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There’s a story about an old, old woman who collects bones.

When she has enough for a skeleton, she lays out the beautiful sculpture of what might have been, stands above it, and sings.

As she sings, a creature takes shape, flesh and form.

She sings the bones to life.

Our instruments are old, and the music too. Not ancient, but from centuries back, fractured by time. The manuscripts – the bones or maps that remain – we sing into being.

For us, making music is a way of making connections. It spins threads between us as players, embraces you as listeners, and creates webs across centuries and countries.

Caught and transmitted here via digital technology, you hear our three bodies, hearts and minds in conversation with one another, with ghosts, with history and with now. Playing wooden instruments, dreamt hundreds of years ago, we’re singing up spirits as exuberant as ever, from the bones of this music.