Fringe by the Sea: Esther Swift: Sound Effects

Fringe By The Sea Lodge Stage, North Berwick - 09/08/23 

Innovative and genre-bending harpist Esther Swift was originally commissioned by Celtic Connections to produce this cycle of songs. After three days in Edinburgh’s piano-drome she leaves town for North Berwick along with percussionist Ewan Williams, Emma Lloyd on violin/viola and Patrick Kenny wielding trombone, with a surprise mystery instrument to be revealed later. Lastly, an enriching, enveloping soundscape is provided by Matt Collings on Mac-Book.  

Swift has a lovely voice, clear and strong for some songs, ethereal for others like this cycle’s opener, ‘The Call’. Here, nature calls to us to remember her; at the same time the style of the piece has the instruments dipping in and out alongside, often fleetingly; deliberate but a-rhythmic, evoking the literal soundscape of a healthy countryside with intermittent cheeps, croaks, rustlings and scuttlings. Williams contributes on xylophone and with deep bowings on a sort of electric rod.  

‘Meta-Data’ seeks to protest the effects of internet over-dosage. It is more uncomfortable to hear, with Williams crossing over to drumkit for sharp bursts, jousting with the viola’s capricious sweeps and stabs. Swift incorporates many genres, notably modern jazz, with impro and (judicious) dissonance and staccato. The ethos is open and expressive but not self-indulgent.   

To me, the compositional style of this song-cycle resembles a Kandinsky painting. It can seem disjointed and challenge the uninitiated. But even if you don’t immediately find it “easy”, it does reward attention or engagement. At times I tried attentively to analyse; at other times I closed my eyes and, abandoning mankind’s primal addiction to a steady beat, allowed myself to relax into the experience. Either way of listening brought rewards. Afterwards, an audience member who hadn’t Googled Swift beforehand, and had expected I-don’t-know-what said, smiling, “I didn’t exactly enjoy it. But I really get it!” 

The relaxed approach especially suited Scottish lullaby ‘Dream Angus’ (Angus the Sleep God, not the county), with soothing plucks and putters and – tiny snores? Perhaps the closest to a traditionally rhythmic number was when Swift (using her power-voice mode) sang poet Rachel McCrum’s ‘The First Blast to Awaken Women Degenerate’. The poem takes John Knox’s infamously misogynistic diatribe against the “monstrous regiment of women” and turns it on its head, to glorify “gorilla/ beefy/ flamingo/ deranged/ monstrous” women, with deep growls and “Brvrvrv”s.  

‘Lateral Flow’ flings the music of frustration around spoken instructions for the Covid home test, and the titular ‘Sound Effects’ features Edwin Morgan, Glasgow’s poet laureate (“a socialist, but very fun and empathetic”). Swift had been so captivated by the sing-song of his every-day speech, she recorded an excerpt, sampling short phrases which repeated ceaselessly and light-heartedly throughout the song like a colourful paper-chain. 

For the last song  Kenny constructs before our eyes  a 12 foot  alphorn as the mood returns to the soothing, shimmering ambience of the opener. More sounds of tranquil nature: bees hum, crickets sing, linnets ruffle wings, lake water laps – W.B. Yeats’ ‘The Lake Isle of Innisfree’ conjured to musical life makes a delicious ending, leaving this listener just where she wanted to be: at peace.