songs.
The music is beautiful throughout; Buck has rich, atmospheric soundscaping in his wheelhouse, as he has demonstrated on albums like No Love is Sorrow, but for Illuminations he has kept things clean and simple. There is a subtle hint of jazz about this one too: the sharp little harmonic beginning Conte is strangely percussive, while there is a contrary nature to some of the progressions, giving the sound something akin to a super-minimalist jazz trio. In just a couple of minutes or so, Buck brings so much intrigue into a solo guitar piece. Clever stuff.
A profound, almost-silent space underpins the playing on this record, somehow stark yet comforting. On a piece like Matinée d’Ivresse and its Revenir, the space between notes is clearly felt, but a faint shimmer is also discernible, perhaps from the strings’ natural resonance or an ultra-subtle engineering touch. This small detail elevates the sound and rewards deep listening, adding delicacy and depth to these tracks.
For all its subtlety and minimalism, Illuminations is a powerful album. Beyond the link to Rimbaud, the family references dotted among the songs, pared back to their core, are keenly felt and lend integrity to this modest half-hour recording. It’s an unpretentious album of beautifully played guitar music in its purest form, but the lack of excess also gives the music a strong sense of confidence. Illuminations is wonderful; certainly an essential addition to Buck Curran’s extensive catalogue.
Illuminations (October 20th, 2026) Obsolete Recordings (017)/Island House Recordings (IH-057)