Album review: Ruta Di – Onwards & Upwards

Ruta Di (guitar, voice); Jakub Cywinski (double bass); Giovanni Crescenzi (elec. bass); Finn Genocky (dms); Alan Short (flute, alto sax); Duncan Eagles (tenor sax); Leo Richardson (baritone sax)

When Words Are No Longer Enough

 

Sometimes music has a way of saying things that words simply cannot. And that's very much the thinking behind Onwards & Upwards, the third album from Lithuanian-born, London-based guitarist, vocalist and composer Ruta Di. It's a fascinating collection that brings together contemporary jazz, soul, rock and the folk traditions of her homeland, but there's a rather touching story behind it all.

 

Following the death of her grandmother, Ruta wanted to write a song in her memory. The melody came naturally enough, but the words were another matter. Nothing she wrote seemed capable of expressing what she was feeling, so eventually she abandoned the lyrics altogether and let the music do the talking. What surprised her was how strongly audiences connected with the piece when she performed it live. Without words to guide them, listeners were free to find their own meaning in the music.

 

That experience became the inspiration for what Ruta calls Voice Beyond Words, an approach that runs throughout this ten-track album, with her voice becoming another instrument rather than simply a means of delivering lyrics. It's an interesting concept, particularly when you consider that Ruta is also a highly accomplished guitarist whose musical influences extend well beyond the traditional jazz repertoire.

 

Born in Vilnius, Ruta initially studied classical piano before discovering jazz guitar in her teenage years. After studying at the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre, she moved to London, where she has spent more than a decade developing her own musical identity. Along the way, she's appeared at Cheltenham Jazz Festival, the EFG London Jazz Festival and Rochester International Jazz Festival in the United States, earning recognition for both her guitar playing and her increasingly individual approach to composition.

 

And individuality is certainly something this album isn't short of.

Rather unexpectedly, Onwards & Upwards opens not with a conventional jazz number but with Auguries of Innocence, drawing on the poetry of William Blake. Ruta delivers fragments of the poem as spoken word while drummer Finn Genockey improvises around her. Recorded in a single take, with neither musician following a detailed arrangement, it's an intriguing meeting of poetry and percussion. There's something rather theatrical about the idea, with the rhythm of the spoken words providing the starting point for the musical conversation. It's certainly an unusual way to introduce an album, but perhaps that's precisely the point. Ruta is making it clear from the outset that she's not particularly interested in following a familiar formula.

The emotional centre of the recording is undoubtedly Song for My Grandmother, the composition that started the whole project. Here the absence of lyrics is entirely deliberate, allowing the melody to carry feelings of loss, love and remembrance without spelling everything out. There's something rather appealing about that approach. We can all attach our own memories to a piece of music, and perhaps that's why a melody can sometimes reach places that words simply cannot.

 

Nature and landscape also play an important part in Ruta's writing. Seven Cliffs and the Sea takes its inspiration from the Seven Sisters coastline in Sussex, somewhere she has returned to repeatedly over the years. The changing light, the wind and the movement of the sea all provided the starting point for the composition. It's an interesting reminder that musical inspiration doesn't always arrive from another musician or a familiar chord progression. Sometimes a walk along the coast can be just as productive.

 

Deep Green Forest takes us somewhere altogether more personal, returning to the pine forests of Lithuania where Ruta spent her childhood summers. Before composing the piece, she recorded the sounds of the forest on her phone, capturing running water, birdsong and the movement of the wind through the trees. Those memories became the foundation of the music, and there's something rather lovely about the idea of a childhood landscape continuing to influence an artist many years after leaving home.

 

And then there's Stevie Wonder.

 

Taking on Too High, from Wonder's magnificent 1973 album Innervisions, is no small undertaking. The original is one of those compositions where the musical sophistication is every bit as impressive as the songwriting, with its unmistakable blend of jazz harmony, soul and rhythmic invention. So what does Ruta do? Rather than simply attempting to recreate Wonder's arrangement, she introduces elements of traditional Lithuanian polyphonic singing, known as sutartinės.

