Summer has arrived. The grass has grown thick, the foliage tangled. Grass Cat hides in the thicket, visible only as glowing eyes. On the verge of releasing their debut album, three musicians have gone looking for this elusive entity, seeking a blessing or supernatural encounter. Will they be worthy of its presence? Will Grass Cat emerge, or remain agonizingly out of reach, like a fairy tale or unanswered question?
The members of this experimental Mass trio (period purposely omitted) use every sound at their disposal: whispers, psst-pssts, meows, gurgles, bells, tantalizing stories and eventually pleas. The birds seem calm, as if the feline has just fed. A plane passes overhead, a distraction from the chimes, a reminder that some felines wear collars: but not one such as this. The ruler of this foliage demands that the humans bear bells instead. A cymbal is struck in admiration, a ceremonial gong. Hush … shshsh. They allowed me to approach … allowed me to crawl onto their back, and I ran my fingers through their spiky, grassy fur. At the end of this mystical encounter, the one left behind laments, I miss them so much, and immediately seeks to recreate the miracle.
“snuggly” is the opposite of its title, suggesting that the next time, the wrong being emerges. No, not that one. Still the pilgrim persists. Is Grass Cat benevolent, malevolent, or indifferent? Can the creature bestow success upon Hedgewitch if pleased by their musical offering? Did the trio think to leave milk, or fish, or pulsing mice? Care O’Leary brings violin, sometimes sweet, sometimes salty, sometimes resting on the border of dissonance like a yowl. Jasper Kolaski contributes bass and glockenspiel, the low and high, a net of timbres. Mara Penatzer rolls the piano into the woods, extracts the milk-colored keys, lays them out like a path. Grass Cat, Grass Cat, Grass Ca-a-a-a-t?
Grass Cat is the rain without the water, the word beyond the lips, the wish never uttered, the path not taken. Supplicants call the name in the middle of the night, their partners the only witnesses. “hide and seek” leads to “lost and found,” suggesting alternate endings. Grass Cat, a cousin to the Cheshire Cat and Miyazaki’s Catbus, travels through the green on silent paws. When the rain has ended, Grass Cat will lap the milk from the keys, play with the bells, pluck the strings and saunter wordlessly back into the verdant vegetation. (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 