Theresa Thor - revery
sadfam records
Released on August 22nd, 2024
Prairie pianist-songwriter Theresa Thor’s revery is permeated with field-recorded birdsong and populated by a cast of literary figures, including T.S. Eliot, Henry David Thoreau, and Emily Dickinson. Thor credits a poem by the latter for inspiring the album’s title through its recipe for a prairie: a clover, a bee, and revery (the first two ingredients, Dickinson concedes, are optional). True to its name, the EP exudes a pastoral dreaminess made all the more captivating by its erudite influences.
The single “simile” answers a beloved’s simple query with a list of poetic comparisons that mostly prompt more questions; for instance, how does Thich Nhat Hanh answer the telephone? (Apparently, he doesn’t. He prefers a mindful alternative: “When you hear the telephone bell, just sit wherever you are and enjoy breathing in and out.”) Despite the roundabout answer, the asker in the song can be comforted by its promise, “like a simile, I will love you,”—kind of an “I love you like a love song, baby” for intellectuals—and the fact that the song is just so warmly and upliftingly pretty.
Hanh’s “Telephone Meditation” was quite googleable, of course, but that’s not the only lyric that demanded further research. The album frequently tempts listeners down Wikipedia rabbit holes, with intriguing references and fragments offered up in a songwriting style that is unabashedly learned. It reminds you of the delight of discoveries achieved not through academic discipline but from following a sense of wonder, a curriculum delivered via a childlike “guess what I just learned!”
The word “revery,” Thor says, has an older definition than its common one. It describes a “raving or delirium” or flight “of the fancy or imagination.” Indeed, “Wild and Free,” in which warbling clarinet mimics the exuberant birdsong collected by Thor from the wilds of rural Manitoba, relates a whimsical tragedy: “I have lost my shadow, somewhere where I have been today.” Skipping piano accompaniment conjures images of a Peter Pan figure trying to reattach a rebellious shadow, even as Thor’s high soprano muses about the adventurous possibilities of leaving that darker self-reflection behind. “I could swim to Glasgow, or Moscow or even Winnipeg … Maybe I will, what the heck!”
In “the sky (Virginia asks a rhetorical question)” Thor’s knowledge-seeking tendencies are reiterated. Its chorus of “anything worth knowing is worth the growing,” admits that the quest to find one’s place isn’t always marked by ease and relish. She sings, “I have heard a room isn’t made, it’s slowly discovered, use a spade, and the ace up your sleeve.” Though Virginia Woolf isn’t actually quoted, one can hear her rustling around in the background, declaring that if one wants to create, she must build or excavate a room of her own.
The EP’s unique chamber-pop palate arises from the collaboration between Thor, guitarist John Himes, and clarinetist Christopher Byman, with Thor’s arrangements showcasing the classical backgrounds of the three players. But occasionally the band steps back, and a recurring musical motif is presented in the form of two solo instrumental interludes. The first is heard on a whirring Jupiter 8 and the second, conclusively, on acoustic piano, offering wordless space to engage in contemplation or, if one cares to, indulge in a reverie.
- Ava Glendinning