Michael NYMAN (b.1944)
Sangam
Three Ways of Describing Rain (Nyman/Misra) (2000)
Sawan (First Rain) [9:14]
Rang (Colour of Nature) [11:37]
Dhyan (Meditation) [7:10]
Compiling the Colours (Nyman/Shrinivas)
Samitha (2001) [31:07]
U. Shrinivas (mandolin)
Rajan Misra (voice)
Sajan Misra (voice)
Ritesh and Rajnish Misra (voice)
Sanju Sahai (tabla)
Michael Nyman Band/Michael Nyman
rec. Abbey Road Studios, London, July 2002 and Sony Studios,
London, October 2002.
MICHAEL NYMAN RECORDS MNRCD119 [59:26]
This release appeared initially on Warner Classics and was reviewed
on these pages back in 2003. Sangam is a a Hindi word
meaning ‘coming together’ or ‘meeting point’,
and the first thing that strikes you is a sense of unity between
Michael Nyman’s gently consonant harmonisations and the
unison choir of voices which are thus accompanied. The remarkable
super-vibrato which ornaments solo vocalisations spring out
with expressive immediacy, but the definition between voices
and band is always well preserved and entirely idiomatic to
each creative source.
The booklet notes tell of the creative process which allowed
the “free-flowing spirit” of the Misra brothers’
vocal artistry to be kept, the ‘orchestral’ context
being “a bed for their voices that wasn’t over-elaborate
and respected what they did and following their compositional
structure.” The simplicity of this concept reminds me
a little of other combined works such as Gavin Bryars’
Jesus Blood or perhaps even The Sinking of the Titanic.
Add a soft beat and you can chalk up Deep Forest as another
reference. Not that these pieces are directly related to such
things, but you can mark them up in the ‘if you like this,
then you might want to try’ category.
We have more characteristic Nyman in the third of the ‘Rain’
pieces, where the accompaniment takes flight and ostinato rhythms
and more complex chord changes occur in Dhyan. It is
here that the duality of the two disparate styles are heard
most distinctly, Nyman’s unmistakable musical shapes existing
alongside those of the singers, giving the feel of an accompaniment
but in fact only joining the two ensembles directly in the final
phrases.
Compiling the Colours opens with an extended solo from
electric mandolin player Uppalapu Shrivinas. If you are wondering
what an electric mandolin sounds like think of the tones of
an amplified jazz guitar - solo notes rather than chords a la
B.B. King, but with the string-bending potential of something
like a country steel guitar, and then with Carnatic scales.
The virtuosity of this playing develops as do the contributions
of the backing musicians, though the ‘band’ remains
somewhat indistinctly in the rear of the picture. This has perhaps
something to do with the instrumentation which is initially
mostly bass-guitar and violin, though you can just about hear
saxophones in the mix somewhere. The resonance of the horn section
is beefed up a little later on in the piece, but the sound remains
generalised and rather indistinct throughout. The booklet tells
of the pentatonic bass riff which seeded the piece. This results
in an further Eastern Asian feel to the gentler section about
half-way through, and now seems perhaps a bit thin to carry
a half hour piece. With all respect to Shrivanas’s undisputed
wizardry on the mandolin, I think this would have worked better
as a shameless three movement concerto with at least a modicum
of contrast in tonality rather than the vast variation form
that we have here. I’m afraid both me and the cat were
somewhat climbing the walls after 20 minutes or so of ceaseless
nagging at the same notes and rhythmic pattern, though the penultimate
apotheosis in a last few minutes is nicely tranquil.
It’s good to have these fascinating collaborations raised
in profile via Michael Nyman’s label, and I would certainly
recommend everyone to give it a try, especially for the fascinating
Three ways of describing rain. This album is most certainly
a horizon-widener, even if the test of time is unlikely to grant
it classic status.
Dominy Clements
A definite horizon-widener.
see also review by Neil
Horner (original Warner release)