There is a rare connection between the atmospherics of Scottish music and the majesty of orchestration, the two fitting together snugly and warmly, whether derived from the tradition or from artists steeped in that culture. Celtic Connections, the annual jamboree for all sounds Caledonian (and beyond), knows this, and exploits this, with seldom a year going by without some canny fusion of the worlds of classical music and folk.
Alice Allen, since graduating in 2013, with 1st class honours, from the Royal Northern College of Music, has traversed both worlds, becoming now the foremost proponent of cello in Scottish folk. Often as not found alongside Seonaid Aitken, fiddle, and Patsy Reid, viola, her playing graces any number of artists needing the heft of a string section, from Rura through to the recent Jenn Butterworth release, via the Libertines and Fat-Suit. An earlier standout has been her brace of albums, Strathspey Queens, with Patsy Reid, celebrating the compositions of James Scott Skinner and William Marshall.
Bass Culture is an orchestral suite that premiered at Celtic Connections in January of 2024, or, as Allen herself puts it: ‘rehearse brand new music for one day only…gig it once…record that gig live…and send it to you in the form of this CD’. Brave and, possibly, foolhardy, this is the result. Yes, it has been out a while, this review coming courtesy it only now reaching Folking’s editorial desk. Teaming up with, of course, Aitken and Reid, Kristan Harvey adds second violin, Duncan Lyall adds bass and Signy Jakobsdottir drums, with Rory Matheson on piano and Anna Massie on guitar, all well known names. Possibly less well known is Marit Fält, who provides Nordic mandola, unless, that is, you are familiar with Lyre, another of Allen’s collabs, the trio of her, Reid and Fält.
The Intro that opens starts initially as a scatter of slow notes, ahead becoming gradually the slow air of ‘Stuart Ballantyne’s’, reprised from Lyre’s repertoire, with added boomy bowed bass from Lyall, complementing Allen’s own rich sonority. More classical than traditional in format, as all the strings convene, it sets the scene for ‘Madeleine Rose’, itself starting with a whiff of Bach, before a sidestep into something a little more jaunty. Massie and Fält each pluck, with Matheson picking out individual notes, together a slow repeating bed over which the strings wrestle out a widescreen wagon train feel, with Jakobsdottir’s insistent rhythm beneath. Towards the end Aitken breaks into a tremendous flurry of gypsy jazz.
If it feels it has taken until that solo flourish to fully engage gears, worry not, engaged they now certainly are, for ‘Benview’, which sounds a simultaneously both moody and spiky offering to the far Highlands but is rather a tribute to a garden centre. A shorter piece, it is just the right appetiser for ‘Bootlicker’, where her passion for the groove is unveiled through extravagant shared lower register riffing, herself and Lyall. Rollicked along by Jakobsdottir’s beat, once it gets going it becomes a runaway train on course to a rave.
Need a breather? ‘Sealladh Mor’ is just that, a piano led stroll that is inescapably Caledonian. From Matheson’s solo start, as the rest of the ensemble sweep in, individually and collectively, so the atmosphere ramps up exponentially. Cello, then the violins and viola, it is glorious. To have been there must have been exceptional. But that’s enough introspection, as ‘Fury of a Stag’ is near straight back into dance territory, Jakobsdottir paving the way. It is a huge composition, bringing together the vastly different spirits of Elmer Bernstein and Jóhann Jóhannsson, all in a celebratory hoedown. Reid’s viola is on fire throughout.
Mandola picks out the beginning of ‘Jessica And Elsa’s Wedding’, a sprightly polska, with cello providing the main melody, alone, and then in gleeful string section unison, ending on a pot-pourri of pizzicato. ‘Sam’s Chicken’ then sounds to be as the wedding party is escalating, a percussion heavy hootenanny that capers into the sunset, Aitken again applying her best Hot Club de Glenrothes swagger.
It is back to the William Marshall songbook that the set closes, applicably and appropriately, given the love Allen has for strathspeys, a return trip for ‘Strathbogie Toast’. And if you think this will be merely an augmented reprise of the Allen/Reid ‘Strathspey Queens II’ version, wrongity wrong. Yes, it starts with much the same cello and viola, it then as if old William Marshall had ingested the wrong sort of mushroom and entered a rabbit hole into the late 20th century. It becomes a strings drenched disco discombobulation of no small joy. A cracking way to end the performance, the evening and the record.
However late to the party, Bass Culture is an extravagant showcase, not just for Allen, but for her A team of top-notch musicians. Trust me, if you see any of their names on the credits of an album you are uncertain of, snap it up, she and they won’t let you down.
Seuras Og
Artist’s website: www.aliceallencello.com
Here is that angry deer, ‘Fury Of A Stag’ – live:
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