The collaboration between these two North Carolina projects feels, upon listening, almost inevitable. Magic Tuber Stringband (Evan Morgan and Courtney Werner) is an instrumental duo often employing traditional Appalachian-style playing within contemporary drone and song-oriented contexts to create undulating, cathartic, organic compositions. Weirs (Justin Morris and Oliver Child-Lanning) is a bit more stylistically diverse, but very much rooted in the fascinating crossover of traditional and contemporary music which is recently abundant in the mid and south-Atlantic states.

Recorded live with field recorders inside Virginia’s pitch-black Crozet Tunnel, the album presents four individuals experiencing the beautiful and intense sonics of both interior and exterior space, and their own forms of communication with one another. The singing in particular is powerful. Flat, strong broad voices without vibrato evoke a sense of the tragic or stern, notable in opener “Bright Morning Star” (originally a Masonic hymn which entered the American folk lexicon)—as if things might at any moment descend into dissonant sadness—but then become gentle and anodyne, trafficking not in freak-folk innocence but authentic connection to their sources. As potentially radical as the old music is, the solidly unhurried pacing of both the “song sections” and “drones” allows each word of each line, each vocal plait, each scrape of echoed object, to ring with surprise.

The performances emphasize the distinctively rich reverb of the physical space, using the acoustics to re-situate the art in the heart of the land. Side B is an entrancing altered playback of the music from Side A, re-recorded under a dome behind a science museum in which the surrounding ambience layers seamlessly with the music: bird and insect sounds, shuffling movements, a child’s voice. Far from feeling performative or even conceptual, this feels earned and intimate, teaching the listener about the interplay between the music and the site of its creation. That the musicians semi-jokingly refer to this side as a “dub version” reflects the depth and breadth of their vision.


BEING THERE, by Sarah Bachman (artist, musician)

"The Crozet Tunnel—a one-mile-long, abandoned railroad passage turned hiking destination that cuts through Afton Mountain in Rockfish Gap near Waynesboro, VA. The group hauled all of their gear down the path and set up inside the tunnel, just beyond the illumination of the eastern entrance. They performed these songs in darkness, using only small lights between pieces to secure their instruments. The physical environment of the tunnel became a collaborator with the quartet. The dripping of rocks, the sound of wet gravel footsteps, and the echoes of their own voices and distant noises intertwine with their songs.


I was present during the recording, and incredibly lucky to tag along, as I am a huge fan of both projects and an avid Crozet enthusiast. Hands down, the greatest thing about hiking the tunnel is that it's completely unlit. I recommend walking through without a flashlight on a dreary weekday when nobody else is around. Allow yourself to be enveloped by the darkness. Walk to the very middle and stand in the void. Then look down and notice that you can't see your hands or feet. The only thing you can see is the floating marble-sized orb of light at the far entrance, which gives you direction and a sense of escape. I had this experience while listening to these songs live. I wept as they sang and played the “Cherry Tree Carol”, overcome by the beauty of their music in such a unique venue. I realized as I was standing there that I was inadvertently experiencing an almost perfect simulation of what people talk about when they leave the physical body and come back to tell the tales—walking toward a distant light. Heavenly voices. Faint figures passing you by. The tunnel is Virginia’s only hiking destination where you can have a near-ego-death without the use of any psychedelics.

This tape is evidence of an event that happened, but the recordings did not seem to me to be the entire purpose of the event when they were discussing the details prior to recording. It felt more like the fulfillment of something that Ollie, Justin, Evan, and Courtney all recognized simply should happen. People should sing in that tunnel, because of the incredible way sounds are carried and bent and bounce around the walls. People should play experimental music inside of the tunnel because people should honor the special and mysterious places in this world with interesting and visionary arts. That about sums up the type of artists those four are. So grateful I can relive the experience by listening to this tape."




Side A, "Tunnel":

Bright Morning Star
Originally a Masonic hymn which entered the American folk lexicon. We learned this from Peter and Mary Alice Amidon’s version on Sharon Mountain Harmony, who attributed their version to a recording of Walter and Lola Caldwell which was collected by Jean Thomas in Ashland, KY, 1934.

(vocal improv)

Idumea
This version sung from #47b in The Sacred Harp.
Melody: Charles Wesley, 1763. Text: Ananias Davisson, 1816

(instrumental improv)

Cherry Tree Carol
Traditional. We learned this version of the melody from Jean Ritchie on British Traditional Ballads in the Southern Mountains, Vol. 2

Bright Morning Star (reprise)

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Side B, "Tunnel Dub":

Altered version re-amped in the resonant dome behind the Museum of Life and Science parking lot on a rainy morning in Durham, NC, May 5th 2024.