#Doug Haldeman

[filosofablogger]

A Little Thing Called "Integrity"

I quit my job once after working at the company for just over a year.  Why?  It was a small company owned by one woman who could at times be sweet as syrup, and at other times unreasonable as a two-year-old child.  At the end of the year, in preparing the financial statements that would be used as a basis for filing that year’s taxes, she told me to record a large number of her personal…

[sinceileftyoublog]

Dawn Richard & Spencer Zahn Album Review: Pigments

(Merge)

BY JORDAN MAINZER

For the past 10 years, Dawn Richard has been a shapeshifter, releasing a trilogy of art pop albums, a traditional R&B record, and a New Orleans fusion collection, not to mention countless stellar remixes. Now, the former Danity Kane and Dirty Money member has found a true creative complement in multi-instrumentalist Spencer Zahn. Though they previously collaborated on Zahn’s first record People of the Dawn, on Pigments, their debut collaborative LP, they find a common compositional voice, resulting in Richard’s strongest statement yet as a singer-songwriter and newfound instrumental depth for Zahn. Structured in two movements, with segues between the tracks, Pigments is a seamless assembling of dreamlike, self-empowered words and hopeful instrumentals.

As if to set the stage for Richard, Pigments begins without her, on the trickling and peaceful “Coral”, shining with Doug Wieselman’s clarinet, Mike Haldeman’s guitar, and Zahn’s scratchy synths. By the time Richard starts singing on second track “Sandstone”, you can hear the richness of her vocals fusing with Zahn and company’s playing. “Dreamer / I wanna love like you / I wanna see the world through your eyes,” she sings in a statement of oneness. On “Vantablack”, her pronouncements of Black self-love intertwine with Jas Walton’s tenor sax and Zahn’s bendy upright bass; “I wanna get lost in your brown skin,” she coos.

It’s not all tranquil. The second half of Pigments offers Richard an opportunity for expressive confession. “Are you hurting like you’re hurting me?” she asks on the glassy “Cerulean”, alongside distorted, doomy electric guitars and swirling saxophone. Even the instrumentals become questionable in mood, from the stark, crystalline “Opal” to the stunning “Sienna”, whose plaintive subdued clarinet, weepy strings, and guitars are threatened by an eerie undercurrent of chirping synthesizers and vibraphone. Pigments generally succeeds as a feeling: Romantic and inexplicably heartbreaking, “Saffron” sees Richard repeating, “Can you save me the last dance?”, Zahn’s upright bass and piano conjuring images of smoky rooms and desperation. Richard pleads on the thumping climax “Crimson”, asking, “Can you wait for me?” You feel for her.

Ultimately, closer “Umber” is the sound of waking up, a day anew, chugging but gentle. “Imma climb this mountain,” Richard declares, “And I’m never gonna stop.” Traversing different visual, sonic, and emotional hues, Pigments finds its way.

[luuurien]

Dawn Richard & Spencer Zahn - Pigments

(Ambient Pop, Chamber Jazz, Post-Minimalism)

Built on dreamy chamber jazz but colored with everything from ambient pop to post-minimalist electronica, Dawn Richard and Spencer Zahn's new collaborative album is transformative to the fullest extent. Pushing both artists into new territory, Pigments is a daring and enormous statement for them as individuals and as a team.

