At times, culture can find you when you aren’t looking. Several years ago, I was thumbing through the clearance section of my local record store, an eclectic jumble of forgotten albums, obscure indie bands, and the occasional misfiled treasure. In that day, I stumbled upon Orange (2019; Nonesuch) by Caroline Shaw and the Attacca Quartet.
The cover caught my eye. It was vivid yet minimalist, a single orange amidst a pure white background. The cover design was simple, modern, and utterly intriguing. I’d never heard of Caroline Shaw or the Attacca Quartet, but the album cover spoke to me. For around $15, there was no real risk. At most a small risk, one I’ve taken several times before and since then. Picking up unknown artists and hoping for the best. To date, I think this may have been my only success story, but it’s the type of find that will keep me taking chances until I get lucky again one day.
From the first listen, Orange floored me. The album’s blend of classical string quartet traditions with modern, experimental sensibility is unlike anything I’d heard before. Shaw’s compositions balance precision and playfulness, tension and release, simplicity and sophistication. Each piece feels alive and reaches deep within the listener. The Attacca Quartet plays the compositions with such technical expertise, commitment, and fluidity that it’s hard for me to imagine someone not getting swept up in the journey. Orange is a reminder that classical music is not a relic—it’s a living, evolving art form that can be as innovative and boundary-pushing as any other genre.
Becoming a fan of Caroline Shaw felt inevitable after listening to Orange. When I learned that she and the Attacca Quartet had collaborated on a second album, Evergreen (2022; Nonesuch), I didn’t hesitate.
Evergreen takes the foundations laid in Orange and stretches them in new directions. Where Orange is a bright and kinetic exploration of sound, Evergreen feels introspective and lush. The album evokes the resilience and diversity of nature. The pieces shift within its ranges, from the meditative four part “The Evergreen” to the three part “Three Essays” that reflect Shaw’s knack for storytelling through sound. These are not just compositions—they’re both meant as conversations and as moments for introspection.
Shaw has many albums and other collaborators, and I’ve since learned that her music defies easy categorization. It has roots in classical traditions while being contemporary, informed by everything from the Renaissance and medieval French poetry to the rhythms of nature and modern harmonies.
Listening to Orange and Evergreen, I couldn’t help but think about the way art transforms us. There’s a philosophical undercurrent to this music. These albums remind us to pay attention and to dig deeper. There’s obviously something more going on beneath the surface, and it will take many deep dives to fully flesh out that deeper meaning.
Maybe these albums are so compelling because they balance accessibility and sophistication. You don’t need a degree in music theory to experience the emotion elicited by Shaw’s work and the Attacca Quartet’s technical prowess. Simultaneously, these compositions are rich with detail for those who want (and can) dig deeper. If you have the ability to say more than me, I encourage you to share your comments. I’m eager to learn more.
In a future post, I plan to review Shaw’s score for Ken Burn’s PBS documentary on Leonardo da Vinci and compare it to two of my favorite film scores: Daniel Hart’s otherworldly work for The Green Knight and Michael Giacchino’s brooding masterpiece for The Batman.
For now, though, I’ll leave you with this. If you haven’t experienced Orange or Evergreen, do yourself a favor. Take a chance on these extraordinary albums.
The Curated Life Worth Reading 
Leave a comment