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Reviewpar Grant Chu Covell in La Folia (ÉU), 1 avril 2001 |386_502| Presence II is a 2CD anthology of 34 works from 32 composers from 11 countries. The diversity is overwhelming and it’s hard to single out individual works. They’re all arranged alphabetically . Where to start? Bradley’s ”volalle melodie vi to trot” or ”fowl melody to trot” is very, very disturbing: under or over a text that seems to be foreign language instruction we hear parents of young children at their wits end. Fitzell’s Zipper Music II (an earlier version is on DISContact! II below) is a nifty exploration of the sounds a zipper can make. McIntosh’s Climb to Camp One is built from the sounds of climbing equipment being used inside an amplified piano but it doesn’t recall ostensibly similar works by Cowell or Cage. I’m partial to the 3 short works by Joachim (the oldest works in the set) which explore the filtering of computer generated sounds. Solursh’s We extracts some neat noises out of water, while Teller’s H a e i o u y æ ø å pt. 2 (ex.) gets mileage from laughter. Of course I like the seemingly random collage effects of Trudel’s Ce n’est pas ici and am wonderfully at a loss to explain what the crowd noise, fire, marching band and nature noises are all about. There are many works here, and this is an easy anthology to pop in the CD player and savour. Stepping back to 1997, Presence is a 2CD anthology of 23 composers. Some of the many good pieces that jump out are Tape Measure in which Steve Bradley has played a Verdi LP with a sewing machine needle attached to a tape measure. No, you can’t hear the Verdi, but it’s with childlike fascination that you will hear some micro-level gurgling and rumbling. James Harley contributes a long work, Voyage, a grand arc of sound, intricate and spacious. Monique Jean’s If finds an essay in a simple spoken phrase, and in Squeaky Chair Christopher K Koenigsberg finds a symphony in, yes, a squeaky chair. Jean Routhier’s Face à claques is a deviant piece of assemblage, something to do with things overheard we shouldn’t be privy to. Also still available is DISContact! II from 1995 that offers 51 short works on 2 CDs. The CEC makes somewhat limited quantities of their productions and this one was reissued in 1997. This is an enriching anthology filled with works created by members of the CEC. The brief works pack in variety and contrast, as well as varieties of technique and sound worlds. Spoken political pieces, song settings, inscrutable noise works, musique concrète and collage are well represented and thriving in the hands of these composers. Looking forward, the CEC has put out the call for inclusion in Presence III, so watch this space!
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Reviewpar Grant Chu Covell in La Folia (ÉU), 1 avril 2001 |386_501|
«Absolutely brilliant and balanced anthologies and collections are put out by the
CEC…»
Absolutely brilliant and balanced anthologies and collections are put out by the CEC (Canadian Electroacoustic Community/Communauté électroacoustique canadienne). New are Cache 2000 and Presence II. What makes these discs special is that a lot of diverse works are put into one package. Some of the more established anthologies have a maximum of five or seven composers and works (I’m thinking of the Wergo or CDCM series), but the CEC’s anthologies go for distinctive shorter works, accompanied with terse notes which leave little room for aggrandizing commentary. The CEC’s publications also have to be bilingual which promotes an effective use of space. I have only one minor problem with the CEC and that is that the booklets fall out of the paper CD billfolds too easily. But I am grateful for the considerate and compact packaging. Fortunately all the details are up on their website. I could go on extensively about each of the four sets here, but I will be brisk. These are all good anthologies, and any of them are worth snapping up. Cache 2000 is a single disc of 14 varied works, just part of a larger CEC effort to support young and emerging sound artists of Canada (http://cec.concordia.ca/econtact/YESA/Yesaindex.htm). The composers and their works are presented alphabetically . From the beginning you will notice how these composers have a commanding use of the sound spectrum. Sounds and gestures appear all over the stereo spectrum, and the variety within each piece is diverse. And yes, these pieces don’t seem to dwell exclusively in either the pure computer or pure concrete domain. I really like this disc, so if I don’t mention every piece on it, it’s purely for reasons of space. The opening three pieces make and excellent set: Berezan’s Gathering, Borycki’s Le Diable au Teint Orageux and Bouchard’s tonicité. Gathering and Le Diable au Teint Orageux describe intriguing spaces. tonicité starts with the recognizable sound of a large truck maneuvering, and the whole piece seems to dissect this sound pulling out a deep drone and making the truck’s horn into a saxophone (or maybe I’m being tricked into hearing this). Gurevich’s Soft White begins a casual poem with saxophone plus multiphonics and assorted electronic processing which turns kind of R-rated all of a sudden. The longer works by Roy and Zavada are entrancing as they course though textures and places effortlessly, and the appearance of text in Zavada’s Relation Diplomatik is effective and surprising. Not all of these works are easily explainable: Ledroit’s Miasmata starts with a handful of sounds and creates a set of expectations that are thwarted by the remainder of the piece. This is a great disc, and we should look forward to more work by these artists and the continuance of this CEC series in the future.
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Reviewpar Ross Bencina in Chroma #30 (Australie), 1 avril 2001 |386_3|
«… current electroacoustic practice.»
