The winter months are well upon us,
and we all know what that means — candy
canes, wrapping paper, department store
sales, Santa hats, and enough sugary holiday
music to give the entire Salvation Army
diabetes. Thank goodness, then, for alternative
piano goddess Tori Amos’ stunningly
deep Midwinter Graces, one of the most
compelling and thoroughly un-cheesy holiday
albums to come along in years.
While you may have heard year-end
classics like “Star of Wonder” and
“Emmanuel” before, Midwinter Graces is
something new. Tori propels her tracks with
Wurlitzer and harpsichord, as well as her
signature, classically-tinged piano work;
backed by longtime bandmates Matt
Chamberlain on drums, Jon Evans on bass,
and Mac Aladdin on guitars, the results are
ephemeral and uplifting, sultry but innocent
— reverent, but rocking. Throw in perfectly
crafted orchestral arrangements by John
Philip Shenale, and you have a holiday
blessing indeed.
Just as important as the sonic textures
Tori produces are the unexpected compositional
resurrections she performs on the
album. Far from the shopping mall versions
many of us know and love (or love to hate),
Tori’s interpretations of holiday classics grew
from copious research into the songs’ folk
roots. Mixed with choice original tunes, the
reinvented songs comprise an album as deft
and unique as the piano woman herself.
What inspired you to record a
seasonal album?
[Universal Music Group CEO] Doug Morris
has always been my mentor. I knew him from
the mid-’80s when he was chairman of
Atlantic Records and broke Little Earthquakes
worldwide. He’s always gotten what I did
and he likes it when I push things. He put it
out there to me early this year and said, “I’d
like to know what your take would be on
some of these songs. I have loads of seasonal
records that we put out. I’d just like to
see how you would make it your own. You’ve
grown up with this stuff.”
We talked about it being beautiful and
ephemeral. And I started to talk about the
fact that our ancestors have been celebrating
the rebirth of light long before Christianity
got in on the act.
How did you approach making these
songs your own — “Star of Wonder,”
for example?
I’ve been curious my whole life about the
story of the wise men and Persian mysticism.
I always thought, “I don’t hear anything
of their culture in arrangements of ‘We
Three Kings.’ So I began to think to myself,
“Alright then, in my story, you’re going to
know that you’re coming across the desert,
and you’re going to get a sense of these
men and their culture.” That’s the thing —
growing up as a minister’s daughter, sometimes
I would just think a lot of what I was
hearing was really where these people were
during their own times. So I wanted to bring
back some of the roots that I think the stories
are talking about. For “Star of Wonder,”
think Led Zeppelin, of course.
That’s always a good place to start.
I love the work that they did with their Arabic
string arrangements. So I played for
John Philip Shenale, talked him through my
vision, and he really got it. I tracked it with
the guys first — Matt and Jon — and they
got a sense of the rhythm. We laid down
the rhythm track first with the Wurlitzer, and
that gave it that early Zeppelin sound. Then
we brought in everything that you could
possibly imagine percussion-wise for Matt
to play, from tympanis to concert bass
drums, two octaves of concert bells, along
with his kit and all the other ethnic percussion.
Matt had a huge palette to work with,
which was exciting.
So “Star of Wonder” has that flavor —
you’ll recognize the carol in the chorus. But
it has beautiful dancing girls now. In my
seasonal world, I think beautiful dancing
girls celebrating the rebirth of light — in the
Christian story, the poetry for that is the
birth of a baby boy. But the rebirth of light
that happens every year has been
celebrated by our ancestors for thousands
of years and I wanted to capture that.
It makes sense why it’s called a
“seasonal album,” rather than a
“Christmas album.”
Being brought up as a minister’s daughter,
this stuff gets hammered into you. It’s part
of a language of growing up. You just know
hymns, no different than if you grow up in a
family where both parents are chefs. You’re
exposed to certain things — a palette.
