“Colonne di fumo” in Fluid Radio

There are essentially only two types of drone music – the dreamy, and the dissonant. Dreamy drones are occupying the likes of Hammock; dissonance colludes to dark ambient producers including Thomas Koner and Netherworld. Glacial fragments unite the two styles, and “Colonne Di Fumo” by Federico Mosconi is a definite highlight in the catalogue of dreamy drone sound art.

Beginning with effected layers like the very Stars Of The Lid “Il Tempo Regalato”, unhurried melodies suspend and never sink. The kitchen sink is not put in, and space is an important thing. Gravity in space is everlasting, and for Mosconi this becomes centrally projecting of the narrative of his album. Speaking for the narrative, most melodic tones find their home with augmented d chords and suspended c with a little adherence to background a counterpoint; I am talking of the notes on the chromatic scale and how they fit in.

In a world where fitting in and not saying the wrong thing becomes a truth and utmost lie to reality, “Colonne Di Fumo” is never a nagging nimbus cloud to rain on anyone’s parade. In any language, it is delightfully peaceful, dreamy and consistent with a continuity towards mixing light field recordings with light melodic portent. There are actually not that many albums like this being released any more that see professional labels, partially because the music can be seen as inconclusive, insipid and unfinished. In stark contrast, Federico Mosconi makes a defiant statement on the excellent KrysaliSound imprint with “Colonne Di Fumo”, a release where I found, for myself at least, what’s at stake between dreams and dissonance. Buy it!

Fluid Radio Link

Also published on Mick Buckingam’s blog: http://subvertcentral.blogspot.co.uk/

“Colonne di fumo” in Merchants Of Air

Today is a beautiful day. It’s so beautiful that I’m not even angry at Jehovah’s Witnesses for waking me up so early in the morning. Normally, if those people ring my doorbell at that hour, I just start throwing black metal cds at their faces but not today. Today, all is calm. The sun is shining. The coffee is good. Plus, I am listening to an equally beautiful album, courtesy of Italian producer Federico Mosconi and sent to me by KrysaliSound, who by now are synonymous with “quality”.Yet, writing reviews about ambient albums is never an easy task. I can start writing to musical landscapes, ever changing figures in smoke, nighttime walks through endless forests and amorphic audio structures. All those comparisons would be correct and I can easily compare this music to acts like Biosphere, Tim Hecker or Fennesz. But still, this album is way too good to throw some review-clichés at it.

There are eight tracks on this album, with the first two already being brilliant highlights. Federico Mosconi creates music where ambient and noise perfectly seem to coexist. There is a certain darkness in the music, represented by deep drones and haunting soundscapes. ‘La Fabbrica del Vapore’ becomes a bit more noisy, harsher and even somewhat obtrusive while follower ‘L’Immagine riflessa’ is friendlier, gentle even, at least for a while

That way, the album calmly floats on, filling the entire room with these soundscapes. The tracks are somewhat alike, which is quite normal in this genre, but also come up with the right amount of variation. Federico Mosconi explores vintage ambient music, blends it with today’s droning sounds and eerie loops, turning the whole thing into one narrative adventure. One you surely don’t want to miss if you are an ambient fan.

So obviously, this one comes highly recommended to all you ambient and drone fans out there. Like many times before, KrysaliSound comes up with a high quality and quite versatile album. I’m not going to describe all the tracks but I can assure you that you will like each and every one of them, from the most minimal one to the massive bombast in some of the ones I mentioned earlier. 

​Serge

Link

“Colonne di fumo” in Music won’t save you

Poche espressioni possono offrire un’immagine di materialità al tempo stesso densa e impalpabile come quella scelta da Federico Mosconi per identificare il suo secondo lavoro, a tre anni di distanza dal debutto “Acquatinta”.

Lavorando sugli elementi più introspettivi delle sue manipolazioni sonore, in “Colonne di fumo” l’artista veneto condensa otto diverse prospettive di un paesaggismo ambientale variamente declinato, inscritto in un perimetro delimitato dalle placide risonanze del “Notturno” d’apertura e dal romanticismo flebilmente dissonante dei conclusivi “Detriti”.
Al centro del percorso di ascolto e scoperta di oltre cinquanta minuti descritto dal lavoro, affiorano altresì cattedrali saturi retaggi post-industriali (“La fabbrica del vapore”) e nebbie popolate da frequenze evanescenti (“Nel bosco ascolto i pensieri”), presenti come ricordi in dissolvenza, al pari di echi distorti che creano maestose cattedrali sonore (“La voce di un ricordo che si allontana”).

