New release: Miguel A. García & Coeval’s “Huncill”

Noise has a mutant nature and harbors poetic correspondences; it is polysemy that demands its translation from the listener. Concepts only make sense through their opposites; thus, noise means everything and means nothing.

Miguel A. García (M.A.G., aka xedh), a practitioner of the alchemy of noise for twenty-five years, offers us on this occasion a pantheistic theme: closer than ever to nature, its rhythms and cycles. A communion with the vital processes. M.A.G.’s sonorous arts have never been as telluric as on this occasion.

Starting from the field recordings captured by the also sound artist Juan Carlos Blancas (aka Coeval), the electroacoustic manipulations of M.A.G. have found a host where they can settle, grow and develop autonomously, adjusting to their own cycles. The theme opens the doors to an ecosystem of sounds in wild development; an alternative world to ours, as distant as it is close.

Rather, in a sinister equidistance: like those portraits of loved ones that due to slight changes become so disturbing. Here we are shown a strange world in a fleeting photograph, an instant of barely two days in a limited location. A fragment that suggests to us the enormity of that sonorous world that throbs full of lives alien to ours. The abrupt end of the theme closes the doors of this world that continues to sound, in constant change, immutable to our fleeting presence.

In spite of the musical turn that in appearance supposes this theme, in an attentive listening, it continues beating that evolution and organization of the sonorous masses so idiosyncratic of the Basque author. In this case, as if Walt Whitman were praising in his verses the hidden worlds imagined (or not) by Arthur Manchen or Lord Dunsany. There is a coupling between Nature and Machine: it is not known whether electronics becomes nature or it is nature that becomes electronics.

“Huncill” is now available as a download or stream!

Roel Meelkop’s “Viva in Pace” reviewed by Musique Machine

Hailing from the Netherlands, Roel Meelkop is a prolific sound artist, whose musical venture began in the 80s with THU20, a project in the realms of electronic/experimental music. Moreover, he has worked with artists like Kapotte Muziek, Frans de Waard, Howard Stelzer, Detlev Hjuler & Andrea Göthling (Kommissar Hjuler Und Frau), Wieman and Pierdrie among others.

He has a larger discography, and Viva In Pace is his thirty-second full-length album. Conceptually it is based on the work and themes of the American abstract painter Ad Rheinhardt (1913-1967), and in particular “No War” which was his protest against the Vietnam War- Rheinhardt had sent a postcard to the War Chief of the United States in 1967, filled a list of negative orders, some specific to Vietnam war (“no napalm,” “no credibility gap”), others applying to any armed conflict (“no bombing,” no draft,” “no escalation”) and furthermore, commands of a general ethical or moral sort (“no poverty,” “no injustice,” “no evil”).

Viva In Pace is about the question of the inevitability of things, the probable futility of activist (and not only) art or what could happen when one has reached a fundamental life goal. Philosophically the album wonders about that pivotal existential question we all face at some time in our lives; the possible vainness in what we do and what will be done once that vainness is observed.

The album is largely synth-based, more or less minimal music, embracing the likes of Charlemagne Palestine (Negative Sound Study) or Jean-Jacques Perrey (Prélude Au Sommeil). Though there are chunks of kraut rock, as well as vintage and contemporary electronics- either going, back to the roots or a kick to the future electronic music, monolithic but complicated in its form, haunting and somewhat uplifting, stepping elegantly in a classic aural terra. “Viva In Pace” is floating between structural composition and abstract sound art. Slow-paced, simplistic yet narrative, soft but with quite a few harsh outbursts, sophisticated atmosphere and at times it is easily transcending into low profile ambient. Some cinematic amendments are evident and present and this synth experiment is circulating its beauty all over.

This is an ode to synth craftsmanship (Meelkop is heavily experimenting with modular synths) and it is also an album that seems sonically polarized, as the questions inflicting upon it!. Karl Grümpe

via Musique Machine

Roel Meelkop’s “Viva in Pace” reviewed by Touching Extremes

Regarding the role that art could have in preventing wars, Roel Meelkop openly admits his inner doubts, leaning more toward the pessimistic end of things. Without getting into overly skeptical specifics, let me just say that I agree, especially in light of the manufactured and staged conflicts that are so characteristic of today, invariably waged at the expense of the less privileged classes and “reported” by sources wholly beholden to the ruling powers, distorting reality and erasing official history (about which your reviewer already has severe reservations, given the inborn corruptibility of the average human). Working on intuition and perception is the only method to defend oneself, and sound waves are definitely the best mind-strengthening tool for this; Meelkop offers helpful assistance in this area.

