Amanda Seyfried brought an unlikely presence to London's avant-garde jazz scene last night as she sat among composer Daniel Blumberg and musicians from Cafe Oto, a leftfield venue whose improvising musicians have been the bedrock of his work. The soundtrack for "The Testament of Ann Lee", in which Seyfried plays the founder of the Shaker religious movement, drew parallels between Shaker worship and free improvisation – both marked by an ascetic intensity, devotion, and moments of euphoric release.
Seyfried sings Shaker-style hymns written by Blumberg, her voice a pure, haunting anchor as his eight-piece ensemble brings dissonance to the songs. Violinist Billy Steiger and bassist Tom Wheatley's instrumentation brings woozy drones, while drummer Steve Noble summons abrasive textures from a kettledrum – all accompanied by the clanging of handbells, creating an unsettling atmosphere.
The use of Phil Minton and Maggie Nicols in the film also plays a significant role. Minton unleashes his formidable vocal arsenal: gasps, retches, howls, panting, and animalistic whinnies that echo the Shakers' ecstatic glossolalia. Nicols punctures the hymns with yelps, shrieks, and sudden eruptions of joy – effectively capturing the raw emotion of their devotional singing.
As a result, the performance takes on a confrontational tone, one in which faith is stripped bare by improvisation and beauty is deliberately bruised. Seyfried's participation is unwavering, unflinching amidst the sonic chaos, making her an integral part of the ensemble rather than a Hollywood newcomer.
The 45-minute total runtime may be short, but the experience is exhilarating and disorienting – an unsettling fusion of sound that leaves you questioning the boundaries between faith, worship, and music.
Seyfried sings Shaker-style hymns written by Blumberg, her voice a pure, haunting anchor as his eight-piece ensemble brings dissonance to the songs. Violinist Billy Steiger and bassist Tom Wheatley's instrumentation brings woozy drones, while drummer Steve Noble summons abrasive textures from a kettledrum – all accompanied by the clanging of handbells, creating an unsettling atmosphere.
The use of Phil Minton and Maggie Nicols in the film also plays a significant role. Minton unleashes his formidable vocal arsenal: gasps, retches, howls, panting, and animalistic whinnies that echo the Shakers' ecstatic glossolalia. Nicols punctures the hymns with yelps, shrieks, and sudden eruptions of joy – effectively capturing the raw emotion of their devotional singing.
As a result, the performance takes on a confrontational tone, one in which faith is stripped bare by improvisation and beauty is deliberately bruised. Seyfried's participation is unwavering, unflinching amidst the sonic chaos, making her an integral part of the ensemble rather than a Hollywood newcomer.
The 45-minute total runtime may be short, but the experience is exhilarating and disorienting – an unsettling fusion of sound that leaves you questioning the boundaries between faith, worship, and music.