FEATURE:
Deep Inside an Architect's Dream
IN THIS PHOTO: Kate Bush in 2005
Kate Bush’s Aerial at Fifteen: A Sky of Honey
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I realise that…
in the course of assessing and covering Aerial, I have written about its second disc, A Sky of Honey before. As Aerial is fifteen today (7th November), I wanted to talk about an extraordinary suite of songs. I was musing about how it would look if the songs were translated to the screen. Kate Bush did, alongside Hounds of Love’s The Ninth Wave, bring A Sky of Honey to the stage for Before the Dawn in 2016. I did not get to see the show, but it seems like the songs translated really well and sat alongside the epic scenes from The Ninth Wave. Apart from Rolf Harris’ parts on Aerial – who appeared as ‘The Painter’ on An Architect’s Dream, and The Painter's Link – being recast for her son, Bertie, for the stage (and on the album on every release apart from the 2005 original), everything flowed naturally and beautifully. I wonder if the concept could be taken further and made into a short film. I still think The Ninth Wave would be a beautiful and thrilling short, but there is something tender, peaceful, and immersive about A Sky of Honey that lends itself to the screen. From the beautiful birdsong of Prelude, running through to An Architect’s Dream – where Bush sings “Watching the painter painting/And all the time, the light is changing/And he keeps painting/That bit there, it was an accident/But he's so pleased/It's the best mistake, he could make…” -, there is so much life, light and wonderful moments!
PHOTO CREDIT: @dfkt/Unsplash
Aerial Tal finds Bush ‘duetting’ with a bird and deeply engaging with her surroundings, whilst Nocturn has so much romance and one of Bush’s best vocals and set of lyrics (“Could be in a dream/Our clothes are on the beach/These prints of our feet/Lead right up to the sea/No one, no one is here/No one, no one is here/We stand in the Atlantic/We become panoramic/We tire of the city/We tire of it all/We long for just that something more”). I love how much variety and cinematic brilliance there is through A Sky of Honey. Whilst it is interesting to isolate tracks and focus on different snatches, the best listening experience is to do it all in one go; taking yourself from the morning through to the evening, then back into the breaking light - one is entranced and stunned throughout. Not only was it ambitious of Kate Bush to put out an album – as Aerial is a double album – that consists of a concept, but she executes every thought and song with conviction and nuance. I love how rich A Sky of Honey is, and I can picture Bush composing each of its tracks knowing what she wanted to achieve as a whole. Maybe it was her new life and domestic situation – giving birth to her son in 1998 – and the fact she was spending more time in the garden and playing with Bertie that meant the garden and nature was in her mind.
PHOTO CREDIT: @martz90/Unsplash
One can envisage a large and peaceful garden with Bush relaxing and surrounded by nature. Not that A Sky of Honey is all about nature and the garden; Bush very much takes us on a tour far and wide, and I think A Sky of Honey is one of her greatest achievements. A lot of people preferred Hounds of Love’s The Ninth Wave to the first side, as there was a greater variation of sounds and it was grander and more impactful than a series of songs. Maybe Bush was thinking about Hounds of Love and a time when she was very happy; it came after a difficult time where she really pushed herself on 1982’s The Dreaming. Returning after the harder experiences of The Red Shoes and her life in 1993, I feel she wanted another song cycle to get her teeth into that would give her opportunity to write in a very different way. Of course, there was a lot of excitement when Bush announced Aerial, and I can only imagine how people reacted when they heard A Sky of Honey! It is very different to A Sea of Honey and, perhaps, it is the closest Bush has come to writing a Classical symphony or her own version of an opera. When AllMusic reviewed Aerial, they highlighted the beauty of A Sky of Honey:
“A Sky of Honey is 42 minutes in length. It's lushly romantic as it meditates on the passing of 24 hours. Its prelude is a short deeply atmospheric piece with the sounds of birds singing, and her son (who is "the Sun" according to the credits) intones, "Mummy...Daddy/The day is full of birds/Sounds like they're saying words." And "Prologue" begins with her piano, a chanted viol, and Bush crooning to romantic love, the joy of marriage and nature communing, and the deep romance of everyday life.
