Mree’s second self-produced album, Winterwell, is a passionate blend of heartfelt acoustic folk and plush electronic textures, brought to life by her rich, multi-layered vocals. Mree’s lush harmonies float in and out of the mix like perfumed clouds, drawing you into a dizzying swirl of muted colors and ambiguous emotions. Armed with a guitar and an effects pedal that allows her to loop her vocals into an ever-shifting collage of sound, Mree is able to reproduce most of the album when she plays live. The New Jersey multi-instrumentalist will be guest editing magnetmagazine.com all week. Read our brand new feature on her.
Mree: I touched upon “good art” in my last post. Speaking of … my sister gets it. And I’m not just saying that because she is my sister. Her piece Lust is one of my favorites, and I’ll tell you why: Bright red paint drips from the top of the canvas in a thin line. It’s skinny, but upon closer inspection, the line wavers in thickness as it drips straight to the mouth of the muscular figure below. He stands at the center, his head thrown back, arms in mid-air. The red piles up off of the canvas atop his head while his mouth is open to allow the substance to seep in. It wraps around his hands, sticky and string-like between his fingers, intoxicating and inescapable. The wavering of the red line brings upon a sense of instability, that perhaps the source of this red substance that the figure is completely entranced by might come to an end. He yearns for more, in blind euphoria as the thin line drips from above out of his control. I feel the pain in desire: the beauty and ache in the power of lust. It’s almost painful to watch, but I cannot look away. This is good art.
