The Westerlies: Wherein Lies the Good
The Westerlies

With trumpeter Chloe Rowlands now helming the chair previously occupied by Zubin Hensler, The Westerlies' third full-length heralds a new chapter for this Seattle-born, New York-based brass quartet. Its earlier releases, 2014's Wish the Children Would Come On Home: The Music of Wayne Horvitz and The Westerlies, the double-CD set that arrived two years later, serve as excellent entry-points for anyone new to the band, but Wherein Lies the Good is perhaps an even better one for being so stylistically diverse.

In addition to pieces written by Rowlands and the other band members, trumpeter Riley Mulherkar and trombonists Andy Clausen and Willem de Koch, the release features five transcriptions of vintage gospel songs (by way of the a cappella Golden State Quartet vocal group) and material by Arthur Russell, Charles Ives, Judee Sill, and Robin Holcomb, her gorgeous eleven-part title work the album's centerpiece. One comes way from the recording buoyed by the quartet's ability to meet any challenge it sets before itself.

On this release, everything from gospel, folk, jazz, and classical seeps into the performances, all such colours blending indissolubly into a mix that defies straightforward classification. Its classical dimension is reflected in the refinement of the music and the precision and clarity of its execution; jazz is accounted for in improvised moments that emerge out of composed structures; folk is heard in the music's melodies, and the playing exudes a soulful, gospel-inflected coziness. It's a distinctly, deep-rooted American sound, yet it also collapses borders in the way it welcomes listeners of all kinds. This is a virtuosic brass outfit that would be as comfortable on a New York concert hall stage as in a sweaty New Orleans nightclub.

In being performed by two trumpets and two trombones only, The Westerlies' sound is all-acoustic—though the group's not averse to incorporating extended techniques where appropriate. For its treatment of Russell's “Eli,” for example, tin foil was used to cover the bell of one trombone to add a frizzy texture to the brash rendition. The four draw upon half-valving, mutes, and something they call “the flute sound” (in which air leaks out of the mouth's sides during playing) to extend the horns' natural timbres into arresting areas.

As strong as they are as players, the members are no slouches in the composing department. Clausen's “Robert Henry” and de Koch's “From the Very First Time” effectively document the quartet's ability to collectively lock into a performance with precision, each intricate part merging in a beautifully balanced fit. Meanwhile, Rowlands' gentle “Laurie” honours the late trumpet teacher and performer Laurie Frink with a heartfelt elegy, whereas Mulherkar's “Entropy” triptych ranges widely with an exploration that flatters the group in its stately counterpoint and polyphony.

Its treatment of an arrangement by Ives of the traditional hymn “In the Mornin'” endears for its open-hearted sincerity and bluesy inflections; the composer's playful and adventurous sides are also captured in “Memories,” written in 1897 when he was a student at Yale. And how wonderful it is to see the group interpret Holcomb's “Wherein Lies the Good,” which so distinguished the composer's own 1996 release Little Three in a solo piano arrangement. With eleven parts encompassing a broad stylistic palette, the work could function as a stand-alone argument for The Westerlies' range, exploring as it does fanfares, folk chants, dances, dirges, and ballad sequences as it advances through its nearly fifteen-minute run. When a gorgeous hymn emerges towards the end, one's reminded of the group's penchant for lyricism as well as boisterousness, the latter spirit infusing the zestful “Golden Gate Gospel Train” and mute-smeared “Travelin' Shoes” that immediately follow. Rounding out the gospel sequence, both the minute-long “Born Ten Thousand Years Ago” and the New Orleans-styled “Do Unto Others” impress for their joyful exuberance. Sill's “The Kiss” impresses in a different way, specifically for its stately hush.

At eighteen tracks (sixteen if the three-part closer's counted as one), the recording's a thoroughly in-depth account of the group circa 2020. Yet it doesn't feel overlong, not only because many pieces are short but also due to the album's wide scope, its melodic richness, and the high level of musicianship; it's also a rare and refreshing thing to hear players so individually gifted put ego aside for the greater good of the group. All such things help make Wherein Lies the Good never less than gripping.

April 2020