Posts from the Reviews Category

Choose another category?

The final release in a trilogy of collaborative 7″ releases is perhaps the best of the bunch. Working within such a short time frame – both tracks clock in just under the five-minute park – these pieces are all about distillation. ‘Hei’ is a distant cousin of Eno’s ambient works; a gentle flow of notes perforate a slowing unfolding drone that sounds like the earth sliding apart to reveal the noise within. The flipside, ‘Sou’, takes a more spectral route with rhythmic synth repetitions and creeping waves. Are there two more interesting, prolific and exceptional talents working in music than these? At the moment, I think not.

Link

This new release from Celer on Somehow Recordings is a bit of a strange one. Readers familiar with Will Long’s previous output will be aware of his habit of releasing long-form ambient drone works, sometimes as a single album-length track. Such a work also features in “Redness and Perplexity”, but it follows a further four shorter yet not insubstantial pieces, bringing the total album length to around an hour and eighteen minutes.

Aside from the format, another strange thing is the sheer diversity of sounds on this release. While it’s true that past albums have sometimes had strands of field recording and the odd blast of noise woven into their dreamy ambient tapestries, here such features take on a much more prominent role, becoming the main material for the track rather than simple embellishment. So we hear a lengthy conversation from a Japanese phone-in radio show, glooping hydrophone recordings, harsh digital textures, and space-age swoops and beeps alongside, or in the place of, more familiar soothing synth washes. It’s as if Long were trying out different approaches, searching for a new direction in which to take his music, or maybe simply collecting disparate elements that would normally be released separately into a single assemblage.

All of which would seem an outright rejection of the notion, so dear to modernism, of the artwork as a coherent, unified whole. Instead, “Redness and Perplexity” presents itself as a series of snapshots held together by the thinnest of threads, the edges of each shot not necessarily corresponding to track boundaries. The challenges of adapting to new cultural surroundings, as Long has faced since his recent relocation to Japan, may have been one source of both the album’s new-found experimentalism and its sense of dislocation and disjunction. Yet if Celer’s long-form drones have always relied on a certain playing with time – disrupting the linear flow of things with an out-of-body experience that is more state of mind than piece of music – then “Redness” can perhaps be seen as a continuation of this process across different registers, challenging the ‘cinematic’ urge to narrativise with a more fragmented temporality that, like the rest of lived experience, often fails to cohere.

“Redness and Perplexity” is an album that engages many different modes of listening, and deserves careful attention from both long-time fans and those who’ve never connected with the music of Celer before. The release comes in a limited digipack CD edition with artwork by Yuki Izumi and sleeve design by Rutger Zuydervelt (Machinefabriek), whose recent collaborations with Long may also have encouraged the latter’s sonic explorations. At times this album has left me perplexed or even red in the face, but it’s one I’ll be thinking about and pondering on for a long time.

Link

Для каждой из двадцати четырех частей, сплетенных в натянутый канат этого альбома «Celer» Уилл Лонг заботливо придумал название, разместив их все на развороте digipack`a. При этом разделить семьдесят минут «Tightrope» на какие-то четко очерченные фрагменты попросту невозможно: музыкант не просто отправляет их в странствие друг за другом, он переплетает их между собой, не оставляя зазоров для тишины, отщепляет от основной массы звуки и вытягивает их, изменяя структуру привычных и порой совершенно не мелодичных шумов повседневности до загадочного марева очень минималистического и нереально красивого эмбиента.

В ноябре 2010 года Уилл отправился в Токио, чтобы продвигать свой совместный альбом с Юи Онодера «Genetic City», а также участвовать в перфомансах и выступлениях его друзей. Видимо, уже тогда у него родилась идея переехать в Японию на постоянное жительство, да и вообще, наверняка при таких переменах в жизни в голове музыканта ютились тысячи мыслей, порой неподконтрольных сознанию. Вот почему, говоря об этом альбоме, он называет его сплетенным из обрывков воспоминаний, всего того, чтобы было уловлено в реальности и на грани сна, что было записано в повседневном окружении Лонга. Он перечисляет все, что оставило свой след на «Tightrope»: фортепиано, акустическая гитара, дробящийся лед, шум машины, рингтон телефона, монотонные сигналы медицинского оборудования и многое другое, к чему смог прикоснуться контактный микрофон, передавая полученные записи на лэптоп музыканта. Записи эти растянулись, исказились, превратились в бесконечно долго гаснущие вспышки далеких вечерних огней или проникающие друг в друга звуковые нити, чуть напряженно подрагивающие застывшим басом. Замечу, что дремотная музыка «Celer», создаваемая теперь, по известным причинам, только Уиллом, тяготеет к более (ЕЩЕ более) обтекаемым формам, обходясь без участия срывающихся на очень высокие и сильно резонирующие частоты элементов. Так что «Tightrope» предлагает нам встречу с очень комфортными, искренними, туманно-абстрактными эмбиентными пейзажами, создающими особое настроение у слушателя, даже если звучат они в фоновом режиме.

