TUE., JANUARY 23, 2007
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Constance Demby: Heavy Metal Thunder
by Robert Phoenix
Constance Demby isn’t just a musician or a composer, though she has expressed herself quite competently through music for over five decades. Demby is something different altogether: a portal, a walking catalyst, an event. Known in new age circles as one of the most successful new age artists of all time, selling over 200,000 copies of the legendary Novus Magnificat: Through the Stargate (1986), she has the air and conviction of someone who still has her greatest work ahead of her, and at the beginning of an unusual cold snap for northern California and on the night of my Mayan birthday (thirteen caban), I was about to be a witness.
I arranged to experience one of Demby's unique instruments: the Sonic Space Bass, a 10-foot-wide sheet of polished stainless steel with attached metal rods, harmonically tuned to a span of five octaves. Demby came upon the Sonic Space Bass when she was a sculptor. A piece of sheet metal had found its way to her and she noticed something interesting when it warped and wobbled; it sang to her. She immediately began to sound it, exploring its musical possibilities. On this night, I and two others were going to hear a private concert by Demby on the draughty indoor patio of her sprawling Marin County home.
We lay down on small mattresses, covered by blankets, as Demby began to coax the most incredible sounds out of the copper and steel banshee with two cello bows. It was unlike anything I had ever heard and yet I could recognize snatches of industrial and isolationist moans and drones emanating from the alloy beast Demby was taming. While the music was definitely metal-heavy, I never felt as if it were abrasive, jarring or dissonant as her sprawling improvisation took flight with otherworldly harmonics.
Back when I was deep in the heart of the industrial world, this was the type of sound that artists like Zoviet France, PGR, the Hafler Trio and Z’ev aspired to, and ironically, here was the grand dame of new age music conjuring up a sonic storm that was more than equal to those hardened industrial agent-provocateurs. Then, after about thirty minutes of this unexpected sonic odyssey, Demby moved to the hammered dulcimer, an instrument she’s also quite accomplished on. But she only managed to sound a few notes before we were enveloped in darkness — the lights in the room had gone out. Taking this as a cue from some unseen conductor, she ended our journey.
Afterwards, she did a show-and-tell of a list of comments and stories from people who have experienced the Sonic Space Bass in person — healing everything from arthritis to cancer. And while I am more than open to the healing power of sound, the claims are pretty astounding, to say the least. And yet something interesting happened to me the day after. I felt really good — no, better than good — I felt great. I felt lighter, less dense, both emotionally and physically. I had more energy than usual and as a result, I was in a fantastic mood. It felt as if I had hit a reset button on all levels. I can’t honestly say if it was the shimmering harmonics of Demby and her Sonic Space Bass, but I also don’t think it was a coincidence either.
Who is Constance Demby and how did she manage to shift my jaded perception that night? After the patio concert, I sat down with her over some coconut curry noodles in her studio, and she gave me the brief history of her time on the planet.
She fell into music as a child, mesmerized by the resonant chords of the Bach her mother played on the family piano. From there she continued her musical studies, eventually playing folk, jazz and psychedelia in the first half of the '70s with the Central Maine Power, Sound and Light Company, an experimental visual and sound theater that created the legendary Space Mass. She also dabbled in sculpting when she wasn’t opening herself to the muses of improvisation. But Demby’s real musical training came when she was initiated into Surat Shabd Yoga, a discipline that stresses a connection with a cosmic light and sound through meditation. This practice opened her up to the grand possibility of being guided by music. Such was the case with the aforementioned Novus Magnificat.
While Demby was proficient on the hammered dulcimer and her metallic-sheets, she knew very little about synthesizers — but that didn’t stop her from diving in and being guided by her formidable intuitive capacities. The result of her leap of faith is a resounding triumph, a space symphony that is epic on a grand scale: filled with deep emotion, evoking a sacred depth that borders on the religious. One can even hear echoes of her beloved Bach cantatas — as if they were being played on the brilliant binary star Sirius.
Novus had a deep impact on the business of new age music: its sonic grandeur helped it outsell every new age record of its time and was instrumental in helping Stephen Hill to build the Hearts of Space label into a financial and artistic powerhouse.
