Solitude • Reginald Mobley
This album is a type of crossover production, one that stylistically was cohesive enough to work, combining voice, lute or guitar, and either bass or gamba. The central pieces surround the composers Purcell and Dowland; with 72 minutes for the recording, the final pieces take inspiration from the African American experience. It’s a continuation of Mobley’s earlier Alpha recording, which I did not review.
I’ve long admired Reginald Mobley’s singing as a countertenor, with YouTube videos being my first introduction. Upon hearing his Purcell, I thought he was the perfect interpreter.
The album opens with “Tis Nature’s Voice” from 1692. Mobley’s diction is strong. He uses vibrato, but selectively, which I think is ideal. His voice for me is versatile, supported well by the location they recorded this album.
The second track is “Music for A While,” for me, one of Purcell’s profound masterpieces. The team at Alpha recorded this so sympathetically that one’s room is filled to the brim with the sound of Mobley’s voice and his instrumental peers with the cleanest sound. While my mood is somewhat to blame, I found my first listen of this track leaving me in a profound mess of tears. This was a world-class production, and the results are profoundly amazing.
Go Perjured Man doesn’t have the magical musical signature of Purcell, but the ensemble here continues their high standards to bring Robert Herrick’s poetry to life.
The Eccles Ground is performed here by bass lute and gamba as an instrumental interlude; one that carries a gravitas that well-matches the beauty of both Purcell’s and Dowland’s music. The two instruments blend well, with the bass lute sounding particularly ripe, with each pull of the low notes resonating within my chest.
The lute comes out with exquisite detail in the “Flow my Tears” by Dowland. I’m familiar with Brandon Acker from his YouTube videos, but I have not heard him in a duet setting like this. His playing is really good.
“Sorrow, stay” is from the same book (Dowland’s second), and it’s totally possible to linger on each of Mobley’s phrases, relishing in the beauty of his tone and sound. He’s able to rise and hide behind the lute, perfectly balanced, I think, in the two musician’s collaboration.
“Sam” and “Ely of July” are written by the bassist Douglas Balliett. The pieces feature the poetry of Crystal Simone Smith. While Mobley applies a similar vocal approach, the pieces to me step away from a baroque aesthetic, making me think instead of a style that has a place on a Broadway stage or a hit movie. Mobley’s higher range is used in “Sam” and while it’s limited, he’s got great control.
Woody’s “Ain’t you my child” takes on a full baroque sound with guitar and gamba, not to mention the harmonic language.
This album’s strengths are in the quality of sound, the strong instrumental contributions, and the range of emotion that we get with Mobley’s voice. The songs and instrumental numbers, together, despite when they were written, capture significantly deep human emotions. Stripped bare of unnecessary elaborations, the poetry is presented sensitively and simply. For those of us familiar with the baroque selections from England, the combination of pieces here provide engaging music all around, with the benefit of hearing pieces that retell the stories of western civilization’s darkest history. Such gravitas goes beyond a mere love story, which is what many pieces from the baroque were preoccupied with. Yet music can respond to things darker and deeper.
I had to go back and listen to Purcell's O Solitude again and how that plucked bass resonates? And Mobley's voice, and the detail with his anunciation? This is special stuff, indeed. Relish it!
It’s not often that an album can move me so. I was impressed with so many of the subtle details, from the way Mobley leans into dissonance, or the ornaments from the guitar. I am hoping these three musicians collaborate again, and soon.