Consisting of 34 works by 32 composers from 11 different countries, the Presence II double CD compilation represents a diversity of current electroacoustic practice. It is the second such compilation to be produced by PeP — the “arms length” production team of the CEC (Canadian Electroacoustic Community). The production quality on these discs is generally high, although on my copy, track one of disc one suffered from noticeable clipping artefacts. Disc one begins with Jorge Antunes’ La beauté indiscrète d’une note violette (1995) which uses sustained tones punctuated by vocal events to articulate a short study on the color violet, organised according to the composers Chromophonic theory. Alastair Bannerman’s In th’air or th’earth (1997-99) is a peaceful flow of sustained enharmonic gestures peppered with processed voices and spectral implosions. Points of No Return (1997) by Chin-Chin Chen is a beautifully shaped series of interrupted tension building episodes articulated by a variety of processed percussive sounds. Peter Batchelor writes of his ballistic rollercoaster ride Velocity (1996): “this piece involves an exploration of ways in which speed (or, conversely, stagnancy) might be implied through the use of sound.” jef chippewa’s DUO (1997-98) explores a “correspondence of timbre and articulation” between the alto saxophone and analog synthetic sounds, Jef continues: “instead of a lethargic experience of linear continuity, and establishment of familiarity on a superficial level.” Ian Chuprun makes effective use of linear continuity in To many moments passed (1998), at one point a node of sustained tones warps through time, and erupts into an amazing pulsating rhythm, somewhat reminiscent of an idling Harley Davidson motorcycle. This is followed by Chuprun’s poignant etude Reading Allowed (1998) which processes the following spoken phrases “How do you want this read?” - “Am I supposed to read this like a child?” - “Let’s try this out here.” In Zipper Music II (1998) Gordon Fitzell explores the musical potential of zipper sounds in an active dialog of dynamic spatial gestures. Martin Alejandro Fumarola’s ARGOS (1988) and SET IN (1994) are slowly unfolding journeys though a world of sustained tones, synthetic bells and in the case of ARGOS, unusual modulated bird call like sounds. Ephémere (1997) by Yves Gigon makes subtle use of processing and deep resonant reverberation to treat recordings of the percussed ‘Primordium’ sound sculpture. I found the tracks on PRESENCE II containing only mixed or minimally processed, recorded sound to provide an excellent contrast to the dense spectral masses of the more synthetic works. Steve Bradley’s fowl melody to trot combines domestic histrionics, french voice over and a variety of concréte hummings and tappings to address “the challenge of learning French growing up in a mediated psychic society.” Thomas Gerwin’s 6 Aphorisms (1998) presents a series of environmental snapshots, as does Pascale Trudel’s Ce n’est pas ici (1999.) Barbara Golden’s Whipping the Boys (1981-99) overlays pulsing analog tones with an informal discussion of recreational disciplinary activities. Spirit Wheels: Journey (1997) by sylvi macCormac is an ethereal collage of voices, penny whistle, bells and bowed drones which I found to be one of the most striking works on these discs. Disc two contains 22 tracks, ten of which are excerpts or movements taken from larger works, in many cases I would have liked to hear the full compositions - in some cases the pieces are available in full on other releases. Few of the tracks on disk two exceed four minutes in duration, some are edited in such a way that it’s easy to imagine that you are listening to a single composition - at least that was my initial experience of the first five tracks of disc 2. The disc begins with A Palaver with Procrustes (1998) by Martin Gotfrit, which consists of a variety of synthetic tones modulated at different rates according to the Fibonacci series. Otto Joachim’s Three Electronic Sketches (1984) taken from a larger cycle of 7 are interesting sonic scenes rendered using randomly modulated voltage controlled synthesisers. The sequence of analogesque tracks concludes with Suk Jun Kim’s structured composition sudden cry (1998). Following sylvi macCormac’s previously mentioned Spirit Wheels, is Kevin MacLeod’s pacific (1998) in which pulsey and percussive textures slowly fade in and out to form a dialog. Climb to Camp One (1989) by Diana McIntosh is a slow performance from the inside of a piano - climbing equipment is used to percuss the piano’s body and excite its strings. Gritty pulse-like gestures articulate Dugal McKinnon’s Horizont im Ohr (1998), after which Adrian Moore’s Soundbodies: Bodypart (1998) congeals into a pulsating mass of vocal fragments, percussion and fast, syncopated melodies. David Prior’s fifth movement from Somewhere Submarine (1996) for piano and tape combines a paced jazz-angular piano score with long decaying resonances on tape. Jean Routhier’s brief Stereotyped Latter-Day Opinion (1999) has it all: a throbbing beat with synth drones, glitches, and cats meowing. B-side (1998) by Antti Saario begins with a series of drum fills, interspliced with concrete sounds, somewhere in the middle guitar feedback becomes seagulls - in the end there’s a rock-band rehearsal. Dave Solursh’s We (1998) presents a coulorful narrative of processed water, modulated noise and harsh synthesised tones. Jørgen Teller’s H a e i o u y æ å part 2 (1997) is an exercise in extreme laughter processing. Ben Thigpen’s step, under (1998) features some intriguing comb-like resonances, which appear to bend in pitch as the amplitude of the excitation source changes. The cinematic Voices Part I (1997) by Todor Todoroff presents a subtle sequence of slow ambient resonances, punctuated at various times by voices and clunking metal. Hans Tutschku’s extrémités lointaines (1998) combines sounds collected from south-east Asia into an interesting scene sometimes involving stretched and processed dynamic gestures. Annette Vande Gorne’s Amoroso: Vox Alia, movement 2 (1998) is a subtle wash of heavily processed singing voices - a modal character with traces of sweeping filters. Chris Wand’s to be led (1993) presents a concise spoken text with accompaniment. Disc two concludes with Daniel Zimbaldo’s intense pulsating tone mass Au-delà du miroir. In summary, this is a mammoth compilation of contemporary electroacoustic music. A large number of styles are represented, and the quality of the works presented is excellent. If you want to hear what’s been happening recently in electroacoustic studios around the globe, go grab yourself a copy of PRESENCE II.
