In 1991, Daniel Miller of Mute Records signed a group of female madrigal singers who'd formed a goth-industrial rock band - Miranda Sex Garden were one of the label's more maverick additions, and they whirled their way through the first half of the nineties supporting Depeche Mode and Nick Cave, setting increasingly loud riffs against their indie medieval chorales - One member, Donna McKevitt, who wore a vestal virgin outfit on her first TV appearance, was quieter by nature than the others. McKevitt (vocals and electric viola) was a graduate of Kingston Polytechnic with her ears schooled in Steve Reich. When an opportunity came to score Derek Jarman's last film, Blue, in 1993, it opened a whole new musical world for her.
McKevitt has spent the last thirty years making exactly the music she wants to make. Her modern soundscapes are both restrained and deeply emotional, combining the elegance of baroque music with an eerie minimalism that reaches back to earlier, more mysterious times. McKevitt has scored countless films (she is a favourite of the documentarian Mark Cousins) and dance pieces (her work has been performed at the Royal Opera House and Sadler's Wells); she has set the poetry of Maya Angelou and e.e cummings to music, and has worked extensively in the fashion world. Her acclaimed song cycle Translucence, a setting of Jarman's poetry, was a record "full of silence and calm", she reflects now - a reaction, in part, to the chaos of the band on which she cut her teeth.
The Swimming Diaries is a collaboration between McKevitt and the poet and film-maker Susan Thomson. When Thomson's mother was dying, swimming helped her process her grief, and she also wrote extensively in the course of the same month. The resulting collection of poetry contains 25,000 words, one for each of the strokes she made. McKevitt worked in her home studio on the south coast to score music that resonates deeply with those words. She turned dreamlike lines into vivid songs, bringing new colours to them with her own voice. The meditation on grief answered a need for her too: McKevitt had just said goodbye to her dearest friend, whom she had nursed in his last illness at her family home.
The Swimming Diaries is McKevitt's most personal work yet, and a standalone album in its own right. It is also the soundtrack to a film by Thomson, shot at the stunning Clontarf baths, a seawater pool in Dublin Bay. Cranes and factory chimneys can be made out on the horizon in a setting both serene and industrial. A team of dancers deliver a raw and beautiful routine around an empty hospital bed. The story of Achilles floats in, with a young boy dressed in a toga and lit like something from Zeferelli. A medieval knight loses his armour, piece by clanking piece, at the edge of the pool.
McKevitt's soundtrack is a pure expression of what she does best as a composer.
