Love-in-a-Mist, Edible

Ukranian-born, but now based in Ireland, composer Natalie Beylis locks into diaristic impulses on the devastatingly lovely and lonely Love-In-A-Mist, Edible. The premise of the album is simple – performing on pianos owned by friends and other folks, the recordings act as snapshots, capturing Beylis in exploratory mode, feeling out what each instrument can do, or perhaps, what the instruments compel Beylis to do. It’s ruminative, sure, as she’s approaching each piano ‘unheard’, but she’s also cognisant that the music happens in context, in rooms and other spaces, and she lets the sounds of those spaces in. It’d feel voyeuristic if it wasn’t presented in such a welcoming manner – Beylis’s playfulness invites the listener in; you’re complicit.