Showing posts with label bvdub. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bvdub. Show all posts
on Saturday, 16 October 2010
Each time I listen to this album i'm left wondering why it took me so long to understand it, to see what all the fuss was about and to fall totally and utterly in love with it. Without doubt Treny has a firm place in amongst my favourite ambient albums, a worthy contempary of albums like The Fun Years - Baby, It's Cold Inside, Grouper's Dragging a Dead Deer Up a Hill, Phill Niblocks Touch Strings, BvDubs Prayer to False Gods and Eluviums Lambent Material. Its sound is so soothing, deep, not warm, almost eerie in places, but generally enchanting, maybe even spiritual, certainly angelic, the kind of album that demands to be listened to through headphones and certainly a grower.



Spoiler : What Boomkat and Miasmah Said :
Marsen Jules, Arvo Part, Zbigniew Preisner's soundtrack work for Krzysztof Kieslowski, Deaf Center, Max Richter, Erik Satie, Alberto Iglesias - if you are familiar and in awe of any or all of these names then this latest album on the exceptional Miasmah label will no doubt end up on your essential listening pile for the foreseeable future. Jacaszek has managed with "Treny" to assemble an album so heart-stoppingly beautiful and personal that we've been stunned into silence for its entire 55 minute duration. With string arrangements provided courtesy of Stefan Wesolowski, the foundations of the album are set with Cello and Violin painting fragile outlines coloured by subtle electronic manipulations, harp, piano and reduced, haunting operatic voices. Unlike so many of his contemporaries, Michael Jacaszek doesn't make use of any samples, with everything on the album assembled by the musicians on hand (notably Maja Sieminska, Anja Smiszek-Wesolowska and Wesolowski and Jcaszek themselves) - and the subtle grandeur of the album is almost impossible to take in over one sitting, even if the impact is absolutely immediate. This is the kind of album that you just cannot believe a bijou imprint like Miasmah is able to lay its hands on - such is the scale of its success that it feels like a hugely important piece of work, far outweighing almost anything else we've heard in the modern classical field these last eighteen months. Cinematic without ever feeling contrived, "Treny" is surely one of the most impressive, mystical and astonishing albums of the year - we just cannot imagine that anyone listening to it will fail to be utterly bowled over and taken in - listen to the previews and you'll get an idea of just what we mean. Deaf Center's Miasmah label has slowly and carefully assembled a life-changing catalogue of releases designed to enrich and expand our musical horizons, and with "Treny" they have just delivered their most complete and compelling musical statement to date. We absolutely implore you to check this album out, one of the year's most important releases thus far. ESSENTIAL PURCHASE.

Miasmah

Michal Jacaszek's 'Treny' is the seventh release from Norway's Miasmah label - a label that has already created a unique and distinctive identity for itself through a string of releases existing in the darker side of the musical spectrum. Bringing together a variety of musicians and composers from around the world, each artist shares a similar aesthetic and a penchant for introspective, lamenting, classically-influenced music. With this in mind, no better home comes to mind for the new album by Poland's Jacaszek - in fact, it could even be argued that 'Treny' typifies the Miasmah 'sound' and encapsulates everything that is so gripping about the label right now.

The opening track, 'Rytm to Niesmiertelnosc I', sets the dimly-lit scene perfectly. A beautifully arranged string quartet and a lonesome female voice are framed with waves of distant underwater rumbles and creaks, with fragments of harp occasionally breaking to surface to release mournful motifs onto the dense musical canvas. It could be argued that the talent that Mr. Jacaszek holds is in his perfect blending of acoustic and electronic sounds, inasmuch that it is hard to tell where tape loops end and forlorn violin melodies begin.

By the beginning of the second piece, the appropriately titled 'Lament', Jacaszek has already firmly established a sound for himself. Clearly influenced by the liturgical compositions of Henryk Gorecki or John Tavener, with a healthy pinch of Angelo Badalamenti's mood-setting soundscapes, Jacaszek manages to find his own niche somewhere between Murcof and Francois Tetaz's indispensible score for 'Wolf Creek' - somewhere dark and mysterious but ultimately beautifully rewarding and moving.

There are traces of optimism in these songs, and as the album ends with 'Rytm to Niesmiertelnosc II', the clouds turn from a heavy grey to a uplifting palette of autumnal shades as a subtle rhythm emerges to gently guide the listener into lighter pastures. Despite the somewhat uplifting ending, as the last note strikes you may find yourself wanting to turn back into the darkness and start the whole adventure again. Wrap up warm, and carry enough supplies for many years of repeated listening...
on Friday, 12 March 2010
Line being a sister label to the marvelous and ever reliable 12k records to quote "has continued to publish documents of compositional and installation work by international sound artists and composers exploring the aesthetics of contemporary and digital minimalism as limited edition Compact Discs and DVDs."

To some 12k may be experimental in its own right, Line however takes it to the next level being specifically for ultra-minimal stuff and art installations. As such at times I've tended to keep a distance. For this release though nothing could be more instant to the ears of an appreciator of long swelling drones.


TU M’ are an Italian multimedia duo formed by Rossano Polidoro and Emiliano Romanelli in 1998. In their own words "Through a personal use of digital and analog instruments, the TU M' reveal a complex universe made up of present and past, closeness and distance, where seeing and listening become a meditative contemplation. " I couldn't agree more.

At times it veers towards the epic soundscapes of ambient dub master BvDub, allowing the pieces to flow and billow into an endless sea of tranquility. The only fault here would be Monochrome #04's length, straying into 29 minutes whereas twelve would quite happily have sufficed. The other three tracks however are exemplary both in length and content.

"A poet always has too many words in his vocabulary,
a painter too many colors on his palette,
a musician too many notes on his keyboard."
- Jean Cocteau

Tu' M - Monochrome # 03 - excerpt
Tu' M - Monochrome # 00 - excerpt

2008/2009 | Monochrome # 09+V06 | 20' | excerpt.mov
2008/2009 | Monochrome # 08+V03 | 30' | excerpt.mov
2008/2009 | Monochrome # 06+V05 | 20' | excerpt.mov

What Boomkat Said: This disc represents the auditory component of a mixed media project from Italian duo Tu M', who describe Monochromes as "a collection of modular audio and video compositions" which create sound and light vibrations that reverberate around the performance space, resulting in "an atmosphere to be contemplated". This being an audio-only CD, Tu M' have in a sense shifted the goalposts somewhat, and the only clue to the visual element you have is the album sleeve, which lifts a still image from the project. Having listened through the disc, it's actually pretty difficult to imagine how any sort of corresponding video might enhance the experience. These compact, finely worked pieces construct an enveloping ambience in their own right. 'Monochrome 01' immediately provokes comparisons to William Basinski with its looped, heavily enshrouded loops and ghostly piano gestures, but there's a more digital, less gritty feel to this album that sets it apart from that oft-copied sound. Next comes 'Monochrome 02' (unsurprisingly enough), which is far less concerned with constructing any explicit melodic presence, instead content to cast sonic shadows for twelve minutes or so - it's all characterised by a disconcerting intangibility, vaporous and strangely... absent in tone. More overtly musical is the shortest entry here, 'Monochrome 03', which unfurls chords that gently swell and fall away like a distant orchestra, only for the final piece to present a more solid block of sound, casting a veil of digital smudges over your ears for a hypnotic half-hour. Abstract and immersive listening from the reassuringly challenging Line stable.