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Critiquepar Robert Lemay in CAML Review #29:1 (Canada), 1 avril 2001 |386_2|
«… particulièrement surprenante…»
Nicolas Borycki, David Berezan, jef chippewa, Michael Gurevich, Daniel Romano, Julien Roy ou Ivan Zavada: des noms qui ne vous disent probablement rien. Pour en avoir croisé quelques uns dans les corridors de l’Université de Montréal et de l’Université McGill, je sais que ces jeunes compositeurs électroacousticiens cherchent toujours de nouvelles voix pour faire connaître et diffuser leurs musiques. Un nouveau CD intitulé Cache 2000 vient de paraître et comprend 14 œuvres électroacoustiques, de 14 jeunes compositeurs âgés dans la vingtaine. Cache 2000 est seulement le volet CD d’un projet plus large créé l’année dernière par la CEC (Communauté électroacoustique canadienne) et qui s’adressait aux jeunes créateurs sonores. Un appel d’œuvre a été fait pour souligner le nouveau millénaire. Le CEC a reçu 37 soumissions et un jury composé de 40 membres a d’abord sélectionné les 14 meilleures compositions. Ce sont ces œuvres qui sont présentées sur Cache 2000. Chose intéressante à noter sur ce CD, les pièces sont présentées selon l’ordre alphabétique du nom des compositeurs; probablement pour ne pas donner l’illusion de gagnants. Tous les titres soumis pour le projet sont disponibles en format mp3 sur le site internet de la CEC. Pour compléter le projet, un volet concours (Jeu de temps/Time Play) a été organisé. Le jury a choisi 3 œuvres gagnantes et un prix du public a été décerné après une diffusion en concert de toutes les pièces. Ce qui surprend avec ce CD, c’est la qualité et le professionnalisme de ces jeunes compositeurs. Tous contrôlent merveilleusement la technologie et pour la plupart savent utiliser un langage conforme au médium. Une œuvre comme “Le Diable au Teint Orageux” de Nicolas Borycki est particulièrement surprenante. Ce jeune compositeur, né en France en 1972 et résidant à Montréal depuis 8 ans, fait preuve d’un excellent contrôle de son matériel et de son développement. Il élabore un excellent mélange de sons identifiables (eau, vent) et de transformations sophistiquées. Yves Gigon dans “Crickpet” utilise des technologies de transformations récentes telles que la synthèse granulaire et le time stretching. Il en résulte une pièce un peu planante mais très intéressante. L’œuvre de Christien Ledroit est aussi forte, avec une bonne qualité de matériel et bien traitée D’autres œuvres sont peut-être moins heureuses… “Soft White” de Michael Gurevich explore la transformation en temps réel. L’œuvre est une interaction entre un saxophone alto et un ordinateur Macintosh utilisant Max et MSP. Malgré quelques transformations intéressantes du son du saxophone à l’occasion (une sorte d’harmonisateur qui donne un timbre particulier au saxophone), l’œuvre demeure assez banale. L’écriture pour le saxophone est pauvre, d’aucune nouveauté ou originalité, à la limite de l’insignifiance. De plus, la plupart du temps on ne sent pas vraiment la transformation du saxophone et le résultat se résume en un halo sonore sans intérêt. Le tout est noyé dans un texte parlé et traité avec de l’écho qui se veut peut-être provocant parce qu’une voix féminine nous dit “I want to be f____.” Une autre œuvre, “Duo” de jef chippewa, utilise le saxophone mais d’une façon beaucoup plus originale et convaincante. L’écriture pour l’instrument est très près du Free Jazz et l’interaction avec les sons électroniques est recherchée et nouvelle. Par exemple un slap-tongue au saxophone se continue en écho et est transformé de façon très sophistiquée par l’électronique. Un gliss dans le sur-aigu de l’instrument se “poursuit” dans les sons synthétisés sans qu’on le perçoive. Un autre intérêt de ce disque réside dans la diversité des styles chez ces jeunes compositeurs. On sent chez Julien Roy et sa pièce “Rémanence” (Remix) une influence très marquée du Rock. Encore une fois nous sommes loin des clichés de solo de guitare électrique, mais il y a plutôt une omniprésence rythmique très bien développée qui séduit par sa subtilité. Le CD est produit par PeP (Productions electro Productions/CEC) et n’est pas disponible en magasin mais via DIFFUSION i MéDIA sur leur leur site Web. De plus le CD ne contient pas de livret mais l’information est disponible sur le site internet de la CEC.
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Reviewpar Steve Benner in SAN Diffusion (RU), 1 février 2001 |372|
«… it is all, without exception, fresh and stimulating.»
This double CD compilation of electroacoustic and computer music compositions is the first of a projected series of such collections produced by PeP, a self-funding offshoot of the Communauté électroacoustique canadienne / Canadian Electroacoustic Community (CEC). Between them, the two CDs present works by a total of 25 composers, most (but not all) of whom live and work in Canada or North America. By and large, the works are presented complete, (unlike on the Canadian Electroacoustic Community’s DISContact! snippet-and-electroclip collections) although they range tremendously in length from less than a minute to almost 15. The compositions also vary greatly in style, from Kevin Austin’s raw algorithmic study of pulse and texture Static Gestures II (Formant Pulses) (1987), through abstract instrumental, tape and acousmatic works, to soundscape compositions, like Claude Schryer’s Vancouver Soundscape Revisited: Fire (2nd movement) (1996). Not all of this music was new when the discs were released in 1997 — the oldest work is Jan Jarvlepp’s Buoyancy, which dates from 1977 — but it is all, without exception, fresh and stimulating. Even Chris Koenigsberg’s Squeaky Chair (1993) with its declared indebtedness to Pierre Henry’s 1963 work Variations pour une porte et un soupir manages to breathe new life into an older idea. The pieces appear on the two discs in strictly alphabetical order of the composers’ surnames and, while this scheme may be argued as being the fairest way to present the music, it does make listening to the discs from end to end a less than satisfying experience. As a source of stimulating music, nearly all of which is unavailable commercially elsewhere, the collection is, however, virtually unparalleled — unless it be by the later Presence II release! Bravo PeP!
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Reviewpar Rajmil Fischman in SAN Diffusion (RU), 1 février 2001 |371|
«… almost everyone may find something appealing in it.»
