Jamie Drouin & Lance Austin Olsen - a field far beyond form and emptiness

 

Jamie Drouin & Lance Austin Olsen - a field far beyond form and emptiness

Infrequency Editions 2026

Deliberation, intention and wonder.  Kettles, contrabass, piano and crushed papers, among other things, jockey for supremacy in this fascinating construction by Messrs Drouin and Olsen.  Both veteran noisemakers, both artists; Drouin a designer, lance Austin Olsen a painter - the rich palette on offer here shows both at the peak of their endeavours.  There is detail, as you might expect, in this solid 40 minute piece, but also plenty of surprises along the way.  Drones are used quietly to underscore particular passages or sonic events, but I get a sense of propulsion rather than ennui.  These drones are harmonically rich, despite their fleeting presence.  Silence - also as you might expect - fulfils a structural purpose, but the chunks of airy existence that are cut away are not overlong, as is sometimes the case with perhaps certain adherents of Wandelweiser principles, more bookmarking; turning the corner of the page over so that the listener can mentally refer back should they need to.  The recording itself is pristine; elements are close-mic'ed and yet enough space is left so that you can still hear the room.

''...shortages have been fueled by US sanctions...'', a brief burst of humanity at 20 minutes; a female newsreader's voice cuts through with gale force.  Drumskins are rubbed, strings drubbed, a wooden object falls over on a desktop.  A pair of prepared piano notes hang in the air momentarily.  A drum skin activated into a bass sinetone disappears into the distance.  Breath becomes heavy as if readying for sleep.  More vocalising at 29 minutes, but this time male and incomprehensible.  A beautiful mid-high drone, possibly electronic in origin, then a single drop of 1980s digital reverb activated by unseen forces.  A hammer-tap positioned deep within a piano sound-box.  Adhesive tape is removed from an unseen surface as a door squeaks open in another part of the building.  The disparate events start to come quicker now with a wooden, reedy ambience - put the drum down; the sun starts to push through my curtain and I must reluctantly leave...