Doug talked to me about the idea that
so many records are made just upholding
arrangements that get passed down. But
where do these songs come from? I was
driven to think, “Well, wait a minute. If I’m
going to do this then I’m part of a tradition
and that tradition is variations on the
theme.” For example, in Britain, “Away in a
Manger” is a completely different melody
than the “Away in a Manger” that we grew
up singing. The reason for some of this is
because as denominations were spreading
across the Atlantic — Methodism and all
kinds of things — churches would want to
have their own tunes, to separate
themselves from other denominations.
You’ve got to work pretty fast to start
pulling together carols and hymns if you
don’t have great composers at your beck
and call, and familiarity also plays a part. So
they would sometimes use words that people
knew and then put tunes from other
sources. For instance, “What Child Is This”
is from “Greensleeves.” Can you imagine
writing a religious tune to “Billie Jean”?
“Jesus is the Son,” instead of “the kid is not
my son.” So the Brits didn’t embrace “What
Child Is This” because
“Greensleeves” has been
a folk song for them for
hundreds of years. It was
sort of bastardized in their
minds by this hijacking.
I use hijacking intentionally
because there’s a
tradition of songs coming
from different sources.
Sea shanties — a lot of
early hymns come from
folk songs. The words
would change, and
maybe a little bit of the
melody, to make it a religious
song, because it
was a hit and people
could sing it. That really
fascinated me.
So did you go for true
recreations of the original
folk tunes?
I can’t see what it was in
the 1400s but what I can
do is make something that
has an energy that’s a nod to its roots in
spirit, and yet comes from our perspective
now. So I changed some words because
they were changing words in the 1800s,
and we have a very different viewpoint. So
I’m part of that tradition.
It sounds like you did a tremendous
amount of research for this project.
I did. But if I’m honest with you, I did a lot
of research not even knowing I was doing it
— just growing up as a preacher’s daughter
and trying to understand my household.
Religion is the center of my parents’ lives.
There was a burning need my whole life to
understand what was happening in other
cultures that I hadn’t been taught, because
it wasn’t in the Bible.
So yes, I was driven to find out what was
going on in Ireland before Christianity —
their mythology, the mythology in Britain
before the Romans came, the mythology in
Rome. It was fascinating to see that there
were other “gods” that had been born on
December 25th before Christianity that
were celebrated.
I looked at Doug at one point and said,
“Look, I’ve got my mom, and all this music
is so sacred to her.” Doug looked at me
and said, “Yeah, okay, so you’re walking a
very thin line. I want less of ‘Born is the
King of Israel’ — too much of that and I’m
going to go crazy, and your mom doesn’t
want you to be shocking, so you have to
please both of us.” And I said, “That’s a
really tall order.” And it is. But what I will
say is a lot of my classical training came in.
This is not a pop record. This is more a
classical work. Even though it’s contemporary
music, I approached it more as a kind of
classical study.
What does that mean in terms of
your piano playing?
I think it’s about structure. I would look at
portions of a carol and think, “Wow, this is
the magic. Now I need to design around
this.” So if you think about it like an architect
— they’re trying to do this in Bologna,
Italy. Bologna’s an old, old city and yet
they need to add more buildings. It’s been
really tricky trying to find the architect that
can merge the ancient and the new, and
what that design would be. That’s what I
had to do, to work as a musical architect.
The classical study that I did for so long,
when you’re forced to study compositions
and the different movements and why they
work, helped.
[Studying classical] gives you tools
that you don’t necessarily get to use all
the time when you’re in the pop medium.
But when you’re dealing with something
like this and you’re treading on very thin
ice and sacred ground in some ways, to
know that variations on a theme is just
part of the classical world [is important],
and I enjoy working and composing variations
around a theme. You just have to
make sure that your variations are as good
as the old ones, and you have to know
when you don’t have it and when you do. I
began to see the reactions from the musicians
when they were excited. There were
also songs that just didn’t work.
In our last interview [Keyboard, February
’08], you spoke about the different
hats you wear in the music
creation process. It sounds like what
you’re talking about now is more the
Tori-the-producer role.