With 34 works from 32 composers, this double CD compilation situates the listener in what could be compared to strolling through a colourful town market, with its confluence of colours, tastes and smells. The pieces on offer address a variety of musical concerns, and present a number of different approaches to the latter. They come in different ‘shapes and sizes,’ from a 37” miniature to a three movement work lasting over 12 minutes. Of these some are complete works and some are excerpts. Although strict classification into genres and styles is impossible and undesirable, it may make some sense to group the pieces in this collection according to common concerns and general approaches within which their materials are developed and structured. Of course, overlapping will be inevitable and works may belong to more than one group. Nevertheless, grouping is still a worthwhile pursuit since it will hopefully give the reader a reasonable idea of what to expect and provide first time listeners with signposts to the various ‘goods on offer in this town market’. With this in mind, lets begin our ‘stroll’… Our first stop will take us to works constructed by virtue of the timbral qualities of their materials — even when they use sounds of recognisable sources. Velocity, by Peter Batchelor, begins in the lower ends of the spectrum, with a single massive ‘wave’, which is then expanded into a complex textural set-up. The spectrum is slowly expanded to include wider bandwidths, alternating between the stasis of textural material and the activity of strong gestures reminiscent of the original opening. As Batchelor himself proposes in the programme notes, this work explores just such type of contrast: the sonification of movement and stagnation. Towards the last quarter of the work, the interaction between the two types of material seems to become more intricate: instead of simply giving way to their counterpart, static and dynamic sections seem to engender each other, to be the cause of their antithetical manifestation. A similar concern, albeit with a different approach, is found in pacific, by Kevin MacLeod. The general tendency of this work is one of transition from activity to stasis, beginning with a hectic counterpoint of sounds, followed by a serene section, articulated by means of noise based gestures against a high pitched background. A low frequency drone brings this work to its conclusion. On the other hand, the main force articulating Points of No Return, by Chin-Chin Chen, is the superimposition of two types of material according to their timbral content. Initially, a pitched sound (roughly E), is set ‘in the spotlight’. Then, the sound evolves into a variety of textural and gestural complexes. The interesting feature of this section is that it is all related to a basic pitch, roughly between A# and B: even when unpitched material is used (belonging to a different sonic category, as explained in the programme notes) there seems to be an underlying basic drone unifying the passage. In fact, pitch becomes a structural device, delimiting sections and giving a sense of progression when, after the abrupt end of the first section at ca. 2’, a drone takes over and different harmonic fields are created by superimposing short allusions to other pitches. In step, under (excerpt), by Ben Thigpen, a group of low frequency sounds evolve into a set of appealing grainy textures and high frequency pitched strata which dissolves slowly into silence. It is worth paying attention to the intricate resonant decay characteristic of most sonic material in this work. Zipper Music II, by Gordon Fitzell, achieves an admirable timbral variety out of sounds produced by a mere zipper, articulated successfully into a coherent musical flow. Even background noises are used effectively. ARGOS, by Martín Alejandro Fumarola, effectively employs a limited number of materials to produce a convincing shape; contrasting long evolving textures with sharper gestures. At the same time, the ear is drawn to the inner details of the gradual evolution of the long textures. Au-delà du miroir, by Daniel Zimbaldo, consists of a single sound mass which emerges very slowly out of ‘nothingness’, swells into a climax — displaying evolving internal details of its timbral architecture — and then fades out also very slowly into ‘nothingness’. In spite of its use of recordings of water and the allusion of its title to the role of this element in our constitution, Dave Solursh’s We is articulated by virtue of the timbral qualities of its materials, including untouched as well as processed samples, thus achieving a wide and attractive sonic palette. This material is well organised into a clear structure which could be described as consisting of a number of ‘waves’, each with its own spectral characteristics and temporal articulation. As an illustration of the latter, there are different types of onset, from waves which start abruptly to others which emerge slowly out of silence. Éphémère, by Yves Gigon refers to the mayfly. However, the articulation of its sonic world falls within the abstract category, rather like programmatic music using orchestral instruments. In any case, it is an interesting and unconventional presentation of the ‘ephemera’. In the first place, it defies the immediate image one may have of the mayfly as a lightweight living organism inhabiting high frequency spheres: the piece presents slowly evolving aural images at the low end of the spectrum. Could it be that the whole work is actually presented from the perspective of the mayfly, for whom routine human objects may appear heavy and large? — it is also interesting to read in the programme note that the gestation of this ‘fleeting moment’ was the result of a long process towards maturity. To many moments passed is a touching work by Ian Chuprun: described by the composer as a ‘celebration and lament’, the delicate manipulation of sonic material is indeed moving and, mysteriously, in spite of its abstract material, it does leave a sensation of longing. Its ‘controlled eruptions’ give a definite shape to the composition, subtly containing the energy that attempts to burst from within and maintaining an elegant sense of flow of the discourse. Perhaps its ‘human’ attributes are aided by fleeting moments containing material which may be considered to resemble — or perhaps even originate from — vocal utterances. Moving on in our ‘stroll’ we come across a group of works with more overt use of vocal utterances in order to articulate their discourse. Nevertheless the latter is still abstract, since the voice is treated for its intrinsic sonic value rather than for the semantic meaning of its utterances. Todor Todoroff’s Voices Part I (version stéréo), combines the voice with sounds of a percussive nature, treating it with various types of resonation and feedback loops. This results in a serene and contemplative environment in which sounds develop and evolve giving the impression of timelessness, as pointed out by the composer in the programme notes. Alastair Bannerman’s In th’air or th’earth hovers between the recognisable and the abstract, the real and the surreal environment of unintelligible but definitely human utterance. The voice evaporates and re-materialises, this device being used in the structuring of the work. It begins with delicate high frequency streams which slowly give way to the voice material, a