Experimental cellist Clarice Jensen finds inspiration in Bach, and a few electronics

You never know quite what you’re going to get with a Clarice Jensen album. The restless musician and composer, not content to be just a regulation cellist, thrives on disguising her instrument, usually with an arsenal of electronics. From album to album it may roar like a jet engine, imitate a pipe organ or fester beautifully in a fuzzed out wall of ambience. And then sometimes, the cello isn’t there at all.

Jensen’s new album, In holiday clothing, out of the great darkness, is yet another captivating search for sound, and it may be her best yet. The surprise this time is that she lets her acoustic cello do the heavy lifting, and sets most of the gear aside.

Her inspiration, she says, comes from the solo Cello Suites by Johann Sebastian Bach: “Having found ways to expand the sound and voices of my instrument through electronics, I found it fitting to return to Bach’s works as a guide, or at least as a way to touch back in with the tradition of the instrument.”

The suites, written around 1720, are both a bible and a Mount Everest for any cellist, providing a broad range of textures, voices and emotions — enough for a lifetime of study and amazement. If you know Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1, you’ll hear that flowing, arpeggiated line echo in the opening measures of Jensen’s album, in the title track. Jensen loops the theme around itself then soars above, layering in a long and yearning line that will make you melt. She’s not really borrowing from Bach; instead she’s creating her own new language stimulated by his classic literature.

Jensen embraces the acoustic warmth of her cello on the new album as never before, even when she’s doctoring it with looping pedals, delays and octave shifters. In the piece 2,1 she applies a tangy electronic pulse, which acts as a foundational drone and offers a stark juxtaposition to the creamy cello layers. It’s also a nod to Bach in a geeky kind of way, as it’s built like a sarabande, a slow dance found in his cello suites.

In holiday clothing is an homage to Bach, surely. But it’s also an ambient oasis — a space to slow down, listen closely and perhaps even reflect. So I was surprised to learn that Jensen played music from the album on tour with the emo band My Chemical Romance. The piece From a to b, with its undulating counterpoint and chilled out vibe, was a hit at the shows when Jensen, alone on stage, played it as an interlude. As one reddit commenter noted, “It was such a beautiful way to make everyone sit with their feelings.” Score one point for the ambient Bach-inspired cellist.

Jensen also scores points by creating something large and complex out of the smallest musical gestures. In the album’s closer, Unity, she begins with simple bow strokes, as if she’s tuning up her cello. But then she builds, brick by brick, to reveal a kaleidoscopic, surging cathedral of sound.

With this album, Jensen reminds us how past and present can combine in potent, emotionally charged ways — how Bach’s old school traditions and our new age of electronics can make arresting bedfellows.