Nate Wooley - Henry House (Ideologic Organ, 2024)

 

By Sarah "FLAKE" Grosser

For those who fear that the concept behind Nate Wooley’s 80 minute five-piece epic might be a little hard to get your head around, let me start by breaking it down into simple terms for you:

Firstly – and most notably – for this record, Wooley has abandoned his trumpet. He does not perform at all. Instead, Henry House is composed of five pieces, all based around poetry that he spliced together based on four core texts:

• The words are collaged together with additional subtle changes.
• There are two main literary themes: These are tracks one and two.
• The last three tracks are interpolations of those two.
• The first piece features vibraphone overtones, the third is horns, and the final is piano.
• The second and fourth are both voice layerings, with some water and frog sounds.
• So it has an odd, even, odd, even, odd pattern going.
• It’s meditative, avant-garde and absurd.

Listening to it through in one go makes for a more impactful ending, as you follow the story both musically and lyrically, developing in long stretches and finally reaching its heavy, satisfying conclusion on piano and quarter tone piano, played by Laura Barger and Cory Smythe.

It’s obvious that Wooley has put a huge amount of thought into this massive work. What’s really appealing is the way that tracks one, three, and five fit together instrumentally. The vibraphones, played by Russell Greenberg and Matt Moran, sound like pure sine waves – very long, with consistent sustain, and almost zero attack, making it practically impossible to distinguish how the sound has been produced. The overtones here are divine, as they are throughout the record; spine-tingling, magical, and beautifully subtle. Some of the stranger chords achieved in the second and fourth vocal-layering pieces remind of the more dissonant moments of John Zorn’s acapella group, but this is all overdubs by the one singer, Megan Schubert. The long, soft horns of the quartet in track three create a phasing effect that sweeps around in circles. Peter Evans (trumpet), Dan Peck (tuba) Mattie Barbier and Weston Olencki (trombones) and are to thank for this. Even the deep, low hum of the sub bass frequencies at the beginning of the piece resonate under the skin, and down to the bone.

There are, believe it or not, ten artists performing on this album, which is quite a coordinated effort. Given its introverted mood, and the gentle silences among the music and text, a sense of intimacy is created in each track, and the space between only adds to the illusion that you are alone in a room with just two or three artists at one moment. The spoken word parts are performed only a few lines at a time, in small bursts, and are responded to by the musicians. This is another common theme throughout the record, and the listener falls into the rhythm of spoken text and music, one after the other.

Interesting layerings of chords throughout each chapter continue to engage, and although the readings become almost trancelike in their absurdity, Mat Mineri's deep, articulate voice especially lulls the listener into a kind of relaxing meditation. The lyrics weave together Wooley’s collage of ideas of what Henry’s character represents: “a guilty purchase meant to be used and discarded,” “a forgotten fad”, “a soft unattended, and absurd moment,” “a failed event.” It’s sombre and contemplative, and with each tessellating burst of spoken word and song, the opportunity to reflect on both is presented. The poetic weirdness sometimes causes the imagination to drift, but this allows for new discoveries and focal points with each relisten.

I have not been able to stop thinking about, or listening to Henry House by Nate Wooley for the last week: so subtle, delicate, and patient. Incredibly layered, and meticulously conceptualized. Introspective and private…

But enough about Henry.

Let’s put it this way:

He gets blessings from me.

That is true.