preamble of the dream-like atmosphere of this work, which may be compared to a slow-evolving storm, surrounding and involving the listener with the beauty of sounds and textures achieved by means of processing of the voice, changing its texture and timbral content, and giving the impression that the it is constantly changing its shape. This work ends with a passage resembling the beginning; this time, instead of materialising into vocal utterance, it only reaches intermediate stages of transformation, reminiscences of the latter. Annette Vande Gorne’s Amoroso, the second movement of a longer work entitled Vox Alia provides a different treatment of the voice, creating long streams of pulsating ‘pitch beads’ which, nevertheless, leave traces of the original vocal sung material: sometimes these traces consist of a voice, while in other occasions, a flock of voices float in the sonic air, dissolving into the more ethereal abstract entities, allowing a short glimpse of a ghost of an Ave Maria before transforming again into abstract eddies of sound. ,H a e i o u y æ ø å pt. 2 by Jørgen Teller, is an excerpt from a set of three longer versions — including a 30 minute piece, an installation and a work for radio — which concentrates on laughter. Samples are processed mainly by looping and granulation, producing various superimposed textures. Turning our heads in a different direction, we find Dugal McKinnon’s Horizont im Ohr (excerpt), a work which contains exclusively ‘abstract’ materials. Paradoxically, it appeals to the senses with great intensity. Perhaps the best description of this excerpt may be found in McKinnon’s own evocation of ‘the sensual physicality of the acousmatic’. Indeed, the sounds in this work are of extreme beauty and sensuality and their organisation results in discourse of a natural physicality which may be compared to dance movement. This brings us to Soundbodies: Bodypart, by Adrian Moore, an excerpt which was actually composed with dancers in mind, amalgamating impeccably and with great effect a number of disparate sources, such as vocal utterances including breath and sighs, instrumental sounds and abstract electroacoustic material. Moore’s energetic statement seems to create what may perhaps be defined as a ‘frantic dance of live’, and, to a certain extend, may be understood as a statement which, far from being abstract, actually re-presents physical reality, whether it alludes to real objects or social conventions. Threading away from the purely abstract we encounter Hans Tutschku’s extrémités lointaines, which seems to play with the expectations generated by the alternation between the abstract and the mimetic or anecdotal (in the sense of re-presenting physical reality). In fact, it seems to be articulated within a continuum which spans from absolute recognition to absolute abstraction. Its delicate treatment of environmental sounds from south-east Asia threads an imaginary space between recognisable and purely sonic landscapes, achieving a successful balance between these and so maintaining the tension and interest of the work. Towards the end, this tension is resolved sweepingly into a complex of pulsating pitches: a chord. However, when one feels that the final destination has been reached and the concluding sonic landscape is set, a further twist in the pitched complex subtly reveals a closing far East scene. Following our footsteps we now approach the overtly anecdotal, offering music in which source and landscape recognition are an essential part of the structure and discourse. Antti Saario’s B-Side sweeps the listener into a variety of environments, from pop drumming to factory ambiences and imaginary scenes created using feedback noises and normally discarded sounds (such as noise, clicks and pops) with great effect as an integral part of the discourse. This vertiginous journey is ended with a rapid transition into silence, resembling a radio receiver which is suddenly shut off. Stereotyped Latter-Day Opinion, by Jean Routhier, the second shortest work in this compilation, provides a witty collage of disparate sounds which blend into a rhythmic pattern. Ce n’est pas ici, by Pascale Trudel consists of a succession of broken scenes in the manner of flashbacks or akin to changing channels on a television set. In a sense, the best description of this work is summarised in the succinct programme note: ‘I / remember / pieces of time / that / compose / life’. Finally, taking the anecdotal to its ultimate manifestation, we find ourselves aurally ‘gazing’ at the documentary world pioneered by Luc Ferrari: 6 Aphorisms, by Thomas Gerwin consists of short ‘sound environments’ from field recordings on location, taken from an interactive installation produced by the composer. A different type of anecdotal approach uses spoken and sung texts for their semantic and social meaning. The use of the word in Steve Bradley’s “volalle melodie vi to trot” / “fowl melody to trot” is explicit and its meaning is crucial in order to apprehend this satirical commentary on society, which superimposes the neutral presentation of rules for proper French pronunciation on the gradual loss of temper (and sanity) of ‘normal’ parents dealing with their child’s behaviour. After a rather abrupt beginning it becomes clear that the crackles and pops of the French tutorial are intentional. Is this, perhaps, another allusion to the parents’ state of mind or even to the sanity of modern life? On the other hand, Whipping the Boys, by Barbara Golden seems to adopt a documentary approach, making subdued comments about some corporal punishment inflicted on male individuals and, at the same time, presenting reality within the sonic world of the analogue synthesiser. sylvi macCormac’s Spirit Wheels: Journey (part 1 of a puppet opera), begins and ends with the sound of a solo aerophone. The beginning is followed by percussion instruments and voices relying spiritual messages from various doctrines. chris wind’s to be led, the shortest work in this compilation, consists of the reading of text underpinned by a reversed sample of a Straussian waltz. The text, read by a female voice is ‘self explanatory’. Reading Allowed (PA 11), by Ian Chuprun uses text and may be considered to be anecdotal. However, the possible distraction from musical content is balanced and ultimately driven by abstract processed material, so that the reading of text appears rather as an iconic allusion to the source material and to the intention of the piece. The use of clichés such as speed/pitch change and vocoding seem to acquire intentional significance when related to the allusion ‘to the parallel between web art and early computer music developments’ mentioned in the programme notes. Our imaginary stroll takes us now to a group of works which owe their structure and discourse to the articulation of pitch. In fact, although Jorge Antunes’ La beauté indiscrète d’une note violette uses a sung phoneme, it actually applies the composer’s theoretical developments on the relationships between sound and colour and derives its unity from being built on diverse articulations of the pitch class E. Martin Gotfrit’s A Palaver with Procrustes (excerpt) is also concerned with pitch, but this time as the result of a tuned filtering process based on the Fibonacci series, beginning at the lower end of the spectrum, reaching higher frequencies and descending back slowly. In contrast with