Al di là della loro consistenza variabile, comune denominatore delle “Colonne di fumo” dell’artista veneto si rivela l’incessante moto particellare, allegato a una declinazione ambient-drone dai pervasivi caratteri cinematici, le cui dense rarefazioni si dileguano verso l’infinito.

Link

“He remembers there were gardens” in Ondarock

Dopo il sorprendente Lp “Vaev” del 2016, che aveva lasciato il segno per la sua semplicità e per i delicatissimi flussi ipnotico-psichedelici, il musicista danese Paw Grabowski – alias Ojerum – torna, grazie all’etichetta italiana Krysalisound capitanata da Francis M. Gri, con un nuovo lavoro che era già stato registrato nel 2013 ma che solo adesso viene distribuito.

Grabowski decide di creare una colonna sonora ideale del cortometraggio fotografico francese “La Jetée” del 1962, esempio di cinema sperimentale che sta a metà tra fantascienza, poesia e psicologia, segnato dalla vivissima paura – tipica dell’epoca – di un conflitto atomico. La musica scarna e ripetitiva di Grabowski si adatta bene al racconto psicologico del regista Chris Marker. È una semplicità persino superiore a “Vaev“; un unico brano di quasi trenta minuti caratterizzato da continui, ma sempre uguali a se stessi, impulsi che variano di forza e intensità.

Le variazioni sempre costanti simulano una sorta di respiro, dato dall’incedere dell’organo, vitale ma stanco e affannato; un cullarsi continuo all’interno della tragica ambientazione post-atomica del film, un navigare con la mente tra ceneri e piogge radioattive, sospesi in un limbo a metà tra la fine immanente dell’umanità e i ricordi ancora vividi di una vita felice e di luoghi nei quali, come si evince dal titolo, una volta erano presenti giardini.

Ma nonostante le premesse “He Remembers There Were Gardens” rimane un piccolo e meritevole esperimento elettroacustico, in parte penalizzato dall’eccessiva ripetitività e dalla lunghezza legata al film più che a effettive variazioni sonore. Tra i meriti di Grabowski non è comunque indifferente la riscoperta di pagine poco note del cinema sperimentale europeo, in particolare quelle pellicole post-atomiche troppo spesso relegate nel cinema di genere.

Link

“He remembers there were gardens” in Stationary Travels

Originally released on cassette in 2013, Italian label KrysaliSound has remastered and reissued a mesmerizing long form composition by Danish collage artist & musician Paw Grabowski under his artistic pseudonym of øjeRum. An undulating, hypnagogic organ-based drone, He remembers there were gardens was conceived as an alternate soundtrack to the 1962 “photo-roman” (photo-novel) La Jetée by Chris Marker which is still recognized as a unique and highly influential experimental cinematic work

The film, presented in a series of stills, paints a dystopian vision of post-apocalyptic Paris where survivors live underground below the galleries of the Palais de Chaillot. Its protagonist is a man who is held captive and forced to travel time in a quest to find a source of energy to regenerate a decimated society. The man is chosen because of the power of his obsession with the past, specifically the allure of a fragmented, pre-war memory of a woman on the observation platform (“the jetty”) at Orly Airport and a tragic incident that occurs there which becomes the focal point of the story’s haunting denouement.

“Those familiar with the film with have no difficulty in recalling the flashes of a destroyed world, the status of the museum, and the moment on the platform. Even if you haven’t seen the film, the breathing of Grabowski’s organ will conjure similar images and moments. It fluctuates between the drifts and falls and the throb and hum of a person lost in time and place.” – KrysaliSound

Just as the liner notes suggest, as one who was previously unfamiliar with the film I was drawn in solely by the rich organ tones, repetitive patterns, and plaintive melancholy of the piece which, through music alone, suggests a poignant and compelling narrative. Ponder the existential weight of the story and it becomes more poignant still. Then, of course, one may watch the film for an entirely different experience, especially as contrasted with the melodramatic approach of the original score. Given its unique inspiration, thoughtful construction and the various ways it can be experienced, Grabowski has created a truly fascinating ambient journey that is well deserving of such a beautifully presented reissue.