Link

Японские музыканты Минору Сато и Атсуо Огава взяли из «спагетти-вестернов» не только название «Il Grande Silenzio» для своего дуэта, но и очень известный, хотя и далеко не всеми любимый и воспринимаемый без иронии инструмент банджо. На нем играет Огава, добавляя иногда звучание своего голоса (как правило, неразборчивое бормотание или тихое завывание), в то время, как Сато извлекает звуки из самодельного, существующего в единственном экземпляре инструменте «RP3M», или же «roll paper punching program machine» – не сильно удивлюсь, если это каким-то хитрым образом переработанный факс или принтер. Для дуэта этот альбом стал дебютным, но его участники довольно известны в мире экспериментальной музыки, а появлению диска на свет способствовало их знакомство и совместные перфомансы с проживающим ныне в Японии Уиллом Лонгом («Celer»), который и издал «Il Grande Silenzio» своем лейбле «Two Acorns».

Я как-то стал замечать за собой (минутка объективности), что с годами все труднее воспринимаю японскую импровизационную музыку. Видимо, разница менталитетов или наращиваемый, надеюсь, с годами опыт слушателя, делают нас, простого россиянина и сынов страны Восходящего Солнца, все дальше друг от друга в эстетическом плане. Гарантией хорошо проведенного времени в компании с этой музыкой для меня стало участие Лонга хотя бы в качестве издателя и полное доверие его вкусу – но, о вкусах не спорят даже с очень уважаемым музыкантом, так что придется констатировать, что та грань реальности, на которой эксперименты японского дуэта представляют хоть какой-то интерес, находится от меня на некотором отдалении. Что же здесь происходит? Как звучит музыка, которую сами авторы посвятили навсегда ушедшим от нас вещам, еле слышные звуки которых еще доносятся до нас эхом? Совсем не так, как это звучало бы у тех же «Celer». С первых же минут фантазия рисует заброшенный, но, надо отдать должное, светлый и заботливо ухоженный пустой сарайчик где-то на пересечении пыльных дорог безграничной прерии. В нем и сидят два человека, один из которых очень монотонно перебирает струны банджо, периодически оглашая замкнутое пространство тихим, бессвязным напевом или обрывками фраз, а второй издает с помощью неведомой машины разные шумы. Шумы цикличные и довольно миролюбивые, как правило, это позвякивание в такт колокольчиков или дребезжащие звуки, не заполняющие все пространство и оставляющие много места для тишины. Не забыта и акустика помещения, очень точно переданы скрипучие шаги, шарканье, блуждание ветра за тонкими деревянными стенами. Сказать, что помимо этого в мирке «Il Grande Silenzio» происходит что-то очень интересное в творческом и культурном плане я не могу, это импровизация «под настроение», видимо, нужно быть немного японцем (любящем итальянские вестерны), чтобы понять всю суть происходящего. Заторможенность музыки прорывается только один раз, в «Rust», когда шумы на несколько минут позволяют себе заполнить все вокруг своим клокотанием, показывая, что и здесь что-то может меняться и развиваться.

Одним словом, материал на любителя. Любители восточной импровизационной и экспериментальной музыки – обратите внимание на «Il Grande Silenzio».

