Not your parents' avant-garde solo cello record.

Cellist Goldston, who has worked across a very wide range of styles in the past, including folk forms, presents us with what might well be thumb-nailed as cello via Kevin Drumm. Her Bandcamp description reads: "I recorded Open Space within a single continuous take: my cello, an amp, and a distortion pedal. I was watching a film that was a static shot across a very large canyon, the light slowly shifting. I hope it offers the listener room to breathe and dream."

That quote offers a quite handy clue, or even a foothold, to get more into this recording than might be the case otherwise for many listeners, not to mention enabling a more meaningful "translation" of the ten track titles; though a single session, it's divided into ten tracks bearing names like, "Gradual Carve", "Rocky Lavender Cliffs", etc. That implied long gaze on rock faces, sky and clouds, within a vast airy space relates extremely well to the grainy, throbbing drones that make up the piece. Somewhat reminiscent of the cello portion of Éliane Radigue's "Naldjorlak", the sounds are mostly deep bowings, growling and gritty, sub-petrean. One can even imagine Goldston's vision flying through the canyon, registering the variations in shade and texture, transferring them to the cello. Goldston remains in one seemingly self-similar area throughout, but it's anything but, instead alive with detail, richness and variety.

It's a bracing ride, not for everyone, but if you take the (cliffside) plunge, you'll find yourself on an immersive, highly rewarding journey.