Christián Alvear
HERMIT – Ryoko
Akama
CANADA Caduc CA10 CD (2016)
Three more recent releases from Caduc, the
Vancouver-based label run by Mathieu Ruhlmann.
I’ll start with HERMIT – here,
immediately the listener is thrust into a world of uncertainty; it takes 22
seconds before the first note sounds. The
forty-nine minutes and forty seconds of music that follow is full of suspense,
anticipation, with a clear demonstration of restraint, resulting in the spare
and economical delivery typical of Christián Alvear. This is a beautiful acoustic guitar treatment
by Alvear of this Ryoko Akama piece. The
inner sleeve has very little production information, but it does feature some
text which I presume is all or part of Akama’s score for HERMIT – which is as follows:
“sound. Decay. Silence / Repeat one or two times / Short,
soft, / Long and almost inaudible”
Alvear is a master of extended technique and wrings as
many different sounds out of his Spanish flamenco-style guitar as he possibly
can. He also manages to convincingly
incorporate an electronic ingredient into the proceedings – this could be produced
by an e-bow device on the strings of his guitar. It is not clear if this realisation of HERMIT is constructed – by which I mean multi-tracked – or performed in one
take. It would come as no surprise to
hear that Alvear performed all this live in one go, such is his skill and imagination
as a player. Video material on his own
website provides plenty of evidence of his commitment to “…the premiere,
interpretation and recording of experimental and avant-garde music”, should you
care to check it out.
There is also a quote hidden on the back of a folded part
of the packaging, presumably from Ryoko Akama:
“what I miss most is somewhere between quiet and solitude
What I miss most is stillness”
This is a very, very quiet record due to its nature, and
it needs – I think – a quiet place to hear it, study it and contemplate it.
Santiago Astaburuaga
Grado de potencia
#1
CANADA Caduc CA15 CD (2016)
The translation of Grado
de potencia I found is “degree of power”.
Realised by a large ensemble of fourteen players, it is one forty-nine
minute piece which involves environmental recordings being played back, along with
the various instrumentation. The piece
was composed by Astaburuaga who also co-mixed the material with Augusto
Hernandez. It was recorded by Hernandez,
Alexander Bruck and Jordan Topiel Paul.
Bruck, a member of the Mexican National Symphony Orchestra who has
recently branched out into New Music, also plays viola on this recording. The other performers are Gudinni Cortina,
Rolando Hernandez, Enrique Maraver, Axel Muňoz, Alfredo Bojórquez,
Jacob Wick, Ramón del Buey, Darío Bernal, Maribel Suárez,
Jorge David Garcia, Aimée Theriot, Juan J. Garcia and Eva Coronado.
Grado de potencia
#1 has a rich and vibrant textural clarity.
There is a dead stop at the end of the first quarter circa 12-20 minutes
where the next sound is recorded conversation in a reverberant location. A nice juxtaposition. Circa 25 minutes there’s the sound of a dog
barking – it’s so incongruous, it made me laugh out loud. I’ve had conversations with friends recently about
large groups improvising and how it only works in the context of performing a
score which calls for improvisation? For
sure, there is a fair amount of recorded evidence of improvising orchestras
struggling under the sheer weight of numbers over the years, but here there’s a
lightness and fluidity despite the large number of musicians participating.
Christián Alvear has also produced a realisation of
another piece by Astaburuaga; Pieza de
Escucha. Video on his website. There
are a group of five harvestmen photographed on the rear of the sleeve, which
further endears this release to me even more.
I like harvestmen much more than spiders; so much more elegant, don’t
you think?
Mastered by Alan Jones at Laminal Audio. Santiago Astaburuaga has previous releases in
groupings including with Christian Alvear on Impulsive Habitat and Lengua de
Lava which on the strength of this, I am now going to search out.
Ryoko Akama / Christian
Alvear / Cyril Bondi / D’Incise
MADA – Taku
Sugimoto
CANADA Caduc CA16 CD (2016)
Made with the requisite care and attention by Akama and
Alvear - who have previous releases on the Caduc imprint; HERMIT – and Bondi
and D’Incise who are perhaps better known as the duo Diatribes. Here are two longish pieces and a short
“interlude” of silence in between. Sugimoto
is well-known as a guitarist with a singular approach to composition. Since 1988’s Mienai Tenshi or 1996’s Myshkin
Musicu, Taku Sugimoto has moved into writing scores. This is confirmed by the Improvised Music
From Japan website which states, “Currently
Sugimoto's interest focuses on composition and its performance, rather than
improvisation.” I first became aware
of Taku Sugimoto’s work when, while working at the Circulations multi-media event at Sussex University in the late 1990s, I witnessing a young man quietly abusing his
archtop Gibson jazz guitar in a profoundly un-jazz way. A colleague of mine then informed me that
this fellow was clearly a devotee of the Japanese minimalist.
Mada I features
a staccato guitar pluck as crisp as a footstep in fresh snow. Repeated clusters of activity. Nay,
flurries. Occasionally two or more
instruments settle on the same note.
Extensive use of pauses. This
piece is perhaps more animated and delicate.
Spread out. A piano note repeats.
Harp? The interlude is around
five minutes of silence and such a long duration is very effective. When the bassy drum/bell hits that start Mada II appear it is a genuinely
disturbing jolt. All the silence of the
interlude acts as a solid footing that anchors one piece to the other like
concrete. Mada II doesn’t even start straightaway. Sugimoto specifies extremes of pitch. It’s like the musicians are slowing down
time.
One early listen-through was while killing time in a
carpark in semi-rural Sussex, England.
Here’s a list of the things in the environment I heard while I was
listening to MADA in the order I
heard them:
The squeak of a hung metal shop sign blown softly by the
wind
Light traffic
The bass rumble of a large motorcycle’s V-twin engine
ticking over nearby
A tractor passing
The ever-present drone of aircraft
Church bells
A bus
Crows. Make of
that what you will.
MADA could be
seen as a culmination of Sugimoto’s previous solo
explorations/approach/practice. I’m
looking forward to the prospect of discovering more.
