I've written in previous reviews about the liberal use of reverb and time-delay effects on the voices of female world music artists. It's an instant signifier of mystery and spirituality, and the physical distance between singer and listener implied by these effects underlines the exotic "otherness" of the non-Western performer. (It's interesting to note that new age artists, who are to reverb what KISS is to makeup and fake blood, almost always obscure their own identities with non-Western names and allusions to Eastern spirituality.) The rhythmic and repetitive nature of many chants and meditative songs also make them easy pickins for another pet technology of ambient genres, sampling: just cut em out, loop em up and paste em over this month's most stylish ambient beat... and don't forget the reverb.

As ease of creation and sophistication of audience increased in parallel during the 90s, there was a growing discontent for this kind of fare among sophisticated listeners, which partly explains the rapturous reception for 1997's Cho. For Choying Drolma's part, she was an actual nun, so it seemed logical that she would sing in a large reverberating temple of some sort. As for Tibbetts, instead of using the voices of Drolma and her sister nuns as a garnish for new age noodling, he instead used his considerable guitar and arrangement skills to serve the Tibetans' compositions as they were.

It's with the critical response to that CD that the interplay of aesthetics and spirituality came in, for while the album certainly deserved the high praise it received, I wonder if some of that praise didn't conflate the two. In reviews of Cho and the duo's new release, Selwa, Tibbetts is often lauded for his understanding of Buddhist spiritual practice and his respect for Tibetan chant and song, thus giving the discs a sort of spiritual superiority over their East-meets-West counterparts. But what one really enjoys about these records is, of course, their aesthetic superiority to similar efforts and the reason for that is simply taste. Like fellow Midwestern guitarists Bill Frisell and Jeff Parker, Tibbetts is capable of incendiary playing, but more often goes for the slow burn or an isolated intellectual spark that shines a new light on a counterpart's melody. He is simply amazing at playing simply, or even not playing at all. Tibbetts would likely display the same taste and sensitivity (with drastically different results) in a duet with Iggy Pop--and no one would make the mistake of conflating taste and morality to explain that. Conversely, who is to say how deep runs the spiritual well of Kitaro?

The echoey ambiences that envelope Choying Drolma's voice on Selwaare no more or less "authentic" than on the average ambient world music CD. Tibbetts and producer Lee Townsend (who has also worked with Frisell) employ a wide variety of fascinating treatments to the nun's varied and distinctive vocals, which implies an interesting condition: though Tibbetts did record Drolma's voice on location in Nepal, he almost certainly had to record it "dry" to ensure the widest creative latitude in processing it back in St. Paul. So in order for us to enjoy the ethereal chambers we hear on the recording, she had to sing in a small, dead space. This artistic sleight of hand is performed so expertly by the collaborators that we never notice it.

It is through artifice--aesthetic choices--that spiritual heights are reached. Cathedrals and temples are made by the hands of men, not directly by the hand of God. If the beauty of jeweled Papal robes are God-given, then so is the beauty of Elvis' rinestone-encrusted jumpsuit. What we like about Tibbetts is that he makes good aesthetic choices, ones that allow jaded, middle-class Western listeners to place a small plastic disc in a machine and magically feel a deep connection to this fascinating woman on the other side of the world--and to something larger than ourselves. Tibbetts seldom gets between us and her voice by throwing us the cliché we expect. For example, each piece on Selwa is through-composed and constantly shifting, avoiding the rhythmic and chordal loops we expect, always keeping us in the moment. What we like best about Tibbetts is that he adds a teaspoon of sugar to Choying Drolma, but lets us think we're taking her straight.

Choying Drolma herself clearly does not keep her head in the Himalayan clouds. An interview included in the CD booklet reveals a strong, no-nonsense character--a feminist and a realist. The best track on the CD, "Vakritunda", sounds secular--sexy, even--as Drolma's doubled voice snakes through an Indian-pop-influenced melody. There seems to be a characteristically Tibetan Buddhist openness at work in this song. The Dalai Lama has said that if science disproves something in scripture, then his religion will have to adapt. Choying Drolma has proved herself highly adaptable, not clinging to illusory traditions or forms but creating new illusions for a new audience, leading them toward the truth she wants to share. Maybe superior taste is morally superior.