The New Yorker - 13.04.2020

THE NEWYORKER, APRIL 13, 2020 7

ILLUSTRATION BY QIEER WANG

There remains something powerful

about black musicians creating outside

the bounds of genre, and Yves Tumor’s

artistic impulses are as sonically defiant

as they are destructive. “Heaven to a Tor-

tured Mind” is a passionate world unto

itself, an album that converts enigma into

star power and strikes a potent balance

between the cerebral and the visceral.

The mind can identify the compositional

brilliance of “Gospel for a New Century,”

the lush musicality of “Kerosene!,” or the

sumptuous vocal textures of “A Greater

Love,” but even when those qualities blur

into an unidentifiable oblivion—as on

the phenomenally unhinged “Medicine

Burn”—it’s the goosebumps on the arms,

the tightening of the chest, the butterflies

in the stomach that imprint Yves Tu-

mor’s music on the soul. To try to define

it is to miss the point.—Briana Younger

EXPERIMENTAL MUSIC

effects; there’s a sleek sense of displacement,

with synthesizer lines glowing like neon tubing

over loose drums. The set builds almost imper-

ceptibly until, near the end, the late Hi-NRG

pioneer Patrick Cowley’s romping “Get a Little”

explodes the tension.—Michaelangelo Matos

Empress Of:

“I’m Your Empress Of ”

ELECTRO-POP As Empress Of, Lorely Rodriguez

creates shimmery electro-pop with a subtle

dance pulse. On her new album, “I’m Your

Empress Of,” that kinetic energy completely

spills over: songs such as “Love Is a Drug” and

“Give Me Another Chance” are charged with

a tinselly menagerie of upbeat club and house

influences. Her approach is decisive and full of

adrenaline, but she brings sensitivity to the vol-

canic production; Rodriguez’s mother’s voice

appears in recordings throughout the album,

sharing stories of her experiences and resil-

ience as an immigrant and offering words of

encouragement to her daughter.—Julyssa Lopez

Daniel Hope: “Belle Epoque”

CHAMBER MUSIC The British violinist Dan-

iel Hope released his double album “Belle

Epoque” in February, before the coronavirus

outbreak had been declared a pandemic and

nations began their unprecedented lockdown

efforts. Originally, Hope intended the set to

be a lavish tribute to an era remembered with

optimism, when the arts flourished and late

Romanticism hadn’t yet surrendered to mod-

ernism in the wake of the First World War.

Listening to Hope’s album now, its pangs of

nostalgia for a vibrant period before a shared

global trauma feel especially acute. He deliv-

ers shimmery melodies by Debussy, Massenet,

and a young Schoenberg with softness and care

in an acoustic environment that favors gauzy

warmth, and the Zürcher Kammerorchester

offers sumptuous support. It’s a balm in hard

times, which Hope understands; for the past

two weeks, he’s live-streamed a daily series

called “Hope at Home” for cloistered audi-

ences around the world.—Oussama Zahr

Clarice Jensen: “The experience

of repetition as death”

CHAMBER MUSIC Lately, the cellist Clarice Jen-

sen, a co-founder of the versatile new-music

group American Contemporary Music En-

semble, has turned her attention to fashioning

solo works that use electronic effects. The

idiom might seem ideal for our present state

of isolation, but the music on her album “The

experience of repetition as death” rejects med-

itative navel-gazing. Jensen deploys loops and

layers to evoke the experience of attending to

her terminally ill mother in her final weeks,

adopting concepts from Freud and the fem-

inist poet Adrienne Rich as structural ideas.

Simple repetitions in “Daily” call to mind a

caretaker’s elementary chores—their toll is

implied as the music’s edges gradually soften

and blur. Jensen’s electronically enhanced

vocabulary can astonish: a guttural drone in

“Day Tonight” resembles Tibetan chant, and,

in “Metastable,” the incessant beep of hospital

monitors morphs into a stately pipe-organ

étude. “Holy Mother,” a mountainous, wind-

swept threnody, and “Final,” where nostalgic

crackles preface a plainspoken, hymnlike cho-

rale, complete this album of near-supernatural

potency.—Steve Smith

Harold Mabern:

“Mabern Plays Mabern”

JAZZ New Orleans may have spawned jazz, but

by the mid-fifties Memphis was turning out

significant musicians in the genre by the bushel.

Among the city’s titans was the pianist and com-

poser Harold Mabern, who died last September,

at the age of eighty-three, still gigging until the

end. Mabern established himself in New York

and, thanks to his experience as a supporting

player, became an indispensable component

of the scene—an individual stylist who could

dependably enhance the work of others. His own

fine recordings spotlighted his earthy, blues-

drenched take on bop and modern styles in

his engaging and direct compositions. A newly

released live album, “Mabern Plays Mabern,”

recorded in 2018, finds him playing alongside

the younger acolytes who worked with him as

trusted compatriots during the last thirty years

of his life, including the tenor saxophonist Eric

Alexander, the bassist John Webber, and the

drummer Joe Farnsworth. A blend of sharp

originals and standards, the music swings hard—

when Mabern took any bandstand, you expected

nothing less.—Steve Futterman

NNAMDÏ: “BRAT”

ART POP The only constant in NNAMDÏ’s world

is change; the restless Chicago multi-instrumen-

talist has performed in outfits as disparate as

screamo and hip-hop. His new album, “BRAT,”

journeys through a maze of genres, revealing

with each turn a broad appetite and staggering

musical proficiency. The silvery track “Wasted”

collapses breezy rap and quirky R. & B. into the

gossamer haze of a hymn; elsewhere, on “Perfect

in My Mind,” contrast is the rule, with dynamic

drums and guitars imbuing the track with rock

drama even as his vocals remain pillowy-pop

soft. Despite its mishmash of sounds, “BRAT”

is remarkably cohesive—its quirkiest moments

don’t sacrifice accessibility, and its more famil-

iar gestures still feel unique. The record works

as both a new chapter in NNAMDÏ’s colorful

portfolio and a worthwhile introduction for those

who may be unfamiliar; bask in its pleasures,

but don’t get too comfortable.—Briana Younger

PARTYNEXTDOOR:

“PARTYMOBILE”

R. & B. When Jahron Brathwaite started making

music under the alias PARTYNEXTDOOR,

the Canadian singer and producer cut a figure

that was mysterious and somewhat hard to

pin down. He had an added boost to his pro-

file as the first artist Drake signed to his OVO

Sound imprint, but his style made wider rec-

ognition elusive; his beats were moody and full

of shadows that felt like hideaways. However,

on “PARTYMOBILE,” his latest album, his

production is confident, and his song choices—

including a collaboration with Rihanna that

marks her first musical appearance in three

years—are bold power moves, transforming

an anonymous sound into a signature.—J.L.

1

MOVIES

I Am Not a Witch

In the Zambian writer and director Rungano

Nyoni’s first feature, from 2017, a quiet eight-

year-old girl (Maggie Mulubwa) is accused by

her fellow-villagers of being a witch, and is sent

to an encampment of witches, all of whom are

adult women who are kept tethered to straps,

to prevent them from fleeing. Their compound

serves as a tourist attraction; during off-hours,