Will Long (aka Celer) and Rutger Zuydervelt (aka Machinefabriek) work together in a series of 7″ records, the first one ‘Maastunnel / Mt. Mitake’ comes together with two downloadable videos by Marco Douma. Note that the Dutchman Rutger Zuydervelt works as Machinefabriek since 2004 releasing several albums on labels in the likes of Type, 12K, Digital, Staalplaat or the emblematic Mort Aux Vaches. Has collaborated with renowned artists from the experimental electronic field such as Aaron Martin, Peter Broderick, Frans de Waard, Steve Roden and Anla Courtis, among others. Meanwhile Will Thomas Long has continued very active releasing records since 2005 as Celer, a duo that formed with his wife Danielle Baquet-Long, who passed away in 2009. This new seven inches is made out of fragments of a long recording and ‘Numa’, the first track, spread over a soundscape of bright lights, certainly melodic and with a drone background. The accompanying video shows perfectly the abstraction and luminosity of the track. ‘Penarie’ offers a mix of compressed sounds and ambient layers whose images in the video shown as stick and intercrossed figures.

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The 70 continuous minutes of Tightrope is actually 24 separate pieces, but there are no explicit transitions to show for it. In bringing each composition together, Long decided to do more than simply thread them together in chronological sequence; rather, the pieces are interwoven and placed over one another, forming a blur of mixed intentions and tonality, tugging Tightrope this way and that, sparking gorgeous harmony and accidental rubs of dissonance. It’s a ball of warm, ethereal tone that constantly writhes and rotates – sometimes shrinking into little remnants of low frequency hum, sometimes flowering open into thick lashings of texture.

In the same way that Long has collated 24 fragments to form a singular entity, his eclectic selection of sound sources amount to a timbre that feels pure and unified. Sometimes, it feels like Tightrope could quite easily have spawned from one synthesizer – all of its tones moving with the gooey patience of hot melted wax – but placing full concentration on any one element of the audio soon unlocks its intricate, characterising traits; specific balances of frequency, speed of dynamic transition. Regardless, it’s still impressive to think that piano, television, medicine drip buzzer, eating ice, acoustic guitar and the crackle of fire in a fire place (amongst many others) are all present somewhere within the haze.

Tightrope is ultimately a blur. It derives inspiration from Long’s trip to Tokyo with Yui Onodera, and was completed upon his return back to the US. Once the listener acknowledges that the music is founded on Long’s fresh reminiscences, the album’s structure and behaviours starts to make sense somewhat; just as memories arrive as a rush of partial detail and contorted chronology, Tightrope swirls multiple sensations and experiences into an essence of a place and time. There’s a certain vagueness indistinction to the piece that can sometimes cause interest to tail off, as if Long’s recollections are too vague to solidify in anything more than murky blotches of colour or disembodied smells that can’t be placed, but it’s never long before a certain shimmer of hidden static or ghostly whistle lures the listener back in.

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The 7″ with Celer is more like one would expect to find from Rutger Zuydervelt, and perhaps Celer as well. Not exactly the kind of music one should put on the limited time frame of a 7″ I would think, as these delicate drone patterns need their time to develop. Now it seems to happen a bit fast, but both ‘Numa’ and ‘Penarie’ are fine examples of what atmospheric and drone music should be like. It comes with a postcard to download not just the music but also two films by Marco Douma with interesting light patterns. In ‘Numa’ very abstract and in ‘Penarie’ outside with electricity cables and  bursting sunlight. Dreamy music and dreamy visuals. Excellent stuff. That’s the way we like them.

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Tokyo resident Celer and Dutchman Machinefabriek enjoyed making that lovely ‘Maastunnel’ 7″ so much that they decided to continue working together on a series of 7″ platters. ‘Numa / Penarie’ is their 2nd pair of works and follows very much in that blissed-out, abstracted form, trimming down longer experiments into bijou ambient treats. A-side ‘Numa’ emerges from a chrysalis of shimmering tones into a more heavy set subbass organism glowing with lushly harmonised pads. B-side’s ‘Penarie’ diffuses what sounds like warped brass into stereo swirling arrangement before subsiding into plangent chords sounding like the peal of wedding bells heard from miles away.

