When I first heard cellist-composer Jo Quail perform – back in 2013, in a solo support slot – it was immediately clear that she occupied a genre all her own.

A kindred spirit, for sure, with other musicians active in the dark folk / neoclassical / what-you-will underground – especially fellow ‘loopers’ (like Matt Howden, a.k.a. Sieben), using their technical mastery to build up layers of sound live onstage and weave the acoustic and electric patterns together.

But something about Quail’s performances always carried an air of promise, a hint that she was hearing something we were yet to experience. Her work was always complex, yet accessible, finding the intimate in the intricate. Every track melodic, soulful, rewarding to both mind and heart. 

As magnetic to watch as to listen to, hers was stagecraft partly borne from necessity. Near-balletic footwork in her dance from pedal to pedal, bowing virtuosic lines of blissful harmony one minute, then freeform acrobatics the next – chasing the orchestral structures mapped out in her head down to one woman and her cello.

It’s no wonder that she leaves audience after audience – especially on bills for other headliners where the crowd have no idea what’s coming – in a state of euphoria, even catharsis. And it’s a testament to her originality and impact that, over time, as her fanbase has grown, such a wide range of listening communities have adopted her as their own. Myriad guest appearances live and in the studio for post-rock, hip hop and avant-garde metal artists – not to mention Prog magazine highlighting the questing, boundary-crossing nature of her work with their Limelight award in 2019.

Progressive is a fitting word to describe Quail’s overall approach, as well as the music itself. Her open and enthusiastic attitude towards collaboration has allowed her to create albums and live events that finally allow her the freedom of manoeuvre her creative voice requires. This is one reason her current projects – the solo album ‘Notan’ and its forthcoming sister release, the orchestral ‘Ianus’ – give a perfect snapshot of where she is now: the charismatic one-woman-show performer and the innovative, ambitious composer – two sides of the same artist, captured in conversation with each other.

Quail’s friendship with conductor Jos Pijnappel dates back to the mid-90s when they were both studying music in Leeds, UK. Pijnappel has been at hand to help realise Quail’s most notable orchestral commissions – in particular, the symphony-length work ‘The Cartographer’ for the Roadburn metal festival (specifically designed to explore the idea of ‘heavy music’ in a classical context) and her performance at the 2024 Nationale Taptoe in Rotterdam.

Her ongoing partnership with Pijnappel and deepening connection with the Netherlands led to this concert in Enschede, where the conductor leads the 100-strong Wilmink Project Orkest. This is the only time a programme of this length and scale has been solely dedicated to Quail’s work, and it took over a year to plan and arrange. The result was an utterly uplifting, unforgettable evening.

The focus of the set was a specially-commissioned work about Enschede itself, celebrating its 700th anniversary. Quail created a musical portrait of the city’s turbulent history, the Orkest channeling its main theme through multiple variations of calm and cacophony, with constants including brilliantly-realised church bells (created and then struck by percussion soloist Tom Atherton – amazing throughout the whole gig), and rhythms based on factory looms, reflecting Enschede’s past as a textile industry hub.

Alongside this première were newly-arranged versions of highlights from Quail’s career, performed with the full forces of the Orkest. It could have been a textbook selection of live favourites writ large, but in the event, it was much more. Throughout the evening, I found myself thinking about the programme’s inclusivity, its generosity of spirit. Allowing herself just one unaccompanied piece, ‘Embrace’ (a beautiful moment of elegant serenity from ‘Notan’), all of Quail’s other selections seemed chosen to lift up other musicians, making the show as much a celebration of the collaborative act as the city where it was taking place.

The first half of the concert was dedicated to vocal works, and all three of the original guest singers on the recorded versions made it to the gig to reprise their performances. Hearing both suites from 2024 double EP ‘Invocation / Supplication’ side-by-side drove home how Quail writes so sympathetically and distinctively for particular voices, whether it’s the keening incantations of Maria Franz soaring through ‘Macha’ or Lorenzo Esposito Fornasari’s expressive warmth forming part of the fabric of ‘Kyralaste’.

Then we heard ‘Causleen’s Wheel’ (originally the closing track on 2019 album ‘Exsolve’), featuring another of Quail’s longer-term creative foils, Lucie Dehli. Quail’s writing seems to galvanise Dehli into developing and improvising spectacular vocal lines. This track in particular, with a powerful yet controlled momentum and patient, circling motif, somehow possesses and unleashes Dehli, the whole ensemble bursting into a rising, regenerating climax. The skyscraping closing moments made for an exhilaratingly intense ride into the interval.

After easing us into part two with ‘Embrace’, Quail reached right back into the early years with ‘South West Night’, her hymn to the Australian night sky. The inclusion of this piece reminded me of Quail’s view that recording a piece only captures a snapshot of its current state and that it changes in performance before and after its moment in the studio. ‘South West Night’ has been a frequent flyer in her live sets, and here, Quail presents a version that allows another local hero to shine, organist Dennis Vallenduuk, the pair duetting with next-to-no rehearsal. A definite connection was made, however: Vallenduuk’s deft chords somehow adding an extra dimension to the sound picture, the expanse beyond Quail’s canopy of stars.

Both Quail and Pijnappel seem convinced that a performance like this is unlikely to happen again. But then they, with the full band, encore with ‘ManyoHalmi’, a preview track from ‘Ianus’, and this glimpse of the future makes anything seem possible.

AA

All of Jo Quail’s music is available on Bandcamp.

As I mention in the piece, if you’re new to her work, latest album ‘Notan’ is a great place to jump on board. At the same time, any of her records can act as a gateway to devouring the whole catalogue.

If you are classically-inclined, you might want to dive straight into the album-length single work ‘The Cartographer’. On the other hand, if you prefer a collection of shorter, precision-tooled ‘hits’, try her second album ‘Caldera’, packed with early live favourites. Voice enthusiasts should definitely try the ‘Invocation / Supplication’ double EP. In between, ‘Five Incantations’ forms a spellbinding suite of tracks that work as a complete experience; and ‘Exsolve’ will really set the prog fans alight with its handful of arresting, addictive epics. Once you start, you will absolutely want to hear them all.

Super-attentive readers may recall that Lucie Dehli’s most recent full-length record, ‘Homam’ was one of my albums of 2023. It’s still available, also on Bandcamp, and I warmly recommend it.

(Photos by AA.)