It’s always a great surprise when you find the media of film and music intertwining perfectly, like an Ouroboros. If you add to this the extra bonus of poetry, you get yourself Farewell Poetry‘s latest release, Hoping for the invisible to ignite.
Circling around a piece de resistance called ‘As true as Troilus’, the EP (it’s 40 minutes long, though), Hoping for the invisible to ignite is like a baroque church altar: there’s a lot of stylish pieces in the relieves that might feel gaudy, but they all have a reason (and a symbolic weight) justifying their existence.
Let’s start with the one track (20 minutes, long live long tracks!) that seems to have the most weight given to. ‘As true as Troilus’ not only mixes poetry, post rock and chamber pop in a tightly knit package, but also sports a performance piece (in black and white – natch!) that is included in the physical edition of the album (in crisp, DVD format). The film piece (directed by the same person who wrote the poem and performs it in the album, Jayne Amara Ross) is a strange piece with its references (and feet) firmly planted in Troilus and Criseyde. Jayne Amara Ross’ lyrics come from the point of view from someone finding a connection with said story. Madness, unrequited love and a choice between being a Pollyanna or a Holden Caufield. The film is beautiful with a few disturbing moments that make it a more succinct, powerful message.
By the way: You might want to skip the following paragraph.
PRETENTIOUS REVIEWER ALERT – Unfounded interpretation (you’ve been warned): I love that the film is black and white, it conveys the message that Troilus dilemma is not a multiple choice problem, but a “yes” or “no” proposition, as in “yes, I’m going to stick around and see if Criseyde takes me” or “no, screw that bint, let’s go meet someone new.”
Back to our review. Tracks 2 & 3, called ‘All in the full, indomitable light of hope (part I)’ and ‘All in the full, indomitable light of hope (part II)’, are beautiful, haunting instrumental pieces that again feature a slowly shushed poetry. I’d hate to tag them as post-rock so let’s call them art. It’s full of emotion (love the violin in ‘Part I’ before the poetry) and it might get slightly scary with the lights out. Whereas ‘Part I’ is very slow and gloomy, ‘Part II’ goes for very dreamy atmospheres (how I love that fast guitar pick attack). It feels like hope after despairing for a long period in your life; the Gordian knot in your heart has been untangled, you are drowning in sorrows no more.
However, there might be a terrible twist in the end. The last track, ‘In dreams airlifted out’ does feel unnerving. Something is not right. Something is moving in the dark and has seen that we are in a happy state. It gazes at us. What will it do?
What became of us, no one will know. Hoping for the invisible to ignite simply ends, like Tony Soprano‘s life. Is it just an ending? Is it dead? We will never find out, but we relish the fact of the experience we had. Farewell poetry, hard to categorise in a genre (not that genres are useful anyway -either you like it or not), easy to get mesmerised by.