Sufjan Stevens
Carrie & Lowell

“This is not my art project. This is my life”

Story of a dysfunctional family

To talk about the two people who give the title to the album in question, we need to take a step back into Sufjan's personal history. He spends his childhood mainly in Michigan (to which he will also dedicate an album, the first of the phantom and unachievable “Fifty States Project”) with his father Rasjid, the latter's second wife, and his brother. Occasionally, alongside his brother, he visits his mother Carrie in Oregon, who meanwhile has married Lowell; the sporadic nature of these visits is due to his mother's schizophrenia and dependencies on alcohol and psychotropic drugs. A family intertwining worthy of the best coming-of-age literature.

After the separation between Carrie and Lowell, Sufjan loses contact with his mother for years until she dies of stomach cancer in 2012. On the other hand, he establishes a friendship with his stepfather Lowell (with whom he will later found the label Asthmatic Kitty). It is precisely from his mother's death and his relationship with her that “Carrie & Lowell” draws inspiration.

“When I was three or maybe four/She left us at the video store/[…]/When I was three and free to explore/I saw her face on the back of the door”

In “Should Have Known Better” and “Carrie & Lowell” there is Sufjan's childhood and, in particular, those rare moments spent with his mother. But it is never a realistic chronicle of events. On the contrary, in his lyrics, Stevens works with images. Images related to natural elements (the apocalyptic scenario evoked by the burning forests of Oregon, the more positive one of a desert forest, rivers flowing in freezing valleys, the Pacific breeze on the coast), the animal world (birds and insects), or more metaphorical and evocative images (“my black shroud”; “fossils that fall on my head”).

However, Christian spirituality has not disappeared (see “No shade in the shadow of the cross” and “John My Beloved”), just as biblical references (mainly in “Drawn of the blood”) are still present. Substance abuse and self-destruction make an appearance in “No shade in the shadow of the cross”, while in “Death with Dignity” the "spirit of silence" of Simoniana memory is evoked.

Overall, it is noticeable that, despite a certain underlying resignation (“what's the point of singing songs/if they'll never even hear you”), there is never an intention to involve the listener in a pain that is too personal to be shared.

Less is more

Moving on to the musical component, “Carrie & Lowell” undoubtedly stands as the most sparse and essential album by the Detroit songwriter. Instrumentation is more stripped down than ever before, with an essential quality in the arrangements that is light years away from the pop opulence of “Illinoise”. Strings and brass are absent, as is the rhythm section. The electronic binge of “The Age of Adz” has completely passed, as well as the contamination of the Sysyphus side-project and the baroque orchestrations of the Planetarium tour. However, this should not deceive: do not expect to find yourself in front of an updated version of Drake's “Pink Moon”. Although it's true that the skeleton of 8 out of the 11 tracks consists almost entirely of two acoustic instruments (guitar and banjo) and the voice, it is also true that there are electronic inserts that are at times ambient-like (“Blue Bucket of Gold”, “Fourth of July”) and at times more ‘carefree’ (“Should have known better”).

11 tracks presumably composed during sleepless nights spent in solitude. The whispered and fragile voice of the protagonist perfectly fits the themes: neither too emphatic, nor too inert. Melodies rich in delicate introspection and emotional intensity, now rare to find in contemporary songwriting. An enigmatic and nonsensical lightness pervades the entire album, a sense of dark and mysterious calm that manages to soften the thematic tragedy of the lyrics. But Sufjan is keen to specify: “Don’t listen to this record if you can’t digest the reality of it”.