Why Tangram? Why this
title? I shall let the author explain. I myself find nothing
angular—nothing even remotely geometrical—in this eponymous piece
which relies not on the combination of forms, or of figures (everyone knows
the Chinese puzzle), but rather on fusion, on a quasi-mystic surcharge of
materialism: rich rugged sonorities like a switch of horse hair; from this
the sound is curried so that we might delight in its lustrous sheen,
immersing us in its panic plenitude (dionysian, first and foremost), its
mysterious bubblings and brewings…
(The incredibly dense material, at times ripped by the roar of a train on
the track, by trumpeting or spurts, white rocketing noises: this dynamic is
essential, these ‘true stories’ are necessary to pierce these
hypnoses of matter, at times magnified, abstract because of their very
concreteness.)
Another principle which structures, coalesces the work: an assuring
mechanical roundness encircles this (metaphysical) disorder, like a non-stop
antidote, counteracting the natural entropy with a repetitious serenity
(which takes on a particular flavor in Normandeau’s
work): the elemental is revised, tamed by the rumble of the clockwork of the
loops and by studio manipulations. So well that this music of Elements (frog
croaks, night birds, a storm) is at the same time the music of rotating
machines and of motors; the sounds of nature, rolled into a ball, are
squeezed together with industrial force: the two poetics are mixed,
indissoluble, in the dances.
Each in their own way, the other pieces on the disc reflect this personal
manner, (and in the variations appears the pertinence of the generic title
Tangram): In
Tropes the art of
transition-escape is polished to perfection—we are cramped, crushed
under the strata, the excrescence—when just the moment before we found
ourselves in a limpidity so complete (as to recall Mozart…). Bédé, more astringent (despite
several vertiginous distortions of convex mirrors—calling to mind
Alice…) ushers in Éclats de voix, the
most elaborate piece, the most nimble, the richest because, despite the
prevalence of fusion, it unites the two principles—(specious
plasticity—thousands of pieces ground and glued), it is interrupted by
a fantastic machinery, the widest variety in its semantics, and the rare
rough spots—so charming—living, vocal bones of
childhood…
Taken from the title of one of the works appearing on the disc, Tangram represents
the almost infinite permutations which lie hidden in elements as sparse and
simple as the voice of a child, the sound of a passing train, or a few notes
of classical music. Though highly contrasted, the pieces presented on this
disc exhibit several common denominators.
Firstly, they all utilize, without exception, sampled acoustic sounds;
these were recorded for the most part using a portable DAT recorder.
Secondly, the entire cycle was conceived for multitrack presentation. The
methods devised in the studio permit the playback of each track (recorded on
16-track, 1/2 inch, Dolby S) on a separate loudspeaker, without having to
retouch the levels or the equalizations. Mixing, therefore, is accomplished
acoustically and not electronically. The spatialization of the sounds in an
integral part of the composition, and thusly the performance space serves to
delineate the sonorous parameters as well as the height, the length, and the
intensity.
Thirdly, as an extension to the second point, to capture this added
dimension of space evoked by a multitrack playback. Jean-François
Denis and I had the idea to simulate a concert setting in the recording
studio, and the final stereophonic version of each piece (but Spleen, composed afterwards)
was produced at The Banff Centre for the Arts (engineers: Antonio Oliart and
Stephanie Rogers ;
assistant: Jennifer Lewis )
using multiple loudspeakers.
Last but not least, the works represent the quintessence of my work during
1990-93, and exemplify the perspective which I’d embraced during that
period: cinema for the ear. Basically, this consists of seeking inspiration
outside of the musical context, specially in the work of cinema. Themes are
inspired directly from the titles; once elaborated, they then underlie the
work, becoming axes around which the composition takes shape. They serve as
landmarks for the listener exploring these unheard-of spaces.