Sinking, Rising in the Strangest Places: The Low Branches

words: Shannon Cleary, photographs: PJ Sykes
repost/ alternative edit posted on RVA Magazine - Apr 26, 2010

“The Low Branches craft careful, quiet, poem songs--sung so sweet. Elegant in form, elaborate in beauty.” –Jonathan Vassar

“My oh my, these songs of yours send me to a sweet, dreamy land where all things can happen - good and bad. It makes me think of dust and history and spiders - families, secret powers, and special nights.” –Liza Kate

“It is the most thoughtful beautiful music I have ever heard. Instrumentally fresh. Lyrically emotive. Overall beautiful.” –Christopher Payne (Church Hill Records, The Richmond Scene)

“Their music has an intimacy that makes it feel like they're playing just for me. They make incredibly powerful and intimate connections with their listeners (It's still my dream to have them play in our living room)" –Antonia Fisher-Duke (Jonathan Vassar and the Speckled Bird)

“Despite being structurally simple, the music is subtly intriguing and immediately captures my attention” –Adam Tsai (of Nick Coward and the Last Battle)

“The Low Branches make beautiful minimalist music that just fills a room full of emotion using only a few fragile strums on a guitar paired with delicate vocals." –PJ Sykes

The Low Branches could have ended up a secret. Music that fills the secure bedrooms of our musical imaginations, but never destined to depart into the world. Multi-Instrumentalist Matt Klimas exclaims over the fact that he had no idea Christina Gleixner could even sing after knowing each other for so long. Upon this discovery, the two would venture off into foreign waters of musical tapestry and determine if they would sink to the bottom or rise to the surface of Richmond, Virginia.

The graceful nature of the group is not far removed from the ancestry of this scene. Taking cues from Liza Kate or Aimee Argote of Des Ark, Gleixner’s voice seems right at home. It’s the kind of voice that can quiet an entire room. In doing so, all in attendance become entranced and reencounter a lost feeling of whimsical adornment. While musically the band finds a home alongside bands like Low, they are a powerful testament to the idea that less is good. With a refined understanding of each song, the two dictate their crafts in a way that surround its listener with keystrokes and alluring melody in each subtle beat. It’s in these beats where you can witness an astonishing display of musical tenderness.

After the group’s participation with the first volume of the Listening Room, they had decided on recording an EP with local producer Allen Bergendahl. Their relationship started after Bergendahl received a highly trusted recommendation from cohort Jonathan Vassar. The group was familiar with Bergendahl through his work with Triple Stamp Records and Viking Recordings. It was a perfect fit and they trusted that he would be the best at creating a perfect musical counterpart to their live performances on record.

After thinking long and hard, the Low Branches decided the best venue for recording would be the Richmond Ballet. Klimas had an academic relationship with musical linguist Dave Watkins. Through this project, the two rekindled their friendship and would also partake in several musical collaborations. Watkins had been involved with the Ballet for years. As a result, the organization had offered Watkins access to their basement space in order to establish a recording/production space. His knowledge of the building and its limitless wealth of natural reverb would only entice the Low Branches’ imaginations.

It makes perfect sense that the band would find a recording home in that of the Richmond Ballet. When considering the nuances of their sound, they aren’t all that different from this traditional art form. In the simplest terms, a ballet is defined by it’s highly technical form of dance with it’s own vernacular integrity. As it contemporizes itself, the art has evolved and become timeless. The haunting splendor of any Low Branches song seems right at home with this concept, allegorically speaking of course.

During the initial days of recording, the Ballet was preparing for their production of Romeo and Juliet. This production and the general operations of the Ballet resulted in the recording sessions taking place at night from nine until midnight. The benefits of this would show itself in allowing everyone to escape expected frustrations of long days spent clamoring over achieving the perfect take and nurturing the focuses of all parties.

While visiting the recording space, each room is encompassed by a unique personality. Given the band’s desire to avoid using any digital reverb, the opportunities for experimenting with these giant sounds were glorious. Although particular spaces would not work as planned as a result of noises stemming from ongoing traffic on Canal Street and alternate variables, they would find the second floor of the building to be the most prosperous. With a practice space ordinarily associated with dance, they could manipulate the surroundings of this second floor room to capture the essential recording.

