Catherine Lamb’s interius/exterius positions both performers and listeners in a space that is at once mathematical, scientific, magical and serene. Out May 9 on greyfade, the premiere recording of this fascinating, experimental new work is masterfully interpreted and executed by Ghost Ensemble. The unconventional nonet consists of flute (Margaret Lancaster), oboe (Sky Macklay), harp (Lucia Stavros), viola (Martine Thomas), cello (Tyler J. Borden), and two contrabasses (James Ilgenfritz and Gregory Chudzik), and is sweetened by the droning textures of accordion (Ben Richter), and twinkling sonorities of hammered dulcimer (Chris Nappi).
Lamb began workshopping various iterations of the work’s generative methodology with the ensemble in early 2022. interius/exterius was premiered at Roulette Intermedium in New York City in December of that year, and subsequently recorded in 2024. In addition to hi-res digital downloads, greyfade will be releasing a special vinyl pressing, limited to 300 copies.
Consistent with her well established practice, Lamb devised a special tuning system that inspires a transcendent, macrocosmic perspective, from considering the tiniest neutrino (also known as the “ghost particle”) to observations of distant galaxies and, perhaps, to detecting the origins of the universe. The harmonic material is derived from a theoretical fundamental pitch that, at 10hz, falls outside the human audible range and yet sets alight a series of overtones that literally cause Lamb’s music to manifest from a point beyond the limits of perception.
As the work’s eponym suggests, its organizing principle is an “inward/outward” implication that sculpts the movement of sound throughout the ensemble. In my experience listening to the work, the way “inward” and “outward” were being defined wasn’t immediately apparent. I came away instead with a sense of contrast in densities and scarcities. As the overtones that emerge from Lamb’s mystic 10hz fundamental grow increasingly further apart, the orchestration moves from more lusciously textured instruments in lower octaves (such as the double contrabasses, oboe, viola and cello) to the metallic, crystalline and airy sonorities of the flute, harp, accordion and hammered dulcimer in higher octaves and over harmonic nodes.
A definite music emerges from the internal and external sonic modes that Lamb creates, however they may be defined. I was at first tempted to describe the contrast of moving between them like removing cotton from your ears, but it’s more like imagining you hear the sound of the ocean when you hold a seashell up to your ear, then pulling it away to hear the actual surf crashing in the open air.
In the first movement, we are simultaneously enveloped by the internal and external worlds of the work. The density of jagged-edged low strings and oboe form the core, with points of sound from harp and dulcimer orbiting this nucleus at a scarcer elevation. Listening deeply, I felt as though I was sitting by the fire on a cold winter’s day while snowflakes occasionally drifted in through an open window; they linger gently before succumbing to the warmth of the room and melting into their new environment. In one instance, the textures of lower octave strings and clusters of accordion tones give way to middle-range perfect fifths that reveal a sudden consonance at the center of Lamb’s spectrum.
Movement II opens dramatically on a single note in the contrabass that blooms with transparent purity as the broadly spaced exterior world seems to rain down on the ground it establishes. Movement III brings a rhythmic dimensionality and a feeling of driving urgency that propels things forward. Even with its surprising brevity, the emotional movement IV transmits the spirit of a lamentation or dirge. Stopping abruptly just shy of two minutes, the track pushes the listener into the churning chaos of the silence that follows. In movement V, the solo entrance of ringing harp harmonics separated by gentle, microtonal proximities offer some reassurance, and with a similarly short duration, it feels like a study of the opposite side of the same coin.
The attacca between movements V and VI is like stepping out of a humid greenhouse onto a vast, icy plane. The glittering, pointed textures of harp and dulcimer in duet twinkle again from high orbit. We return to the earth in this vehicle, as the pitches descend toward the interior space carried by the pure and glass-like sonority of plucked strings. While roughly 33 minutes in duration, there is a fleeting quality to interius/exterius that had me longing to hear more. Each movement exhibits subtle uniqueness conveyed by shifting sonorous qualities and delicate, rhythmic dynamism. It would be tempting to describe the general shape and character as droning – but there is clear method and intention supporting the manifest melodic structures and deeply complex, spectral harmonic palette that Lamb pushes the performers to explore. Her musical gestures are therefore not monolithic. Each combination of sound, movement, and their ongoing transformations exhibit a kind of opalescence that cannot immediately be captured by the ear. This music does not exist in a zoned out space, but demands careful, detailed listening. As Lamb remarks, “the subject of deep listening, in the spirit of Pauline Oliveros, is absolutely central to the piece.”
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