The four movements of Viva In Pace (Italian for “may he/she live in peace”) travel through variable acousmatic spectrums with a combination of intimate familiarity with the audio material, willingness to let it choose its own emotional course, and – in a sense – silent acceptance of the outcome, whatever it may be, by the very composer. Meelkop forces the listener to pay close attention to each event, and connect the details in such a way that they form a consistent totality in one’s perceptual equipment. After initially subjecting us to rather acrid synthetic emanations, he achieves the goal by skillfully juxtaposing sonic milieus ranging from concrete/environmental to remotely wavering in nowhere, thriving in spaces that are now largely reverberant, now almost occluding. The impression of a parallel, and not exactly reassuring (im)materiality is continually present amid somewhat droning atmospheres, charged-then-abruptly-interrupted silences, and ungovernable outflows. It is more beneficial to make an effort to understand it than to keep yelling and raising fists at an invisible foe. (Massimo Ricci)

via Touching Extremes

Luca Forcucci’s “Terra” reviewed by Music Map

Terra, uscito per la label portoghese Crónica, è un’opera multiforme e ambiziosa per violoncello, percussioni e componenti elettroniche che partendo da frammenti sonici di territori registrati in loco e riorganizzati all’interno dei cinque atti presenti nel disco rappresenta una finestra paradigmatica sull’idea di musica che ha Luca Forcucci.

Con Terra Luca Forcucci, da sempre interessato a esplorare tutte le possibilità che la musica elettronica e le installazioni sonore e visive possono offrire in relazione ai territori e a ciò che li riguarda, dalla frammentazione dei confini geografici alla continuità e discontinuità degli ecosistemi, dall’urbanizzazione alla decentralizzazione, provando a decontestualizzare e ad allontanare la visione umana di essi, cercando di offrire un punto di vista terzo, super partes.

È chiaro dunque che con queste premesse il viaggio sabbioso e faticoso dei trentacinque minuti di Terra si fonda per sua stessa natura su un equilibrio precario che prova a tenere insieme sperimentazione e tradizione. Si veda la cupa e tempestosa “Incognita”, avanguardia cupa e tempestosa, che prova a farsi strada in un bosco inquietante tra trappole e paludi e che guarda al passato pur decostruendo ritmica e melodia. Non di diversa impostazione è la breve “Cantus”, che pure è leggiadra ed elegante nel suo discostarsi solo apparentemente dalle desolazioni paesaggistiche del resto del disco.

Una desolazione che, però, non è priva di un certo grado di speranza e di resilienza. Nel tentativo di far parlare il territorio e le sue infinite e splendide contraddizioni Forcucci, come si diceva, ha tra i suoi scopi principali quello di fare un passo indietro come essere umano e di narrare e di descrivere qualcosa che esiste al di là di lui che non è mai altro da lui. Niente gli è estraneo, com’è naturale che sia, eppure una certa incommensurabilità tra uomo qua e là traspare. Si materializza soprattutto in pezzi titanici come la conclusiva “Firmus”, ipnotica e dallo spirito selvaggio e incandescente, o nella solitudine intergalattica di “Obscura” e di “Terra”, così oniriche e al tempo stesso così materiali e sanguigne. In Terral’animo può talvolta spaventarsi e spaurarsi, ma quello stesso senso di sublime che atterrisce lo spirito è subito pronto a rianimarlo e a rincuorarlo, cosa che anche Forcucci sembra suggerirci. (Samuele Conficoni)

via Music Map

New release: Roel Meelkop’s “Viva in Pace”

In 1967 American abstract painter Ad Rheinhardt wrote a standard-issue postcard to the “War Chief” of the United States. On the postcard he had written a list of negations, such as “no napalm”, “no bombing”, “no injustice” and “no art in war”, “no art as war”, “no art about war”. In retrospect, this has become quite a contradiction, since the postcard itself is now considered to be an artwork. The negations leave no room for ambiguity, but the card itself creates the opposite of its intended content. I have a similar feeling towards activist art. I can see its purpose and will support this, yet cannot find myself producing work with such clear definitions. Still, when asked by Attenuation Circuit’s Sascha Stadlmeier in the beginning of 2022 to contribute to the ever growing music compilation Stop all Wars, I agreed. The track I created was pretty fierce and contained some of the fury I felt at that time towards war. It also made me think about the probable futility of doing something like this and I felt quite powerless. Still, this mixed bag of emotions and thoughts urged me to continue with the work, leading to this piece, divided in four parts. While working on it I felt a certain hopelessness about its initial purpose, which directed me to Rheinhardt’s work.

