Halocline

What a blessing that we’ve come into a time of celebration and experimentation for the humble Scottish smallpipes and border pipes. Though these bagpipes have always been used to open up a more intimate space for Scottish piping, new works from the likes of Brìghde Chaimbeul and now Malin Lewis show that they’re ripe for thoughtful experimenting as well. Some pipers, like Galicia’s Carme López, are delving into strange noise and trance worlds with the pipes. But for a piper like Lewis, whose new album Halocline is a soft, subtle revelation, the tradition remains a solid bedrock and the new sounds come from the quiet genius of how they’re interpreted. The word ‘halocline’ (a visible layer that forms between very salty and less salty water) is used here to show the liminality of Lewis’ life as a queer, trans artist. Living between genders, the idea of the microcosms of life that live between fresh and saltwater spoke to Lewis as a concept for the album. Most of the tunes are composed by Lewis, again working in a liminal space between improvisation and composition (to get the original idea of the tune). From the album title’s obscure vocabulary, to Lewis’ creation of a new form of bagpipe (a two-octave smallpipe developed from a 3D-printed model), Halocline is serious music, but played with a lovely lightness.