Síria’s “Boa-Língua” reviewed by Musik an sich

Síria ist das Projekt der portugisischen Elektronik / Perkussionsmusikerin und Sängerin Diana Combo.

Boa-Lingua ist Ihr zweites Album nach dem 2016 erschienenen Debüt und ist eher zufällig entstanden, denn die Aufnahmen stammen von Übungen und Sessions, die nicht zwingend zu einem Album führen sollten.
Die Musik der Portugiesin ist ein dunkler elektronischer Soundscape. Drones drehen sich um sich selbst, wabernde Soundteppiche ziehen auf und eine melancholische Stimmung umkreist den Hörer. Allerdings arbeitet sie sehr akzentuiert. Hier ist nichts überladen, nein die Geräusche, Perkussionen und Sounds sind eher wie ein elektronischer Post Rock arrangiert. Die Stücke atmen alle sehr viel Luft, obwohl trotzdem am Ende ein dichter, den Hörer umspannender Sound entsteht.

Das liegt vermutlich an den ausgefeilten Arrangements der Stücke, die dem Hörer sehr viele Feinheiten zum Entdecken anbietet.

Gekrönt wird dieser spannende Sound durch den Gesang der Künstlerin. Dieser klingt sehr fremdartig, wird oft elektronisch verzerrt und unterliegt viel Hall und wirkt auf mich, der die Worte nicht verstehen kann, mehr wie ein zusätzliches Instrument. Das Timbre erinnert durchaus ein wenig an die große Lisa Gerrad die ebenso wie die fremdartigen Vocals durchaus auch an deren Band Dead Can Dance erinnert. 

Allerdings bewegen sich alle 9 Stücke im eher sakralen und düsteren Bereich, euphorische Klänge kommen hier nicht wirklich auf.

In Gesamtheit ist Boa-Língua eine sehr gelungene Kombination aus spannender (Post)Elektronik und fesselnder Gesangsarbeit. Musik wie Gesang zieht den Hörer, der sich auf diese Atmosphäre einlassen kann, tief in seinen Bann.

Eine solch ausgefallene Produktion erfordert natürlich auch eine ausgefallene Veröffentlichungsform. Entgegen dem Vinylboom hat man sich hier jedoch nicht für dieses Medium, sondern für das eigentlich längst vergessene Medium „Musikkassette“ entschieden. Das wird natürlich nicht zu einem Verkaufshit führen, aber dafür ist diese sensible und emotionale Musik sowieso nicht gemacht. Daher ist die wunderschön gemachte MC auf nur 100 Stück limitiert, für alle anderen Interessenten gibt es das Album als Download bei Bandcamp. Wolfgang Kabsch

via Musik an sich

Rutger Zuydervelt & Bruno Duplant’s “L’incertitude” reviewed by African Paper

Crónica veröffentlicht das erste gemeinsame Tape der Musiker und Komponisten Bruno Duplant und Rutger Zuydervelt (Machinefabriek). Das Album besteht aus zwei längeren Tracks, deren auf meist akustischen Instrumenten, zahlreichen Field Recordings und mehrfacher Bearbeitung basierende Sounds von einer trügerischen Scheinharmonie sind. 

“L’incertitude, is Bruno Duplant and Rutger Zuydervelt’s first album as a duo. It came together very naturally, as if they played together for years already. There were no long discussions or conceptual heavy-handedness, these two tracks of pure sound exploration in the most intuitive sense, just flowed from the remote collaboration and the back-and-forth swapping of materials and compositions. The core of the collaboration rested upon trusting each other’s capabilities and on the mutual appreciation for each others’ work. These two collage-like trips are loaded with suggestions of (otherworldly) spaces and places, but it’s the listener’s imagination that has to fill in the blanks.” (Crónica)

via African Paper

New release: Rutger Zuydervelt & Bruno Duplant’s “L’incertitude”

L’incertitude, is Bruno Duplant and Rutger Zuydervelt’s first album as a duo. It came together very naturally, as if they played together for years already. There were no long discussions or conceptual heavy-handedness, these two tracks of pure sound exploration in the most intuitive sense, just flowed from the remote collaboration and the back-and-forth swapping of materials and compositions. The core of the collaboration rested upon trusting each other’s capabilities and on the mutual appreciation for each others’ work. These two collage-like trips are loaded with suggestions of (otherworldly) spaces and places, but it’s the listener’s imagination that has to fill in the blanks.

