Passages shines a light on Switzerland-based Rupert Lally’s enduring, but mostly unreleased, work as a sound designer and composer for theatre.

Specifically, the three long pieces here – ‘Cenote’, ‘Time Projection Chamber’ and ‘I Lost My Body To The Waves’ – were conceived for a dance group performance audition. They find Lally in deeply contemplative mode, the tones and shapes bearing most resemblance to some of the quieter moments in his series of hypothetical soundtracks to novels. I am loathe to call these pieces ambient; they are, but they are also highly melodic, giving each piece a simultaneous sense of both stillness and motion.

Motion is delivered on ‘Cenote’ by a percussive sequence that drives the piece relentlessly forward, while never totally dominating the piece and overwhelming its textural fabric. With ‘I Lost My Body To The Waves’, motion is achieved by continual, rapid evolutions and the constant addition of new layers, giving the piece a sense of euphoric ascendancy. And yet, heard another way, the piece is languid and reassuring. For some reason, even though ‘I Lost My Body To The Waves’ has no obvious beat, I’m reminded of Martin Hannett’s instruction to Joy Division drummer Stephen Morris: “Play faster but slower.”

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I was listening to ‘Time Projection Chamber’ while travelling on the Tube from Liverpool Street to Euston Square, and then along the road to Euston Station. I’m not proud of this, but I stopped in at the W.H.Smith and bought a packet of salt ‘n’ vinegar McCoys that I didn’t really need. I hate wearing earphones while I eat crisps. It’s way too loud. So I boarded my train home, removed my earphones, paused ‘Time Protection Chamber’ and crunched my way through the crisps.

Why am I bothering to tell you this? Well, because the focal point of ‘Time Protection Chamber’ is a slowly-descending, exceptionally poignant and haunting synth melody that has the cyclical qualities of chiming, sonorous bells. Though there are many, many interventions and other sounds that arrive along the way, that melody is unswervingly, reassuring present. So much so that when I paused the music and devoured the crisps I didn’t really need, that melody lingered in my ears the entire time. It is a high watermark of beauty, and one of Lally’s most powerfully understated, resonant sequences in a catalogue overflowing with such moments.

As I said at the top, to date we’ve not really heard much of the music Lally has been steadfastly composing for these types of performances, for years. One can only hope that Passages is just that – a pathway to him releasing many more of these pieces.

Passages by Rupert Lally is released March 28 2025

Words: Mat Smith

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