the previous two works, A Palaver with Procrustes, by Martín Alejandro Fumarola presents complexes of different pitches creating contour instead of focusing on the internal characteristics of a single tone or elaborating on a single pitch class. Timbral identity is mainly defined by the characteristics of the synthesiser used. The result is an almost contemplative discourse which purposefully avoids strong gestures. Work within the domain of pitch using synthesised material brings us close to the character of the next group of pieces, which may be seen to have a direct ascendance to the origins of elektronische musik. The first of Three Electronic Sketches, by Otto Joachim uses transpositions of a single iterative sound typology in order to create its discourse. The transposition affects the timbral content as well as the relative height of the sound. The second sketch uses pitched material akin to that produced using random processes. The final sketch combines pitched material with iterative sounds reminiscent of the first sketch, acting as a synthesis of the previous two movements. Suk Jun Kim’s last two movements of sudden cry begin with a low frequency drone from which transpositions of an iterative texture emerge. After reaching a climax in which the bandwidth is extended to reach higher parts of the spectrum, the work descends back to the low frequency echelons. As we approach the end of our ‘stroll’ we encounter a group of works which involve performances using instruments. Somewhere Submarine (5th Movement), by David Prior is the last of a suite of five pieces for piano and tape. It contrasts rhythmic gestures of piano sounds against slow moving chords. The latter also act as a muffled reverberant background to the former akin to a scene in the depth. Climb to Camp One, by Diana McIntosh offers a recording of a performance of this work, which represents a mountain climb through difficult conditions. The performance requires application of various climbing tools to the interior of a piano and includes the use of the voice of the performer, resulting in a variety of textural and gestural sonorities enhanced by the natural resonance of the instrument. This piece combines various of the characteristics of encountered above, such as its relation to other media (music theatre), the use of timbral complexes and the introduction of anecdotal material — for instance, in the representation of shortness of breath resulting from the effort of ascending a mountain by actual breathing of the performer mimicked in the rhythm with which the piano is articulated. DUO, by jef chippewa achieves a remarkable integration of the production of sound in a saxophone with the output of an analog synthesiser. Except for one instance, saxophone gestures initiate long ‘phrases’ within which the two poles interact to create a synergetic world in which both are able to coexist and interact. This work concerns itself with timbral affinity and, as such, brings us back full circle to where we started our short tour through Presence II. It is inevitable that, given the variety on offer, each listener will have her/his own preferences. Certain works may appeal to some and not to others. While it is difficult to imagine that one can find everything to one’s taste, Presence II may have the virtue of being like our town market analogy: almost everyone may find something appealing in it.
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Reviewpar François Couture in All-Music Guide (ÉU), 18 janvier 2001 |369|
«… some pieces are breath-taking…»
Cache 2000 is the conclusion of the Canadian Electroacoustic Community (CEC) young emerging artist project. 37 electroacoustic pieces were submitted to a web-based competition called Times Play. An international jury gave scores to each piece and the 14 top-scorers are featured on this CD. The composers approach the genre from different angles, ranging from pure musique concrète to mixed media pieces. The running order follows an alphabetical order, an arbitrary decision that excludes any chance of cohesion (when will compilers learn that a running order should not be left out to arbitrary factors but thought over as an extended way of composing?). The stand-out works are jef chippewa’s DUO (nice interplay with a squealy saxophone), Michael Gurevich’s Soft White (disturbing tape, saxophone and poetry piece) and Julien Roy’s bouncy Rémanence (Remix). A special mention goes to Ivan Zavada’s Relation Diplomatik, an intelligent piece mixing sound art and electronics. Cache 2000 is an honest compilation and some of these young composers should deliver strong CDs of their own in the future.
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Reviewpar François Couture in All-Music Guide (ÉU), 23 octobre 2000 |357|
«… some pieces are breath-taking…»
Presence ([released in 1997…] followed by Presence II in 2000) replaces the “DISContact!” series as the Canadian Electroacoustic Community [CEC] mean of spreading the works of its members. Exit the clip format (pieces under three minutes) that was at the basis of DISContact! and DISContact! II: this time pieces are selected for their interest and the goal is to put good music in the hands of listeners instead of as many composers as possible. Some works are a few seconds shy from 15 minutes while one is under 60 seconds. Most of the 23 featured composers are Canadian (some are French, American, Spanish), teachers and students. All of them are seldom found on record (but some are regulars of the CEC’s compilations: Steve Bradley, Diana McIntosh, Jean Routhier, Daniel Zimbaldo). As with any arbitrarily-built compilation (pieces are presented in alphabetical order of the composers, regardless of compatibilities), some pieces are breath-taking, others are quickly forgotten. Highlights include Rémy Carré’s La Trace du Souffle, Jan Jarvlepp’s Buoyancy (using only cello sounds to great effect) and David Lindsay’s Cetacean Progress.
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Reviewpar François Couture in All-Music Guide (ÉU), 16 octobre 2000 |355|
«… a nice overview of what is produced around the world…»
Presence II is a 2-CD set of electroacoustic music released by Productions électro Productions, an arm of the Canadian Electroacoustic Community (CEC). The scope of the music presented here is very wide: established composers and newcomers, 60-second snapshots and large-scale works (the longest piece is 12 minutes), typical musique concrète and approaches closer to real-time performance. A third of the composers are Canadian, another third come from England, the rest from France, Belgium, Germany and South America. Some pieces date from the mid-80s (Otto Joachim’s Three Electronic Sketches) but most material is fairly recent (1997-1999). Presence II offers a nice overview of what is produced around the world in terms of electroacoustics, but it remains a very straight compilation: no attempt has been made at giving the record its own identity. Tracks are presented in alphabetical orders of their composers, without any regards to compatibilities, interesting contrasts, etc. It might be democratic but since there is no continuity in the program, the listener must reset his attention 36 times. Still, Presence II documents a number of valuable composers like Alastair Bannerman, Gordon Fitzell, Barbara Golden, Jean Routhier and Ben Thigpen that are cruelly under-recorded.