I’ve always had an ambivalent relation to Reinhardt’s work. His self proclaimed end-of-painting works were a painful step in the progression of the avant-garde, because they surmised nothing could follow this last step, except maybe repetition (although Rheinhardt himself was convinced that his paintings might look alike, but were certainly different from each other). The radicality of this thought highly appeals to me and at the same time highly demotivates me. Reinhardt’s thinking was only following its own internal logic. His development as a painter forced him there and he clearly embraced it. This kind of thinking appeals to me because it directs towards a clear and finite goal, to be achieved by meticulously executing one step after another. The end is visible on the horizon. At the same time it scares the living daylights out of me: what when we’ve reached this goal? Will we stop doing everything we love because we’re there? Will we just lay down and stop creating for the rest of our lives? I really wouldn’t know. Rheinhardt’s concept of negation leads to the purest form of art in his view, whereas I have taken many detours in my work and diversions in my thinking, steps leading away from the goal in sight. Some of them were silly and should be avoided in the future, but most are giving me comfort, enabling me to keep on working with sound. Total negation does not seem to be my favoured route. Am I failing a higher goal in doing so? I don’t think so, but I nevertheless cherish Reinhardt’s paintings.

Will this work of mine end wars? Of course not. It will not even contribute seriously to stopping them or supporting those that suffer from them. This work is the result of my personal frustration, my inability to have direct influence on the course of global events, other than being able to vote for some people that possibly do. That’s some relief, at last. But not a lot. So you may detect rage and despair in these tracks, but also hope and possibly a goal on the horizon: my determination to keep doing this, no matter what. So maybe that’s where Rheinhardt and I meet, somewhere in the middle, as usual. 

Many thanks to Ad Rheinhardt for his controversial, but ongoing inspiration. Thanks to Sascha Stadlmeier and Miguel Carvalhais for their ongoing work and support.

Roel Meelkop, Rotterdam, 2022

“Viva in Pace” is now available as a limited-release CD or as a download or stream.

Morten Riis’s “Lad enhver lyd minde os om” reviewed by Neural

This is the first solo release from sound artist Morten Riis, since 2009’s Digital Sound Drawings, a project that focused on the visual waveforms of songs, featuring six songs that were composed by converting a series of images into audio. Riis continues this conceptual engagement that questions how, in an era of ready-to-use software, a composer can produce music in a way that is attentive to the specificity of the media used. Riis relies on homemade synthesizers and modified 4-track cassette recorders. In doing so, it is possible to observe how engaged he is with the contemporary and inescapable relationship between sound creation and technology. The Danish artist modifies and experiments with instruments and the recording process, resulting in a complex work in which different melodic structures are superimposed on each other to create new sounds, noises and textures. This release is accompanied by Lad den samme lyd minde os om (Let every sound remind us of), 25 unique loop cassette tapes handmade by Riis which contain the original material of the compositions. This project is endowed with a sense of loss, a perception that is unconventional but with which we unconsciously develop a strong sense of familiarity. Even within the deconstruction of the work, emotionality does not lose its charge and is full of a yearning nostalgia, of forgotten narratives and existential metaphors. By forcing the mind to think outside the box of musical conventions, the artist undertakes a sort of journey through time and lets ‘every sound remind us of it’, bringing back a sense of excitement through the now obsolete and almost useless tapes. The overall result is very impressive – comforting us with what can be created with redundant media forms. Aurelio Cianciotta

via Neural

@c + Drumming GP‘s “For Percussion” reviewed by Westzeit

Mit DRUMMING GP haben wir noch ein Ensemble aus Musikern, die sich für Neue Klänge und Improvisatorische Elemente interessieren, hier allerdings auf perkussiver Grundlage. “For Percussion” (Crónica) heißt denn auch die CD mit Stücken der Crónica-Gründer Pedro Tudela & Miguel Carvalhais. Die beiden konstruieren schon seit vielen Jahren avancierte Musik unter dem kryptischen ProjektKürzel @C, hier sinnieren sie intensiv über die Abhängigkeiten von Computermusik, Elektronik und Perkussion. Mein Favorit ist das knisternde Stück “58 – for two marimbas & two computers” (bitte fragt mich nicht, was zwei Computer können, das nicht auch einer schafft, aber vermutlich geht es um die performative Anordnung), aber auch die übrigen Nummern bilden hochinteressante KlangVersuche ab. 5

via Westzeit