Link

Its been a while since I last heard something by Minoru Sato, who is best known from the highly conceptual label WrK which he ran from 1994 to 2006. They released musical works in a scientific context, from installations and such like, and dealt usually with one ‘thing’ per release. Later on he released a CD with Asuna on the Spekk label (see Vital Weekly 601), but then it was quiet again. Here he teams up with one Atsuo Ogawa, who draws and paints, but also plays the banjo and ‘provides voice’, at least on this disc. while Sato plays a self-built instrument, mysteriously named ‘RP3M’, and I have no clue what it is. They named themselves after a spaghetti western. All of the seven pieces were played through improvisation, and the shortest is just over two minutes and the longest close to nineteen. All of the pieces are played in the same slow tempo, and consist every time of the same thing: plucking the strings of the banjo, deep sighs (every now and then) and the obscure rattle coming from Sato’s instrument, which seems to me some kind of electronic thing, but at the same time I wouldn’t be surprised to know its something acoustic. Pieces sound strikingly similar at times, and one doesn’t know a new piece has started. Very much like a lot, if not all, of the previous work of mister Sato this has a strong conceptual edge, but whereas that previous work was almost drone like in approach, exploring sound phenomena, this one is from a more musical perspective and it doesn’t work too well for me. Well into the third, say about twenty minutes into this CD, I know what it is about, and then I find out that the whole thing is over fifty-five minutes; but I already know what it sounds like, so I don’t need to hear the entire release that extensively, save perhaps for ‘Rust’ and ‘Kettle’, two short ones in which, all of a sudden Sato’s instrument sound distinctly different, longer sustaining and drone like. Why not explore that a bit more? Thus one is left behind, bemused and puzzled, but perhaps not entirely satisfied.

A feel-good sense of liberty rises in the air of Lightness & Irresponsibility, exhaling a state of tranquility that is just as irresponsible and free of care as a delightful breeze playing in abandon. As this irresponsibility, this innocence in music and in play, stirs upon our face, so too does Celer stir creamy, sublime textures of ambience, releasing them into the air where they may fall with grace. Lightness & Irresponsibility is the iridescent brilliance of a gorgeously lit afternoon, one where the hours may unfurl in their own delayed irresponsibility, sleepily, to the relaxed passing of the day. It’s an afternoon that may only feel like seconds, until a change in the light is observed.

Just as these days remain long after they have departed, the sedate feelings experienced when listening to Celer’s music may also remain, if they would like to. They needn’t ask. The shy nature of the music creates an introverted circle of contentment and joy, surrounded by drones so sublime they become almost heart-wrenching, glinting soft, prismatic rainbows that illuminate whoever may listen.

Celer’s ambience remains in a constant motion despite the minimal nature of the two pieces gracing the album, and Will Long’s prolific rate and output of music doesn’t seem to limit him in scope or result in a decreased level of quality, as he is seemingly capable of releasing freshly-scented ambient flavours with every new musical endeavour and without any sign of risk. Lightness & Irresponsibilityis possibly one of Celer’s quietest releases. It is also a stand-out in terms of utterly gorgeous texture, only just rising above a hush on the breeze and straying close to the ground without ever displaying a desire to go higher; it’s fine where it is. Will Long’s ambience is now completely refined, perhaps more clearly and deliberately than any other release in his past, and he continues to display a complete understanding of the drone and its artistry. It is clear that Long is an artist with not only the experience and the maturity to effectively calm, nurture and slowly soak his ambient textures; he also has the feel of ambient music down, in that he never demands attention. There is a level of care in the music that reveals a love for the style, and of ambient textural development. The music remains introverted and shy, and yet still captures the heart.

Lightness & Irresponsibility may feature an increase of quiet reservation due to its Japanese setting. Recorded in Tokyo, the drones which hover have an air of Japanese civility, politely circling around a single pitch with a respect for their development and a courtesy towards their environment of Japanese grace. The drones remain understated, while gently rising currents of lower drones add a depth, resembling a concealed intensity underneath still waters. On the surface, the pitch never seems to stray, and this is the ultimate beauty of the music.

Lightness & Irresponsibility is both heart-crushing and uplifting, and a beautiful paradox of freedom and tonal confinement. Lighthearted, Long’s ambience is freed from any underlying, deeper drones which may enforce the restrictions of gravity. Long, too, is playful over the running length of forty-two minutes, but he maintains a precise devotion to the drone throughout the two pieces. Lightness & Irresponsibility may also be Long’s most subdued musical work. Just as thin as the breeze, the music is light enough to be knocked permanently off course at the slightest touch. Airy drones lift free in a playful dance, just skimming the surface. Like a thin mist, they hover in a pre-summer haze, settling in a period where spring is not quite done and summer is not quite ready.

Celer’s drones lay under a creamy sky, where white clouds drift as slowly as the music on a hazy afternoon. The two pieces share similar tones, but are entirely different. What makes this more of an ambient skill is that Long maintains an interest throughout the music, even though the changes which occur require splashes of patience; something which a seasoned ambient listener will no doubt have in abundance.