Everything else Demby has done — including outstanding albums like Aeterna (1995), Faces of the Christ (2000) and Sanctum Sanctourom (2001) — all come from the same place, a place guided by deep feeling, worked out in ways that she would never had imagined. Demby channels a force that has been driving her for over five decades; she thinks the best is yet to come and that a planetary healing will occur through sound. Based on my experience with her, it already has.
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I arranged to experience one of Demby's unique instruments: the Sonic Space Bass, a 10-foot-wide sheet of polished stainless steel with attached metal rods, harmonically tuned to a span of five octaves. Demby came upon the Sonic Space Bass when she was a sculptor. A piece of sheet metal had found its way to her and she noticed something interesting when it warped and wobbled; it sang to her. She immediately began to sound it, exploring its musical possibilities. On this night, I and two others were going to hear a private concert by Demby on the draughty indoor patio of her sprawling Marin County home.
We lay down on small mattresses, covered by blankets, as Demby began to coax the most incredible sounds out of the copper and steel banshee with two cello bows. It was unlike anything I had ever heard and yet I could recognize snatches of industrial and isolationist moans and drones emanating from the alloy beast Demby was taming. While the music was definitely metal-heavy, I never felt as if it were abrasive, jarring or dissonant as her sprawling improvisation took flight with otherworldly harmonics.
Back when I was deep in the heart of the industrial world, this was the type of sound that artists like Zoviet France, PGR, the Hafler Trio and Z’ev aspired to, and ironically, here was the grand dame of new age music conjuring up a sonic storm that was more than equal to those hardened industrial agent-provocateurs. Then, after about thirty minutes of this unexpected sonic odyssey, Demby moved to the hammered dulcimer, an instrument she’s also quite accomplished on. But she only managed to sound a few notes before we were enveloped in darkness — the lights in the room had gone out. Taking this as a cue from some unseen conductor, she ended our journey.
Afterwards, she did a show-and-tell of a list of comments and stories from people who have experienced the Sonic Space Bass in person — healing everything from arthritis to cancer. And while I am more than open to the healing power of sound, the claims are pretty astounding, to say the least. And yet something interesting happened to me the day after. I felt really good — no, better than good — I felt great. I felt lighter, less dense, both emotionally and physically. I had more energy than usual and as a result, I was in a fantastic mood. It felt as if I had hit a reset button on all levels. I can’t honestly say if it was the shimmering harmonics of Demby and her Sonic Space Bass, but I also don’t think it was a coincidence either.
Who is Constance Demby and how did she manage to shift my jaded perception that night? After the patio concert, I sat down with her over some coconut curry noodles in her studio, and she gave me the brief history of her time on the planet.
She fell into music as a child, mesmerized by the resonant chords of the Bach her mother played on the family piano. From there she continued her musical studies, eventually playing folk, jazz and psychedelia in the first half of the '70s with the Central Maine Power, Sound and Light Company, an experimental visual and sound theater that created the legendary Space Mass. She also dabbled in sculpting when she wasn’t opening herself to the muses of improvisation. But Demby’s real musical training came when she was initiated into Surat Shabd Yoga, a discipline that stresses a connection with a cosmic light and sound through meditation. This practice opened her up to the grand possibility of being guided by music. Such was the case with the aforementioned Novus Magnificat.
While Demby was proficient on the hammered dulcimer and her metallic-sheets, she knew very little about synthesizers — but that didn’t stop her from diving in and being guided by her formidable intuitive capacities. The result of her leap of faith is a resounding triumph, a space symphony that is epic on a grand scale: filled with deep emotion, evoking a sacred depth that borders on the religious. One can even hear echoes of her beloved Bach cantatas — as if they were being played on the brilliant binary star Sirius.
Novus had a deep impact on the business of new age music: its sonic grandeur helped it outsell every new age record of its time and was instrumental in helping Stephen Hill to build the Hearts of Space label into a financial and artistic powerhouse.
Everything else Demby has done — including outstanding albums like Aeterna (1995), Faces of the Christ (2000) and Sanctum Sanctourom (2001) — all come from the same place, a place guided by deep feeling, worked out in ways that she would never had imagined. Demby channels a force that has been driving her for over five decades; she thinks the best is yet to come and that a planetary healing will occur through sound. Based on my experience with her, it already has.
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