blog.Crónica

Dopo trent’anni di pratica compositiva — a partire da THU20 sino alla pura ricerca sulle componenti struturalli del suono — passando attraverso varie esperienze a margine da co-editore di Vital Magazine e da fondatore della piattaforma web EARlabs.org, Jos Smolders negli ultimi anni ha applicato alla propria produzione artistica le pratiche Zen a cui si è gradatamente avvicinato nel tempo, cercando quindi di trovare il punto di equilibrio tra pensiero, gesto e sendo dell’esistenza. Le sei composizioni contenute in “Nowhere” sono giustapunto il frutto di questo approccio instintivo e spirituale alla creazione, pagine in cui alla sintesi modulare viene applicata la stessa stilizzata destualità con cui l’autore traccia gli ideogrammi rappresentati sulla copertina dell’album. Quasi si tratasse di riproporre la stessa meticolosità del calligrafo in un contesto del tutto diverso rispetto a quello della scrittura, Smolders procede per variazioni minime condensando in una serie di frammenti di materia elettronica la sua idea di volersi esprimere più attraverso la sottrazione che l’affermazione di sé. L’insieme trasmette quindi un’impressione di forte omogeneità ma talvolta risulta sin troppo radicale nella sua forma estremamente sintetica e controllata. (6/7) Massimiliano Busti

The modular synthesizer has always been a remarkable instrument: a huge panel of boxes with knobs and sliders, with components that can be replaced, converted and connected at will. I would imagine that playing such a machine is quite similar to steering a space ship, and that compulsive players of flight simulation games must have developed a great skill in operating this instrument. If I remember correctly Jos Smolders used to play these games with great zeal. That would explain his natural feeling for the modular synthesizer evidenced by his most recent album Nowhere. He toys around with various aspects of sound, as if they were pigments, and excessively flexible building materials. He kneads and paints, creates shifting shapes and colors. The album starts with irregular dry clicking sounds that bottom out and become evermore rosy-cheeked. And almost unnoticed they form melodic patterns that pop into your ears like constellations. Until the moment that Smolders covers them up with a softly pulsating whistle, and makes the clicks disappear with the masterly flick of a magician’s wrist, and an agitated voice calls out, tinny as if from a tannoy. That breaks off suddenly to be replaced by a criss-cross of glowing trails, a soft grating noise and tiny ticks that emerge on the left and right limits of your hearing range, while distorted dialog rises and subsides. In like manner each track on this album presents its own composite of shapes and colors, and sounds. A train arriving at a railway station in a cloud of hiss that has grown out of the wheeze of a panting, growling dog. A pack of slogging huskies, disappearing in a zooming tube. But also sublimated pastel sounds of an almost unbearable clarity, brushing basses. This is music of an abstract beauty, with entrancing movements and an apparently familiar vista every now and then. Rene van Peer