Trifolia played an intimate set of strange and wonderful music at Jazz Fest.
The National Arts Centre’s fourth stage was turned into a jazz café for the show, with sets of small candles lit dimly by candles circling the main stage.
In this dim setting, the band played a set of chillingly calm instrumental pieces. The band weaved complex melodies and rhythms in and out of each other to create an incredibly broad and powerful sound despite only having three members.
They opened with a calming piece led by Marianne Trudel on piano. She played hypnotizing chords slowly, the music melding perfectly into the personal setting.
Next came a piece entitled “Oui,” on which the piano danced and jumped in a graceful funk atop a bowed upright bassline played by Étienne Lafrance. Patrick Graham played ambient background on his array of cymbals.
As the song progressed, the drums grew, and the piano became more wild until finally it reached a climax. It sounded like the music was flying over a great mountain range, dipping through rivers and soaring over peaks and down through valleys, finishing on a final harmony between bass and piano.
“Coldwater Lake” is a song written by Lafrance, inspired by a camping trip he took, Trudel explained before they started playing. It painted the perfect sound for its name, with the bowed bass taking the lead and playing beautiful slurred melodies over the more ambient cymbals and a piano accompaniment.
“Trois Soleils” showcased the talents of Graham, featuring a mind-blowing tambourine part. Graham played rhythms with his fingers, palms, and by shaking the instrument itself, making a single tambourine sound more complex than an entire drumset.
For the song “Steppes,” Trudel brought out an accordion, which she had learned to play in memory of her grandfather. She said the song was inspired by the Mongolian Steppes, and it sounded just like that.
Lafrance made strange whimpers and slides on his bass, while Graham used various percussion instruments to create scenery in the background. It seemed that the Mongolian winds could be felt within the room as the sombre accordion rang.
Trudel sang a delicate, wordless harmony with her accordion as hand drums came in and the bassline became a heavy stumble.
The audience was lulled into silent bliss by Trifolia’s soundscapes, taken to other worlds by the masterfully crafted arrangements.
The last song of the night was called “Nagual,” though Trudel admitted she herself didn’t fully understand what the song was.
Graham played strange percussion instruments that created squeaking and shaking noises, while Lafrance moved all over his bass’ neck in a funky bassline. Trudel’s piano played syncopated lines all over the board. The song ended in a bizarre, yet somehow soothing organized chaos.