 


He remembers there were gardens is available from KrysaliSound in a limited CD edition with handmade packaging and album cover in Polaroid format as well as a digital version that can be ordered from the label or directly from the artists.  For those interested in learning more about La Jetée, follow the ‘About the film’ link below to more information via The Criterion Collection. I also highly recommend reading an absorbing in-depth analysis by Guardian film critic Jonathan Romney which can be found here

“Untitled_TeVeT” and “He remembers there were gardens” in Merchants of air

Untitled_TeVeT – Link

Experiments with sound have been my favorite activities since I discovered that tapping on my baby chair created music. During my searches through the bizarre world of sound art, I’ve been listening to printers, hard drives my mom’s old washing machine, birds, train engines, metallic sounding conversations and whatnot. However, even I never thought that one day I will be listening to an ice cube for an hour. A 380 kg weighing ice cube that is.

Yes, this album by Italian experimentalist and musique concrete  composer Federico Dal Pozzo is an acousmatic composition, generated from the freezing sounds of a 380kg ice cube. So if you expected drums, synths, guitars and other traditional instruments, you might want to rethink your vision about music. Apart from being strange and unusual, this hour long composition is adventurous, almost alive.

Musically, this album fits in perfectly with your weirdest ambient and musique concrete albums, but it also fits in with regular ambient and all things soundscapes related. It constantly evolves, becomes loud, intense, overwhelming but also cold, isolated and alienating. It not only show the freezing ice cube but also beautifully blends in with the sounds of your surroundings, making this kind of music a part of everyday life. So yes, this one comes highly recommended.

He remembers there were gardens – Link

øjeRum is the experimental music project from Danish visual artist Paw Grabowski. This album is an alternative soundtrack to Chris Marker’s travel film ‘La Jetée’. Personally, I don’t know that film and I’m not sure that you do, so we will just focus on the music. That is not an easy job by the way, because there is not that much happening on this album. It contains one track, which moves, throbs and breathes for almost thirty minutes before leaving you behind on an apocalyptic wasteland.

That ain’t bad either, on the very contrary. Minimal music has always been a favorite here and the gentle organ sounds of øjeRum surely deserve a place in my elaborate ambient collection. What Aidan Baker can do with guitars, Paw Grabowski can do with an organ, that is basically what I am trying to say here. Obviously this comes highly recommended for all fans of ambient music. It was originally released in 2015 and now mastered by Francis M. Gri, another interesting name in this scene. So yes, you have to buy this record, now.

“He remembers there were gardens” in Beach Sloth

Angelic tones grace øjeRum’s elegant “He remembers there were gardens”. Throughout the singular serene piece the way the sound is sculpted gives it a symphonic feeling. Indeed, it is by imposing this classical structure onto glistening electronics that the work becomes quite emotionally resonant. Evolution feels naturalistic with an adherence upon a carefully built up, gradually shifting series of lovely drones. By choosing such a path the piece emerges as becoming deeply beautiful as it explores the smallest facets of sound. Without saying a single word narrative forms, that feels at times yearning, wistful, and nostalgic. Melodies are aching in terms of their careful balance.

Hushed sweeps of sound introduce the piece. For a while øjeRum chooses to simply explore the spacious of the sound. Slowly but surely øjeRum incorporates an ever-growing series of layers that help to fully flesh out the sound, at times even referencing drone music. Upon reaching something of a fevered pitch about five minutes in the piece suddenly returns to its initial quieter pastures. Around the eleven-minute mark øjeRum even touches upon the ambient bliss of early Warp Record releases, only with the ambience extended off into the infinite. Gradually øjeRum strips the sound down to the absolute essentials as the sound appears to nearly evaporate into the distance about halfway through the piece. For a moment a woozy, yearning melody emerges out of the near-silence to fill the void. Easily the best part of the piece it represents a struggle of sorts. Towards the finale all has been resolved with the song slowly melting away.

“He remembers there were gardens” shows off the impeccable pacing and arrangement work of øjeRum.