Bruno Duplant’s “Sombres Miroirs” reviewed by The Sound Projector

Another splendid work by Bruno Duplant, one of my current personal favourites of enigmatic and sometimes minimal composition. His Sombres Miroirs (CRONICA 188-2022) is, by his standards, positively teeming with activity and events, and in this floating richness we can hear everything from backwards orchestras to uncertain cosmic gyrations – planets spinning or nebulae drifting into the distance. Profound, too, are the thoughts of the composer himself who conceived and executed this fascinating suite in two parts; he muses, not without some melancholy, on such deep matters as nature, humanity, civilisation, and the fate of the planet. What perceptions does he come away with? “Dark in my eyes and embittered in my heart,” comes the stern reply. The overall effect of the composition isn’t intended to induce unhappiness, however, and he takes things as a cosmic cycle where “hope and despair [move] in ever-recurring successions”. More than once, these “dark mirrors” put me in mind of my beloved Ligeti, showing Duplant can successfully deliver the micro-tonal thing without straying into ambient gloop or soppy drone. I wonder if it really is orchestrated, or made with tapes and keyboards? Either way, a beautiful work for gazing into the abyss at the heart of everything. Glory be! (13/07/2022) Ed Pinsent

via The Sound Projector