It should be noted that although the group excels in it’s modest arrangements, that didn’t mean they weren’t going to take advantage of having their musical peers drop by and help out. In this case, they invited Adam Tsai of Nick Coward and the Last Battle to play slide guitar and Joshua Quarles of Jonathan Vassar and the Speckled Bird to play cello. The Low Branches were so ecstatic after hearing how the addition of Quarles’ cello enhanced their songs. As a result, they are seriously considering adding the instrument to their repertoire. Besides Tsai and Quarles, one of their fellow live contributors Dave Lam stopped by to help out on violin. His assistance can be heard prominently throughout their sets from the past year.

The experiences weren’t all restricted to simply recording. The group is not commonly recognized for their use of drums. In one such occasion, Klimas and Bergendahl were both set up to record a few takes with a cymbal. As the song started, there were light touches to create a settling hum. In a matter of moments, Klimas slams the cymbal and catches everyone off guard except for Bergendahl and himself off. Out of the absurdity of the plights of capturing a perfect cymbal sound, all parties involved started to laugh hysterically. They couldn’t stop either. Klimas and Bergendahl aren’t quite sure what is happening and their confused looks just inspire more laughter. Eventually the take is cut short and they start from the top with smiles intact.

Then there were the faint signs of a ghostly presence on one particular evening. A sound began emanating from a corridor of the building. It was the sound of a closing door to be exact. One by one, each person attending the session that night went out to search for it. Joking about it in retrospect, all parties realize that they were certainly not acting in accordance to the ethos of most horror films. It became even clearer as each person who would venture in search of the noise didn’t seem to return. Of course, all was well in the Low Branches world but the mystery of the sound in the distance has yet to be solved.

For this debut release, the Low Branches decided to title it Sinking, Rising. Gleixner and Klimas decided to focus the record on the theme of water. Given Gleixner’s academic background in English and Poetry, it helped for her to create lyrical imagery that could best express this concept. They decided to have Sinking, Rising open and close with instrumentals. I can only imagine it helps to enhance the thematic nature of the release and act almost as bookends for a story that harkens all of the hauntingly beautiful emotions we have come to expect from the group.

While discussing the recording process with Bergendahl, he noted how working with Watkins was a dream and the feeling was reciprocated. For both engineers, they are used to working alone and having primary control over the production side of any given project. With this, they were both able to work off each other’s talents and if necessary, take the backseat and let the other take the lead. This saw some of its greatest benefits in how Watkins is quite the problem solver in a carpenter’s sense. Whenever Begendahl was in need of anything and I mean anything, Watkins could usually assemble any accessory in a matter of moments. This would also be one of Bergendahl’s first experiences using mobile recording devices for the majority of the process. This would help incredibly with the number of experimental takes that the group wanted to examine and not feel limited to a single room or sound.

Besides this being the first official release for the Low Branches, this project proves to be a first for two other ventures as well. Sinking, Rising will be one of the first screen-printing jobs undertaken by the recently formed Triple Stamp Press. The pressing company is a collaborative effort by Branches enthusiast Vassar and Wil Loyal (Homemade Knives/Triple Stamp Records Owner). In addition to the two being long-time friends, they are both great supporters and fans of the Low Branches. Also, the project benefits from the fact that Gleixner and Klimas are top-notch graphic designers. All four individuals are able to bounce ideas off one another and create the perfect aesthetic for this release. For Triple Stamp Press, the band is a perfect fit for their debut project and a wonderful representation as to what the printing duo will be capable of in future endeavors.

This release will also be one of the first initial releases for the label Church Hill Records. The label was started by Christopher Payne of the Richmond Scene fame and he describes the label as “the conglomerate of what I call our "musical family" everyone who is friends and playing on each other's records etc.” Their first initial releases will include Luke Saunders, Ferdinand Thomas/The Florentines, The Low Branches and a few other undisclosed Richmond bands. The label will be making it’s debut at this year’s Mid-Atlantic College Radio Conference (Macrock) at Jameson Madison University and even further so whenever Sinking, Rising sees an official release.

At the end of my visit to the Richmond Ballet, the Low Branches allowed me to listen to an early version of their song “Dipsacus Fullonum.” The song was a grand portrait in that it includes almost all of their collaborators that dropped by. Even with a rough mix and scratch vocals, I couldn’t help but rest my head back and just let the song sink in. They were a few days away from recording final vocals and mixing everything down. Believe me when I say, there is something beautiful brewing in the basements of the Richmond Ballet.