Water Lily Acoustics: Two by Two
Producer Kavichandran Alexander has built his label, Water Lily Acoustics, on
an unusual strategy: take two instrumentalists from different musical
traditions, put them together with no rehearsal or preparation, and record
them. Alexander likens it to two strangers meeting on a train. They might have
an interesting conversation, or a boring one. They might fight. They might fall
in love and get married. He's willing to take his chances.
The newest examples mostly reveal the serendipitous results he hopes for. In
Christ the King Chapel in Santa Barbara, California, four fine string pickers
from England, China, India, and Lebanon take up the challenge on two discs. The
unlikely pairing of English folk guitarist Martin Simpson and Wu Man, a
virtuoso of the Chinese pipa lute, yields the most magical interactions.
Music for the Motherless Child finds two giants mapping out common ground
with amazing ease. On five of the six tracks, Simpson sets the agenda with
traditional English and Irish tunes, an American banjo number, and a slow
blues. His sure-footed acoustic guitar work sounds warm and familiar, but when
Wu Man works in intricate improvisations on her high-pitched, thin-toned lute,
the familiar quickly turns exotic.
On "A-Minor Blues," Wu Man shows her sensitivity to blues phrasing, sliding
and bending pitches on the rubato exposition and resorting to ecstatic tremolo
when Simpson settles into a loping waltz feel. It ain't deep blues, but the
players engage each other. "White Snow in Spring" lets Wu Man show her stuff in
boldly adventurous flights of notes through which Simpson weaves a simple bass
line. As elsewhere, the two players get great results from simply matching the
rise and fall of each other's dynamics.
Vishwa Mohan Bhatt is the inventor and virtuoso of the mohan vina, a radically
altered arch-top slide guitar. When he teams up with Lebanese ud and violin
master Simon Shaheen on Saltanah, the fit is tighter than on the
Simpson/Wu Man disc, since Indian and Arabic classical music share common
aesthetics. But as Alexander's expansive sleeve notes (an experience in
themselves) point out, saltanah means "to dominate" or "to govern." If Martin
Simpson and Wu Man engage in a cordial symposium, these two go for rhetorical
argument -- disciplined, aggressive, and, at its best, exhilarating. Each of
these five tracks pairs an Indian raga with an Arab maqam, both words loosely
translating as "scale."
Restlessness and rivalry emerge often in these ambitious constructions. A
number of pieces adapt the form of an Indian composition -- a slow exposition
building to a furious, heartstopping unison ending. But Shaheen, perhaps the
more dazzling player by a hair, keeps the emphatic reverie of his own Arab
traditions present throughout. The dry, feather-light fluttering of the ud
makes a particularly satisfying complement to the liquid, metallic glide of
Bhatt's mohan vina. A deep-toned bansuri flute and an additional violin fill
out the sound palette on a couple of tracks.
Both Saltanah and Music for the Motherless Child yield the
inevitable moments of uncertainty and fishing. But for the most part they offer
coherent affirmation of a most risky approach to making music.
-- Banning Eyre