Rose Bolton: The Lost Clock
Cassauna

As a composer, Toronto-based Rose Bolton (b. 1971) casts an inordinately wide net. She's written works for multiple ensembles and contexts, from solo performers to orchestra and from stage productions and installations to film soundtracks. Recent accomplishments include: the string quartet The Coming of Sobs, which received a Juno nomination for ‘Classical Composition of the Year'; the collaborative work Song of Extinction, which was presented at an abandoned power station during Toronto's Luminato Festival; and the music that she composed for the highly regarded documentary Anthropocene: The Human Epoch. Among those who have performed her works are the Esprit Orchestra, pianist Eve Egoyan, Arraymusic, and the Tim Brady-led guitar quartet Instruments of Happiness. Bolton has been a member of the Canadian Electronic Ensemble since 1999 but is also passionately interested in the fiddle traditions of the British Isles and different Canadian regions.

There's no fiddling on The Lost Clock, however, whose four pieces instead emphasize her engagement with electronic composition, sound design, and soundscaping. Recalling at times the tone of the Anthropocene material, the music on the new release exudes a subtle yet potent sense of menace. Bolton never bludgeons the listener with a decimating, high-decibel blow—she's far too artful and nuanced for that—but a creeping sense of disquiet nonetheless emerges (the ghostly opening track is even titled Unsettled Souls). Issued on Important Records' cassette imprint Cassauna, The Lost Clock draws the listener into its hermetic, self-contained worlds, each one an entity rich in atmosphere and suggestion. In speaking of her general practice, it's not inappropriate to label Bolton a composer, yet the better term to describe what she's doing on The Lost Clock is the one displayed at her own site, Sonic Landscapist. Her sensitivity to sound design infuses the material with a powerful tactile quality that accentuates the human hand involved in the music's creation.

Though no instrument details accompany the release, electronics and field recordings are present and percussion, piano, and string instruments, too; acoustic elements appear in their natural form, but it's also possible they've been subjected to electronic manipulations of some kind. After the title piece begins with real-world shuffling noises and pulsing electronics, the various strands unite to form a chilly industrial dronescape slowly enveloped by shimmering string textures. Halfway through, a throbbing bass pulse surfaces to nudge the material in a nightmarish experimental-electronica direction and intensify the feeling of impending doom. When electronics speckle the flickering Starless Night, it's hard to resist thinking the better title would be Starry Night. Synth timbres and string textures imbue The Heaven Mirror with a peaceful, serene character, though darkness gradually seeps in to suggest spreading disease.

Differences of duration notwithstanding, the settings develop patiently and with every detail and gesture considered carefully. A certain inexorable character asserts itself during these soundscapes, yet the four are at the same time never predictable and when attended to immersively get under your skin. The title composition in particular suggests that if David Cronenberg were to ever consider making a sequel to Rabid, Bolton would be the perfect choice of soundtrack artist for the project.

July 2021