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A couple months back, we reviewed Celer & Machinefabriek‘s Maastunnel / Mt. Mitake 7″.  Since then, the two have toured together, released a postcard and download document (Greetings from Celer & Machinefabriek) and bookended the tour with this second 7″ offering, which continues in the vein of tender, processed ambience.  Included in the package is a download of two impressionistic videos from Marco Douma, which can be previewed via the release page.

The collaboration seems to have benefited both artists.  As two of the scene’s most prolific producers, their output has at times seemed overwhelming; the presence of a counterpart allows each to stretch boundaries and consider previously unimagined sonic twists.  As previously reported, Celer has developed a slightly more abrasive edge, evident in Bliksem‘s final minutes and apparent here at the 2:18 mark of “Numa”.  The rising drone and crunchy electronics enrich the short composition – a distillation of a longer work – by providing welcome contrast and an element of danger.  Like the cover art, this piece is a collage, and its strongest part is its promontory.  As the piece returns to its ambient base, the listener remembers where it has wandered.  The footstep hints of the fourth minute fall like mud dragged from the song’s center.  ”Penarie” introduces the interruption earlier at approximately 1:23, dissolving into near-silence before floating down the river like the couple on the cover.  A very slight ticking climax (beginning at 4:00) yields to soft electronic ripples and brings the timbre back to where it began: a cycle completed in only ten minutes.

Numa / Penarie is described as the second part of a series, which means that more should be on the way; both artists are on the right track, and after three more 7″s, we should have a very nice album.

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Talk about limited editions.  Only ten copies of Bliksem (the Dutch word for lightning) were made, and they were distributed on Celer‘s recent tour with Machinefabriek.  If I’d been in the Netherlands at the time, I’d have wanted one; it’s a great event-appropriate souvenir, recorded at midnight on the eve of Will Long’s flight.  As such, it reflects longing, excitement, hope, and a hint of the unknown: the quiet questions inspired by international travel.  Will the tour go well?  Will I make friends?  Will the music be effective?

Long is now home, and thankfully his experience was a positive one.  I’d be curious to hear a Bliksem II, a counterpart that incorporated the emotions of his time abroad.  The piece is perfectly set up for a sequel, as it bursts into life in the final five minutes.  Until then, it’s meditative, soothing, and benign, a series of electronic loops reminiscent of the ocean waters as viewed from the safety of a plane.  But in its closing sixth, Bliksem is visited by static bursts and a busyness we last heard on Celer’s 7″ collaboration with Machinefabriek – confirmation that the lines between artists were blurred on that release.  In these moments, Bliksem becomes more lightning than cloud.  These increasing hints of a new direction are encouraging.  It’s as if Long is beginning to emerge from extended sadness to tentative aggression; as if the cloud is trying to keep the lightning in check, but failing.  At the end, the static rises sharply, shoots over to the left speaker, then dissipates: easily one of the most effective Celer moments to date.

The shift in conversation from pattern and texture to moment and sound is a welcome development; we look forward to hearing more Celer music in this vein.

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Tarde o temprano tenía que llegar el momento en que deberíamos prestarle más atención a esa entidad llamada Celer, a pesar de que hace más de un tiempo ya que los venía oyendo, pero pasa que entre tantos sonidos uno termina por perderse y confundirse. Celer, como muchos de seguro sabrán, es el dúo formado por la pareja de Daniel Banquet–Long y Will Long, marido y mujer que dieron vida a, como dije, un ente que desde el amor marital crearon obras de profunda belleza, la pareja se formó en 2005. en marzo de 2007 contrajeron matrimonio, el que se prolongaría por solo dos años. Maldito el destino: el 8 de julio de 2009 Daniel dejaría este mundo debido a una insuficiencia cardíaca. El proyecto legaba a su fin, pero Will seguiría editando material de ambos, anterior a su muerte, con los restos con vida que en vida dejaron sin concluir. De eso nacen estas dos nuevas referencias, de entre las más de ochenta que existen. Y tenía que ser gracias a su colaboración con el holandés Machinefabriek para que hoy le pongamos atención, al menos con palabras.

