Daniel Blumberg and Amanda Seyfried enthral with songs of praise

An 18th century historial epic of biblical proportions, it’s of some wonder why Norwegian filmmaker Mona Fastvold’s underdog picture remains a mystery to most, considering the merits of The Brutalist that preceeded it. Co-written once again by Fastvold and Brady Corbet, The Testament of Ann Lee stars Mamma Mia! songstress Amanda Seyfried in the captivating titular role of the Manchester born and bred founding leader of the Shakers: a religious movement initially known as the “Shaking Quakers” for obvious explanation as one comes to observe. Trading ABBA jukebox numbers for radical reimaginings of traditional Shaker hymns and chilling original songs, Seyfried thumps her chest to the beating heart of Blumberg’s eerie compositions.

This marks the ex-Yuck frontman’s second collaboration with Fastvold-Corbet, of course, who could forget his appearance at the 97th Academy Awards which left quite the lasting impression on film score fans and experimental enthusiasts alike? Accepting his Oscar win for The Brutalist’s booming score, Blumberg gave a shout out to Dalston’s Cafe OTO and back in October, together with Seyfried, Londoners were treated with a full performance of The Testament of Ann Lee’s soundtrack at OTO in support of the film.

Marking his return to the Barbican programme, Blumberg and Seyfried took the stage once again in an intimate performance at Milton Court Concert Hall. The results are both bestial and beautiful.

To the surprise of no one lucky enough to preview the film prior to attendance, Blumberg’s concert manages to perfectly recapture the ecstasy of his commission for celluloid. What's most impressive is his ability to defy expectations with the omission of any semblance of a musical production akin to on-screen activity. Gone is Celia Rowlson-Hall's choreography: no claps, no curtsies, no merry-go-rounds. Instead, the wood-panelled, 608-seat auditorium welcomes an eight-piece ensemble, Blumberg and Seyfried included, who immediately take to their single file seating plan.

Alongside the duo dressed in black are violinist Billy Steiger, Tom Wheatley on double bass, Steve Noble presiding over percussion, and a trio of vocalists: Ilana Blumberg, Maggie Nicols and Phil Minton, who supplies the concert’s most feral, animalistic textures. Cymbals shimmer, church bells clang, firmly in the grasp of all. This is no ordinary liturgy. Shining subtly in a black sequined dress, Seyfried reads occasionally from a lyric sheet while Blumberg alternates between Steinberger, harmonica, and bell-ringing duties. Setting the tone is a magnetic rendition of the self-titled first track of Blumberg’s soundtrack. He occasionally locks eyes with his sister Ilana, whose vocals take over from that of Thomasin Mckenzie.

Ghostly bells continue to chime in unison, slowly giving way to the childlike free improv of Nicols and Minton, an assembly befitting of Blumberg’s tastes and provocations. Seyfried begins her first solo, “Beautiful Treasures”, controlled, tender, floating above murmured harmonies. Minton’s impossible to ignore muttering, crying, humming and howling.

Both Nicols and Minton are Fastvold's Shakers brought to life, figures rendered through dramatic baritone that veer between divine grandeur and something altogether more devilish. Throughout “I Never Did Believe” and “Hunger & Thirst”, Blumberg’s ensemble becomes a living ecosystem, mimicking the seasonal forces that pervade across Ann Lee’s transatlantic tale of manifestation and persecution.Nicols’ bird-like whistles and sudden shrieks cut through Seyfriend’s delicate delivery and Steiger’s sweeping strings.

By the time Blumberg leads “Bow Down O Zion”, performed in the film by Lewis Pullman for a congregation of new Shaker converts, scratching at his guitar as the chorus collapses into “Va vi va va vi” incantation, the world is his oyster. Silence falls sharply for Seyfried’s a cappella Stone Prison, her voice naked and fragile as Minton whispers wind like distant weather, before the pair reunite for the recently released duet “Clothed by the Sun”. Turning gospel into romance, it is the evening’s emotional apex.

Clocking in at a brief 45 minutes, Blumberg’s distillation of his album is short and sweet, sparing notable standouts like “All is Summer”, “I Love Mother (Pretty Mother’s Home)”, and even “John’s Running Song”, for reasons unknown. Perhaps those are best left alone, their presence in the film requires that of multiple cast members and Shaker extras, but given Blumberg’s commitment to invoking the uncanny, surely it is not beyond the realm of possibility. Albeit what remains is a faithful tribute echoing in the freezing winter, long after the final bell has tolled.