2007-11-18
A chair backed to the wall of a dark room. The only bright spot of light there is, shines on a character sitting on that chair. On that chair, Polly Jean Harvey sits with a white dress, messed up hair and with no signs of make up. A white chalk. A pale figure. Present and not present all together. On one hand, the center of attention, on the other hand, fades away and blend with the illuminate wall behind her. Only her shadow, projected near her bolds up the cold, perhaps numb, figure on the chair.
When Harvey decided on putting out an album with a cover so simple yet so loaded, you can't help but wonder for it's meaning. On the album, the same way that Harvey strips from colors or diversions, she strips herself from her guitar and big arrangements. She gives it up for the small, minimalist acoustic environment. Illuminated and pale as one.
P.J. Harvey's choice to unplug herself, and trade her well-played guitar for a piano is an interesting choice by itself. The kind of choice that goes well with Harvey's tendency of always explore and always try to variate her musical style. And so, she does go through lots of exploration and boundary pushing, but was the exploration successful, or did she find what she needed? That's a whole different question.
To put yourself out there, naked in the spotlight is not an easy job. Emotionally of course, but musically as well. Where the guitar distortions end - the piano has to come through, where her shouting and massive arrangements back down - her melodies have to become much more interesting. And when Harvey sits on that chair, in front of her piano, or in her artwork cover, she turns definitely much too pale.
Throughout 11 tracks, Harvey builds and tears vocal harmonies, backs herself up with a piano and a whole bunch of interesting acoustic instruments. But still, magically they all blend into an uninteresting mixture that seems to keep recreating and repeating itself. Polly Jean's voice, turned from a core of emotions into a monotonic verse.
From the moment I found out that this CD will be constructed by basically vocals and piano only, I was expecting a much more emotional ride. I was sure that where her loud guitars came quiet, her emotional dynamic range will carry on. And with this opportunity to get the most intimate with her listeners as she can get, she will sweep us off our feet and take us down to the core of her true color.
In the last Marian Faithful album, Pj Harvey contributed some great songs. While listening to those songs, I rose my expectations for "White chalk". Unfortunately, it's apparent that Harvey wasted her interesting parts on someone else's record, and when it came down to her own album, she was left with no, if at all, interesting ideas.
Roy Povarchik
