In New York’s experimental scene, the presence of vocalist Amirtha Kidambi on a concert bill has been a consistent indicator of quality. In 2013, she impressed in a live appearance with the legendary composer and improviser Muhal Richard Abrams. At the 2014 Whitney Biennial, she was part of a youthful ensemble that gave the premiere of one of the final operas by the late visionary Robert Ashley. Until forming the group Elder Ones, though, Kidambi had yet to create a vehicle for her own compositions.
The quartet that plays on her bandleading debut includes some familiar talents. Drummer Max Jaffe’s jabbing power has been heard in the high-complexity pop of the band JOBS. Soprano saxophonist Matt Nelson’s work has proved critical to recordings by tUnE-yArDs and Battle Trance. But Kidambi is the clear driving agent of the group.
While her mostly wordless vocal parts on Holy Science are influenced by the South Indian devotional singing groups she participated in as a child, they also call to mind her past work with composer Darius Jones. Kidambi’s simultaneous harmonium playing reflects her ongoing study of India’s Carnatic classical tradition, as well as her appreciation of modern drone music. And the feeling of free jazz—in particular, the high-intensity blast of late Coltrane—is often present here. That’s a lot of material for any composer to process usefully, but Kidambi and Elder Ones distinguish themselves by fusing these influences with a point of view all their own. With each lengthy track titled after a yuga (or “eon”) in Hindu scripture, Holy Science clearly has significant thematic ambitions. Yet Kidambi’s 64-minute suite contains lively, minute-to-minute variety, in addition to a grand overall design.
The title of the opening movement, “Sathya Yuga,” references an ancient eon in Hindu mythology—one in which spiritual enlightenment was widespread. The track opens with the leader’s voice and harmonium playing, and the texture is meditative. Kidambi’s singing has the feel of mantra, with certain groups of syllables receiving devoted repetition. But she also adds to the lines as she goes along, creating a searching quality.
When Jaffe enters, he plays in free-time, often using cymbals to accentuate the vocal lines. After Nelson’s soprano sax joins, nearly three minutes in, he and Kidambi begin experimenting—very softly—with unusual harmonies. After a brief solo harmonium drone, a rhythmic vamp is introduced, via Brandon Lopez’s bass. And then the entire band carries this new material to a full boil, with “Sathya Yuga” climaxing in a fiercely swinging, post-minimalist melodic progression. This is a happy intensity: full of a community vibe as well as opportunities for individual expression. But it is not the end of the story.
Since subsequent yugas narrate a descent into fractious conflict, the album’s next movement (“Treta-yuga”) incorporates a greater sense of alarm. Here, the free jazz riffs are more anxious sounding. Nelson’s soprano sax language adds in some of the piercing effects heard in the music of virtuosos like Roscoe Mitchell. But still, in moments when the players’ parts fall in-line together, there’s a sense of hard-won beauty.
Things fall apart more completely during the third movement, “Dvapara Yuga (for Eric Garner).” Kidambi composed this piece in the hours after first seeing the horrifying cellphone video of Garner’s death at the hands of police officers in the summer of 2014. And Kidambi’s choice to place this contemporary reference in this album’s evocation of the Dvapara eon is smart, and chilling. In Hindu scripture, this is only the second most destructive epoch—and the one in which the Bhagavad Gita is recited. That text, influential to a wide range of thinkers that includes Thoreau, Gandhi, and Martin Luther King, centers on a cosmic battle between warring factions in society: a span of carnage that often results in empty victories.
Here, the evocation of ancient and contemporary questions about violence and moral response proves gripping. At the end of this cacophonous movement, Kidambi sounds depleted. Nelson’s saxophone lines are similarly strained—a harrowing reference to Garner’s own increasingly desperate struggle to breathe, as seen on the video that documents his death. At all times, this track works as an oath. In its opening section, it swears memory to a victim. By its close, it promises enduring opposition to unjust outcomes.
Even though the suite still has one more era to explore, Holy Science’s relationship to the legacy of free-jazz protest is most pronounced in that third movement. And by this point, it’s clear that Kidambi has managed to house all of her influences in a project that is original. This sound isn’t merely the product of well-chosen reference points; in its abstract way, it makes a unique argument for the virtue of cross-cultural curiosity. Appropriately, the nature of this music is constantly morphing. When a muted introduction gives way to a more celebratory aesthetic, the change is achieved gradually, through small changes in the arrangement. When a demonstration of rage reaches a peak that cannot be sustained, the musicians in Elder Ones are able to navigate back to a more stable feel, without losing the passion and awareness that has animated those foregoing blasts of harshness. The result is an astonishing debut for a composer, and her band.
