Lucy Railton’s new album Blue Veil isolates the moment when a cello’s bow makes contact with the strings and presents it as a miniature Big Bang, a crucible of tension and friction that burns fiercely on a level that’s too small to see.
In a fascinating interview with German writer Stephan Kunze, the UK composer and cellist described the experience of playing her instrument as like “standing next to a guitar amp,” and Blue Veil does everything it can to make you feel the vibrations short of grabbing your face and pressing it up against the strings.
Though Railton found a nice old Paris church in which to record these seven pieces, we don’t hear any of the space in the music. Rather, she distills some sort of platonic ideal of cello-ness.
« Sun-Mi Hong – Fourth Page; Meaning of a Nest (2025) Satomimagae – Taba (2025) »