Bruno Duplant is a prolific composer and a musician (organ, double bass, percussion, electronics, field recordings) living in the north of France. He has collaborated with many musicians around the globe and has also made solo works. His recordings have been published by various labels including Elsewhere, Another Timbre, Wandelweiser, Ftarri, B-Boim, Diafani, Notice Recordings, Suppedaneum, Unfathomless, Dinzu Artefacts, Aussenraum, Moving Furniture, Verz, Mappa, Hemisphäreの空虚, Falt, among others and his own label co-curated with Pedro Chambel, Rhizome.s.

For Duplant, composing and playing music is similar to imagining, creating, and sometimes decomposing new spaces/realities, and new entities. But it is also a reflection on memory, not the historic one, but memories of things, spaces, and moments. His music, strongly inspired by the writing of Francis Ponge, Gaston Bachelard, Antoine Volodine, among others, and some artists and musicians as John Cage, Luc Ferrari, Eliane Radigue, or Rolf Julius, is imbued with a sweet melancholy.

Rutger Zuydervelt (also known as Machinefabriek) combines elements of ambient, noise, minimalism, drone, field recordings and electro-acoustic experiments. The music can be heard as an attempt to create sonic environments for the listener to dwell in. Finding tension in texture, tone and timing, the result can be very minimalistic at first glance, but reveals its depth upon closer listening. The devil is in the details.

Zuydervelt was born in 1978 in Apeldoorn (The Netherlands) and now resides in Rotterdam. He started recording as Machinefabriek in 2004. Since then, Zuydervelt released a steady stream of music on labels such as Western Vinyl, Type, Important, 12K, Entr’acte, Miasmah, Consouling Sounds, Western Vinyl Eilean and Edition Wandelweiser. He also composed for dance performances and films, and collaborated with various artists, like Michel Banabila, Gareth Davis, Steven Hess, Sylvain Chauveau, Aaron Martin, Dirk Serries, Dead Neanderthals, and many more.

Tracklist:

  1. Le doute (23:30)
  2. L’espoir (22:50)

Rutger Zuydervelt & Bruno Duplant’s “L’incertitude” reviewed by Vital Weekly

Collaborations are another thing that is on Zuydervelt’s plate for many years; with Gareth Davies, Tim Catlin, Subterreanact, Anne Bakker, Chris Dooks and loads more (I thought for once not to mention the more famous ones). This was mostly as ‘Machinefabriek & …’ but maybe it’s wiser, if the other also doesn’t use a project name, to use the name Rutger Zuydervelt &, well Bruno Duplant in this case. After all the music I heard from Duplant, I still have very little idea what he does; that’s what I also noted when I reviewed his ‘Feu Danse’ release (Vital Weekly 1212′). Let’s say he is, just as Zuydervelt, a man who loves field recordings, electronics, instruments and processing. I assume this was done through an exchange of sound files for x-number of times, before arriving at the two twenty-some minute pieces here. Both pieces shamelessly show us, two men, who love their sounds, and whatever you can do to sculpt it into whatever you want. They elegantly move back and forth between high and low sounds, quiet and loud parts and clear field recordings and heavily obscured ones. The ego of either musician has disappeared from this and we have no longer an idea who does what here. And perhaps we don’t want to know either; it is not of great importance to see that Rutger did this, and Bruno was responsible for that, as what counts is the overall results, the interaction of them working together, and I am still assuming this was all done via long-distance exchange of files. I have no idea if there was a plan to follow a score, an idea, or if it was all just let’s toss a whole of sounds in the air and see what happens. I am hoping for the latter, as that’s how it sounds, free from concepts and let the flow go as it goes. That works very well here and it is almost enjoyable release. Seeing Zuydervelt have return visits with some of his previous collaborators, I hope that Duplant is among them. (FdW)

via Vital Weekly

Rutger Zuydervelt & Bruno Duplant’s “L’incertitude” reviewed by Fluid Radio

L’incertitude has spent life in two separate countries, but in spite of its long-distance discourse, it offers a natural, uninterrupted flow of sound. For Bruno Duplant and Rutger Zuydervelt, the collaborative process was smooth and intuitive – there were no lengthy discussions, and that has carved a creative outlet into the music, allowing it to be more expressive and loosened from the stresses and pressures of expectation.