 

These ancient vocal traditions use overlapping melodic lines and close harmonies, sometimes creating an almost hypnotic tension. It's a fascinating idea, bringing together the musical worlds of Stevie Wonder and Lithuanian folk music, two traditions you wouldn't immediately expect to encounter in the same arrangement. But that's what makes the choice interesting. It's not a cover included simply because the artist admires the original. Ruta has found a way of connecting it to her own musical heritage, giving a familiar composition an entirely different cultural perspective.

Things We Don't Say returns us to the album's central theme, exploring those emotions that remain unspoken between people who care deeply for one another. It's a subject most of us will recognise. Sometimes silence can be comforting, sometimes protective, but occasionally it can become something of a burden. By using wordless vocals, Ruta leaves the emotional interpretation open to the listener, which seems entirely appropriate for a piece concerned with everything we struggle to put into words.

 

Her Lithuanian roots become even more prominent on two traditional folk songs, Atbėga Elnias Devyniaragis and Oi Tu, Eglala. The first, whose title translates as The Nine-Horned Deer Comes Running, is associated with ancient Baltic winter solstice traditions, its imagery drawing on mythology, forests and the return of light after the darkest days of winter.

 

Oi Tu, Eglala has a more personal connection. It's a song Ruta first learned during childhood music lessons, and one that clearly remained with her. Its lyrics tell of a spruce tree caught in a storm, with a plea that at least its highest branch might survive so that a cuckoo can continue to sing. It's a wonderfully simple image, but one that carries a message of resilience and hope. And there's something rather satisfying about hearing an artist return to the music of her childhood and find a place for it within a contemporary jazz recording.

 

That connection with folklore continues on Lela's Dance, inspired by a mysterious female figure associated in some Baltic traditions with spring, love and renewal. Here Ruta moves away from a specific traditional song and instead uses the mythology as inspiration for an original composition. It's another example of the breadth of ideas behind this album, with ancient stories finding a new life through modern jazz writing.

 

Of course, an album with this much going on needs musicians capable of responding to such varied material, and Ruta has assembled an impressive group. Jakub Cywinski contributes double bass, Giovanni Crescenzi bass guitar and Finn Genockey drums, while Alan Short adds flute and alto saxophone. There are also contributions from two familiar names on the British jazz scene, tenor saxophonist Duncan Eagles and baritone saxophonist Leo Richardson. It's a line-up offering plenty of scope for contrasting textures, from the intimacy of guitar and voice to the additional colour of the horns.

 

And so we arrive at the title track, Onwards & Upwards, which brings the album to a fitting conclusion. Built around guitar harmonics and an alternative tuning, the composition represents a sense of movement, optimism and the willingness to embrace whatever comes next. After an album that began with grief and explored memory, silence, childhood and cultural identity, it's an appropriate place to finish.

 

What makes Onwards & Upwards interesting is not simply the mixture of musical styles, although there's certainly plenty of variety here. It's the personal connection running through the material. Ruta isn't borrowing Lithuanian folk traditions as an exotic addition to her jazz compositions. They're part of who she is, just as much as the jazz guitar she discovered as a teenager or the music of Stevie Wonder that she clearly admires.

 

There will be moments when listeners more accustomed to conventional jazz vocals might find her wordless approach a little unfamiliar, and the album certainly asks for some attention. But there's a genuine sense of purpose behind the project, and it's refreshing to encounter an artist prepared to follow her own musical instincts rather than settle for something more predictable.

 

Ultimately, Onwards & Upwards is an album about finding a way forward, drawing on the past without becoming trapped by it, and discovering new possibilities through music.

 

And perhaps the most important lesson Ruta Di has learned along the way is that sometimes, when you've something meaningful to say, you don't need words at all. © Glenn Wright

 

Self-released October 16