For an afternoon spent escaping April gloom, head to the kaleidoscopic forests of Arborea’s latest record, “Red Planet.”

Buck and Shanti Curran are living the dream: co-carrying the fire, married and mutually caring for another while ever in pursuit of their shared aesthetic goals. Both contribute when moved, and stand back when appropriate. In their music, the result is inspired minimalism that has a way of lingering in the old noodle.

The cuts on the self-produced “Red Planet” generally come in one of two flavors: airy, plucked folk numbers or barren drones evoking desert landscapes. The title track is a tense version of the latter — unrelenting and changing shape as would molasses.

Yet, if you’re prepared for this focused, sometimes mournful space, Arborea cuts to the marrow.

The project enjoys an utterly unteachable gift in Shanti’s weightless vocals. Her instrument is a rich and trembling bellows capable of holding gauzy pitches on clouds of air. As a result, the tunes she carries, like the lilting “Spain,” are easily trustworthy and affecting.

One stunner here is the jubilant closer “A Little Time.” Arborea primed the pump for catharsis with plenty of unyielding meditations, but this cut, in three loosely woven movements, allows the couple to open up the toolbox.

An urgent folky fingerpicking gives way to backward alien blips and boops, which then gives way to a campy sing-a-long stomp. At the end of the eight-plus-minute epic, Arborea having some jollies comes as a shock and delight.

Fans of jaunty pop closure should probably leave this record be. “Red Planet” leaves you lotus-flower drunk and calm, but there are very few snap-alongs. Theirs is the old-fashioned art where the reward comes only if you care to put in the work.

Mike Olcott is a freelance writer who lives in Portland and Boston.