Living legend of improvised music, Limpe Fuchs, freely elides avant jazz and lieder with an incandescent, exploratory spirit on this vibrant suite recorded in her 80s and arriving on the heels of an epic odyssey with longtime acolyte and pal, Mark Fell.
Landing as part of play loud! publishing’s admirable reissue program for Limpe’s solo works, and alongside husband Paul Fuchs as Anima-Sound among others, ‘Amor’ depicts the peerless octogenarian at her favoured keys, setting poems by Augusta Laar, Giordano Bruno, Hilde Domin and Serge Kahili King as expressive, mercurial, solo piano love notes. Renowned for a Midas musical touch applied to practically anything that can make a sound, Limpe here mostly reserves herself to piano with only minor frissons of percussion that depart from the combo of keyboard and voice, which tells of an ever-deepening, animist relationship with her instruments and inestimable, intuitive weltanschauung.
Limpe’s piano playing and vocalising radiates wanderlust and joy on this recording, which demonstrates no sign of her creative energies letting slip, and if anything, only enhanced by the passage of time, correlating her observant ear attuned to the instrument’s capacity for conveying the spectrum of her feelings. A longheld, fine-honed percussionist’s meter informs the pointillist precision or her stop/start, extended lines of melodic thought, ribboning from fingers in a discrete topology of real time flow that opens out intimate inner landscapes with a quality comparable to the effortlessness of Emahoy Tsegue Mariam Gebru, if she grew up thru the post-wars years of Germany’s avant garde, with knowledge of what binds classical, folk, theatre, cabaret, to a kernel of universal musical truth.
You can almost see a candle flickering in the rich negative space shadowplay of ‘Die Liebe’, where Limpe almost recalls the romance of Diamanda Galás, whilst the jazz-bluesier vamps of ’Something’ lament a haunted figure with a dramaturgy reminiscent of Scott Walker, while ‘Haiku’ allows for more nerve-jangling, piano gut plucks convolving her broad map of distilled Eastern and Western traditions.’Trommeln’ nudges the framework to juxtapose quizzical keys with shocking discordant strikes and rumbles of percussion, next to her automobile ode ‘Verliebte Autos im Wald’ resting Augustus Laar’s poem to keys that clearly impart a jaunty sense of motion speaking to many decades on the road, and ‘Amor’ signs off with the sort of preternatural turn of classical, folk, and jazz phrasing that has made Limpe’s catalogue so extraordinary in its field.
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Living legend of improvised music, Limpe Fuchs, freely elides avant jazz and lieder with an incandescent, exploratory spirit on this vibrant suite recorded in her 80s and arriving on the heels of an epic odyssey with longtime acolyte and pal, Mark Fell.
Landing as part of play loud! publishing’s admirable reissue program for Limpe’s solo works, and alongside husband Paul Fuchs as Anima-Sound among others, ‘Amor’ depicts the peerless octogenarian at her favoured keys, setting poems by Augusta Laar, Giordano Bruno, Hilde Domin and Serge Kahili King as expressive, mercurial, solo piano love notes. Renowned for a Midas musical touch applied to practically anything that can make a sound, Limpe here mostly reserves herself to piano with only minor frissons of percussion that depart from the combo of keyboard and voice, which tells of an ever-deepening, animist relationship with her instruments and inestimable, intuitive weltanschauung.
Limpe’s piano playing and vocalising radiates wanderlust and joy on this recording, which demonstrates no sign of her creative energies letting slip, and if anything, only enhanced by the passage of time, correlating her observant ear attuned to the instrument’s capacity for conveying the spectrum of her feelings. A longheld, fine-honed percussionist’s meter informs the pointillist precision or her stop/start, extended lines of melodic thought, ribboning from fingers in a discrete topology of real time flow that opens out intimate inner landscapes with a quality comparable to the effortlessness of Emahoy Tsegue Mariam Gebru, if she grew up thru the post-wars years of Germany’s avant garde, with knowledge of what binds classical, folk, theatre, cabaret, to a kernel of universal musical truth.
You can almost see a candle flickering in the rich negative space shadowplay of ‘Die Liebe’, where Limpe almost recalls the romance of Diamanda Galás, whilst the jazz-bluesier vamps of ’Something’ lament a haunted figure with a dramaturgy reminiscent of Scott Walker, while ‘Haiku’ allows for more nerve-jangling, piano gut plucks convolving her broad map of distilled Eastern and Western traditions.’Trommeln’ nudges the framework to juxtapose quizzical keys with shocking discordant strikes and rumbles of percussion, next to her automobile ode ‘Verliebte Autos im Wald’ resting Augustus Laar’s poem to keys that clearly impart a jaunty sense of motion speaking to many decades on the road, and ‘Amor’ signs off with the sort of preternatural turn of classical, folk, and jazz phrasing that has made Limpe’s catalogue so extraordinary in its field.