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Reviewpar Irving Bellemead in Splendid E-Zine (ÉU), 25 septembre 2000 |350_9|
«… this really is an impressive, listenable collection of electronic music.»
Pretty much anyone with a functioning cochlea will find something to like on this massive collection of recent electroacoustic works from the Canadian Electroacoustic Community (Communauté électroacoustique canadienne). 34 pieces from 32 composers in 11 countries can seem a bit daunting at first, but a taste for surprising sounds and liberal use of your CD player’s fast-forward and skip-track buttons will get you through. And you’ll be the better for the journey! The packaging for this two CD set is a bit odd — the discs don’t really fit in the sleeve, and the large booklet is at odds with its container. The cover image is nice, though. The booklet, written in English and French, is thorough and useful, with a brief introduction to the CDs and composer-written notes for each of the pieces. It would be difficult to put together 34 different pieces of music and not be struck by how different they are (although Short Music for Short People managed pretty well!). Still, it’s worth mentioning that regardless of your preconceptions of the CEC/acousmatic scene (you do have preconceptions, don’t you? Heathen.), these discs represent an impressive range of styles, sounds and techniques, all within the rough boundaries of the acousmatic genre. That means there’s no punk rock or dance music here, although several of the pieces do get pretty grungy and/or rhythmic. A few semi-randomly picked highlights: Adrian Moore’s Soundbodies: Bodypart (1998) is full of suggestive, out-of-body voices, zipping around like jacked up goblins. Antti Saario’s B-side (1998) manages to be both funky and mysterious. Au-delà du miroir (1998) by Daniel Zimbaldo is a long, lovely arch. Steve Bradley’s volalle melodie vi to trot (1999) is a strange, crackling collage of voices and fuzz. DUO (1997-98) by jef chippewa is a balloonaphobe’s nightmare. Gordon Fitzell’s Zipper Music II (1998) is just as much fun as its name implies. Although a few of the pieces here are a bit too acousmatic for my taste (a ball rolls, a door slams, a baby cries, a train toots), this really is an impressive, listenable collection of electronic music. If you’ve been wondering what this “electroacoustic” thing that you keep hearing about is, or if you’re just looking to add a chunk of contemporary electronic music to your collection, then Presence II would be a fine place to start.
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L’électroacoustique au Canadapar Jean-François Denis in CEC, eContact! #3:4 (Canada), 1 juillet 1999 |313_5|
«Quoiqu’elle soit, toutes proportions gardées, l’une des grandes forces de la
création musicale canadienne, il reste encore à l’électroacoustique à se faire
connaître et reconnaître.»
[Texte écrit en juillet 1999 pour le 40e anniversaire du Centre de musique canadienne (CMC); mise-à-jour superficielle en février 2005 et en mars 2006] Situation actuelle Je classe le développement de cet art, au Canada, en trois temps; chaque pays d’Occident aura sa démarche propre et unique. La première, celle de la musique expérimentale, de la musique électronique, où prime la notion de nouveauté instrumentale, débute en 1954 au Conseil national de recherches du Canada avec l’inventeur Hugh Le Caine qui assiste aussi la création de studios dans les facultés de musique de University of Toronto, en 1959, et de McGill University, en 1964. (Dans cette période plusieurs compositeurs «essaient» le studio, y crée une ou deux pièces et n’y retournent plus.) La seconde est celle qui débute vers 1970. Le studio n’est plus seulement un nouvel instrument de musique, il devient une nouvelle façon de faire la musique. La lutherie s’invente. Apparaissent les instruments analogiques asservissables — les synthétiseurs — et aussi les débuts de l’informatique musicale (hors des centres de recherche privés). Plusieurs compositeurs de ce groupe se consacrent à ce mode de création, vont en Europe (surtout en France mais aussi aux Pays-Bas) chercher et développer leurs connaissances. La troisième débute vers 1980 avec la reconnaissance institutionnelle du genre électroacoustique par la mise sur pied d’un programme d’études complet (à l’Université de Montréal). La plupart des compositeurs de ce groupe ont eux-mêmes étudié en France, y retournent régulièrement et crée ainsi des ponts avec notre pays. C’est aussi l’époque où le Concours international de musique électroacoustique de Bourges (créé en 1973) ainsi que la tenue annuelle du Festival international (dès 1970) prennent une grande importance pour tous les compositeurs, car ils sont devenus le temps et le lieu de rencontre et de partage des musiques qui se font à travers le monde occidental. Les compositeurs Philippe Ménard, Yves Daoust, Barry Truax, David Keane et Francis Dhomont, entre autres, ont participé à de nombreux festivals apportant avec eux les musiques d’ici et rapportant les musiques découvertes là-bas. Vers la fin des années 80, le besoin de regrouper les compositeurs d’électroacoustique se fait sentir et la Communauté électroacoustique canadienne (CÉC) est fondée. Aujourd’hui, libre de conventions, de patrimoine historique, sociologique et esthétique, cet art sonore continue à se créer. Les tendances très actuelles des musiques «underground» en sont des manifestations rafraîchissantes. Souvent sans le savoir, ces artistes «techno», «noise» et «minimal electronics» ainsi que les «DJ», non seulement utilisent les mêmes moyens de création que ceux des compositeurs d’électroacoustique (le studio) mais ont une approche similaire de la création sonore: seule la fin diffère. Depuis la fin des années 80, le rapide développement de la lutherie électroacoustique rend possible la mise sur pied de studios personnels performants; et, depuis le milieu des années 90, souvent plus performant que ceux des