ALBUM REVIEW: The Cartographer – Jo Quail

There is a widespread attitude towards contemporary classical music that it is more or less inaccessible; that it is the preserve of ‘real’ musicians and students of music theory. That attitude isn’t without warrant. All the same, audiences will eagerly enjoy soundtracks and scores without a second thought. What we need is something more immediate, more visual, more cinematic, to attach ourselves to when music becomes wilfully abstract, and it’s here that JO QUAIL has really excelled herself with The Cartographer. Originally commissioned for Roadburn Festival’s 2020 edition, but performed for the first time at the festival just a few weeks ago, The Cartographer builds bridges between the contemporary classical world and heavy music.

Alongside artists such as A. A. WILLIAMS, LINGUA IGNOTA and EINAR SELVIK, JO QUAIL enjoys the recognition of the metal scene without really operating within it. She makes a compelling counterexample to the puritanical image which the genre projects, bringing an acoustic instrument into amplified spaces. The cellist/composer has been releasing music since 2010 and, over the course of four albums (as well as a handful of collaborative efforts), she has made a name for herself with sophisticated and subtle compositions which do not compromise on their raw, emotional intent.

The Cartographer benefits from a certain Rick Wakeman-esque grandeur, but without falling prey to the temptations of progressive maximalism. Although it is deliberately cinematic, moments of tension accumulate naturally without the artifice of rhythm to dictate the momentum. These crescendos are artfully dispersed amongst moments of extraordinary subtlety, and steer clear of the rollercoaster-like predictability of most post-rock fare.

It’s a lingering, almost rhizomatic experience, as though the same destination has been approached from many angles, with plenty of tangents and detours along the way. It’s easy to feel lost in places, which is pleasingly anticipated by the navigational title, but a few more landmarks in the way of motifs or spoken-word passages wouldn’t have gone amiss either. The mind has a peculiar way of perceiving a structure where there is none, and The Cartographer is often as much an exercise in one’s own imagination as it is in Quail’s. All the same we do get the satisfaction of a conclusion, albeit marked by an upshift in tonal intensity rather than musical force. 

The Cartographer is as ambitious in its conception as it is successful in its execution, and represents an entirely new scale to JO QUAIL’s compositional vision. More artists than not will say that they are uninhibited by the strictures of genre conventions, but very few can truly make good on this claim. You get the impression that the cellist/composer is not interested in transgressing these boundaries for their own sake, and is instead lead by something altogether more inspired and original. This is a dark and fascinating piece which brings sophistication to heavy music without the overtones of contemporary classical pretence.

Rating: 8/10

The Cartographer is out now via By Norse Music.

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