Contrary to the title’s implication, there initially seems to be little movement in Arch of Motion. A note is held on an organ. Then another note comes in and is also held. Chords build up gradually. Maybe one or two ascending or descending notes come and go. And that seems to be it.
But when Track Five arrives, the mood brightens and the sonic pallete becomes more broad. The drone on “Mending (Light Pressure)” might be an analogue synth. Next, “Conversation” adds a breathy wordless voice – celestial, wraith-like. After this, the crepuscular “Inhale” features what seem to be actual words. In time, clarinet, flute, guitar, piano and trombone appear.
Linnéa Talp is Swedish, and her new album moves on from its similarly-inclined though more traditionally song-based Cochlea which was issued in 2020 under the name DEEREST. Arch of Motion places her as a fellow traveller to like-minded Swedish organ minimalists Ellen Arkbro and Kali Malone. Talp’s subtly dramatic take on this form of music is where Anna von Hausswolff could have gone after her second album Ceremony and its recorded-in-a-church follow-up Källan (Prototype). With Talp, the voice heard here is Wildbirds & Peacedrums vocalist Mariam Wallentin. Their Andreas Werliin mixed Arch of Motion. Arch of Motion arrives with context.
Though born from improvisation, Talp’s minimalism is very precise – musically and practically. Like von Hausswolff, she has sought out specific church organs as her instrument. Though the various contributors intertwine with what she plays on the organ, the clarinet is used to add further texture. Overall, experiencing the meticulous Arch of Motion is akin to being immersed in a flotation tank, with a soundtrack designed to induce a journey into interior worlds. Listen in one sitting. In the dark.