institutions! Ce développement conjugué à l’absence de studios associatifs (comme il y en a tant en France, par exemple) font que la musique électroacoustique se pratique hors des institutions. (Avatar, qui œuvre dans les arts sonore et radiophonique, serait finalement pratiquement le seul studio associatif, et quoique des centres de création médiatique, lire vidéo, ont aussi des studios de son, cela n’en fait pas pour autant des studios de composition électroacoustique.) La multiplication des studios personnels s’est aussi accélérée pour deux autres raisons. Alors que jusqu’à la fin des années 80, la «plupart» des compositeurs étaient aussi professeurs, on remarque qu’aujourd’hui la «plupart» des compositeurs sont compositeurs… pour le cinéma, la danse, la télévision ou le théâtre. Ceci étant dit, la plupart des compositeurs de musique électroacoustique actifs aujourd’hui sont passés par les universités ou les conservatoires qui sont à la fois des lieux de formation (grâce a leurs professeurs qui sont aussi compositeurs), de création (grâce à leurs studios) et aussi de diffusion (grâce à leurs quelques séries de concerts). La place de nos électroacousticiens sur les scènes nationale et internationale Malgré de nombreux développements (organisation de festivals, mise sur pied d’un regroupement avec ses congrès, publications écrites — papier et électronique — et discographie…), fondation de maisons de disques, reconnaissance internationale de la qualité des œuvres de ses compositeurs lors de concours — dont les plus prestigieux—, par la programmation lors de concerts et festivals importants) la place de nos électroacousticiens au pays reste toujours aujourd’hui à être reconnue et justement valorisée. Quoiqu’elle soit, toutes proportions gardées, l’une des grandes forces de la création musicale canadienne, il reste encore à l’électroacoustique à se faire connaître et reconnaître. Cette situation n’est pas exclusivement canadienne: les mêmes défis se retrouvent à l’étranger et même au niveau international — d’où le besoin de créer, là aussi, de structures distinctes telles la Confédération internationale de musique électroacoustique (CIME) et la Tribune à l’UNESCO. Ainsi la communauté électroacoustique a dû se développer elle-même, seule. Sans toutefois ignorer les multiples actions posées ici et là au cours des quarante-cinq dernières années, je retiendrai quatre événements publics ainsi qu’un développement technologique pivots pour l’ensemble de la communauté électroacoustique au pays. Vers 1982, le CECG, piloté par Kevin Austin à la Concordia University, lance — aux niveaux national et international — des appels d’œuvres pour bande pour ses séries de concerts. Dès 1984 le CECG publie aussi un bulletin de nouvelles qui sera distribué lui aussi au pays et à l’étranger. Ces deux actions font connaître l’activité électroacoustique canadienne et comble le besoin de communication entre les compositeurs eux-mêmes. En 1986, la Music Gallery sous Al Mattes organise l’événement Wired Society/Branché qui regroupe plus de quarante compositeurs et nombre important d’étudiants en provenance de toutes les régions du pays afin, entre autres, d’échanger sur leurs besoins individuels et associatifs. Dix mois plus tard, toujours en 1986, la Communauté électroacoustique canadienne (CÉC) voit le jour avec plus de 101 fondateurs (suite à une campagne d’affiliation entreprise en juillet) et publie le Bulletin CÉC (d’une certaine façon, prenant la relève du Bulletin CECG). (Notez que je co-rédige la charte de la CÉC, la co-fonde et en devient le premier président.) L’année suivante, en 1987, les professeurs d’électroacoustique de la Concordia University (dont je fait parti — de 1985 à 1989), de McGill University, de l’Université de Montréal et du Conservatoire de musique de Montréal (ainsi qu’avec Robert Normandeau, alors étudiant à l’Université de Montréal) se regroupent afin d’organiser le festival 2001(-14), faisant suite à l’événement de Toronto, et où la CÉC fera «officiellement» sa première apparition. (On verra dans le petit historique plus bas les différentes actions de la CÉC, jusqu’à ce jour.) L’invention et la popularité du disque compact ont été bénéfiques pour l’électroacoustique car la qualité sonore du support de diffusion est similaire ou identique à celle de l’œuvre originale et son format est universel. Enfin, l’auditeur entend, en stéréophonie, dans toute ses subtilités et ses nuances, l’œuvre musicale. L’électroacoustique (ici je parle presque exclusivement de la musique pour haut-parleurs qui est aussi connue sous de nombreux autres noms dont acousmatique et musique concrète) est un art qui d’abord et avant tout s’écoute. Invisible, sa diffusion ne se fait pas par la photocopie de partitions — comme on le fait pour les musiques instrumentales — mais par la copie sonore d’abord sur bande magnétique (et à grand tirage sur disque vinyle) et depuis peu, sur disque compact enregistrable (et à grand tirage sur disque compact audio). Petit historique Les musiques électroacoustiques s’affirment et se développent d’abord en France et en Allemagne vers 1948. (Bien sûr, toutes nouvelles tendances se forment à partir d’antécédents, mais je considère que le changement d’attitude qui s’est produit à cette époque, en ces lieux, constitue un véritable début.) Quoique Otto Joachim fonde son studio personnel de musique électroacoustique à Montréal dès 1956, les premières traces canadiennes institutionnelles de studios de composition, se trouvent aux universités de Toronto — dès 1959 — et McGill — en 1964. Voici de façon très abrégée, et assez exacte, le développement de l’électroacoustique dont les références principales sont: les studios dans les institutions (universités et conservatoires — donc des cours et des programmes d’études—, centre de recherche et centre de production); les groupes d’interprétation; les groupes d’artistes; les éditeurs discographiques.
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