Much of Along A Vanishing Plane—the latest album of emotional, cinematic instrumentals by multi-faceted multi-instrumentalist Christopher Tignor—feels like music for meditation. The dusty sweep of his violin, underpinned by synthetic drones and melodies are present to soothe the spirit. The boom of a kick drum, or the Steve Reichian marimba pulses, or the clang of a tuning fork, brusquely bring you back to center whenever your attention wanders.
That seems to have been at least partially Tignor’s intention with this record, too; the accompanying notes claim that it was written and performed to help listeners “transcend and reclaim ourselves from the noise of public living.” Hyperbolic as that might sound, it provides a fine framework through which to appreciate this collection. Through its peaks of volume and bouts of dissonance, the album works well as a bulwark against the ambient clatter of everyday life.
Beyond that, there’s the sheer technical mastery on display in Vanishing. Tignor recorded the entire thing by himself—live, using software of his own devising that helped him trigger samples and manipulate the sound of his instruments as he played them. Technical and tedious as it might have been, knowing how much detail and attention he gave to every last note and tone adds another layer of intimacy to the work.