Ahora, recién en marzo de este año, Celer y Machinefabriek se embarcarían en una gira por Holanda y Bélgica, y para anticipar y celebrar ese acontecimiento es que publicarían, a través de la marca de Rutger, un single compartido, 7” en forma de split. Ambos se conocieron en Tokio en 2010, el 2011 comenzaron una colaboración mediante envío de pistas. A finales de 2011 dos traces estaban terminados, a partir de horas de material. Un lado para cada uno, partiendo por el inquieto Zuydervelt: “Maastunnel” –túnel que conecta las orillas del río Mosa Nieuwe de Rótterdam– corre a cargo del holandés escurridizo, oleajes marinos entre una tundra de quietudes reposadas en la arena. Son muchas las mascaras que usa este arista del sonido, esta es de esas más tranquilas, que entre ruidos acuáticos, voces humanas y electrónica subjetiva esconde más de un track en sus cortos cuatro minutos. Es como una especie de marea que fluye por bajo el suelo, una vertiente por galerías de piedra, una suerte de resumen de su inabarcable obra. “Mr. Mitake” –una montaña en Tokio– es el lado correspondiente a Will Long, que también comienza bastante relajado, pero que conforme avanza se va tornando más agresivo, dentro de sus límites, claro está. Algo así como nadar en l océano, entrar a un buque, caminar por su superficie expuesta al viento para luego adentrarse en sus motores, en el vientre de la maquinaria. Una maravilla de distancias cortas, normalmente las mejores, envuelta en un artwork que como es costumbre en Machinefabriek, es de lujo: un dibujo encontrado por Will en una tienda en Jimbocho, Tokio, famosa por sus librerías de segunda mano y luego diseñada por Rutger.

De regreso al circulo inicial, y volvemos a Will Long, el revelador de la herencia de su familia. “Tightrope”, una pieza de setenta minutos sin respiro, más que el aliento vital de esta masa de ambient descendente, creado en 2010. “Ese noviembre ese visité Tokio en una gira con Yui Onodera para promocionar nuestro álbum. El último sábado de la gira, tomé parte en una colaboración en una actuación en un templo en Tokio con Opitope y Corey Fuller, donde toqué algunas de las piezas utilizadas acá. Cuando volví a mi casa fue terminada en un corto tiempo. Un mes después, el 31 de diciembre de 2010, me mudé a Tokio”. Otra vez el Japón como escenario para aislarse del mundo y adentrarse en las profundidades del sonido espeso. “Piano, la televisión, los sintetizadores, crepitar del fuego en la chimenea, silbando, órgano de tubos, el hielo de comer, guitarra acústica, un ordenador portátil, una conversación de la tarde, un timbre de la medicina por goteo, ruido de los coches, mi tono de llamada, micrófono de contacto y muchos otros que no recuerdo . En ese momento, nunca se me ocurrió hacer un seguimiento de estas cosas. Al final, todos ellos están”.  Elementos disímiles que se unen de forma mágica y misteriosa, indistinguibles por separado, pero unidos genera una sensación de espacios arcaicos. Dimensiones volubles entrelazadas con un orden preciso y perfecto. Ese tejido viene que estas son veinticuatro pistas separadas, armas capa sobre capa, “al final, todos ellos están recogidos, los recuerdos no deseados”. La cuerda floja pende de una suma de objetos recopilados en los recuerdos de una vida a la deriva. El recuerdo de Daniele permanece vivo, la música permanece en familia. El disco está dedicado a su padre, pero la memoria también sigue en ella. La música, intensa, honda, bella, abrigada por mantos de ambient estelar, un continuo que varía a cada momento pero permanece invariable, no es más que la excusa para recordarla. Sus restos flotan en el aire, y la tristeza, al igual que la belleza, se mantiene y se resiste a abandonar. He miss you, we miss you.