Celer’s daze of irresponsibility opens “An Unforced Cheerfulness”, as delicate and as beautiful as a falling blossom, where colours of cherry and vanilla fall in unison until they are cushioned by descent’s end upon reaching the ground. Mysterious traces enter inside the music, leaving perfect circles of interest for the listener and keeping everything fresh. Organ-deep, the drones may change to an unexpected, darker tone, slightly lifting the veil of innocents’ illusion. Finally, after their fall, the drones revolve around their tonal center until the desired resolution is reached. It acts as a reminder that a slight change is all that is needed to turn the atmosphere cloudier and cooler. ”Involuntary Impromptu” depicts the playful nature of the drones, a loving chase played out over silent thoughts. The drones feel thin, yet they are fragile enough to exist and appreciate, and the whole piece shines like the sun glinting off an airplane’s wing of dull metal.

Anything that has slipped away was something that was previously clasped, even if it was just for a second.  Music by its very nature is playful; she wants to run care-free in the late afternoon light, around the seasonal haze which separates late spring and early summer. This light is a beautiful one, and Celer’s music is at the heart of it; a sublime, blossoming light that remains forever attractive.

Link

Per Will Thomas Long, l’esile respiro ambientale delle sue composizioni non esaurisce lo spettro delle finalità ad esse sotteso. Ne aveva dato prova, da ultimo, in “Epicentral Examples Of The More Or Less“, nel quale si affacciavano sorprendenti sferzate ritmiche, e lo conferma su una scala ancora più ampia nel corposo “Redness + Perplexity”, poco meno di ottanta minuti di musica ripartita in cinque tracce.

In ”Redness + Perplexity” le tinte della musica di Long si fanno, appunto, colorate e sfaccettate come non mai, pur mantenendo nel proprio substrato quel soffio ipnotico costante e raffinato che caratterizza gran parte delle numerose decine di pubblicazioni a nome Celer. Ci sono le dense stratificazioni del brano iniziale, poi sfocianti in sciabordii sintetico, la pallida quiete inframezzata da field recordings della seconda traccia e le disturbanti saturazioni rumoriste della terza, così come le brillanti scie di tastiere della quarta (la più breve, anche nel titolo: “Sharp Sequel”).

Discorso a parte merita il monolite finale di oltre tre quarti d’ora “A Less-Abrupt, Multi-Colored (But Faded) Ending”, che ripiega sulla forma pura di una quiete decompressa, eppure come sempre prodiga di input neuronali e fragili modulazioni emozionali. Un ideale ritorno al conforto di un (quasi-)silenzio cullante dopo le divagazioni che nei brani precedenti sembravano esservi state semplicemente sovrapposte.

Link

Aujourd’hui je me suis allongé sur le lac. Vous savez, ce lac. Cherchez, vous le connaissez.
(Ils ne voyaient pas de quel lac je parlais…) Pourtant j’y vais, souvent, trop souvent. J’aime à y noyer mes pensées. Et en flottant sur cette eau claire qui reflète le ciel, j’ai beau me dire que toute cette pression que les gens me mettent, toutes ces mauvaises choses qu’ils ont en tête ne sont que… (Les flots se creusaient sous moi, non plus comme un lit mais comme une faille.)

J’ai commencé à m’enfoncer dans les entrailles des eaux. Mes pensées sont très rapidement devenues des réflexes nerveux, et de contemplateur je passais à “survis!” Je tentais d’agiter mes bras et mes jambes de manière synchronisée, à la manière d’une grenouille dont, j’espère, je n’avais pas l’élégance. (De l’air, de l’air !) Mes poumons se rétractaient, comme si je revivais ma naissance à l’envers. Aspiré.

Et j’ai voulu crier, sous l’eau – mais sous l’eau le son se résume à quelques bulles, en surface… Quelques frissonnements au loin, sûrement des poissons, et quelques lumières, sûrement… sûrement…

L’eau dans les poumons. J’ai respiré la moitié de la faune et de la flore par la même occasion. Je ne sais pas si vous en avez déjà fait l’expérience, mais c’est à ce moment que tout se floute. Que tout devient distant, et que cette seconde où l’on devient le lac est tellement distordue qu’elle est en fait une brève éternité.

Quoi qu’il en soit, c’est là que je me suis mit à tout voir comme à travers un prisme. Coloré, tournoyant, d’un calme oppressant. Un calme lumineux et kosmischique. En plein délire, me direz-vous, mais lors de cette noyade tout me parlait, tout… chantait. Et je me suis mis aussi à chanter, sous l’eau – enfin c’est ce que je crois. Même si j’étais face à la terre trempée, au fond, je me sentais monter dans une irrésistible quiétude. Je préfère décidément ce fond marin aux open-space. Pourtant tous les poissons me voient, ici. Moi qui n’ai pas de branchies, je devrais me sentir ridicule.

