35th Parallel

Central Vermont's 35th Parallel play an invigorating blend of Middle Eastern, Indian and North African music. Their 2003 debut, The Green Vine, was lauded for its compositional adventurousness and lush sonic environs. The latest, Crossing Painted Islands, finds the core duo of rhythm man Gabe Halberg and string multi-instrumentalist Mac Ritchey augmented by a horn section and auxiliary percussionist. The result of this new union is pure sonic sorcery.

In the years between Vine and Islands Richey and Halberg have further honed their remarkable musical telepathy. Each plays with a focused passion that perfectly complements the other.

Opener "Hepsi Yalandir" begins with a mournful, melodic phrase from Ritchey, answered by Zach Tonnissen's sonorous sax. Soon the song erupts into a sandstorm of dynamic motifs and Casbah-rocking rhythms.

A hypnotic string figure and ambient drone haunt the intro of "Sevani Tsorgnorsner." Stark and beautiful, the song sashays with painstaking grace. The sharp ping of Halberg's tabla provides a resonant edge, as Ritchey's provocative melody cycles through several permutations.

The rousing "Uzaz" makes excellent use of the guest musicians. Waves of brass swell like Arabian tides, creating an entrancing sway. Trumpeter Brian Boyes takes a fantastic solo in the song's middle section, sliding between major and minor tonalities like a pan-global hep cat.

Michael Chorney's sultry baritone sax is given plenty of room to explore on the darkly resplendent "Sallassana Mendillini." Later, Ritchey combines Middle Eastern modality with bluegrass dexterity on the rousing "Donagan Bar."

Things take an avant-garde turn with "Kou Xiang," a tune featuring an electronically manipulated instrument of the same name. The song serves as an intermission of sorts; in a bygone era, it'd be time to flip the record.

I was particularly struck by "Penumbra," an evocative study in space and repetition. The song's interlocking acoustic guitar lines are reminiscent of progressive axemen Adrian Belew and Michael Hedges. A cavernous ambience pervades the track, adding to its meditative mood.

"The Deep" features rumbling didgeridoo, processed into a soundscape of alien tone and texture. The klezmer-like "Homunculus" presents a musical tug-of-war between members of the horn section. Full of subtle menace, the tune stumbles and lurches.

It's incredible to have such A-list world music talent right here in Vermont. Islands is nigh-perfect; here's hoping 35th Parallel get right to work on its follow-up.

Casey Rea
March 22, 2006
- Seven Days

On their new self-released CD “Crossing Painted Islands,” 35th Parallel skillfully mines the Middle East’s rich musical culture. The 15-song disc is a mix of traditional Turkish and Armenian instrumentals, along with plenty of original compositions that are mostly in that region’s style, too.

Multi-instrumentalists Mac Ritchey of North Hampton and Gabe Halberg of Plainfield, Vt., the two primary members of the band, aren’t afraid to throw non-traditional instruments into the mix. They use kou xiang (Jew’s harp), the Australian aboriginal didgeridoo, and the impressive horn playing talents of Michael Chorney, Brain Boyes and Zach Tonnissen, who play baritone sax, trumpet and soprano/tenor sax, respectively.

“Hepsi Yalandir,” one of the Turkish songs, starts off with a slow and lonely back and forth between a bouzouki and saxophone before lurching into a fast and hypnotic tempo, with the distictive slapping and tapping and low resonance of the tabla, darbouka and tar drums. “Uzaz” also has a hypnotic rhythm (it’s hard not to with those warm drums) whose “B” section has an almost poppy melody. “Nu Y’et” is another highlight, a head bopping mid-tempo number with a tricky time signature and the lovely, thuddy plucking of the oud. Boyes’ nimble trumpeting shadows the oud on a repeating phrase before breaking out into a jazz infused solo as the rest of the musicians lay back. When the ensemble kicks back in, the result sounds almost South American to these ears.

This would be a great road trip or headphone disc. It’s the best of the “melting pot” mentality, using complementary instruments and styles to stretch the boundaries of traditional and world music. “Crossing Painted Islands” is sure to please purists and forward thinking music lovers alike.

Jon Nolan
April 12, 2006 - The Wire

This duo of brilliant percussion and string conjure to music the "mystical realism" that Gabriel Garcia Marquez brings to literature. 35th Parallel produce what Indiana Jones might find on one of his epic travels in the east, what Aladdin might hear from a rooftop, dully echoing far off in the stale moonshine of an Arabian Night. On their Web site they dub their style "MediterrAsian jazz" blending "global musical forms with flavors of ambient soundscapes and modern electronics." And among it's numerous praises, their album 'The Green Vine' was listed amidst the top ten Vermont albums of 2003 by the Burlington Free Press and Seven Days."

- William Funsch - Big Heavy World

Listening to the 35th Parallel’s debut disc transports you not to Middlesex, Vermont, but the Middle East. And the Mediterranean. North Africa. Asia. India. And back again to Appalachia. In other words, The Green Vine is a musical journey around the globe following a sinuous path, yes, 35 degrees north of the equator.

And the journey is not a linear one: both Gabe Halberg (of Middlesex) and Mac Ritchey (of Hampton Falls, N.H.) are multi-instrumentalists who incorporate a full arsenal of traditional sound-producing devices in their gorgeous compositions. Each of the 14 instrumental tunes here — 10 of them original — is a thing of breathtaking beauty, yet despite the wiggly time signatures and exotic tones, the music is accessible. In part that may be because Ravi Shankar introduced the East to the West, musically speaking, a generation ago. But mostly it’s because of the 35th Parallel’s exquisite, seemingly effortless playing.

Only occasionally does the familiar sound of Ritchey’s acoustic guitar appear; he also contributes oud (acoustic and electric), bouzouki, didjeridoo, gongs and something he calls “ambiosmic soundscapes.” The owner of and producer for Possum Hall Studios in Hampton Falls, Ritchey is also a master of the digital widgets of electronica — though his use of such effects is discreet on The Green Vine until the hidden track way, way at the end. Halberg, who graduated from Goddard College with a self-designed major in tabla composition — plays that hourglass-shaped drum as well as other percussion and the tar and tamboura (both variations on the lute) and the jaw harp. Both players continue to study with masters on the oud and tabla, respectively.

The Green Vine is not your garden-variety “world music,” nor is there the slightest capitulation to “jamming.” The compositions are lovely, if hard to describe. The dynamic variation is just right — some tunes slow and meditative, others filled with that kind of hypnotic percolation that makes you consider Sufi dancing in the privacy of your living room. Every tune is based on a group marriage of plucked things and beaten things, yet the spacious arrangements grant each instrument sonic independence, as it were — a sign of both good songwriting and crystalline production. If I had to choose favorites they would be the tapestry-of-sound title track, the sunny “Crabwalk Often?” and the spacey nine-minute closer “And the Sky Was,” but in truth this collection is seductive from the first note to the last.

PAMELA POLSTON
12/3/03
- Seven Days