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Материал «Levitation And Breaking Points», посвященный всему неназванному и непознанному, впервые был издан в 2009 году в виде приватного релиза силами самих музыкантов «Celer», и представлял собой три мини CD-r`a (по одному треку на каждом), упакованных в специальный конверт с ручным оформлением. Лейбл «and/OAR» спустя несколько лет упростил эту идею и сделал ее более доступной, издав все треки на одном диске приличным по нынешним временам тиражом. Слушая эту музыку, понимаешь, что так даже логичнее и правильнее – не нужно выплывать из этого странного дурманящего тепла, из кокона монотонных, тихих звуков, приятно резонирующих где-то внутри тела, не нужно пробуждаться каждый раз, когда нужно поменять диски в проигрывателе.

Закономерно, что в этих трех продолжительных вещах заключено все то, что было характерно для творчества американского дуэта конца нулевых. Нет, не заключено, наоборот, выпущено на волю. Свободно парящие вокруг звуки, долгие, вытянутые, доведенные до того выхолощенного состояния, которое уже не позволяет опознать, чем же они были первоначально – несколькими нотами, сыгранными на скрипке или отзвуком пары нажатых клавиш органа, образуют бесконечные, то затухающие в полной тишине, то вновь вспыхивающие тусклыми огнями звуковые потоки. Их звучание, а, точнее, тот эффект, который замечаешь через пару минут, когда эта музыка проникает в мозг, разгоняя все мысли и начинает аккуратно перестраивать заряды миллиардов нейронов, заставляет вспомнить о том, что участники «Celer» когда-то активно интересовались звуковой терапией, возможностью исцеления с помощью подобных, заточенных под данный результат, композиций. Для достижения наилучшего результата вам нужно обеспечить полную тишину и покой, дождаться сумерек и следить за тем, как по стенам медленно сползают в тень последние солнечные лучи, следуя за неспешным и аккуратным движением образующих «Levitation And Breaking Points» звуков. Время и физические процессы замедляются, границы реальности немного сдвигаются в сторону сна и кажется, что в этом состоянии возможно все: левитация, преодоление преград, познание непознанного и многое другое.

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Breathtaking is the thought that enters the mind when this beautiful EP fades out after nine heavenly minutes, leaving a prominent silence. Beautifully open and warm ambience surrounds Maastunnel/Mt. Mitake. Nine minutes might seem but a photographic flash, but there’s more substance and ambient activity in its span that many struggle to attain over a longer period. Celer (Will Long), and Machinefabriek (Rutger Zuydervelt) celebrate their Spring European tour with the birth of this debut release, and it acts as a perfect taste for what they are capable of creating; the music is effortlessly warm and fluid, awash in ambience. For this record, audio was taken from multiple sources and sent across Tokyo and Rotterdam over Ethernet airspace. Rotterdam’s industrial setting of the opener, and the peaceful Japanese mountains of the closer, beautifully contrast one another; they revel in the appreciable differences of East and West while mirroring both artists’ worlds. On opener “Maastunnel,” fluid ripples of water act as traffic, trickling into the ears on serene, yet active, waves. Coupled with a feathery drone, it puts the ghostly, transitory nature of human construction into focus, the only audible presence being a high pitched squeak recorded from the tunnel’s wooden escalators. Acting as the rush hour, the aquatic feel is reminiscent of William Basinski’s Vivian & Ondine, and the transparent, oceanic tranquility of Dolphins Into The Future. “Mt. Mitake” closes by diving into the inspiring vistas of the Japanese peaks, through a rainstorm of slowly released static, representing the mountainous cycle of life. Eventually, lower drones enter and cast an ominous mood, showing they are just as capable of turning the atmosphere a shade darker if they so wish. Deeply inviting, the music feels reassuring and exploratory, similar to the meditative mantra of Ambient Temple of Imagination. We’re left with something to cherish, and a realization that beauty is often found in fleeting moments; impressive lengths aren’t required to leave emotional imprints. In our world, music such as this is a refreshing pause for breath when one is all too frequently needed.

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Instead of posting this review, I’ve decided to instead post my favorite quotes from it, which I find far more interesting. Please enjoy!

“Perhaps I am misinformed or (dazed &) confused”

“I think its funny”

“a bit too digital”

“I am not sure”

“Throughout a fine piece, one that won’t disappoint”