<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>- Where to begin with <em>Cinéaste</em>? Contemporary-classical composer Andrée Greenwell’s impressive portfolio of scores for film, TV and even live theatre come together in this expansive twenty-two-track digital album with a <em>lot</em> to say. With her track record of creating eerie, avant-garde and post-punk performances such as <em>Sweet Death</em>, a chamber opera about a girl who quite literally overdoses on pastries, or her 2016 album <em>Gothic</em>, you wouldn’t be entirely mistaken for expecting this to follow in those footprints.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>

<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>The opening track, simply titled <em>Trio</em>, perfectly toes the line between beauty and the macabre. There’s a video accompanying this piece made up of shots of natural environments intercut with footage of moths trapped in a spider’s web. This mix is quite dry at first, which adds to this natural, earthy aesthetic Greenwell’s chosen for the video. Violin and cello play a duet with very little reverb obscuring either part as they weave with one another. As the music takes a turn, electronics cutting above the strings before pervading the sound altogether, a spider seizes two of the moths, enveloping and paralysing them in seconds. It ends with long, drawn-out echoing of electronica.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>

<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>The album does, however, have its moments of light in the darkness with tracks such as <em>Spanish Cowboy</em>. It’s a strange little piece- just over a minute in length, like most of the works on the album. With its <strong>Phillip Glass </strong>sequencing and <strong>Stelvio Cipriani </strong>melody, the piece has a sultry, lilting melody with an improvisational feel.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>

<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>On the opposite end of the spectrum, <em>Cinéaste</em> has tracks such as <em>Fire </em>and <em>Maria Walks</em>, both instrumental reductions of previously performed vocal works from <em>Listen to me</em><em> </em>and <em>Gothic</em> respectively. The effect of both these is infinitely more palpable in the original recording before the vocal line was removed in this album. <em>Fire</em>, with its spoken word voice over by <strong>Candy Royalle </strong>recalling the trauma of gendered violence, loses some meaning without these vocals. However, with the screeching tenor saxophone becoming more and more raw as the piece progresses, <em>Cinéaste</em>’s version of the track still maintains that same on-edge, looking-over-your-shoulder tension.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>

<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>This album is a journey through genre, with an expert approach to post-minimalism and the merging of electronica and acoustic instrumentation. These pieces don’t feel like studies, however, or works made simply to experiment with various soundscapes: each work evokes a scene, or a memory, or even just a feeling. The world of soundtracks is wallpapered with bland backgrounds; at the very least <em>Cinéaste </em>proves there's something more viscerally alive in Andrée Greenwell.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>

<p><span><span><span><span><span><span>- Alison Paris.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>
<iframe style="border: 0; width: 100%; height: 120px;" src="https://bandcamp.com/EmbeddedPlayer/album=3804176885/size=large/bgcol=f…; seamless><a href="https://andreegreenwell.bandcamp.com/album/cin-aste-volume-1">CINÉASTE Volume 1 by Andrée Greenwell</a></iframe>