The two tracks were fired through digital cables, streaming through to the other musician via European bandwidths and long distances. Although recorded remotely, L’incertitude is a connected, united album, and one with a strong bond. And because of mutual respect, the music is elevated, the distance appearing to be stronger than an album produced in one room, when everyone is together. It’s all about the artists gelling with one another. You can’t fake a musical bond; it’s either there or it isn’t. Mutual respect and appreciation makes all the difference, turning a collaboration into a special project.

Duplant is a composer, residing in Northern France, while Zuydervelt lives in Rotterdam. Perhaps the most important – essential, even – aspect of this collaboration, and what makes it a success, is the trust and friendship on display. Respect is a key element to the music, sticking like an adhesive to every sound, making it whole and complete. From emptiness, structures are built inside the music. Some of the swirling textures are minimal, at least to an extent, vibrating with a frisson of tension, but there’s a mass of emptiness within the music; like a huge sinkhole in the middle of the street.

From within, the music slowly revolves and gathers, constructing something from its inky depths, rising up with a dynamic burst. Scattered over its ground zero are murky field recordings which include a wailing baby and birdsong…but even these sounds are distant, coming from a portal or a gateway, instead of living in close proximity. Like a static-eaten police band picked up on an amplifier or a radio, it’s a secret bandwidth that has somehow crossed over, reaching with long fingers into the listener’s domain.

Spontaneous stabbing electronics are a feature of the second piece, which expands on its musical selection and seems bolder, more experimental. Multiple sounds were exchanged, but space has been preserved. There are rivulets for the listener to fall into, to interpret, and to become part of the creative process by way of their imagination, filling in the blanks, and the well-timed artefacts are fascinating to behold. James Catchpole

via Fluid Radio

Síria’s “Boa-Língua” reviewed by Silence and Sound

Le nouvel opus de Diana Combo alias Síria, prend racines dans des exercices vocaux dont l’intention de départ n’était pas d’en faire des morceaux, mais qui le sont devenus par la force des choses.

La volonté et l’inconscient font parfois faire des choses qui nous dépassent, il n’y a qu’à se laisser guider par ces forces intérieures qui nous entrainent vers des zones mystérieuses, dénuées de préméditation et de déterminisme.

Boa-Lingua ressemble à une oeuvre de comptines surgies de temps lointains, oubliés dans les profondeurs de nos histoires communes, chants voyageurs effaçant une partie de nos peurs pour les faire disparaitre dans des effluves de beauté éternelle.

Enrobée de percussions caressées, d’arrangements électroniques sensibles et de field recordings hantés, la voix de Síria se laisse porter par cet ensemble d’éléments énergétiques aux fluctuations hypnotiques, instants ancrés dans la pleine conscience et le dépouillement, l’essentialité et l’existentialisme, mantras oniriques habités d’histoire et d’humanité. Sublime. Roland Torres

via Silence and Sound

Síria’s “Boa-Língua” reviewed by Groove

Die Portugiesin Síria verwittert auf Boa-Língua (Crónica) ihre wunderschönen Gesangsstücke ebenfalls durch Rauschen und Feedback. Wo Craig noch hin und wieder ein Piano oder eine Akustikgitarre als harmonische Grundierung zulässt, vertraut Diana Combo fast ausschließlich der Kraft ihrer Stimme – und der Kraft der Nostalgie auf der Kippe in morbider Düsternis. Die eindeutige Melancholie der portugiesischen Volksmusik und die Klarheit der elektroakustischen Komposition sind hier suspendiert in jenseitige wie amorphe Stimmerfahrungen. Frank P. Eckert

