The Williamsport Guardian: Black Marble's "The Devil's Canning Party"

MANDATORY MENTION: As mentioned earlier, I write bi-monthly music reviews for a local independent newspaper, The Williamsport Guardian, typically reviewing several albums each column, as well as commenting on local musical performances and events. The newspaper itself is always well-written, attractive, and full of interesting insights-- AND free-- so be sure to grab a copy if you notice it some where.
I typically like to wait until the Guardian has their new issue out and posted online, but I've received a couple of requests for this review so I'm posting early. My article from the previous issue can be found on their website.

Duende in Williamsport’s Black Marble: The Intricate Artistry of “The Devil’s Canning Party”

Black Marble is a group of Williamsport musicians fascinated by the saturation of sound, and the atmospheric qualities of sound that emerge when sounds are layered and conflicting timbres contrasted. In their latest release, the stunning “The Devil’s Canning Party”, Black Marble continue their characteristic experiments with complex guitar sounds and detailed musical interaction, violinist Lena Yeagle’s majestic violin lines and sweeping vocals coupling with Callenberger’s understated guitar and authoritative baritone. Added to this characteristic sound, however, is the sensitive and astute rhythm drummer Steve Mitchell, who through his subtle rhythmic touches and restrained energy carefully compliments the lead duo’s sound while creating the propulsive dynamics of such songs as “The Waltz” and “The Devil’s Canning Party”, as well as the clever rhythmic playfulness of “Frozen” and “Slip”.

There is a distinctive sonic intimacy in the interaction between guitarist Callenberger and violinist Yeagle, a kind of delicate privacy the listener senses in their layered voices and mingling guitar-violin lines that allows a fragile poignancy to blossom in each piece. The artistry of their compositions is illuminated through the use of their opposite voices, as well as the opposing timbres of their respective instruments, creating a diversity of sound that, when paired with the rhythmic styling of Mitchell, contributes to a broader sonic spectrum than is normally expected in a small ensemble. This dynamic holds true in both acoustic settings and heavily saturated electronic ones, and the incredible range of Black Marble is quickly revealed over the course of the album, as a diversity of sound emerges that sets each piece apart from the others without sacrificing the unifying qualities of sonic contrast and brooding emotionality that solidify the album as a whole. From the earnest simplicity of the acoustic “We Stand” to the heavy looping and multilayered complexity of “Alone”, the music of Black Marble exudes an almost mystical emotionality, a transcendent fervor that allows it to be both complex and intellectual while maintaining the humanity necessary to connect deeply to the listener.

In guitarist Alex Callenberger’s playing is revealed a preoccupation with darkness and shadow, a nighttime soundscape of muted color and saturated sound against which the artful swatches of vibrancy he casts across its surface are made still more stunning. This is especially noteworthy in the poignant “Alone”, the only true solo guitar piece of the album. In a way characteristic of his playing, Callenberger builds layers of reverb-submerged sound, his understated motifs given weight by the careful accumulation of sonic debris made subtly persistent through the use of delay. In his heavy use of effects, Callenberger avoids the cerebral chirping of other technologically minded musicians, as well as refrains from creating the processed, scientific sound that is a crutch of so many 21st century guitarists. Rather, with his smorgasbord of pedals he adds a greater intellectual artistry to his playing, finding in heavily-echoed motifs the dexterity of a sculptor, subtly affecting and manipulating the quality of his tone and the intensity of his sound to shape broad sonic portraits as compelling as traditional songs and as transformative as full symphonies. This remarkable fullness, whether emerging from a single instrument in a solo piece or from the polyphonic interactions of the band as a whole, is the saturation of sound that so fascinates Black Marble, the quality that gives their music the heft and muscle of “The Waltz” and “Devil’s Canning Party” even while nurturing the quiet delicacy of the breathtaking “Frozen” or “Enamored Ocean”.

In a setting where many bands would resort to prog-rock pyrotechnics or mathematical esotericism, the members of Black Marble use their tremendous musical ability to craft intricate sonic constructions informed by the deep humanity of their creators. Avoiding the flashiness and meaningless meandering of similarly capable musicians, Black Marble prefers to paint pictures, thinking artistically rather than with the technical detachment of many bands that strive to be innovative. Black Marble needn’t try to be compelling unique. Their music, simply in striving to touch the listener, emerges as an idiom entirely its own, defiant of typical classification but reverent toward a history of music-making that forms the basis of the band’s explorations.

Black Marble, in the kind of ironic cultural juxtaposition made possible only by art, can be said to embody the Spanish concept of duende, the paradoxical optimistic darkness that is seen in the irrational, physical response to art. In their unblinking representation of darkness, the melancholy magnification of meaning that comes from the delicate interplay of their voices and the sonic fragility of their compositions, Black Marble embody this metaphysical concept of art, which, in the words of critic Brook Zern “dilates the mind's eye, so that the intensity becomes almost unendurable,” creating a “reality so heightened and exaggerated that it becomes unreal”. This element of duende, the quality that makes an irrational shudder of icy realization tap-dance down my spine upon hearing their music, that causes me to lose sense of time and reality as I react not intellectually but physically, gutturally, to the melancholy earnestness of their song, is the magic of Black Marble, and the natural innovation of their sound. Spanish poet and thinker Frederico García Lorca describes his concept of the elusive duende, maintaining that by its mere existence it is innovative, bringing to “old planes unknown feelings of freshness, with the quality of something newly created, like a miracle, and it produces an almost religious enthusiasm." This freshness, this miraculous religious enthusiasm that inspires so powerful a response to the transformative qualities of art, is the indescribable spark Black Marble have captured and deftly crafted in “The Devil’s Canning Party”, constructing a masterpiece that transcends the boundaries of traditional music and manages to be both cerebral and deeply human.