Et puis j’ai levé les yeux. Et j’ai battu des paupières. Je me souvenais de cet endroit, vu d’en haut, d’au-dessus de l’eau. Et je me suis souvenu d’elle. Enfant. Je m’étais accroché à l’arbre, en cochon pendu. Et comme moi aujourd’hui, elle avait bu l’eau. Elle en avait bue jusqu’à inonder les 35% de son corps qui n’étaient pas de l’eau. C’est un peu comme un cimetière de baleines… ici viennent se retrouver ceux qui sont perdus. Et les yeux vers leur ciel, chanter. Je m’étais toujours demandé ce qu’étaient ces interférences, à la surface des lacs.

Celer est le projet de Will Long, un artiste très productif dans la scène ambient (sous diverses formes). Et ce n’est pas parce qu’il produit beaucoup qu’il produit mal. Au contraire, il livre des heures de rêve, et d’impression de coma surréaliste… je vous invite à découvrir le travail de ce merveilleux artiste sur son site.

Link

Tutti i compositori ambientali, prima o poi, si trovano a fare i conti con il grado zero della loro forma espressiva, finendo per confrontarsi con qualcosa di molto prossimo al silenzio.

Will Thomas Long non sfugge a tale ambiziosa prova, proponendo in “Evaporate And Wonder”, due tracce di circa venti minuti l’una, la cui calma e apparente staticità sublima una testimonianza di quanto offerto dal progetto Celer in ormai un centinaio di pubblicazioni soliste o in duo.

Le registrazioni alla base di “Evaporate And Wonder” risalgono al 2009, pochi mesi prima dell’improvvisa scomparsa di Danielle Marie Baquet, compagna di Will nella musica e nella vita.

Un’emozione ancor più intensa percorre dunque oggi l’ascolto delle due composizioni, fragili contemplazioni di una bellezza fugace, rappresentata da rispettosa distanza attraverso un’evanescente coltre di synth e field recordings improvvisati.
Sulla persistenza vaporosa di sottili layers di fondo, si incardinano strumenti appena percettibili, mentre solo “Bedded In Shallow Blades” presenta un lieve crescendo che avvolge in morbide spirali, ideale punto d’incontro tra musica ambientale e neoclassicismo suonato da un’orchestra immaginaria. E memoria e silenzio, appena un passo più in là.

Link

Celer & Machinefabriek are having a great year.  In addition to their separate releases, they’ve toured, released a download set of the tour, and completed a trilogy of fine vinyl singles, of which Hei/Sou is the final piece.  Perhaps the most exciting thing about their collaboration is the extent to which each seems to have been inspired and invigorated by the presence of the other.  By pushing each other into new territories, they’ve each upped the ante, as best demonstrated on Celer’s latest release for Somehow Recordings, Redness & Perplexity – a Celer recording that strikes out into bolder and weirder fields.  In order for artists to stay relevant, they must continue to evolve, and that’s exactly what we’ve been hearing here.

Take “Hei” for example.  The opening portion doesn’t sound like either Celer or Machinefabriek, but the work of some new melodic, beat-driven producer.  After setting the pace with hi-hats, the duo introduces a synth warble and a drone – elements of their individual productions that seldom appear together.  It’s a bold statement, a confident, in-your-face opening that proclaims, “We’re not what you expect.”  Eighty seconds in, the entire song shifts to the ambient spectrum, while preserving hints of the opening in the extended support notes.  The louder elements are mixed softly, while the softer elements are mixed loudly, further inverting the listener’s expectations.  When the percussion returns, it seems less a declaration than a gentle reminder.

“Sou” rests in more familiar territory, but the melodic impulses remain, making Hei/Sou the most immediate of the three vinyl singles.  The piece opens with a sound that rests somewhere between backward masking and morse code, leading to a glistening center of cycling tones.  Volume is once again a noticeable tool, as the primary pattern rises and retreats, trading places with the similarly active drone.  Few artists toy with internal volume so effectively; “Sou” reminds the listener that knobs can be just as important as notes.

Those who purchase the release will also be given access to two videos by Marco Douma, completing the 2012 triptych.  A box set would seem a distinct possibility, but at the very least, we hope these fine artists will continue to work together in the years to come.

Link