via Groove

Síria’s “Boa-Língua” reviewed by Kathodik

Il secondo album della sperimentatrice portoghese Diana Combo (aka Síria / Eosin), amplia e sintetizza all’osso quanto di buono mostrato nel precedente “Cuspo” del 2018 (anche quello su Crónica e come questo, in limitata edizione su nastro, dunque, veloci…).
Vinili manipolati, field recordings, metalli trattati, l’inaspettato, stralci di canzoni trovate/cantate, tutto in scultoreo fermo immagine da azione performativa (ovvia e prevista dalla Combo, data la sua esperienza nel sound design e nell’installazione).
Avvolgenti sequenze di arcaico futuro/presente, a tratti raggelante, con le unghie conficcate nella memoria d’ognuno ad ogni latitudine.
T’interessano le spine e l’estasi? Sei servito.
T’interessa la sequenza sforzo del volo e libertà di ciò che poi segue? Sei servito.
T’interessa (come negli oltre dieci minuti di Danse Macabre), esser torto e gettato nell’angolo con le ossa rotte? Sei servito.
T’interessa la pietra, il ferro che sbatte, la canzone tradizionale d’ogni dove, il legno, lo spazio esterno e l’interno, voci d’altri prese/carezzate, lasciate sospese e poi gettate dove le parole si dimenticano delle parole? Sei servito.
Resta un vinile che gira e una vertigine/frequenza (Ay IÅŸiÄŸinda), poi una voce che canta, poi le stelle. Marco Carcasi

via Kathodik

Tamtam’s “A100” reviewed by Rimas e Batidas

Num momento singular na história moderna, as cidades esvaziaram-se de gente, o tráfego – aéreo, terrestre, marítimo – abrandou para níveis que não se registavam há décadas e, em consequência disso, entre variadíssimas recuperações ao nível ecológico, voltámos a ser confrontados com uma dimensão do silêncio há muito ausente dos grandes espaços urbanos. E este silêncio presente só torna mais real a névoa do ruído constante em que até recentemente vivíamos mergulhados nas grandes cidades. A100 é um estudo desse ruído, desse drone pulsante e constante, a partir de gravações de campo efectuadas na A100, estrada que rasga Berlim e que portanto tem com ela uma relação simbiótica através da sua massiva presença “física” e “política”: “ela gera um pulsar de vida citadina. Exerce uma influência sobre a identidade de Berlim enquanto símbolo de progresso, de auto-promoção e representação, enquanto é também um objecto de insulto, um elemento disruptivo e um espaço para arte”, referem as notas de lançamento. No seu terceiro registo para a portuguesa Crónica, a dupla TAMTAM – Sam Auinger (electrónica e gravações de campo) e Hannes Strobi (baixo eléctrico, contrabaixo e gravações de campo) –, com a ajuda daq voz de David Moss no tema “Standby”, apresenta um estudo sobre o ruído que a A100 injecta na consciência da cidade, usando as frequências geradas pelo tráfego, os ecos distantes de vozes, como fontes para uma manipulação que tende para abstracção. O álbum divide-se em quatro peças de diferentes fôlegos (4 minutos e 50 segundos para “Standby”, 10 minutos e meio para “Spectral”): arranca com uma peça de agreste ambientalismo gerado a partir de gravações de campo tratadas; prossegue com a peça em que David Moss adopta um tom quase William Burroughs para a sua discrição “spoken word” que sobrevoa uma peça algo “byrne-eno-esca”; mergulha-nos no centro da própria A100 num “espectral” campo harmónico de ruídos de tráfego e ecos de presença humana;  e termina, enfim, com um cruzamento entre o músculo techno e as texturas oferecidas pela A100 aos microfones da dupla no tema “Pulse” que acaba por ser um quase-hino para uma megalópole que se tornou a nova meca da mais ritmicamente vincada música electrónica. Tendo em conta este presente esvaziado dessa identidade sónica, A100 assume uma dimensão quase hauntológica, revelando o assombramento de um pulsar civilizacional que foi interrompido por um vírus tão disruptivo para os seres humanos quanto aparentemente benigno para a restante natureza. Já será possível gravar o som do crescimento de plantas nas bermas da A100? Rui Miguel Abreu

via Rimas e Batidas