☆☆☆☆☆

Pigments sounds absolutely nothing like the music Dawn Richard nor Spencer Zahn have released in the past, yet it's such a clear and natural progression for them both. It's this flow of energy and ease of movement Pigments sinks itself into, Richard and Zahn melting into one another across 11 marvelous pieces that never settle down even as they build some of the most beautiful ambient jazz atmospheres in recent years, their respective musical histories blooming in electrifying new ways where it seems like both Richard’s futuristic R&B and Zahn’s pensive modern classical were heading towards the same destination all along. As a result, Pigments feels both deeply innovative and remarkably natural, the duo fully assured in their vision along with the seven other instrumentalists behind Richard and Zahn helping to make their world a reality, each slyly psychedelic arrangements and the duo’s willingness to step back and let the music guide itself keeps the album at a gradual pace while holding an iron grip on your heart the whole way through. Zahn’s arrangements are the backbone of Pigments and bring out his best work in years, still within the elegant classical realm of his previous releases but stretched out into dreamy electronica and chilly chamber jazz as his and Richard’s cleansing new age world comes to life. With his nine-piece orchestra comprised of clarinet/bass clarinetists Stuart Bogie and Doug Weiselman, guitarists Mike Haldeman and Kirk Schoenherr, cello/viola/violinist Malcom Parson, drummer Dave Scalia, flute/tenor saxophonist Jas Walton, vocalist Dawn Richard, and Zahn himself, Pigments largely eschews darker textures in favor of light and agile compositions that aren’t bogged down with the weight of heavy bass brass or electronics and can take flight whenever he needs them to: Sandstone starts off quiet and mysterious before Richard’s manipulated vocals cast a neon sheen atop Zahn’s electronics and soft woodwind accompaniment, but quickly expands into a soaring rapture of heavenly strings, brisk acoustic guitar and Zahn’s velvety vibraphone arpeggios; Vantablack creates a border of shuffling drums and thick bass clarinet for Richard’s voice to drift in and out of; the gentle bass drum pulse and minimal instrumentation in Umber help bring the album to a soft but utterly gorgeous finish. Richard’s voice isn’t the leading force it tends to be in her solo work - rather, it’s another instrument she and Zahn use to create Pigments’ rich hues, slathering it in reverb or autotune to give it just the right feel for Cerulean’s cavernous romance or Saffron’s glowing hopefulness, the album’s three-movement classical structure and otherworldly sound palette working to benefit Richard’s sumptuous vocals and Zahn’s wildest dreams as a composer. It’s a perfect combination, and not once does the magic fade. That three movement structure never seems to stop the album from smoothly transitioning from one piece to another, either, instead splitting the album up into three moods you can dig into for specific feelings - these songs aren’t named after colors for no reason, after all. The first movement, starting at opener Coral and closing out with Vantablack, offers up the album’s bolder and more ethereal tones, the former track setting the stage with clear woodwind tones and delicate strings that seamlessly move into Sandstone’s wintry chamber jazz, the spacious interlude Indigo after it a bold but quick delight before Vantablack’s patient vocals and dark, earthy tones bring the first movement to a marvelous finish. In contrast, the second movement is much warmer with a greater emphasis on electronics and ambiance: Cerulean is almost entirely guided by Zahn’s synth programming before swelling into a celestial explosion of improvised saxophone and searing strings - there’s even a guitar solo thrown in for good measure - and the five-minute Sienna forgoes Richard’s vocals entirely, the most fragile Pigments ever gets with its icy synth tones and ever so gentle instrumentation. That’s not even to mention Opal and Saffron, their inclusion of prominent acoustic guitar adding a pastoral touch to Zahn’s expansive dreamspace before a gentle groove and crossroads of saxophone and upright bass dance around one another. The final three tracks, then, strive for a luminosity and elegance in both their titling and sound, Crimson’s angelic lead vocals bolstered by rumbling bass and golden strings, as rich in hue as the color of its title but with the sharp edge of each syllable leaving your lips. Cobalt, though another interlude, is one of the album’s loveliest, the soft yet handsome blue of its color found in each new wave of clarinet and the glistening synths that sit behind them - a perfect way to lead into the album’s spotless finale, Umber. The only track with something close to a solid groove all the way  - though it’s little more than a constant kick drum about halfway in - Richard and Zahn cease the moment to embrace meditation rather than a huge, unforgettable finish. Richard’s backing vocals float about like a lingering memory; bass clarinet and synth wrap around one another to fill the lower side of the mix; Zahn’s ambient electronics keep the song heading further and further up into the clouds. It’d be easy to grow into something huge and inhuman, the profound energy of Cerulean dipped in molten lava, but Pigments isn’t that kind of album. It’s slow and willing to linger, and it’s all the better for it. Like many left-field jazz and electronic albums in recent years, Pigments succeeds not simply because of its transcendent sound and mystical energy, but also in spite of them, staying remarkably grounded and in touch with the human spirit even as Richard and Zahn approach levels of ambient bliss that could only ever materialize on an ice planet hiding a tropical forest under the surface, mercurial in sound yet entirely unified in its search for peace and stability. The combined wonders of their music as individuals merge into one story and one feeling, Pigments as much about their history as artists as it is the shared understanding of the world that drives their music, in constant pursuit of captivation and new energy wherever it may be hiding - it's a blessing these magnificent chamber jazz pieces were where the moment took them. Pigments manages to mesmerize through its sheer commitment to peerless songcraft and atmospheres that are both alien and tactile at once, a delicate world Richard and Zahn imbue with unspeakable beauty and eternal love in every moment.

This review is part of the ALL I MISSED: 2022, where I review all the albums I didn't get to from last year.