Mary Lattimore - Hundred Of Days

Als wir im letzten Dezember das Nordur og Nidur Festival in Reykjavik besuchten, sahen wir auch einen Auftritt der in Los Angeles lebenden Harfinistin Mary Lattimore und es war schon beeindruckend zu erleben, wie sie durch Zupfen, Reißen, Streicheln und Wischen unterschiedliche Klänge erzeugte, diese loopte und zu neuen Klangwelten zusammensetzte. Obwohl nicht gesungen wurde, die Lieder nicht dem klassischen Aufbau einen Popsongs folgten, recht meditativ wirkten und sicherlich auch mal 10 Minuten dauerten, wurde man durch die Darbietung unweigerlich in einen Sog gezogen.

Obwohl dieser Zauber etwas verloren geht, wenn man die Künstlerin nicht live vor Augen hat, steht „Hundred Of Days“, das dritte Album von Mary Lattimore, aktuell bei Metacritic bei einem Score von 80/100 Punkten. Neben der 47-saitigen Harfe gibt es dezente Klänge von Synthesizer, Gitarre, Theremin und Piano zu hören und lassen das Album irgendwo zwischen zeitgenössischer Klassik und Ambient einsortieren. Die sechs Titel laufen 44 Minuten und sind als Download, Kassette, CD und LP erhältlich. In der auf 800 Exemplare limitierten Version ist das Vinyl gold. Zusätzlich gibt es digital den Song „Wind Carries Seed“.

The 11-minute opener, "It Feels Like Floating," revolves around a gentle, looped harp melody, which is fleshed out by subtle layers of shimmering organ and ethereal, sighing vocals, as well as distant birdsong. The piece has a sort of melancholy swing to it, but it still sounds light, sunny, and peaceful. "Never Saw Him Again" unexpectedly adds sparse, lo-fi drum-machine beats, somewhat recalling Jefre Cantu-Ledesma's later solo work, and while Lattimore adds a drizzle of static and distortion, she doesn't go anywhere near as overboard. Harp notes are played forward and in reverse at the same time, and a layer of organ shines underneath. "Baltic Birch" is another epic, which builds upon a strange gothic Europop melody and gradually gets deeper and darker, throwing in some of Lattimore's usual twisted delay effects to create a sense of disorientation. While Lattimore's extended experiments are captivating, one of the album's most touching moments is the brief, direct "Hello from the Edge of the Earth," a simple melody that seems halfway between a heartfelt apology and an expression of deepest appreciation and gratitude. Hundreds of Days finds Lattimore gracefully adapting to her new surroundings, adding new dimensions to her sound but keeping its dreaminess and sentimentality intact.
(All Music)

Lattimore shows a darker side of the harp on “Baltic Birch,” mixing melancholic strumming with dramatic electric guitar flourishes. She even reaches for uncharacteristically heavenly, classical harp heights on the soothing “Hello From the Edge of the Earth.” What makes Hundreds of Days so special, though, is how often it hits ambient music’s sweetest spot—a place where the world slows down and the performer’s free-floating noise makes you appreciate everything around it.
Listening to the album’s closing track, “On the Day You Saw the Dead Whale,” while jogging in the park one morning, the piano chords and harp notes activated the sounds of the forest around me. The thump in my chest, the whistle of the wind blowing through the leaves, and my footfalls on asphalt all danced around her notes. In that moment, it was impossible to tell where Lattimore’s song ended and the world began.
(Pitchfork)