Having just completed her incredible 12-month, 12-EP series A Year of Lore, Laura Cannell has immediately launched into a new series. A Compendium of Beasts, described as “a Medieval Bestiary in Sound,” begins with a tribute to four different beasts, suggesting that the total may reach 48, enough to compile a Medieval Chapbook come December. The music is sublime, but the fun is the identification: which creatures are real, which are imaginary, and which have been classified as imaginary but may in fact be real?
We know that the bittern is real: the “most secretive” of the heron family, Known for its “thunder-pumper” noise, the bittern often sounds like a “monster in the marsh,” and in Celtic folklore is a guardian between worlds. Cannell honors the creature with low, dark cello bowings, foreboding as foghorns. In contrast, the Bridd Hremm (Old English crow chick) is represented in woodwinds and an abraded video. Cannell’s double recorders seem forlorn, even melancholy, a match for the found footage.
The script and emotion flips with “I Am the Norfolk Puma.” Pumas are not supposed to live in Ireland, but that doesn’t stop people from seeing or sensing them. In 2017 a creature “similar to Bagheera” was spotted in Newry and a warning issued, although the sighting was never confirmed; a year later, there were six sightings in Cork. The heart quickens with the first notes of Cannell’s piece, as it would if a large, unidentified presence were felt nearby. On the cover, only the eyes are visible. A memory of seeing a “bushy tail disappearing into a hedge” inspires Cannell to add “The Fox Taegl,” underlining the themes of secrecy and disappearance: creatures that may exist in the periphery. The recorders sound like the wind rustling through the grass, making one doubt the senses and credit the imagination.
We’re looking forward to hearing how this compendium develops, to meeting new creatures along the way, and to speculating on the existence of beasts who, if they really do exist, deserve credit for eluding us for so long. (Richard Allen)
Available here