Yes, and also Tori the composer. This was
really more than an entertainer and singersongwriter
project. You really have to walk
in and have your chops up to speed as a
writer and as a player. Everybody I worked
with was really surprised, and all they said
was, “We had no idea that this is what it
would be.” I said, “Well, what did you think
it was going to be?” They said, “Well, we
didn’t know, but not this. This is different.”
Some of them just thought that they were
going to walk in and do what they knew in
their heads as a Christmas seasonal
record. But they were in there doing all
kinds of different rhythms and textures.
This is not a shocking album. In fact,
the shocking thing about this record is
that there’s nothing shocking on it. I don’t
have that hidden track called, “She’s A
Hussy, Merry Christmas.” At the start,
Doug said to me, “Tori, you’ve proven
yourself. You’ve shocked us enough for
many lifetimes, so can you just do something
beautiful and ephemeral?” And I
said, “Yeah, I can do that.”
What was the dynamic like working
with a full orchestra on this record?
I really trust Philly — John Philip Shenale
— as an arranger. He’s great, and he
understands the songs that I’ve written.
We spent a lot of time talking, he sent
the arrangements in, and we went
through it all. By the time we did the
string date or the brass date, I knew
every part of the arrangement — if something
wasn’t quite right, we changed it.
Therefore, there shouldn’t be any surprises
on the string date.
Years ago I worked with a string
arranger who wouldn’t let anybody hear
his arrangements before recording. This
was when I was just a bit naïve, he was
well known, and I let somebody at the
record company talk me into it. Well, the
day we were recording, honestly, hand
on my heart, I said, “Oh dear, we must
have the wrong song up
because there’s no way
this could be right.” I
thought I was listening to a
train wreck, and there were
four songs like this. It was
the most painful day of my
life. At the end of the day, I
looked at everybody and I
said, “Okay, we’re going to
have one drink and then
we’re coming back and I’m
erasing the whole f***ing
thing.” They said, “You are
not. It’s a 70-piece orchestra.”
I said, “I am too. I’m
the producer and the artist.
I know the budget. I’m the
one that has to be accountable
and this could destroy
somebody called Tori’s
career. That is not going to
happen.” I knew that so much
money was involved that the
record company might try to
make me keep it. So I erased
it and I learned.
Therefore, I never work with anybody
who can’t show their arrangements before
a string date. John Philip Shenale and I
have a great relationship, so that’s why
that works.
Judging by where you are today, it
was the right choice.
Yes. But you don’t have hindsight in the
moment. You have to trust your musicality,
and I was just sick. My heart was breaking.
I said to myself, “Okay, this is an expensive
lesson, but we’re never going to do
this again.” You don’t work with musicians
who can’t share with you where they think
something should go.
When you talked about brushing up
your chops for this album, did that
manifest in going back and studying
counterpoint and running scales?
I had to play a lot. I did play the harpsichord
on a couple songs, more as a
background instrument with the piano.
But that meant that my fingering had to
be really tight. I would work on what I
knew I was going to have to play so that
my fingering was confident and so that
my fingers would get to know the landscape
of this new structure. The piano is
very central on this record, more so than
in many years.
Midwinter Keys, Shifting Registers
“Bösendorfer came down and gave the recording piano this gorgeous makeover,” says
Tori. “Which was important because you hear the piano a lot on this work, and she
shines.” The company-lent piano was recorded at Martian Engineering in Cornwall.
While tracking with the piano and her harpsichord, Tori employed a signature
keyboard technique. “Sometimes one hand plays on one register and the other on
another register, and then that might swap in the ‘B’ section of a song to other keyboards,”
she describes. “So you might play Rhodes with the left hand and use the
right hand on a different instrument. Then you’d pick that left hand up and play the
higher register on the piano, so you’re playing possibly a bass configuration with
your left hand but on the higher notes. Then your right plays in the mids, maybe
around the middle C area. You would never play the same way with your left hand as
with your right, so to put it in that higher register, already you’re creating new possibilities
of tone and rhythm, and the marriage is a unique one. It’s a wonderful hybrid
creature,” she continues. “I use this technique on every record now. In ‘Star of
Wonder’ there’s some of that going on.”
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