Unfolding is dedicated to “a free Palestine in our lifetime,” and builds to the first single and powerful finale, “until all are free.” According to Jessica Moss, her solo violin music began to flow out of her during the invasion of Gaza, and has not stopped since; the proceeds from last year’s album For UNRWA were sent entirely to the relief organization. The ongoing genocide and subsequent famine have both enraged and inspired the artist, who is about to unveil her most pointed and focused work to date.
As the last track was the first to be released, we start at the end. The fourth part of a side-long composition, “until are are free” begins with soft, peaceful chimes, gradually introducing layers of Moss’ voice, intoning the lyrics, “no one / no where / no one is free / until all are free.” Moss extends a beautiful invitation to those who may see her in concert: she hopes that her voice will become a choir. In the same way, she expresses hope that a similar choir of voices will emerge, joined in indignation, in protest, in action. The lyrics wash over the listener like an incantation or prayer, leaving silence in their wake: a time for reflection on the responsibilities held by those who claim to hold human rights dear.
The rest of the composition is just as elegant, “no one” the first to introduce those chimes, backed by birdsong, bells and elegiac violin. The mournful tone seems to ask, “Why can’t people see the value of these lives as equal to their own?” So many have already been lost, an entire generation wiped clean, no end in sight. The music bears an implicit challenge: to connect one’s own pain to the pain of others, wherever they may be. “no where” is forlorn, rustling like the wind through an abandoned building, a drone of inattention and inaction descending like a shroud, accumulating in density and weight. “no one is free” delves into silence, connoting not only death but the indicting silence of apathy.
We return now to Side A, highlighted by “One, Now,” a thirteen and a half minute composition enhanced by the brushed percussion of The Necks’ Tony Buck. Hearing the chimes again (albeit in covering these tracks backwards, we realize it is their first appearance), one senses the connective spiritual tissue. Infused with the timbres of both Arabic and Israeli music, the music exemplifies its title. The government of a nation who barely survived its own genocidal purge is now engaged in one of its own, all moral authority lost. One cannot help but think of Nixon’s words to the crew of Apollo 11: “”For one priceless moment in the whole history of man, all the people on this Earth are truly one,” and to yearn for such a recognition to recur.
Unfolding is an important album, a timely album, and against all odds, a hopeful album, as Moss still believes that humanity can pull back from the brink, that righteousness may be restored, that empathy may find its way to the human heart. If the words “no one is free until all are free” lodge in the mind, they may yet seep into the soul. (Richard Allen)