Byron Metcalf and Mark Seelig: Persistent Visions
Projekt

In the press release for this collaborative effort, Mark Seelig (bansuri flutes) and Byron Metcalf (frame drums, udu, talking drums, drones, pads) are referred to as “shamanic practitioners,” which turns out to be no exaggeration at all. For seventy-one transformative minutes, the two call into being a deep sonic meditation that, especially when lulling rhythms gently (and sometimes not so gently) animate the music's flow, has the capacity to induce an equally deep state of enchantment. Seelig's flutes and Metcalf's drums and atmospheric textures make for a combination that's not just potent but seductive, too. It's not the first time they've partnered either, with Persistent Visions arriving four years after the earlier Intention.

Against a backdrop of sultry ambient washes and relaxed drum rhythms, the flute drifts gracefully, its tone soft, harmonious, and alluring. Seelig, who apparently based his performance on two classic Indian ragas, plays with admirable humility. Never in his playing is there any hint of ego indulgence; on the contrary, his every expression seems tailored to strengthen the total musical effect, and the aromatic quality and haunting tone of the flute is consistently reinforced by the expansive backdrop Metcalf fashions for it. For the most part, the woodwind embraces the role of front-line soloist with everything else designed to support and accompany it on its journey.

Though Persistent Visions consists of six indexed “visions,” it plays continuously (the Bandcamp download includes the piece both as a single uninterrupted track and one with cue points for the six parts). It's not static, however; discernible changes in tempo and subtle adjustments in sound design surface along the way, the former sometimes occurring abruptly. My preference would have been for those tempo shifts to have been executed more gradually to render them less perceptible, but that quibble aside, the contrasts from one part to the next prove enhancing. By way of illustration, intensity builds during the recording's first half until a culmination is reached in “Vision 4,” after which the peaceful, almost somnambulant character of “Vision 5” is especially satisfying.

Often the changes in sound design are so subtle, they go (almost) unnoticed; at other moments, one can't help but notice a dramatic alteration. Midway through “Vision 3,” for example, all of the elements except for Metcalf's drums drop away and then fold back in one after another. Elsewhere, synth washes surge in volume and density, though never so much that they threaten to overpower the flute. Drums disappear altogether in “Vision 6,” the arrangement in this instance nothing more than the hushed murmur of the flute and a softly droning galaxy of starlit synths. Modulations of these kinds do much to sustain listening engagement for the entirety of the trip.

May 2019