Words by Jack Rollo
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As we arrive at Hamewith there is a fire ticking in the grate.
Mat has a record on, something gentle and scattered sounding.
Aimée is organising things in her painting studio where they have fixed up a bed for us. Agnes is at a friend’s house but coming back soon. Perched over the sea at East Neuk it is a low stone house, battered by the wind and warmed by the pale sunshine. But more than a place, it is a space, a feeling, an approach to living and collaborating, a whole world.
A world that also spins here, on this vinyl record.
While we drink tea by the fire the conversation turns to moments of revelation. The way out of yourself and towards everyone and everything else via making and doing on a small scale in a small place. This shift in scale and conception is important to keep In mind while listening. This is music born out of a sort of homemade ecstatic.
Guitars hum and chime. Unidentifiable electronics swoop and splutter. Cassette tapes reused a hundred times stop and start again.
Miniature constructions of time and music pile up on a desk by the window. Aimée paints each cover differently from the last in a labour of love and concentration. Agnes tries out her makeup collection on Mat. Outside the sea shifts and the sky shines.
All in all Hamewith is a home and a collection of music. A trial run just to show us what might be possible. A maquette for a different way of making, thinking and listening.