Julianna Barwick understands who she is as both a person and an artist, and she exudes it. A solo artist in every sense, her
liveperformancesconsist of little more than her singing into a microphone, her voice rendered hollow and enormous by reverb
andeffects. She sings just one measureat a time, some fragment of a melody like a car radio heard from miles away, and then
shebuilds on it, recording the measure and looping it, live,erecting accents and harmonies and melodies and octaves and
allmeasure of human sound, arriving at this cathedral of a thing, impossibly immenseand gilded. Religions have been built
aroundmore.