There's drama, stillness, joy, and quiet as its goes on, but it's all held within, as in "An Architect's Dream," where the protagonist encounters a working street painter going about his work in changing light: "The flick of a wrist/Twisting down to the hips/So the lovers begin with a kiss...." Loops, Eberhard Weber's fretless bass, drifting keyboards, and a relaxed delivery create an erotic tension, in beauty and in casual voyeurism.
"Sunset" has Bush approaching jazz, but it doesn't swing so much as it engages the form. Her voice digging into her piano alternates between lower-register enunciation and a near falsetto in the choruses. There is a sense of utter fascination with the world as it moves toward darkness, and the singer is enthralled as the sun climbs into bed, before it streams into "Sunset," a gorgeous flamenco guitar and percussion-driven call-and-response choral piece -- it's literally enthralling. It is followed by a piece of evening called "Somewhere Between," in which lovers take in the beginning of night. As "Nocturne" commences, shadows, stars, the beach, and the ocean accompany two lovers who dive down deep into one another and the surf. Rhythms assert themselves as the divers go deeper and the band kicks up: funky electric guitars pulse along with the layers of keyboards, journeying until just before sunup. But it is on the title track that Bush gives listeners her greatest surprise. Dawn is breaking and she greets the day with a vengeance. Manic, crunchy guitars play power chords as sequencers and synths make the dynamics shift and swirl. In her higher register, Bush shouts, croons, and trills against and above the band's force.
Nothing much happens on Aerial except the passing of a day, as noted by the one who engages it in the process of being witnessed, yet it reveals much about the interior and natural worlds and expresses spiritual gratitude for everyday life. Musically, this is what listeners have come to expect from Bush at her best -- a finely constructed set of songs that engage without regard for anything else happening in the world of pop music. There's no pushing of the envelope because there doesn't need to be. Aerial is rooted in Kate Bush's oeuvre, with grace, flair, elegance, and an obsessive, stubborn attention to detail. What gets created for the listener is an ordinary world, full of magic; it lies inside one's dwelling in overlooked and inhabited spaces, and outside, from the backyard and out through the gate into wonder”.
Many people highlighted how Aerial sounds like an album recorded in isolation. One can imagine that Bush was tied to the home raising a young son, and she was taking more inspiration from her home and her imagination whilst there than she was from other people and the wider world. In 2020, her situation is very similar to back then - albeit she does not have a young son to raise. One wonders whether we will get a similar album to Aerial if Bush chooses to release any music.
Lockdown and these strange times would certainly have changed her approach to music and writing and I wonder, if there is another album, whether she has brought people into her home studio, or there have been parts recorded remotely, or she has written and composed everything herself – sort of like Paul McCartney doing everything for the upcoming McCartney III. I am not sure what the future holds regarding Kate Bush’s career but, fifteen years after Aerial was released, I think the album is more powerful and meaningful now as it was in 2005. The music seems to go deeper, and it provides great escape. I would urge everyone to listen to A Sky of Honey, as it can soothe the nerves and calm, but it is swelling and passionate; the instrumentation and performances are exceptional and, backed by some sublime players – including Danny McIntosh (her husband), Del Palmer, the London Metropolitan Orchestra, and Gary Brooker -, she created this mini-masterpiece. I am not sure what celebrations there will be to mark Aerial’s fifteenth anniversary today, but the album is hugely important for different reasons. To me, it is the sound of Bush in a happy new phase of her life; someone who has greater meaning and fulfilment than ever before and, as a songwriter, she sounds stronger and more ambitious than ever. Aerial is a splendid double album, but I have a fond love for A Sky of Honey because of its story arc and all the wonderful sounds throughout – including stunning bird song. I love revisiting the nine tracks on A Sky of Honey, as it is a listening experience that is…
ABSOLUTELY astonishing.